#really using it as a slur. so frankly its very much not that big of a deal

[boy-armageddon]

i start gagging and throwing up thinking about how the blood brothers will likely never be recognized for how great and in some ways ahead of their time they were, but then im happy because i remember people would probably argue over whether or not they're problematic or whatevs for saying faggot in a few interviews. but then im sad again cause there's like one fanfic regarding them that ive seen so there's a really untapped market for sasscore slash right here. slashcore?

[starlightmaker17]

Stolitz time:

RATING: 6/10

So, yikes... It's clear both are wrong in many aspects. Let's start with Stolas.

While it is shown by us viewers he wants a romantic relationship with Blitz, frankly he is not very good at demonstrating it. Taking considetation he did not have a very good role model in Paimon (other than showing love by flaunting luxury and ignoring his sons distress), and from his arranged marriage, he has little to no good understanding on romance almost as much as Blitz does. He was so relieved to have his ffirst friend back into his life that he was willing to do anything to keep him, including assuming that means sex. By that point they had agreement to use Grimoire as a justification for him to see Blitz. But soon he realized in time it wasn't right, but only because he felt guilty that was only reason they stayed together. He didn't take consideration of Blitz feelings at all-hence, why he was so horrified and heartbroken at realizing Blitz thought so little of him. So he puts distance between them because of this knowledge they have no further obligation to each other. BUT, he is a hypocrite in not understanding the mindset of the imp hierarchy, or even listen some of Blitz points? He was really upset over Blitz knowing someone tried to kill him, WHEN THE ENTIRE POINT OF EPISODE 2 OF HIM HIRING IMP WAS FOR PROTECTION AGAINST ANY ASSASSIN? And Stolas did have powers to typically protect himself. But yes, Blitz still should have told him, because of the possibility of Octavia also in danger being on the table. Its almost like he won't hear of Blitz feelings on the matter, or even try to understand, which is crucial to solid relationships.

Next, is Blitz. He's so full of self hatred that even Verosika knew he belonged into the hate Blitzo party. He lost lots of relationships because of his incapability to see his own worth, and how that ultimately makes him hate being vulnerable and severing ties once they get too close. He's very aware of his actions but doesn't want accountability because he has enough hatred for himself that t was easier to handle than everyone else's feelings about him. He already feels guilt about losing his family and Fizz, and why he was so relieved having at least one back in his life. He also believes that the hierarchy is unjust to imps and has seen Stolas emphasize it during their Full Moon meetings, so it is somewhat plausible why he thinks Stolas is entitled and pompous. He let his feelings get best of him during their fight and the fear of losing a ground with Stolas made him slip up. He really thinks he's all big d**k energy when in actuality he's just being a d**k in many cases. Maybe he was a different lover to Stolas than everyone else, and maybe Stolas was desperate to just have him back in his life, but Blitzo acting like he's the bad guy for being classist is rich considering he's all talk and not a generous lover and always assumes everyone is same based on categories. He's equally as classist as Stolas- he's just more verbal about it.

So yeah, it looks like they're back to square 1, or even -10. It seems like Blitzo has more growth to do and Stolas some more boyfriends to experience. I heard Vassago is a very real candidate to filling that role. I do wonder if Blitz will date anyone else in mean time- we'll just have to see what happens.

Also- slurs has become my new favorite quote for this show!!!

[llitchilitchi]

to preface this, this is not hate i just kept rambling bc i do feel strongly abt the matter, apologies and feel free to disregard if you'd rather not have discourse on your blog. kick was literally (co) founded by people who felt that twitch's policies and their enforcement against hate speech, slurs, etc (which aren't that great to begin with) were too restrictive. adin ross is a co-owner, or at least he has claimed as much and not been challenged by kick itself. that platform has a userbase that absolutely would harass the kind of people in sapnap's audience, so being in his chat or watching list really just puts a target on them/us. and kick's moderation tools are infamously poor. like yes, twitch needs to be toppled from its monopoly but not at the cost of giving a larger piece of the proverbial pie to kick of all places. twitch's leadership is interested in profit at the expense of their employees and users both, and they have no interest in protecting or empowering marginalized creators or users. it's shit, but it's ultimately a matter of them not caring, while kick's leadership is actively hostile to marginalized people, and that is going to make a difference in what changes can be made at all. (and about amazon, kick still uses amazon servers and webservices for the actual streaming portion of their platform, so... ) finally, while i absolutely agree that the way twitch treats its streamers, including things like the revenue split, is horrid, quite a bit of sapnap's stated reasoning about things like twitch not offering him a contract (beyond regular partner i guess) or the ceo not knowing him, are kind of... not unreasonable when you look at how much he has actually USED twitch. he's had the sapnap account for years and only streamed three hundred odd hours, even if you add the alt streams it's... not that much. and most of all, it's never really been consistent. he may stream every day for like a week but then its months of nothing outside like, mcc. only going live for special events isn't going to net one a big contract, and there is only so far the fame of being one of the OG dsmp members will get you. i like sapnap, but i think if he truly believes kick's ceos making vague non-specific promises of "making the site better" he is being naive, because what they're looking for it most definitely just another "famous" name (big mcyt internet phenomenon or whatever) and title (nrg co-owner) they can use to advertise their site and legitimize it. going by his paste bin, they played at his ego, and because he felt slighted by twitch (not entirely unfairly given how twitch sucks in supporting and even just appreciating or fairly paying their creators), he took it. trying to migrate his fanbase over to a platform headed and controlled by people who actively hate the people making up most of that fanbase is, frankly, ludicrous. but kick doesn't need his viewers, they need his name, so why would they care? like yes, generally even founders can be replaced eventually, but in this case, these owners also own the crypto gambling bank thing that funds all of kick, so you can't really force them out unless or until the platform can carry itself - and the multiple other attempts at making twitch competitors kind proved that that is hard to achieve. they control the money, they control the platform, and if they want the platform to be a space where they and those like them can be as hateful and bigoted as they want, that's what it's going to be.

these are all very valid points, and I hope my response to this won't come off as a massive BUT in defense of kick

that platform sucks. that much is obvious, and if Ross is really the co-owner that's just all the more reason to feel unsafe to be there. I don't know nearly enough about all their policies and given everything that has been said about them I never really had much interest in looking into them further. it's just another site that is full of toxic hypermasc culture

I won't go and defend Sapnap's decision to move there, either, but I think there is a lot he is not telling us (be it because he is unsure or because of contracts) that made him feel that a move like this is worth it. he isn't stupid, he knows his fanbase is massive and consists of many marginalized groups, so if he thought that kick is better than twitch even with a massively queer and poc fanbase, he must have had his reasons. I doubt he didn't talk this through with Dream, George, his managers etc.

I also don't want to entirely y'know defend twitch with their policies. cause their policies regarding hate speech are absolutely shit. remember when they banned the word "simp"? because people didn't like it? but did absolutely nothing about all the sexual harrassment going on? yeah. I also want to add that my automod that twitch provides is sometimes more than unreliable and censored a regular for saying "long gay cat" in chat. loosening the restrictions will definitely cause damage to those who deserve to be protected the most, but the restrictions did little to protect them to begin with, in my experience.

from what I remember of early twitch it was pretty loose like kick is now. big names coming in might result in tightening policies, even if that comes off as wishful thinking. all platforms ended up doing so, sooner or later.

what I do find a little ridiculous is how people insist that the majority of the userbase of kick are the type to harass Sapnap's fans which, while true, should not matter as much as we make it out to be? I genuinely doubt that they will all immediately flock to Sapnap's channel and spam slurs in chat and be in such overwhelming numbers it will be unbearable. and if it was, and became a regular issue, Sapnap would definitely do something about it. unless the majority of their userbase is likely to open streams of chill people and then target every person in chat

I dunno, it's much ado about nothing so far, we only got an announcement and it's hard to judge how things will play out after the move. it's fair that streamers, especially with as big a following as Sapnap, want better deals out of twitch. I don't know about them but the affiliate deals are not that great and very far from fair. moving to kick might not be the best thing but honestly, what other choice is there other than maybe YouTube?

we're all panicking ahead of time as this fandom has a tendency to, so idk. let's all take a deep breath and see how things play out before jumping into conclusion. it's certainly gonna be a lot less bad than people insist, and worst case scenario I'm sure the vods will be reuploaded to YT by some good samaritan.

[amoebab22]

I completely agree with this. I feel like this is one of the worst parts about Veilguard. My Inky is in the South, and while I firmly believe Orlais is the devil, it's very weird that Tevinter is just super chill about my elf Rook when my elf Inky had constant micro-aggressions as well as just out and out slurs hurled at her. Also I'm going on a rant about Mythal.

SPOILERS BELOW

Bellara also seems to just...kind of ignore that I'm an elf? Davrin makes more sense. He left his clan and joined the Wardens because he just didn't really vibe with the Dalish. He'd think of himself as a Warden first, I think. Wardens don't seem to give much of a shit about your race or religion or sexuality or whatever. In The Calling, they canonically don't give a fuck about the gay couple in their little group, or that Fiona is a mage and an elf. Absolutely irrelevant. So Davrin could start to fall into that mindset because frankly, it's a nice way to live. It's just not real outside the Wardens.

So when Bellara is like oh my god our gods are evil and Davrin is like eh, fuck 'em, that's actually about the most realistic reaction we've got re: elves. Davrin is just out here like yo I'm a little busy saving the world fuck them gods. Love Davrin.

Also, in Inquisition, there's concern that knowing Corypheus's artifact is Elvhen will cause violence against elves. So knowing it's the Elvhen gods causing all of this? The consequences of that, even if an elf Rook saves the world, should be looming for a Shadow Dragon in particular. Clearly Inquisitor Ameridan's race did nothing for the elves of Orlais. It was covered up over time. His sacrifice meant nothing to the humans. This should make Solas's plans to restore the elves much, much more tempting.

The way the Crows were presented REALLY bothered me as well as someone who romanced Zev. The Crows *tortured* him, sexually assaulted him, made him feel worthless, because it was seen as necessary. Sure, Lucanis being blood family might give him a very different perspective and experience, but Jacobus is just allowed to be a Crow and start his own house when he wouldn't kill? I mean, I totally agree that prolonged, public shaming and imprisonment is worse for this individual, but like.... That's not how the Crows work. They kill stuff for money. Sure, they run Antiva and would be pretty pissed off about the Antaam taking their territory I'm sure, and they might work with Rook since Rook helped Lucanis and he's a big deal to the First Talon. But like... It should be a hard choice to work with them for Shadow Dragon Rook, because SLAVERY.

I feel like the pullback on slavery is to make Solas's actions seem more ambiguous, and to make it seem like there was some equal power between him and Mythal. But I have a very hard time believing he was never Mythal's slave. Also, a spirit of BENEVOLENCE? Get ABSOLUTELY fucked. She was fine with SLAVERY. Thought she could just slowly phase it out, maybe. Yeah, no .

Because here's the thing: slavery is evil. Whatever you have to do to stop slavery, short of participating or killing slaves, is pretty easy to justify. Maybe I'm just John Brown-pilled from living in Kansas a good chunk of my life, but killing slavers and slave owners and freeing slaves is MORALLY CORRECT. FULL STOP. A "kind" master is still a master. Sure, you can give them a chance to free their slaves and make reparations first, but waiting to vote slavery out didn't work. The US had to go to war. Haiti had to rebel (and give basically all its GDP to France for like two hundred years. Fuck Orlais AND France).

The only reason my Inky was able to befriend Dorian, at first, was their shared trauma in going to the future. That changes people (that whole quest fucked me up the first time I did it) and I think my elf Inky was looking for reasons to trust Dorian and ignore the system he participated in. She didn't have to see it so it seemed less real. He's an altus so he doesn't own the estate. He seems open to other opinions! And some part of him knows it's wrong, or he wouldn't be so awkward upon talking to Inky the first time.

But Solas's inherent and never fully overcome distrust of Dorian isn't wrong. Solas needs to see action; words aren't enough. I don't blame him.

This is the same softening we saw of the Templars in DA2 and Inquisition, but if you read The Stolen Throne and The Calling and play DAO, it's very clear that mages are oppressed by the Chantry and live in horrible conditions. The ones in Lake Calenhad are described as pale and kinda sickly looking (or something like that) because they don't get any fucking sunlight. Fiona is happy to go to the circle at first because she was a SLAVE in Orlais (Honestly Loghain's hatred of Orlais is justified even though his actions aren't). If you decide to allow the right of annulment or whatever in DAO, Zevran calls it genocide. Zevran isn't one to mince words. He doesn't pretend he isn't a killer or that he wasn't tortured.

My Inky and my Rook are both 'no gods no masters' types, which is why I think clan Lavellan sent their First on a risky mission supposedly by herself (got real sick of her shit lol). As a result, she heavily sympathizes with Solas's cause, and would have happily joined him in bringing down the Veil if he'd just agreed to spend time making sure as few people died as possible, particularly after she meets the Avvar and sees how spirits really are. She knows Solas better than anyone, and even without a full explanation, she'd know that his reasons for doing this were morally right. He freed her people. He never meant to hurt them. He can't live with his guilt. Inky (who in my game was more like 30 because I don't think she could have made decisions or led on her own at 20, nor would she have been a studied enough mage) wants freedom for everyone. She's chaotic good.

Rook is a Shadow Dragon who killed slavers a little too hard for an organization dedicated to killing slavers (based Rook). They're also chaotic good, and a bit of an idiot, bless them, who kinda sees everything as a nail because they have a hammer. They see slavery, they fight it. Fuck the consequences. Solas did the same.

So why is Rook not bringing up slavery a lot? Why is Rook only finding out that Solas freed slaves on the regular at the beginning of the game? Did Varric just decide that wasn't worth bringing up to a person whose entire life revolves around ending slavery? Why is Rook not having an existential crisis after talking to Solas and finding out the truth of his past in his memories?

Look, all I'm saying is that I don't understand why more people aren't angry with Mythal and why no one is talking about slavery and racism. The whole point of fantasy and sci-fi, and the point of Dragon Age, is to critique modern society through thinly veiled references. That's why people get so passionate about Star Trek. And yeah, yes, it's necessarily going to make a piece of media more niche, or people are going to bitch about it (especially gamer bros my dude calm down, sorry something is very briefly not about you), but it makes a game *good* and lasting

BG3 did a good job of exploring the themes of trauma and power imbalance, and while some characters I think needed more fleshing out (Wyll my beloved, I owe you a lengthy fanfic for the injustice done to you), it was particularly powerful in Astarion. The people are ready for real exploration of real issues. We always have been. Backing off was a mistake.

ANYWAY I have feelings and none of my friends share my special interest. Here you go.

Why Fenris could Never Cameo in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

In the run up to Dragon age: The Veilguard, I was almost certain that Fenris would be our main legacy character from previous games. Not only has he been central in the comics released between DAI and DATV, he is an escaped Tevinter slave who's plot revolved around magisters, magic and the structural prejudices surrounding elves in Thedas. Not only that, but he's canonically in Tevinter killing slavers currently so he's geographically in the right place for us to meet him.

About halfway through the game though, it was clear to me: Fenris could never cameo in The Veilguard. Because he'd break it.

How the Veilguard treats Thedas is...odd to me, to say the least. I will be writing another post about how much I adored the expanded big lore in this game (the titans, ancient elves were spirits, where the blight came from etc.) and yet while these large lore expansions worked for me, the actual culture of modern Thedas is entirely softened, its sharp edges filed down until it's a sanitised fantasy world devoid of what made the franchise so vibrant and compelling in the first place.

So let's start with Fenris and slavery. In all three games, the reality of slavery is pushing at the corners of the world. In DAO Loghain allows Tevinter Magisters to enslave elves in order to raise money for his war effort. In DA2 Fenris is fighting to be free from slavers who will not leave him be, let alone the reminders that the city was built by slaves which are everywhere. In DAI one of the two possible mini-bosses is Calpurnia who was a slave, and characters such as Gatt and Dorian both show us how much slavery is tied into Tevinters culture and success.

But DATV the first game actually set in Tevinter where we get to see the famed Minrathous...it's like the game purposefully wants to avoid the issue. I can feel it tilting the camera away to not allow me to see. Slavery is mentioned, but never talked about in depth or as a specifically ELVEN problem in Tevinter. This might have been done to be less problematic, it feels ignored.

We are in DOCK TOWN. We are at the DOCKS. You would think that slaves from all over Thedas who are being smuggled and bought by various groups would be everywhere. You would think that the injustice in dock town would be partly built on the back of ships we've seen in the comics crammed with elves in chains. This is the world Dragon age set up for us. And yet...nothing. zilch. A tiny easily skippable side quest where we free a couple of venatori slaves, but only one of whom is an elf.

None of our Tevinter characters seem to have been influenced by their culture even a little bit when it comes to how they view elves; there is no moment when Neve fucks up and says something prejudiced, no moment when Bellara or Davrin are distrustful of her for being a Tevinter mage.

The same goes for Zevran; a character who epitomised the issues with the crows. The crows have consistently been characterised as very morally dubious assassins who kill for the highest bidder and who buy children on the slave market and torture them as they grow in order to assure that they reach maturity able to withstand torture without giving away a client's name. Zevran is very explicit about the fact that if you fail a contract your life is forefit.

Nobody responds particularly to you if you're an elf. Nobody trusts rook less for it in Tevinter. Nobody treats Rook any differently. Even DAI had better mechanics for this; with nobles in Orlais less likely to trust you as an elf.

Considering one of the main plot points of this game and what makes Solas sympathetic is the fact that he was fighting against the slavery of ancient elves...you'd think the game might want to mirror that in modern Thedas. It might want to show us how characters fighting to end slavery in Tevinter are similar to Solas and how the society Solas fought against was similar to the one that characters we love such as Fenris have fought against in modern Thedas. Maybe we'd want to explore how in a world of slavery like this, how could the answer NOT be to tear it all down? Maybe we should have that option at the end of the game so it really can chose whether we agree with Solas and his plans or not.

Adding Fenris to this game would entirely break the game because Fenris refuses to allow you to look away from this horror. He is a sympathetic character who had to learn to trust mages again because of course he didn't trust them. Of course he didn't. Fenris wouldn't allow the camera to shift focus because he's literally covered in the lyrium scars that show how slaves are used as experiments in Tevinter. Fenris WOULD question Neve on how she feels about elves and slaves. Fenris WOULD have things to say about Lucanis and the crows (let alone the fact Lucanis is an abomonation). So he could never be in this game; he'd drop a bomb on it's carefully constructed blinders to the very society its supposed to be set in.

And yet, in DATV, the crows are presented as...a found family of misfits and orphans? The politician who opposes the crows having absolute power in Antiva is framed as a comically evil idiot who doesn't understand that the crows are ontologically good. Yet...they're NOT. Crows in this game act more like a secret rebel group than an assassin organisation. We see no crow taking contracts with the VERY RICH venatori magisters despite being hired killers. We see crows just refuse to kill people despite having a contract because 'its crueler to leave them alive'. The crows don't feel like the crows here, they feel like a softened version of a cool assassin group who are cool because they wear black and purple.

Our pirate group are also sanitised; the Lords of Fortune are good pirates who only steal treasure that's not culturally significant. Theyve clearly read the modern critiques of the British Museum and have decided to explicitly stop anyone levelling similar critiques at them. There is no faction of the Lords of Fortune who aren't like this, no internal arguments about it. Everyone just. Agrees. And is able to accurately tell what a cultural artifact is vs. what treasure that you can have yourself is. Rather than showing us why a pirate stealing cultural artifacts might be bad (like in da2 where such a situation literally causes a coup and a war) it just tells us it's bad. But also pirates are cool so we still want them in our world.

This issue seaps into Thedas and drains it of any of the interesting complexity and ability to SAY anything that this franchise had before this game. It becomes a game about telling and not showing rather than the other way around. The games have ALWAYS asked questions about oppressive structural systems and their interplay with society, religion and culture and how these things can affect even the most well meaning character. Dragon age at its best IS a game about society and how society functions both for and against it's characters and what happens to societies built on cruelty and indifference. The best bad guys dragon age has given us are those who are bad because they embody these systems or have been shaped by them. Our main characters have had to wrestle with questions surrounding how to exist in these systems, fight against them, learn and grow.

Yet every group you come across in DATV is sanitised and cleaned up to the point of being as non problematic as humanly possible. None of our cast of characters have to wrestle with where they came from or the world that shaped them. None of them have to confront their own biases. They start the game perfectly non-problematic and end it that way too.

And this just...isn't what Dragon Age has been in the past. It isn't why I love the franchise. The whole game just felt, in a way, hollow. And this was a CHOICE and it is why the legacy characters are few and far between. Too many dragon age characters are just too...angry and complex for this game. You can feel them pulling their punches on this one. I have to imagine they did this because they didn't want to be criticised or have too much controversy? But I think it honestly goes far too much in the other direction and just makes it bland.

I can't imagine what I say here will be unique, but it is the basis for a LOT of my other thoughts on this game so I wanted to get it out of the way first. The softened Thedas and characters make this game by far the weakest in the franchise.

[paperpocalypse]

white rabbit.

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”: 2. Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,874 words

Warnings: Swearing, panic attack

His idiot siblings are going to give him a goddamn aneurysm.

The hum of the Commission briefcase – which is now in 2019 without a single person attached to it – rings in Five’s ears, mocking. He resists the urge to scream and tear all of his hair out. All that work – wasted!

“Now what?” Luther asks as Five paces up and down the alley.

What do you think, you doorknob? “Now nothing, Luther, all right? Make your peace with God.”

“What? What about Allison and Vanya?”

“Screw them both. They should have been here.” Five’s irritated pacing turns into a run, and he furiously kicks a cardboard box. God, the alley smells like vomit and shit. Everything is shit! “Ugh!”

“What about Diego?” Klaus slurs out his two cents from his place on the ground. Useless puke bag. “He's quite a responsible young man, no?”

“Something must’ve happened to them,” says Luther.

Fuck that. Wherever they are, they’ll be dead soon enough. Does nobody understand that? Dead! Dead! Dead!

“Screw Diego, all right? Screw everybody!” Five seethes. “[Y/n] and I were better off in the apocalypse.”

He turns on his heel, trying to suppress the rising panic in his bones. Something catches his arm.

Your brow is furrowed when he meets your gaze, mouth set in a thin, worried line. “Five,” you murmur, voice soft.

A tiny sting of regret worms its way into his chest at your expression. But then he thinks of the briefcase, and the Handler, and he quickly looks away.

“Five!” Luther admonishes, casting you a concerned glance. “Come on.”

His brother’s tone grates on the last of Five’s nerves. Gritting his teeth, he advances on the large man. Your hand slips away.

“You know what, Luther? It's every sibling for himself now.” Five throws his arms out in a grand gesture, then makes his way over to the door. “How ’bout that?”

Yanking the door open, he storms into the building.

Five tries to think as he stomps up staircase after staircase, but he can’t hold onto a thought for more than a few seconds before it disappears into a muddle of static. Concentrate. He just needs to get to the flat and think of a new plan, yeah, again, and try to save the world for the millionth fucking time – he stumbles over a step and then rights himself, legs numb. His chest feels tight. Come on. Keep moving. Think, think! God!

You’re calling his name. He doesn’t answer.

There is another way. A Hail Mary. But what if they waste that last chance too?

He swears underneath his breath, heart pounding. Blood roars in his ears. He tightens his grip on the railing and tries to even out his breathing.

Shit. Now is not the time. He needs to get out of this stairwell. Everything is so cramped and it’s not helping at all –

“… Five.”

You’re behind him, and then you’re in front of him, and Five meets a blurry set of eyes for the second time. Breathe. Breathe.

“Do you want to go back outside?” you ask softly.

No more stairs. “Flat,” he manages to reply, gesturing messily at the door a few feet away. Just somewhere with some space. In. Out.

You nod.

Several minutes later, he’s sitting on the bed in the room that Elliott had given him, blazer folded over the footboard, face damp with sweat and tucked into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down.

Your hands treat him gently, rubbing circles into his back and wiping his face. He grips your shirt until his knuckles are white.

“You can get through this,” you say to him. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

Five tries. He really does. A shudder wracks his body. You inhale. He inhales. Exhale. Exhale.

“Good job.”

Something wet runs down his cheek. Fuck.

Both relief and shame fill him when you dry his cheek with your sleeve.

It’s absolute shit, however long it lasts – Five doesn’t know how long. Too long. But you’re there the whole time, holding him like you’ve done before, and it helps even though he’s too embarrassed to admit as much. You help a lot.

As the hammering in his chest finally slows to dull thuds, he takes in another deep, slow breath, and loosens his grip.

“I’ll get you some water?” you ask. He moves his head in some semblance of a nod. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Carefully, you detach yourself from him; the mattress creaks as you stand up and leave. Five swallows, staring down at his hands. The air feels slightly chilly on the side of his face that had been pressed against you, and he uses the comforter to quickly scrub away the dampness. His eyes ache.

You return soon enough with a glass of cold water. He sips slowly at first, then gulps the rest of it down. You put the empty glass onto the nightstand and brush his hair away from his eyes.

“You need to rest.”

The word brings a brief wave of longing. Then stress follows soon after, and Five steels himself. “I need to come up with another plan,” he mutters.

Even though he’s not looking at you, he feels the sudden burn of your gaze as you put your hands on his shoulders. “After you rest.”

“The apocalypse –”

“Is still a few days from now.” Your words take on a honeyed, coaxing tone. “There’s not much else we can do today, so sleep. Please. I’ll take care of things while you’re away.”

You press down, and despite his previous protest, Five doesn’t resist.

“… Thanks,” he vaguely hears himself mumble.

When his head touches the pillow, it feels as if all his muscles give way. His eyelids immediately feel heavy.

The last thing he’s aware of is you taking off his shoes.

—

Five is thoroughly conked out by the time you pull the blankets over him, and after giving his forehead a tender peck, you tiptoe out of the bedroom and shut the door with a quiet sigh.

Now on to business.

The rest of the Hargreeves siblings, as well as Sissy and Harlan Cooper, sit up slightly as you stride into the living room. You make a point of looking at each one of them individually, cross your arms, and then speak.

“I believe explanations are in order.”

Diego is the one who speaks first. “I ran into Lila,” he says, maintaining eye contact with you. “She tried to drag me to the Commission while I was burying Elliott.”

“I see,” is all you say. “Allison?”

“Some men came in and attacked Ray and me at the house,” she explained. “Otherwise, I would have been on time.”

“Did you kill them?”

“I made them leave.”

“All right. Vanya?”

“Carl called the police to stop us on the way here. I had to deal with them.”

Sissy and Harlan are not supposed to be here. Based on the hard look Vanya is giving you, she knows that. You close your eyes and breathe out softly.

“All right. Well, I can’t change the past, and the briefcase is already lost, so I’m not going to shout about how everything should’ve gone,” you eventually tell them, eyebrows drawn. “I just want to talk to you about Five.”

“What's wrong with him?” Diego asks.

Klaus answers for you. “He’s pissed.”

Luther agrees solemnly. You frown.

“He’s stressed. Yes, he’s angry, but he’s mostly stressed and worried sick.” You uncross your arms. “Do you know what he did to get that briefcase?”

The siblings blink at you.

“He assassinated the board of directors,” you say. “I know you don’t know much about the Commission, but what he did was a big deal and very dangerous. And he did it for you. He does everything for you, because you’re his family, and he cares about you.”

“He has a hard time showing us,” Diego mutters.

“And you guys seem to have a hard time showing him,” you return. “It just … it feels like you see the apocalypse as Five’s problem. And maybe mine as well, but not yours. I understand that you’ve had to adapt and make a life here, but none of you except for Sissy and Harlan belong in this time. Whatever we’ll have to do from now on will require all of us to stay together. We can’t risk another doomsday.”

“Doomsday?” Sissy speaks up, alarmed. “What’s this about a doomsday?”

Vanya shifts. “It’s …” She touches Sissy’s hand gently. “It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you later, okay? You and Harlan don’t have to worry about it. We’ll fix it.”

“We will,” you confirm, nodding at the pair. “As long as everyone does what they’re supposed to.”

Luther looks at you curiously. “Why are you telling us all of this and not Five?”

Why, indeed. Glancing back in the direction of the bedroom, you think of Five tucked away in bed for the first time since he landed in Dallas. Hopefully, he hasn’t snuck out. You’ll have to check on him soon.

“He’d be too stubborn to admit it. It took me a long time to find out how much he sacrificed to help me in the apocalypse. And the Commission.” You smile frankly. “What’s more, he’s resting now. It’s been a long two weeks.”

“Shit,” Klaus mutters. “I forgot about the time thing. The old man must be one apocalypse away from a heart attack.”

“Yes. He’s not invincible.”

Everyone looks down awkwardly.

“We’re sorry for not making it. We didn't know. And we’ll tell him that.” Allison folds her hands tightly in her lap. “So what do we do now?”

Again, not much. Shrugging, you gesture to the couches and chairs that they’re sitting on. “Rest. Get cleaned up. Five and I will need to explore our options once he’s awake.”

With that, you turn and start making your way back to the guest room.

Vanya’s tentative voice stops you when you’re halfway through the kitchen. “Let us know when he wakes up?”

The other siblings voice their agreement. A genuine smile touches your lips. “I will,” you answer, pleased.

The murmuring in the living room fades as you continue walking. When you reach the bedroom, you gingerly open the door and poke your head inside.

Five is exactly where you had left him, tucked in with the blankets up to his chin and dead to the world. Soft snores reach your ears as you creep closer. Good. Seating yourself at the edge of the mattress, you run your fingers through his hair.

For the rest of the evening and most of the night, you watch over Five, keeping quiet and re-tucking the sheets around him whenever he stirs. He doesn’t open his eyes once. His siblings drift in occasionally, individually or in pairs, each of them looking every bit like they’re entering a lion’s den until you smile and beckon them closer. None of them speak, but they don’t need to. You can only hope that Five won’t be too angry with them in the morning.

A lot of work will need to be done then. But for now, your partner needs to sleep.

[retrogalwrites]

smelly gamer shigaraki x gf reader

Title: “Washing service” / view on ao3

Summary: There's is only one way to make Shigaraki take a bath. surprise, it’s nasty.

Contents: titfucking/paizuri, masturbation, shiggy’s nasty cum, humilliation, Shigaraki being a smelly bad bf

words: 1565

"Tomura please, you seriously stink."

Repeating yourself for perhaps the 5th time, you stood by the man with a look on your face that somehow seemed both demanding and pleading, hands firmly set on your hips even if you were, quite frankly, exhausted. "You need to take a shower, it's been what, over a week?" More or less, certainly, but keeping exact tract of the numbers was bound to only frustrate you further, it was better not to.

Shigaraki was a very messy man, with hygienic habits that were less than ideal, you had known that from the start, but it usually never got this bad. With a little bit of nudging from your side he usually got around doing at least the bare minimum to take care of himself.

The thing was that, he had recently gotten a brand new video game. Single player farming type of game, or something, you didn't really care. What you cared about was how he had become completely addicted to it, and had refused to step away from his computer for the past few days. It was out of the question that he needed to take a break, and shower. It was not an unreasonable concern, nor an unreasonable request, if anything you thought of yourself reasonable to a fault.

But just like the previous times, expected at that point, Shigaraki didn't bother to even spare you a pity glance, only kept on staring at the monitors in front of him, hands on his keyboard. Leisurely plopped down on his gaming chair, posture somehow as bad as it had been before he bought it, Shigaraki groaned at you.

"God, stop nagging me already." That curt, dismissive reply was accompanied by a roll of his eyes that made you frown. "Can't you fucking see I'm busy? I'll get to that eventually, now buzz off."

"But you've been playing for days without a break, please just—"

"Shut the fuck up already."

He raised his voice. You hated when he did that, and it made you flinch. It easily turned that frown into a crestfallen expression, something Shigaraki noticed through the reflection of the monitor. Unsurprisingly, that made him grin suddenly, dry lips curving sardonically, and only then he finally tore his eyes away from the game to turn and look at you. That look prolonged into a quiet stare, his expression becoming something like pensive and amused.

It was a small win, but not enough, and you were getting desperate. And, as if knowing exactly what was going through your mind, Shigaraki breathed through his nose, then huffed.

"If you are that fucking desperate why don't you bathe me yourself, huh?" His grin could only grow when you looked at him with those big doe-like eyes, a little surprised and a little flustered. And with resolve, you replied only a little hesitantly.

"I will do anything."

————

The bathroom was, in contrast to his much messier bedroom, a tidy spot coated in pearly white tiles and walls, most pristine with how much you often cleaned up the place, knowing that he wouldn't if you didn't.

Inside, you had gotten Shigaraki naked sitting on a stool, already waiting impatiently. The bathtub had only finished filling up with hot water, and you knew that if you didn't start right away, he'd abruptly change his mind without sparing you another thought.

You were equally naked too, of course, that was the real catch of the entire idea. Shigaraki was very predictable on that aspect at least, for better or worse. And it wouldn't even cross your mind, not for one second, to refuse either.

So, with a sponge and scented soap in hand, you sat bare right behind him. Sucking in some air, you brought the shower head to him and started spraying cool water down his back.

It wasn't a surprise he had been smelling unpleasantly, as you saw how the skin of his back was coated on a light layer of dirt and grime. Rubbing the soap against the damp sponge, you made sure it was coated in slippery foam before you started scrubbing Shigaraki's back with it.

You had barely started when he called out with annoyance, his voice low, like his breath was quickening.

"Hey, hey, you aren't putting enough effort."

You flinched, paused, then in full understanding of what he meant, quickly sprayed the front of your body with the shower head. The water wasn't cold, but it was cool enough that your tender nipples already had begun hardening. Scooping a bit of foam from the sponge, you lathered it over your breasts with a hand, making sure they were slippery with water and soap.

Then, leaning forward, you pressed your soft, soap coated breasts flush against the broadness of Shigaraki's back.

His reaction was immediate, a shudder rocked his body, muscles tensed and back arching to press into your breasts harder. A hissed moan slurring through gritted teeth.

"Ooh, fuck..."

You couldn't help but react as well, the sensation of skin against skin causing a violent shiver to run through you, thighs pressed together trying to relieve the sudden tickle that creeped up your core, a sudden need that you couldn't allow to distract you now.

So, like that started to scrub him down, starting from his back, to his slender neck, his strong shoulders. You cleaned him off slowly, dutifully while making sure that your round, slippery tits were rubbing all over him. After a minute or so, when you placed away the sponge and soap, moving your hands to pick up some shampoo, but Shigaraki turned to stop you. You stared at his face, lightly flushed and hot, his pupils dilated and positively hungry.

"Aren't you going to do the front too?"

He asked with urgency, his voice hoarse, but it sounded like a demand.

"In a moment, I need to wash your hair and—"

Trying to explain was futile, Shigaraki had already turned around to face you entirely, it was then that you could see his erection, cock already fully hard and throbbing, the supple head of his cock hitting his abdomen. You helplessly stared at it, a sudden heat pooling between your already slick thighs. You mouthed a simple 'oh'.

Shigaraki stood up then, towering over you with his hard, dirty cock being placed mere inches from your face. The potent smell of his musk and arousal was overpowering, and it made you wrinkle your nose. You didn't get a chance to speak up however, and whatever you may have said was lost when a moan was ripped off your lips as Shigaraki roughly groped both of your tits.

"If you aren't going to do it then I'll just use these fat tits to clean my cock."

And immediately he was plunging himself in between your breasts, using his fingers to dig into the soft flesh and squeeze it around his cock, the shaft buried in the valley of your tits. Shigaraki shuddered, lips tightening as a groan purred at his throat before he began thrusting his hips into your cleavage, using the foam coated, slippery mounds of flesh to rub his cock throughly.

You whined, gasping at the painful stimulation on your chest, his bruising touch on your breasts while his hot cock slipped in and out of them, the slickness of the soap making it easy. Your brows furrowed, and you were bitting your lips, the need between your legs becoming unbearable.

Without even thinking, you brought your own fingers to your pussy, digits entering through your puffy folds. Your walls tightened around your own fingers, as you fucked yourself with them in desperation.

Shigaraki noticed such lewd act, of course, and an ample sadistic grin twisted his features.

"Ooh you really like this, don't you? My filthy cock fucking your tits? You damn slut, touching yourself."

Despite his own desperation, Shigaraki was never above mocking you, laughing lowly and grinning down at your flushed face.

Teasing your engorged clit, you knew how to drive yourself to the high of orgasm quite quickly, pinching the sensitive nub as you fingered yourself, and Shigaraki used your breasts like toy for his own pleasure. When you felt the hard buds of your nipples rubbing against his shaft, you meekly mewled his name, back arching and toes curling, your orgasm reaching its peak as your insides clamped down on your fingers, coating them in the slick of your release.

"Ahh, Tomura!"

Just watching you cum was enough to fire him up. "Fuck, fuck...I'm going to cum." He huffed, brows furrowing and grip on you tightening. He was about to blow his load.

"I'm going to cum between these slutty tits."

He groaned, head lolling back as he shut his eyes, body shivering while he kept his cock snugly wrapped by your breasts. Soon the feeling of his hot, smelly semen flooding your cleavage was the only thing you could think of. Shigaraki shot thick jets of cum all over your breasts, coating your skin with it until you were but a sticky mess.

You tried to stand up on wobbly feet, already walking towards the towels to try clean yourself up, but Shigaraki stopped you, roughly grabbing you by the wrist.

"Where do you think are you going?" His red eyes started at yours, wide smile stretching his chapped lips. "Get in the tub."

[literaphobe]

Two questions:

1. What do you feel about CorpsexSykunno ship?

I feel like it's MarkiplierxJacksepticeye all over again, starts out innocent and turns uncomfortable.

(Also I think real people shipping is gross in general)

2. Dream smp makes me so nervous, not necessarily because of any of the members but due to (1) the history of online teams dominated (and lead) by male influencers, (2) minecraft youtube's general history of exploiting fans. I feel like it's going to end badly. You seem to be enjoying it tho, and it's definitely up my alley, should I get into it?

1. Corpse and Sykkuno are not comfortable being shipped! Neither of them are okay with being shipped with ANY of their friends in general, so like, don’t do it, or if u do like. i guess just don’t say anything about it? it’s really not hard to just enjoy their friendship. like it’s an endearing friendship n there’s nothing wrong w liking it. but. nothing more u know. plus both of them have made it clear on several occasions that they’re both straight and my gaydar agrees JFKDKDK like they’re just. Friends. Who care about each other :)

I definitely think it’s not like the markiplier x jacksepticeye situation, because for one u have jack himself telling people not to ship etc etc and also BECAUSE of that u have people actively policing any form of shipping. it’s honestly gotten to the point where it’s annoying but i genuinely don’t think it’s that big a problem, plus the rising popularity of the amigops puts less pressure on one-on-one corpse + sykkuno interactions, since people now wanna see all four of them play games together n not just corpse n sykkuno!

2. I get why Dream SMP would make u nervous. An interesting thing I realized when I started finding out more about people on that server is that there’s marginally more poc on it than I previously thought and also A LOTTTTT more lgbt+ people than i previously thought. Like genuinely why are so many of u so gay. And like that affects the stories being told obviously. Like. I don’t think it’s perfect n I don’t follow EVERY person on the SMP, just like i obviously don’t know everything about every minecraft YouTuber like fkdkdkdk i would say the only people i watch are dream, george, quackity (and even then i haven’t seen most of quackity’s YouTube videos) and like I’ve seen a couple of tommyinnit’s videos Fjdjdjdj and sapnap obviously but he has like 10 videos and i watch Karl’s streams if certain people are on it. yeah i think that’s about it like i do like the feral boys (dream george karl quackity sapnap) and i have seen maybe one or two skeppy videos

Anyway I get ur concerns about online circles dominated by male influencers too. but quite frankly compared to past circles ive seen its genuinely not that bad and also. In terms of holding them accountable, I think mcyttwt makes VERY sure of that (which honestly has devolved into a problem. because privileged haters will dig up stuff on creators that either a. has been addressed properly or b. is just. several years old and i don’t like how minorities are being weaponized. also i cannot stress how little i care that some minecraft YouTuber said the r slur 10 years ago when they literally never do it now. like. i worry so much because so many of these stans who think they’re ‘educating’ are just wearing themselves out n burning themselves out. so many of them are minors too)

but like. the people i am kept up w definitely do take responsibility and accountability. like dream especially gets accused of stuff that’s either fake/not him or something that’s just like out of this world (e.g. accused of queerbaiting. w george. interestingly no one ever accuses george directly of doing this) and no matter what he like addresses it properly and accordingly. like looking at his journey as a creator over the past year he’s grown a LOT and changed so much and matured a lot and i think like. looking at how much he’s blowing up and how much more of a following he’ll gain. I feel much better that it’s him who has this following as compared to. Certain people. And like. It’s upsetting to see how a lot of people have this impression of him that’s objectively false? Due to all the fake stuff that gets spread by haters (most often white for some reason???)? Because genuinely he’s not the creator we need to be so worried about?

Anyway in terms of getting into mcyts in the dream smp. I knew who Dream was because he’s played among us w the amigops a lot n they all like him because he’s just a good natured amicable person. I vaguely knew who george was because of dnf n also people putting his stupid face on my tl all the time. I thought he was pretty n hated that I thought that. I don’t care anymore tho. Like what’s wrong w looking at pretty people. I deserve it. Anyway! I got into their videos through GEORGE first, funnily. I think Minecraft, But I’m Not Colorblind Anymore was the first one I watched and it’s very very good. It’s endearing because it’s George trying out colorblind glasses for the first time n he’s nervous but Dream is there with him to make him feel more comfortable. And also Dream is so happy n emotional (he talks about tearing up at the thought of George being able to see colors properly) and their friendship is just very endearing. The video starts w george taking a colorblind test and we find out he has protan colorblindness (severity: STRONG which makes them crack jokes about how George is SO strong 😤)

anyway these losers. Decide to test the colorblind glasses on colors in MINECRAFT because of course that’s the whole video and it’s really heartwarming to see George learn how colors look like again n Dream just being excited about it the whole time n then George taking the colorblind test again at the end but with the glasses on... n then u go on to watch more george videos but it’s the ANIMAL CHALLENGES. like George Speedruns Minecraft But His Friend Is (Insert Animal, This Animal Is Always Dream) and like...... yeah so I watched a bunch of George’s videos n I went onto dream’s channel out of curiosity

And i was like. What the fuck. These videos are so WEIRDLY named. What the fuck is Finale, Finale Rematch, Grand Finale???? But dream has adhd too and in hindsight I absolutely would’ve titled the videos in a similarly confusing way. Anyway dreams manhunt videos are...... a work of art. I swear to god like even if u don’t know jackshit about minecraft they are very entertaining and weirdly impressive.

Basically in Minecraft Manhunt: Dream has to beat the game, but his friends are there trying to kill him. If they kill him even ONCE, they win n the video ends. He’s allowed to kill them repeatedly though. Manhunt started with one hunter (George, to one’s surprise), then two hunters (Sapnap and George), three (Sapnap, George, BadBoyHalo), and now four (Sapnap, George, BadBoyHalo, Antfrost). The next stage is possibly 5 hunters but idk who is the fifth yet. Anyway the thing that’s so entertaining about minecraft manhunt is:

1) Dream’s Parkour & PVP skills, which he developed and trained over such a short period of time n got REALLY good, it’s satisfying to watch him do risky maneuvers n succeed, the ways he’ll jump from a high place but clutch w either water, blocks, horses, boats, scaffolding, etc, to escape from the hunters

2) Dream’s TRAPS, like he actually does research for possible plans n traps he could do to counter the hunters, since there’s so many of them and only one of him, and he can’t just fight them in combat exclusively, since he’ll lose eventually if he gets ganged up on. I won’t spoil any of his traps, but they’re very good and also very dramatic. It’s amazing

3) The banter and taunting!! The lies and tricks!! They’re all really close so it’s easy for them to crack jokes during a lull where neither party is engaged in a fight, they’re all on the same VC so they can potentially say stuff to trick each other, or they can hear the other team say stuff that gives them an edge

4) The editing. Like the pacing is incredible, and all the bgm used is SO good at setting the atmosphere n making things more tense n exciting etc. like “dream’s manhunt music” is honestly a meme at this point but he actually unironically uses it and it unironically makes the videos better. Also dream edits all the manhunt videos by himself!! he doesn’t hire editors to do it for him or anything

idk what else to say but yeah I watch most of dream n george’s YouTube videos and they’re in most of each other’s videos and I like their dynamic a lot!! Especially since they still have not met in real life but already know they want to like live together (forever, according to George), and it like reminds me of the friendships I have because most of my close friendships have been made online. And like. They remind me that online friendships aren’t actually inferior. That’s it :) sorry this is so long

[pluviophile-imagines]

In Your Arms: Shigaraki

In Your Arms: a collection of short fics about cuddling with various characters. Find the masterlist here. This one does double duty as my contribution to another BNHA Sanctuary collab, with fics based around the prompt “[....] is concerned because Y/N isn't sleeping.“ The masterlist for that is here!

You’re being annoying.

Well, that’s not quite accurate. You’re not being annoying, which is annoying. Tomura hadn’t come all the way to your apartment for you to ignore him and focus on studying. He’d come all the way here to ignore you and focus on playing video games, and act irritated by the way you’d slowly drape yourself over him more and more until you’d sit completely in his lap, obscuring his view and forcing him to put down the game in favor of paying attention to you. That’s how it’s supposed to work.

You’re not supposed to be laying sprawled out on your stomach with your textbooks and laptop out in front of you, only just touching him with a single bare foot draped over the back of the bed.

He can’t focus on his game when you’re being so difficult. His character dies again—jumps straight into a pit of lava—and he huffs at the grating death riff that plays over the all too familiar game-over screen. He starts the level again. It’s the sixth time.

When he’d sent you his usual im coming over text, he’d been surprised and slightly offended when you’d responded by telling him you were busy. He hadn’t seen it until he was at your townhouse, though, and your window was open like it always is when you invite him in, so he’d climbed up the trellis and slipped through. You’d greeted him with a tired, distracted murmur and hadn’t addressed him since, aside from pushing yourself down as he took his usual seat at the foot of your bed to nudge his shoulder just barely.

What are you studying for, again? Some big important exam for your hardest class, or so you’d told him. He doesn’t understand why you bother going to university; it’s not as if you’ll be needing a degree when you’re spending the rest of your life at his side. He also knows how much it means to you, though, and despite how he personally feels about higher education he doesn’t want you to fail. You’d be devastated. Beyond that, he does want you to succeed in the things you care about.

Tomura’s character dies again. This time he quits, growling and tossing the controller to the side. He doesn’t even bother turning off the console as he whips about where he’s seated to glare at you over the edge of the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s moved. That in itself makes his annoyance surge; he’s glaring harder as you flip over. When you begin to pull your legs back to sit up he surges forward to grab them and prevent you from moving away from him—carefully, always carefully, pinky fingers raised despite the double-digit gloves he wears to prevent any accidents.

“I told you I was busy,” you huff. “Not my fault you came over anyway.”

“You said you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I don’t mind it, I like spending time with you even when I have to be working on other things.”

“You’ve been working on other things for six days,” he grumbles. Nearly a week. This is his first time seeing you in nearly a week. It’s a miracle he hasn’t died from lack of attention, and you’re lecturing him on giving you space? His reasons for coming over aren’t even that selfish, damn you and your supernatural ability to make him drop everything to make sure you’re okay.

But he’d been able to tell that you weren’t okay even through the phone. You’re exhausted, and it’s even more obvious now that he’s in your room with a good look at your face.

So Tomura doesn’t let you go back to your work. He tightens his grip on your legs instead (still cautious, constantly cautious, with six digits rather than ten, pinkies and ring fingers raised) and doesn’t wait for you to protest before he yanks you off the bed.

Your yelp is cute. Everything about you is cute, of course, but there’s something he particularly likes about the way your voice is laced with surprised laughter as he snatches you bodily from your place on your bed and drags you down into his lap. It’s clumsy despite (or rather because of) how careful he is with his deadly grip, and you end up turned around with your back along his legs and your feet propped up on the end of the bed.

“How much have you slept since we last hung out?”

You pout, clearly aware that he won’t like the answer.

“Brat,” he rasps, “studying is useless if you pass out during the exam.”

“What’re you gonna do about it, then?”

Well, he can’t let you get away with that. You forget he’s an S-rank villain.

He stands suddenly, arms strong around your torso as he lifts you and throws you back onto your bed. Again, you yelp; but you’re long used to his manhandling by now, and you’ve told him how much you like it, so he knows the shriek is mostly for show. You turn around, making to go back to your notes, and though he’s well aware you’re not actually intending to return to your studying he still lunges faster than you to shove all your supplies off the bed.

“Tomura!” you whine—he can hear that you’re half serious now, and six months ago when all this was still new he might have paused to apologize, but instead he just grabs you again to pull you under the covers with him.

It’s sufficiently distracting. All thoughts of your studies have clearly been dashed from your mind as he rolls over to hold you on top of him, chest-to-chest, thick quilt and soft sheets covering the pair of you.

Tomura can’t help himself as he tucks his head in the crook of your neck, burying his face against your soft skin. It’s always a little overwhelming simply being in your room, but your scent surrounds him now, both from the bed he’s holding you hostage in and you yourself.

It’s warm too, pleasantly so; so often Tomura feels chilled to the bone, but that’s rarely the case when you’re around, always sharing your body heat with him in one way or another.

Your arms move to drape over his shoulders. You prop yourself up slightly, staring down at him as he pulls his head back to look up at you. He’s come to know you well enough to recognize that you’re planning something; he tightens his hold on you, preparing for you to make a getaway attempt, not that you stand a chance to get very far against his strength and reflexes.

“You’re not leaving. We’re sleeping.”

You hum in response, an acquiescence (though he doesn’t loosen his grip, less because he’s afraid you’ll leave now and more simply because he likes the feeling of you in his arms). He holds you like that for a time, listening to or perhaps more feeling the soft rhythmic beat of your heart against his chest and your quiet, steady breath.

One of your hands moves, tracing down the side of his face, thumb reaching across to brush over the scar on his eye and then doing the same further downward to its companion on his lip. Then it drops, finding a permanent resting spot on his chest, heavy palm warming him over his heart.

You lean in. His eyes flutter closed, sight going dark so that he can focus on his other senses—the weight of you on him, the smell of your shampoo, the brief little sound you make in the back of your throat that he’s come to learn means you think he’s being cute.

Your lips land on his scarred eye, featherlight and fleeting, a brush of a kiss. Then they’re just below his mouth, an identical kiss on what you affectionately call his beauty mark. Finally, they press to the corner of his mouth, that other scar (he used to be self conscious of it, frankly, but you don’t even have to tell him just how much you like it, he’s figured that out on his own thanks to how much attention you give the little blemish and your minute reactions every time you get the chance to feel it).

You’re sluggish as you pull back. You’re finally feeling the exhaustion, he can tell. He should really let you sleep, that’s why he’s here and forced you into bed with him in the first place, but he follows your lips anyway.

It’s a sweet kiss, slow and languid but not entirely passionless as his hand slides up your spine to find home on the back of your neck. He can feel you melt into him, letting him take the lead and relinquishing any active part in the process to him. Your heat seeps into him. He doesn’t get tired much, but at times like these your own exhaustion affects him, bidding him to follow you into dreamland—not that he’d ever complain about sleeping with you.

When the pair of you separate, you all but fall onto him, finally letting your heavy eyelids close as you bury your face into his marked neck. You mumble something into the skin there, almost too quiet to hear; a slurred out, “G’night.”

Tomura turns his head into you to press a kiss to your temple as he succumbs to your siren call and joins you in slumber, voice impossibly low so you won’t hear (though he knows you will anyway, perceptive as you are). “Sleep well, player two.”

[shoezuki]

do you mind me asking what happened?

Karl has been likw. Ok not 'exposed' but essentially it was found he associates (possibly Paat Tense?) With a streamer named ice poseidon. This guy is a racist person in the most explicilty horrible way. In looking into him theres literal streams he's done of harassing and attacking black people on the streets, getting a rise of them so he can call the cops on them. Like much more along with saying racial slurs and other things i hadnt seen confirmed but. Literally a white supremacist. And both chatlogs of karl being in his streams was found And actual videos of karl WITH ice poseidon in person.

There was also a clip of him on mizkif's stream using the Cx emote and trihard, Cx being a face w a big nose, and trihard i Think has gathered racial connotations as its used in ice poseidon chats and other shithead's chats when theyre like. Being racist assholes. Although im not sure on that one and from what i saw he said it was like. The Big Nose joke and saw ppl saying it could be interpreted either as antisemitic cuz 'big nose' jokes Are antisemitic, or that its against black ppl. But i am not entirely clear on that one and the clip i watched was weird so im not sure

BUT ANYWAYS iwas specifically talkin bout his apology cuz threads @ing him been comin out ofc, and right today he jumped onto stream to talk bout it. It like. Obviously i have no grounds to 'accept' it cuz those aint me but i am capable of saying the apology sucked xbalsgsis. Like. Very anxious and scattered, it was so hard to really digest what he was saying, only passively mentioned the streamer he associated woth once. Didnt ever actually really Say what he did or give context to who ice poseidon was. Frankly there genuinely was no way to know what he was eben addressing if you hadnt seen the threads on twitter. I watched the videos and had NO clue i had to go look up threads. Qlso word choices were weird in terms of sayong the streamer like is 'considered racist' and such or soemthing like that but if thata due to rushing himself idk

Basically: he rushed an apology without really gathering his thoughts Or determining how to convey what he wanted to say Properly, so its jus fundamentally. P shit. Regardless of if he genuinely was apologetic Which i felt in a way, it jus. Was not well formulated cuz he prioritized Getting Rid of it and addressin as quick as possible over a well spoken and thought out apology

[omegawolverine]

I know you posted it days ago but you said something about wanting to rant about either karl or his fanbase and its been itching at my brain. Ive no clue whats happening or what is happening at all cause no one seems to be making clear points?? Or explaining anything?

Obviously you do NOT have to talk about it im sure it might be a sore point to rant because people can get SO needlessly rude to others over it. But if you want to idk explain? Just rant? Im definetly curious what it was over or about.

The "you dont need to talk about this" is amplified by the fact i am DAYS late and you are probably over it by now.

okay hi yes im happy to talk about this but i think i should preface with two things:

1) even tho it may seem like im biased towards him or being very defensive of him im actually a super casual karl viewer and the only reason i am super defensive of him sometimes is bc we act a lot alike irl and that is mainly because of our neurodivegency. when i say a lot i mean we share traits like "annoying" stimming (jumping around, making loud noises, repeating the same phrases until everyone is sick of hearing them), the difficulty reading situations, the very obvious issues with volume control and not just bouncing from subject to subject to subject as we fucking please. basically anything you've seen karl do on stream that is Very Neurodivergent ive done the same in my own way which is why i get defensive when i see people calling him annoying or saying they dont like him, usually for these types of reasons. that being said, when i say im a very casual karl viewer, i fucking mean it. i usually only watch him when he's streaming with other ccs i like or when he's doing chill alt streams bc even with the annoying donos, he's pretty relaxing and comforting when he's just fucking around by himself and he isnt trying to get as hype as he would on a main channel stream. so yeah, it may seem like im biased and sure, i guess i am on some level, but it's not coming from a place of me hyperfixating on him or me even loving him as a cc, it's coming from me being a neurodivergent who likes him just enough to get upset when i see people basically being casually ableist towards him.

2) i dont have all the facts or even a great understanding on what the fuck has been happening recently with his "drama"...mostly bc he talked about it on his priv, which im not on, and people are gatekeeping the tweets, as they always do, and basically making you "dm to see them" (which is already a problem in and of itself bc apparently in these tweets he said he didnt want them being ss and shared, yet they are being shared thru dms over and over and over again like. at that point just stop withholding the information and post the fucking shit, you clearly dont care that he said "dont share"). additionally, most of the threads ive seen on this situation havent actually explained the initial issue, just talked about his apology (a lot of people have said "it's bad" but havent said why and with no screenshots ((i havent asked for someone to dm me them and i still havent seen them posted, which is mildly surprising, but incredibly frustrating at this point)), i only have a few basic details i can actually assess it on) or they talked about the initial issue in very vague details so um. excuse me trying to explain this now, but ill try and make it make sense with how little ive actually pieced together.

(oh, also, here's my first rant about the ableism in this fandom which is way more broad. this is a pretty different rant from that one, but they're both pretty big reasons why i hate this fandoms treatment of karl)

so basically the problems started with mr beast being apart of a charity stream that donated either to autism speaks or to a similar company, im unsure on that part. im also unsure on if the people participating in the stream actually knew of this or not bc, from what i remember, the money was being donated to a separate organization that was like. under the bad company or some shit like that, idk how stuff like that works and also i read about this shit months ago bc this originally happened months ago and just sorta came to a head recently.

anyways, i think karl was supposed to be apart of this stream but pulled out of it right before (that or these were two separate streams and karl was supposed to participate in the first but pulled out while mr beast did both?? idk. regardless karl did not actually participate, just mr beast). from there people started doing the guilt from association bullshit they always do, this was also doubled by the fact that the chris being racist stuff came out sometime around then and basically he got dragged all over twitter for "being ableist" and "supporting racists" and i cant remember if he actually apologized when this originally happened or not. i vaguely remember him apologizing about something back then but i genuinely dont know if it was this or something else.

basically that died down eventually, a good chunk of people unstanned him but him and honktwt didnt end up getting the lovely lil technotwt treatment and they still havent yet, surprisingly. good for them honestly ajsksk

but now we get to the past few weeks and apparently something happened with him "laughing at someone saying the r slur" (it was mizkif, i believe), specifically when it was directed at other people, which is a big yikes, obviously, but when karl was called out for this a lot of people kind of. made this into a situation that it wasnt bc um. basically karl didnt laugh at it, he gave a few nervous giggles, as people often do when in a situation like that (and karl specifically said he does this in the one part of his apology tweet which i did stumble upon, although it wasnt the important part of the apology thread bc why would it be) and people fucking crucified him for it. they quite literally dragged a neurodivergent man for supposedly "laughing at the r slur" when he can literally reclaim it and also he was just nervous laughing.

and this is where the situation just gets really bad because they. basically forced him to admit that he was autistic on his priv to apologize for this. i havent seen the screenshots of him saying this, but i saw people discussing it and i am frankly so fucking pissed about this because sure, it was a bad situation, and i understand people wanting an explanation, but an apology? for a neurodivergent man nervous laughing at a slur he can reclaim? and then forcing the man to admit something he literally said in that tweet he didnt want people to know which is why people were being so gatekeepy about it while also LOUDLY discussing the situation, as if that wouldnt drive MORE PEOPLE to look for screenshots and ways to get ahold of this information? and then people had the audacity to call it a "bad apology" when they had quite literally just violated his privacy by forcing him to admit something that he shouldnt have needed to share in the first place if he didnt want to, which he didnt.

and this is why im so pissed off. karl is already constantly picked at and made fun of and called annoying for his neurodivergent traits, things which he literally cant help, things which are generally harmless, and now he was forced into a situation where he can now be further picked at and made fun of and called annoying bc they forced him to admit something private instead of just understanding and accepting that he had been nervous laughing at someone using a slur he has definetly been called for his neurodivergency.

tldr of my thoughts: yes i think karl needed to address this situation, it definetly looked bad, but twitter stans have this sense of entitlement with their ccs and because of that, they consistently take it way too far and harm the people they claim to care about so dearly. we've seen it happen time and time again with dream, but this is the first time ive seen them basically force someone to out themselves to make their apology "valid" and most of them still seem to not want to accept it anyways, which just makes me feel bad for him bc now that info is out their and people are just disregarding it to continue "holding him accountable".

anyways, i think that's all i can really say on this topic rn tbh, if anyone else knows this situation better please feel free to lmk clarifications and ill add them in since, like i said, i know fuck all thanks to twitter being so goddamn hush hush about the important details while simultaneously being the loudest mfers about how much they hate karl now instead of just fucking unfollowing and moving on.

thanks for the ask and im sorry if this is confusing!! i just think this is one of those weird situations where like. i think karl deserved some criticism for what happened and how he handled it or at least he shouldve been asked to address it but that just. isnt what happened, at all. he was harrassed. karl got harrassed and because of that he handled this situation even more sloppily than he probably wouldve and exposed private info about himself that he didnt feel comfortable doing and it just. fucking sucks tbh.

[beyscape]

Under the Moonlight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Your brother Tony threw the best parties; they just weren’t your thing. Steve knew of this, and decided to check up on you.

Requested by: @franciose18xx​

Word Count: 2172

Warnings: some swearing. Steve wouldn’t approve lol

A/N: I had a dumb smile on while writing this, I love Steve too much.

  Being Tony Stark’s little sister had a lot of benefits. His love for throwing huge parties, however, was one of the few downsides you could think of.

  The music was loud in the “party floor” as Tony liked to call it, and the crazy amount of people around you kept getting drunker and drunker as the party progressed. You smiled and nodded at the occasional faces you recognized, but otherwise you kept to yourself, swirling the drink glass in your hands and watching the ice slowly melt. Yes, watching the ice melt was much more interesting than the party surrounding you. Suffocating you.

  It wasn’t like you were particularly introverted, in fact, with those you were close with you could be described as loud, as wild. After all, you were related to Tony Stark. In these types of parties though, there simply were too many strange faces, and you couldn’t deny that it made you uncomfortable. Your eyes trailed over the scene unfolding around you as you wondered when was acceptable for you to sneak back to the lab upstairs. You were thinking of the latest project you were working on with Tony  when your gaze focused on the far end of the room.

  A small smile appeared on your face as you watched Steve laugh at the antics of Thor. Another benefit of being Tony’s sister. If it wasn’t for your brother going and getting mixed with super hero stuff, you never would have met Steve Rogers.

Noticing your stare even with the great distance laying between you, Steve raised his head to meet your eyes. He simply smiled at you, giving you a slow nod before turning back to face the God of Thunder beside him. You averted your eyes quickly, too quickly, and cursed. You hadn’t meant to get caught staring at him, and now he probably thought you were a creep. What a great party.

You liked Steve, even that fact had taken way too long to admit to yourself, but you could never tell if he had the same feelings. He was such a gentleman that it was so hard to decipher whether he was  just being nice or he nursed the same feelings as you. Things would have been much easier if he was a program you could run through a decoder and figure out his codes. Humans were too messy, too complicated.

“Aaaaaaand there is the smartest Stark!” An arm hung around your shoulders, the smell of alcohol hitting you before you turned to face the person intruding your deep thoughts.

“You really need to stop drinking more than you can handle.” You shook your head as your brother gave you the stupid grin that was his trademark when drunk.

“You really need to fix your attitude and mingle with people.” He retorted before sticking his tongue out.

“Such a child,” you muttered under your breath, “Let’s go get you some coffee. You don’t wanna get shitfaced so early in your own damn party.” You mirrored his look, sticking a tongue out back.

“What did you just call me? Smartass. YOU are the child.” He hiccupped, swaying on his feet. You let him lean on you.

“Am I a child or a smartass, make up your mind.” Leading him through the sea of people towards the bar area proved to be more difficult than you originally anticipated. “When the hell did you get so heavy? One would think the whole superhero stuff would keep you fit.” You grunted as he fully put his weight on you, almost as if doing it on purpose to mess with you. You wouldn’t put it past Tony.

“Smartass.” Tony ruffled your hair with his free hand.

“See, you’re so drunk you can’t think of new stuff to call me. No fun.” You could see the bar now, just a few more feet and you could dump your potato sack of a brother on one of the stools. Just then, you felt the weight raised off of you.

“Hi Y/N.” Pepper smiled at you before shaking her head at Tony’s state.

“Pepper! My savior!” You breathed a sigh of relief.

“He drank more than he could handle, didn’t he? Can’t believe he keeps doing this. You go, I’ll take care of him.” Pepper gave you a reassuring nod.

“Did I ever tell you that I love you? Cause I do.” You thanked her, honestly happy that she would be taking care of Tony’s drunk ass, you made a mental note to lecture him the next morning. Or when he recovered from the wicked hangover waiting for him. What made you even happier though was the fact that Pepper pretty much gave you the green light to leave. You merrily obliged.

Before making your way back up to the lab and working until ungodly hours of the night, you decided getting some fresh air would be the best to clear your head. You didn’t have much to drink, certainly not as much as your brother, but the two and a half glasses of whiskey still made you feel tipsy enough.

You pushed the glass doors of the balcony on the other end of the floor open, letting the cool air wash over you. The chill of the night was a welcome sensation on your skin, you leaned your arms on the metal railing. The moon was close to turning full, but it was big enough that there was no need for lighting as you stood on the balcony. The pale light of the moon washed everything gently.

“Hey.” A voice called out from behind you, you turned to see Steve leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. A dashing smile was on his face, the kind that made you spend way too long thinking about.

“Hey.” You replied, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Why are you not at the party?”

“You’re not at the party either.”

 He chuckled, nodding. He took a step, then two towards you. Your breath hitched as he closed the distance. You didn’t know what you were expecting, or better yet, hoping to happen, but it definitely wasn’t this. Steve mirrored your previous position, leaning over the railing. You turned back.

“I saw you practically run out, figured I’d come and check up on you.” He was facing the nearly-full moon, its kind light illuminating his beautiful face. You wished you could capture this moment and forever keep it.

“I just,” you licked your lips, “I’m not great with parties.”

“I know. Honestly, me neither. I much prefer being here.” See, this was the thing about Steve. You never ran out of things to say, you were never speechless. Your brother often teasingly complained about you being too sassy for your own good, but being with Steve pretty much flicked a switch and suddenly you found with a slightly open mouth and nothing to say. No cheeky remarks.

“You must be the first person that prefers my company over one of Tony’s epic parties.”

“You thought I would rather watch people get drunk and do stupid things instead of  being on a balcony with the smartest, funniest and the most gorgeous woman in the whole building? I may not be a genius like you but I’m not a fool either, Y/N.”

Your mouth fell open. Never in a million years did you expect those words to spill out of Steve’s mouth. Was he really flirting with you just now? He raised his eyebrows at your expression.

“Was that too much? I’m sorry, I’m about ninety years behind on this whole flirting thing.” He grimaced slightly.

“No! I mean, no.” You shook your head, surpassing a delighted laughter. “You were doing great, grandpa.”

“See, now you’re teasing me. Just tell me it was too cheesy. Come on, I can take it.”

“Okay it was a little cheesy.”

“I knew it!”

“You didn’t let me finish. It was a little cheesy, but frankly, I like cheese.”

 He laughed, and your heart leapt as you couldn’t help but join him. You wished he would always laugh like he had just now. Silence fell as you both faced the moon once more, shy smiles dancing on your faces as you both stole tiny glances at each other. Finally, Steve broke the silence.

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off of his tongue, his voice now more serious. You stared into his blue eyes, captivated.

“Steve.” He moved closer. You gulped.

“May I kiss you?” He asked, and of course he did, and you exhaled slowly. You managed to give him a small nod.

He placed a gentle hand on your cheek, smiling down at you in a way of softness you never witnessed before. He closed the distance. It was a delicate kiss; his lips were warm on yours that were cold with the chilly air and it was everything you dreamt of. You sighed as it ended way too soon for your liking. He peered at your face, searching, this time it was you who leaned in.

The kiss initiated by you was deeper as your lips crashed, Steve’s hands sneaking down to your waist as he pressed your bodies closer. One of your hands rested on his well-toned chest while the other ran through his blonde hair, something you found yourself wanting to do for so very long. He was a much better kisser for someone who admitted to having little to none experience, you thought, as electric waves were sent down your spine. You pulled away for breath, reluctant in doing so.

“I would like to take you on a date, some dinner and maybe movies.” He raised his eyebrows, more of a statement than a question.

“I think that would be very nice.” You pecked his lips, his grip tightening slightly.

“What do we have here?” A slurring voice interrupted the intimate moment, sending you and Steve flying to different ends of the too-small balcony. Tony appeared in the doorway, scowling. “Capsicle, that better not be my baby sister you were kissing just now.”

Steve took a step towards him, ready to explain, only to be cut by Pepper.

“Sorry guys, I turned away for one second and he managed to get away.” She noted the blush on both you and Steve’s cheeks, as well as the look of annoyance on Tony’s. She gave you a sly wink. “Don’t let us interrupt.” She linked her arm with his.

“Pepper, I—we–” You looked at the woman with wide eyes as she held up a hand.

 “I didn’t see anything, and this one,” she patted Tony’s arm, “will be lucky if he remembers his name in the morning.” She winked at you before leading a protesting Tony away.

 You looked at Steve, who shared your mortified expression at the close call.

“Pepper’s right. He won’t remember, we’re safe for now.” A breathy laugh escaped your lips, Steve pulling you in. You rested your forehead on his shoulder.

“I cannot believe we almost got caught this soon.” Steve shook his head.

“So, dinner, you said?” You muttered into his shoulder.

 ------------

 It was some time past afternoon when Tony finally sauntered into the kitchen area, where you were perched on one of the stools. Steve was seated across you, focused on the newspaper in his hands.

“You look like hell.” You stated matter-of-factly.

“Love you too.” He groaned before coming to a halt. He squinted his eyes at you and Steve. You forced yourself to look bored, trying your best to not look at Steve.

“I didn’t see you two kiss last night, did I? Because that would be crazy. Right?” His gaze drifted between you and the soldier.

“What? No. Do you even know how drunk you were? It’s no surprise you imagined things.” You shot back, slightly too defensive. Tony, on a regular day, would pick up on it immediately. He was, however, so damn hangover at the time that he didn’t notice it. Or the pointed looks shared between you and Steve.

“Yeah, it would be crazy.” He muttered as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and made his way back to presumably his room. You exhaled sharply as Steve put down the newspaper.

“This is too stressful, should we just tell him?” He reached over and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

“And have him die from a heart attack? No way.” You got up, and gingerly walked towards Steve. The look of fondness sending the butterflies in your stomach in a frenzy. You placed a soft kiss on his temple. “He’ll figure it out on his own soon enough. I for one don’t wanna deal with his dramatic ass right now.

“Language.” Steve tilted his head, grinning.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Alright, grandpa.” You pecked him on the lips before running off, not giving him a chance to reply.

Steve shook his head as he laughed to himself. This would be interesting.

----------------------------

this was written very late into the night and i’m too impulsive to not post it before sleep, so i apologize for any mistakes!!

------------

CHRIS EVANS TAGLIST @marvelouspottering

let me know if anyone else is interested in taglists! 😊

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (12/1/2020)?

calvatronlordofall said: Today’s comics?

Far Sector #9: Another comic I won’t understand until it’s done and I can reread the whole thing but that I’m enjoying anyway. Really, really hope Jemisin continues contributing to the medium in some form after this, because she absolutely has a gift for it.

Strange Adventures #7: He doesn’t care for tyranny, folks. And JEEESSSUUUUS, Doc

DCeased: Dead Planet #6: Some quality DC Comics nonsense problem-solving, but not sure at all whether the chips are gonna fall in favor of the stuff about this I’ve been really liking or the aspects I simply don’t care about at all.

Tales From The Dark Multiverse: Wonder Woman: War Of The Gods: While I’ve seen plenty of them around the periphery in anthologies and so forth I think this is Vita Ayala’s first full work I’ve been exposed to, and tbh I can’t say I’m taken, even given the pretty threadbare-seeming material for them to work with. I’ll still give Children of the Atom a try, but my expectations have been lowered. Nice seeing Trish Mulviihill’s colors though, thought they looked familiar and it turns out she worked on my beloved Superman & Bugs Bunny.

Batman: The Adventures Continue #7: Yeah, now that it’s all said and done, definitely the best take on the death and return of Jason Todd.

Batman #104: Art’s taken a hit, but Ghostmaker’s getting more and more fun as a character the more that comes out about him. And surprising seeing Dick in his real Robin suit in flashback, Dark Designs had him still rocking that New 52 abomination. It really seems like the policy RE: costumes in flashbacks with him remains up in the air at any given time?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on the long-awaited BatCat?

Anonymous said: Bat/Cat the objectively best comic of the week. Thots.

Batman/Catwoman #1: I imagine disappointingly, quite few - both the best and worst part of this book is that King’s entire spiel on “This is gonna be such a different animal from my regular run, this is my DKR, this is my ultimate prestige statement on the characters” was pure hype, this is just the next issue of his Batman run with Clay Mann as the new main artist. And it’s good! I like it! I think it’d take awhile for anybody to tumble onto the ‘three timelines’ aspect of it if they didn’t go in knowing about it since the color of Catwoman’s suit is the only obvious tipoff for a chunk of it, but it’s still a well-constructed piece of comics in line with the story up to this point, even if it’s so in line with it that it pretty much puts the lie to the notion that this was originally conceived of as a special prestige project in the same way as Strange Adventures or Rorschach. Mostly I’m just struck now that it’s out by the guts of doing a straight sequel to Mask of the Phantasm, given that’s maybe the singularly least divisive major Batman story: everybody on every side of the Batman-loving aisle recognizes it as hallowed ground, so nobody’s gonna not be let down if you fuck it up. I really need to rewatch it, it’s been well over a decade and unlike Return of the Joker my memories of it have almost entirely faded.

Black Widow #4: The further in I get the more I’m struck by the cleverness of the central conceit. How do you construct a drama around a century-old woman whose business has her have to mostly forsake most normal human connection? Make the literal supervillain plot that she’s been forced to have incredibly intimate human connections, and now she’s just gotta deal with that on top of what would otherwise be fairly routine Black Widow stuff.

Miles Morales: Spider-Man #21: Hate to say it folks, but even discounting the severity of the delays this arc’s been a dud. Really hoping it finds its feet again soon.

King In Black #1: Holy cow, this was ass. I went in thinking “well, I’ve resigned myself to having to get this to understand the crossovers into books I’m already getting and tie-in minis I do care about, but Cates still has a baseline level of competency so it should still be perfectly readable”, but this is just...nothing. This is that modern Dan Jurgens tier where it’s so bland and perfunctory and inoffensively executed it loops back around to infuriating, except Dan Jurgens’s writing if nothing else at least doesn’t strut around in tangible self-regard as the next great sales-shattering triumph of the Punk Rock God Of Comixxx like Cates’. And when was the last Marvel event on this scale with such little hype behind it? Even Empyre seemed like it had more weight on arrival, and much as I enjoyed it I’m pretty sure that book mainly existed to fill space until we got this. Maybe it’s just the circle I run in. I swear I remember Thanos Wins being pretty fun, and I just reread Atomahawk and that was still a hoot, so it’s a shame Cates has turned out this way, and worse he’s ended up Marvel’s new golden boy. Unless my dad likes it (and if so hey, he’s not alone, I imagine this is selling gangbusters) I’m sure not grabbing another issue, so I guess I’ll have to do my best with context clues in figuring out what’s going on for...Guardians of the Galaxy, S.W.O.R.D., Daredevil, Namor, Return of the Valkyries, the Joe Fixit Immortal Hulk one-shot, Iron Man/Doctor Doom, and the next book below. Fuck.

The Union #1: I’ve only read Everything Used To Be Black And White for Jack Staff but I was definitely curious what Grist would do here, and it didn’t disappoint! Fun little story, bunch of neat character ideas I’m looking forward to seeing developed further, very lived-in feeling slice of its corner of a superhero world.

Marvels Snapshots: Civil War: An excellent little parable that I’m surprised we didn��t actually see the likes of in ‘06, and frankly worth getting a mediocre Miles Morales arc for (even if it was disappointing that that one had to be where the ball was dropped) if this is where Ahmed’s attention was going instead.

Daredevil #25: So I turned two pages at once and accidentally spoiled myself at the last possible moment for the big reveal of the issue, so that sucks. Still a great issue though - one that manages to function as a logical extension of an incredibly street-level story even though it can only possibly exist as an extrapolation of the wildest excesses of the Marvel universe - but I cannot imagine how the hell the next is gonna cleanly pivot into King in Black shenanigans.

Kill A Man: A new OGN by Steve Orlando, cowritten with Phillip Kennedy Johnson and with art by Al Morgan and letters by Jim Campbell, the reductive though not inaccurate pitch is ‘queer Creed’. But since this is likely to sail under the radar I need to emphasize this is one of Orlando’s absolute best works, a real triumph of the form that’s among the best comics of the year (good GOD does this put to shame 99% of superhero comics fight scenes by the end), and a must-buy for any fans of his work. I’m just gonna let how hard the title and solicit text go speak for themselves:

“As a child, James Bellyi watched his father die in the ring as payback for slurs thrown at the other fighter. Today, he's a Mixed Martial Arts star at the top of his game, and one of the most popular fighters in the world...until he's outed as gay in his title shot press conference. Abandoned overnight by his training camp, his endorsements, his fans and his sport, to regain his title shot Bellyi is forced to turn to the last person he ever wants to see again: Xavier Mayne, a gay, once-great fighter in his own right...and the man James once watched kill his father.”

[lunewell]

The Norwegian Mermaid Association - Part 1

Word count: 1816

Written for MerMay

No TW or CW

Can also be read on Wattpad here

This is a little story I’ve been working on for MerMay, about an actual historical association that operated from 1963-1989. It ended up being rather long, so I split it into two parts, but here is the first instalment (:

Though safely placed a good distance away from the raging waves, the room of sailors and wives smelt overwhelmingly like fresh salt water and newly caught fish. Not that Morten could complain too much, as being served something other than fish and bread was a welcome change, even if it meant being enclosed in a tiny, wooden, scarcely-furnished room with 12 others.

“Doesn't she make the most divine food?” Leif commented to the others, who had creatively spread themselves on any available surface, be it the arm of the worn, uncomfortable chair, or squeezed tightly on the sheepskin covered couch. A chorus of sounds of agreement and nods, made Leif grin widely. He turned to his darling wife: “We should do this every time we return home from sea.” It was said with a semi- teasing smile, his blue eyes crinkled up.

“That’s a great idea, darling,” Hilde responded, tone matching his as she placed a pale hand on his shoulder, “I can’t wait to see you help me make the food!”

“... on second thought, perhaps once a season is more than enough.”

A light laughter came from the room, especially from Hans, Petter, and Kari, who- judging by their empty glasses and off-balanced movements- had already indulged themselves plenty in the alcohol department. Morten smiled too, appreciating the warm atmosphere of the room, and the ease and welcomeness that had swivelled itself within the smells of the ocean.

As not only the youngest but also the newest of the fishermen, he had originally been sceptical of the idea of attending the dinner party, having neither any sort of social smoothness nor a wife to bring with. Not that he wanted a wife, necessarily, as he had never quite considered himself the type.

However, the temptation of shelter and food (and, let’s be honest, the crippling loneliness), had lured him in like a sirens call into Leif’s and Hilde’s warm little wooden house. Lucky for him, it seemed that the others had a sort of strong kinship and bond that let him mostly sit back and observe the others laughing and talking, rather than needing to actively engage in the conversation himself.

“You really do have a God given gift as a housewife, Hilde,” said Ine- or was it Ina? No, definitely Ine, “We at the Norweagian Mermaid Association are so lucky to have someone like you.”

Morten almost spat out his water, ice blue eyes shot wide open. For what was the first time that night, he spoke, in a soft confused tone: “the… Mermaid Association?” He blinked owlishly, face warming up as all eyes- most that same blue colour- met his.

Anne was the first to realise where his confusion stemmed from: “oh dear,” she said, lips curled in an amused smile, “it’s not actually about mermaids. It’s the name of our women’s group, fighting for the rights of wives of seamen everywhere!”

“Oh,” Morten said, sheepishly, “that… uh, makes more sense. Odd name choice, though, considering historically mermaids were dangerous creatures, in line with trolls.”

“Names ‘cause we’re pretty as mermaids,” Kari said, hair messy and a slight slur to her words, “sing ‘s nice ‘s them, too. And-”

“Know a lot about mermaids, Morten?” Thomas interrupted, before Kari could go on her second drunken ramble of the night. Morten twiddled his thumbs, leaning back in the wooden chair and further into the corner, taking another sip from his glass before he answered.

“Yes. Always loved folklore as a child, be it trolls, Nokken, or mermaids,” he turned his head to look out the dirty window and into the fiery sky that implied a stormy morning, “when I was younger, I would dream about swimming around with a beautiful tail. Of course, silly dreams were all it ever was.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my years on the ocean,” Thomas began, “it’s that there are a lot of unknown things in the water, and what seems like sailor stories, might be closer to reality than what’s comfortable.”

“The old man had a point,” Hilde said with a smile, auburn hair swaying as she nodded.

“You’re not so far from 50 yourself,” he scoffed, earning him smiles and a series of teasing that Morten sat comfortably back and watched, glad to have the attention of him again. It was almost hard to believe that Hilde was 50, as her wrinkles were few, and her sea green eyes were still bright and filled with wonder. Though, Morten thought, perhaps it was simply the flickering candle light hiding secrets in its shadows.

The crimson evening stretched to a cloud covered night, moon shining dimly into the wooden house and the candle lights darting brightly around them. Kari, Petter, Thomas, and Inne had already left, leaving only Anne and Hans-, who, from what he had picked up had sons old enough that they needn’t return til long, himself, and the keepers of the house; Leif and Hilde.

Morten was certainly not at his prime. The exhaustion from the previous weeks on sea had really begun to take a toll; his dark brown hair was sticking out, his eyes were bagged, and he had very quickly moved himself to the brown sofa covered in sheepskin by the dancing fire in an attempt to quell the bone-deep chill that had spread through his body.

In the distance, he could hear Anne and a very, very drunk Hans giving their goodbyes, though he didn’t catch exactly what they said, as he couldn’t concentrate on the sound. In fact, he couldn’t concentrate much on anything right now, the lights blurring in his vision and the decorations around the room- from the plants to what was frankly a concerning amount of mackerel-themed objects, were swimming around him. He could feel the vice of a headache wrapping around his head like the jaws of a beast.

“Oh you poor dear,” he heard Hilde, who he hadn’t even managed to hear come in, sigh, “you look completely worn out.”

He blinked at her, willing his vision into focus. “It’s alright,” he managed to say, voice laced with drowsiness, “I was about to leave, anyway.” He reluctantly got up, gripping his pounding head as black spots entered his vision.

“In this state? Absolutely not,” Hilde protested, already pulling out a drawer to fetch what looked like a warm blanket, “no point in putting a young man like yourself needlessly in danger. This couch is plenty big enough for you.” She threw him a soft, wolly blanket woven in the pattern of a mackerel tail, the strength of the throw making it very clear she was not up for protest.

And even if he had foolishly attempted to protest her motherly instincts, she kept speaking. “Feel free to get some water if you’re thirsty- there’s glasses in the rightmost top cupboard,” she said, before making her way to what Morten assumed was the bedroom. “Goodnight, sleep well.”

There was something in her tone, almost sing-song like, that made him instantly relax and believe that he would, in fact, sleep well that night. It wasn’t long before she had blown out the last candles, smoke being added to the interesting concoction of scents, that he felt the serenity of night, calm as a pond, make him sink into the deep waters of sleep.

————————————

True to Hilde’s words, he slept better than he had in months, being awakened not in a rush like he usually was, but by the sound of rhythmic but hammering rain on the windows. He rubbed his eyes, stretching out and getting rid of the last remaining signs of his journey into the watery abyss. Looking out the window, he saw that true to his prediction, the morning was dark and stormy, thick clouds and heavy rain laying on a sheet that made it hard to see much of anything. Welcome to Stavanger, he thought almost fondly, well used to the city's frankly abysmal weather, only rivalled by a few Vestland cities, most notably Bergen.

He got up from the couch, and glanced at the clock; almost nine. Though comparatively late to when he usually got up, it seemed that Leif had been more exhausted than he let on, as Morten could easily hear his snores from the thin walls. In fact, listening closer, Morten could hear a lot from the thin walls; he could hear the angry seas, he could hear the sounds of talking crowds not too far away, and oddly enough, what sounded like singing.

Melodic, gorgeous, utterly encapsulating singing, sweet as wind chimes, unlike anything he had ever heard before.

In a completely uncharacteristic move, he found himself almost hypnotically making his way out the door and into the weather. Cold air whipped his cheek, but he found himself barely caring, continuing onwards even as his clothes became so soaked that they merged into his baby soft skin.

He made his way further to the coast and docks, walking past swaying trees and winding paths into the dark, wet stoney beach. By now, he was sure his lips were blue, his face wet from the rain, and yet he could not bring himself to feel anything but excitement as the sweet sounds came closer and closer.

And then, at the edge of a rock, at just the right splash zone for the sprays of crashing waves to hit him, he saw it.

Hilde, short, wavy auburn hair, big sea green, aging eyes, was laying on a rock, a mackrell's tail attached to her lower body, and blue scales sprouted across the skin of the arms she rested her head on. Her ears- inhuman, blue, and shaped like fins, perked up, and the signing stopped as she spotted him. Her expression was initially one of surprise and shock, but it washed away within seconds to a warm smile.

Morten gaped like a trout, and stared at her. He scanned her up and down over and over again, his mind having gone completely blank in a way to try to deal with the shock. Hilde took in his expression, and laughed lightly, though he didn’t see what was particularly funny.

“Well, girls,” Hilde said, and to his minds absolute horror, several more heads of scales and weird ears, among them faces he recognised as Anne, Ine, and Kari from last night, popped out of the water, “looks like we’ll be having a guest in the meeting today”

“So,” an unfamiliar brunette with dark skin and purple scales around her eyes said, “is this yet another sailor from your man's crew that will end up with one of our kind?”

Hilde looked directly at him, her smile teasing with sharp teeth. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But, for now, let’s get back to the matter at hand, and let the weekly meeting of the Norwegian Mermaid Association, plus 1, begin!”

[jeonqukie]

SOMEBODY ELSE / 02 ( ALT ).

SYNOPSIS / After years of working up the courage to confess his feelings for you, Min Yoongi decides to give up and move on from the unrequited position he has put himself in. However, when you discover his veiled attraction towards you, you dwell on what could have been. You find yourself ready to reciprocate the same sentiment for him, only you’re too late when he reveals he has already found someone else. Consequently, you’re lured into a series of meaningless and warped encounters from the one person you swore to avoid.

FEATURING / Min Yoongi; brief appearances by Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES / Angst, romance, mature, friends with benefits, and unrequited love.

WARNINGS / This chapter contains alcohol consumption, graphic language, mentions of sexual activity, mentions and acts of infidelity, and other mature themes.

WORD COUNT / 4.2k.

TABLE OF CONTENTS / To be redirected and get the latest on the story, click on the table of contents.

NOTES / Because part 3 of somebody else will take some time to write, I decided to post one of the original ideas I had thought of for part 2. I still really like this version a lot, but I feel like I wasn’t going to go the direction I wanted to. So please enjoy this alternate version while I still plot out part 3! In another world, this is what I had planned out for this love triangle. Feedback is always appreciate. Big reminder that I am forever grateful that you took your time to read this! Thank you very much for taking your time to read this. (つ≧▽≦)つ

© All rights reserved to jeonqukie. All or portions of my work may not be reproduced, distributed, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and our non-binary friends,” All it took was one step inside of Ernie’s newly renovated bar to hear the particularly flamboyant introduction from the opposite side of the room. “We are pleased to announce the arrival of the new division head of advertising, YN.”

Your cheeks ignited at Seokjin’s grandiose greeting. The rest of the gang was evidently hammered from the boisterous cheers and praises. Nevertheless, it was nearly impossible to avoid the incessant stares from other bar attendees when your feet hastily walk towards the other side of the room.

“Ernie, another round of shots over here, please!” Michelle’s request could be heard from a mile away. You began to strip out of the beige blazer that matched your skirt off of your body only to reveal your white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up all the way to your elbows.

“I told you guys to get started with the drinks - not to get fucking hammered.”

“Sweetheart, the moment you gave us the approval, we couldn’t help ourselves.” You were seated in between Hoseok and Michelle, trying to make yourself comfortable inside the semi-circular booth. On the other end was Jimin and Seokjin who were awaiting patiently for the new round of drinks to appear on the table.

“Plus, it’s your fault for being late.”

“It’s not really my fault that I had to stay an hour back at the office. There were just a couple of paperwork I needed to complete.”

Could you imagine what your boss would have said if you refused to stay back at the office after you recently earned your promotion? It would have led to her doubting her decision to promote you. So you had no choice but to go along with the flow.

Frankly, it didn’t take long for you to earn your position. It may sound immodest of you to assume that, but you’ve only been working for a year and a half and you were already the division head in advertising. It’s funny how a year and a half ago, you were merely just an intern, fighting for a permanent position in the company.

The glasses of spirits soon arrive at your table, Hoseok captures one and placed the minuscule glass across from where you sat. “Alright, everybody, grab a shot because I shall propose a toast -“ But at the corner of your eye, your main focal point happened to be at the front door where he stood; dark mane and pale face when he enters the vicinity with the now familiar, Tiffany.

“Oh, shit, Yoongi and Tiffany are here! Okay, now, it’s a real party!” The sputtering slurs began erupting out of Seokjin’s mouth and all eyes immediately dart towards you.

You weren’t just a mere intern, struggling to find her place in the company a year and a half ago. You were just as lost and confused when it came to your own personal life. You vividly remember the morning Yoongi confronted you of your feelings - how you interrogated him of his true emotions with the both of you coming to the conclusion that there was no happy ending for the both of you.

The circle was in an awkward position for a while, unsure of whether you and him can be in the same room. But for the sake of everyone’s sanity, you were forced to make up with him. Well, you didn’t want to say you were forced to make up with him.

Your friends were too fed up to deal with the cumbersome conversations, so Hoseok and Seokjin had unwillingly bring you together to resolve the predicament you both found yourselves in.

To be honest, you missed him a lot. Persistently trying to avoid him for a good two months was draining, especially when he would be with Tiffany. You were quite surprised she hadn’t caught onto the dynamics of the clique after nearly being with Yoongi for months. You felt an ache in your chest every time she seemed to tag along with him. You even remembered the gut-wrenching moment when you overheard from Jimin that Yoongi manage to convince Tiffany to move in with him.

Suddenly, you found yourself back with Taehyung - in your eyes, he was a saving grace. He was constantly there to numb and alleviate you from the pain. You were always frustrated, absolutely depressed and sought for the comfort you yearned for. For some reason, you were okay every time - as Michelle would say, he’d fuck the sorrow out of your poor soul.

You recovered from the pain and your naive mind believed that you were immune to it.

You thought that everything was fine; you focused on work, focused on rekindling the same friendship with Yoongi and you even ignited a new one with Tiffany herself. She was genuinely sweet, caring, and selfless when it came to Yoongi. Soon enough, you were getting comfortable with the idea that, perhaps, the universe was right - maybe you and Yoongi were better off as friends.

Of course, that wasn’t the case.

Oh, how you were so wrong.

Just a month ago, you remembered how everybody gathered over to their apartment for a movie night and Yoongi made the announcement that he’s asked for Tiffany’s hand in marriage and she inevitably said yes. 

Who wouldn’t say no to someone like him?

Living your life so normally, thinking that things have gotten better was just the naivety coming to slap you right across the face.

The pang of agony was unbearable. You weren’t so sure how you survived the two hours in their apartment with their radiating, saccharine faces.

Not even Taehyung could save you from this one.

You recalled the moment you and Michelle arrived home - how you stampeded over to the bathroom when you began to regurgitate all of the nauseating pain at the pits of your stomach. You were no where near drunk - just utterly miserable.

The sting of your eyes came crawling back to your eyes when the large diamond ring shone right across your face. With Yoongi and Tiffany at the end of the table, Seokjin looked at you straight in the eye, awaiting for you to raise your shot glass once more.

“Earth to YN, I need you to have your glass raised up.” You apologized hastily and raised the glass hesitantly, blushing in embarrassment when everyone had managed to catch you in a state of otherworldliness. “As I was saying, a big fucking congratulations to YN.” It was conspicuous that Seokjin was absolutely inebriated and you savored his demeanor; he was so carefree and loose. “And, also, to our Yoongi who, in a month, will no longer be a fucking bachelor.”

Everyone raised their glass yet you remained… paralyzed.

The clinks of the glass against each other notified you to take the shot into your lips and you swallowed it, feeling the stinging burn coating your throat.

With your eyes pinched closed, you open your eyes only to see Yoongi directly at you. For a split second, he saw the slightest unravel of your guard. He could feel his own chest swell when he notices the way Michelle’s arms slither around your shoulders, whispering words of comfort into your ear before your lips unwontedly twitch onto a discomforting grin. Your eyes glistened underneath what little lighting the bar possessed and when both your eyes lock onto each other, he can see the light in your eyes losing its spark ever so slowly.

You made the announcement that you will be using the restroom and that you should be back with another order of drinks. Scooting your way out of the booth, Yoongi’s eyes follow to where you hastily amble towards the women’s restroom. He tried his best to ignore the way you felt about the situation. He knew that if he factored you in to every decision he made, he wouldn’t be able to progress his relationship with her.

However, when the words came slipping out of somebody else’s mouth that he would no longer be an emotionally available man, it dawned on him how soon everything seemed and he tries his best not to dwell on the fact that there was a slim possibility that he was regretting the decisions he made himself.The night was still relatively young. It was close to midnight, but your feet was growing painfully exhausted from being at the dance floor all night. In order to avoid the newly engaged couple, Michelle and Jimin were trying their best to aid you in distracting yourself from your pain and, hopefully, avoiding you from a really bad mistake.

In this case, they feared that you would drunkenly dial your unofficial bootycall.

But Taehyung has made it clear that it’s best if he strayed away from you… because there was only so much he can do to help you forget Yoongi. Every time he had the chance to see you, it gave him more confirmation that you were anything but over Yoongi. Despite his efforts of making you forget him, he realizes that you were utterly in love with somebody else and he can’t change a thing about it.

Michelle held your phone so close to her while Jimin spun you in circles all night. You yearned to have the phone back to your safety, in case your boss called you for an emergency, but they knew it was wise of them to keep it as far away from you. But they had their limits, too.

“That’s the last song, I’m beat.” Jimin surrenders in defeat which is quite surprising for someone like him. He had so much energy and he was usually the last one off of the dance floor. But you can see from corner of your booth how Tiffany nuzzled ever so lovingly onto Yoongi’s neck when they whisper to each other and your eyes dart back to Jimin who was ambling over towards the bar along with Michelle and you were left stranded in the middle of the floor awkwardly.

It wasn’t until you feel the warmth of somebody else’s body against yours. You spun around to meet eyes with a much taller male; his hair slightly parted with the ends just ending at the top of his brows. His hooded doe eyes stare right down at you with his naturally pink lips curling onto a flirtatious grin.

“H - hi,” You were breathless and taken aback by his handsome face when the song switches over to a much slower rhythm, introducing a romantic guitar at the background. “I - uh, I’m sorry. You must have me mistaken for somebody else.” However, he shakes his head when his large palm envelopes your wrist gently, urging you to slither his arms around his shoulders.

“I saw your friends abandon you and you looked… lonely, so I decided to come and save the day.” He chuckles darkly when you oblige to his request. The romantic guitar playing in the background is not helping you establishing personal space with the newfound stranger. But you weren’t necessarily protesting against it; it was just a little too forward for your liking especially when you couldn’t see your friends in sight. “Plus, you have some serious dance moves."

“Saving me won’t do anything.” It was a depressing thought and you were already biting back the tears that shimmered your eyes when you looked onto the stranger’s eyes. “There’s really no point in saving damaged goods.” You concluded your self-deprecating statements with a dark chuckle, cocking your head to the side to see just how he would react. “Thank you though; I learned from both of my friends who abandoned me. I think you should be dancing with them instead of me." He swipes his tongue across his mouth when he guides you to the rhythm of the song; hips grinding and swaying together, bodies getting closer and closer to each other.

“What’s your name?” He whispers ever so softly into your ear when his large hand is placed right at the small of your back, right above your ass.

“YN.” You answer him breathlessly. Oddly enough, you find yourself being so responsive to his touch - to his voice and to his requests. “I think it’s fair you give me yours?”

“Jungkook.” He sighs before looking you straight into your eyes. “Whoever hurt you,” he begins before his the palm of his hand comes to cup your cheek, thumb circling over the cheek. “… is a real fucking idiot.”

Your laugh travels so far through the room and Yoongi reactively searches for your location. He watches you nuzzle onto the warmth of the stranger’s palm, feeling the world move around you. You were reminded just how out of tune you were out of your normal self. The buzzed brain clearly did not function well when it came to making smart decisions which is why you found yourself caressing his cheek as well, only to have your thumb swiping against his bottom lip. Instinctively, Yoongi’s digits grip around Tiffany’s waist and she squeals, reminding him just how ticklish she was. But his eyes remained fixated on your dancing body, how close you seemed to be against another man.

“I see what you’re trying to do.” You begin your comment before you slowly peel yourself out of the much taller male. “You see this… girl and it’s so obvious she’s broken and it’s so easy to get a good fuck.” You sigh before your digits run themselves through your tousled mane. “You put on this spiel that you can make her feel good, but you can’t. You try to get her hopes up and we all know how this ends.”

His eyes transform into more melancholic ones and he shakes his head before he takes a safe step closer to your body. At the corner of your eye, you can sense the presence of your friends. Suddenly, you can feel several eyes on you, observing how you stood your ground. “You’re wrong, but if that’s how you truly feel, I won’t convince you otherwise."

Your perfectly sculpted brows knit together in confusion when you see him take another step closer towards you, but you remain frozen to the floors. From the booth, Yoongi can see your mouth moving; they were poutier than ever - the bottom sticked out so much when you spoke to the stranger across you. He watches the other male tower over you, caressing your soft cheeks and he fists his hand momentarily before he watches you nod to his statement.

Suddenly, Yoongi observes the way you step closer onto the other male’s body; how his arm wrapped around your waist while you had yours propped over his shoulder. It’s been a while since he felt the nauseating boil at the pit of his stomach; he was envious of the man who had you all to himself at the dance floor. His eyes never missed a second of you swaying your hips to the pattern of the romantic guitar in the background, the way the male lured you to press your smaller physique onto his.

When the song ends, Jungkook whispers something into your ear before he barely brushes his petals right above yours. It ghosted over your dry ones and it took every ounce of self-resistance for Jungkook to step away from you and you both bid your goodbyes only to watch the lust driven look on your face direct itself towards where Yoongi sat uncomfortably. Tiffany and Hoseok were having a conversation about cleaning supplies and he could careless about which bleach did the best job of ridding of stains. However, Yoongi, a newly engaged man, found himself standing up from the booth only to examine you from head to toe. He observes the way your chest rose up and down heavily, frustrated and anxious to have what should be hers.

His eyes doesn’t disconnect from yours and you can’t help but swipe your tongue over to wet your petals, tasting the dried alcohol off of your lips and a hint of his strawberry chapstick. He wasn’t aware how hot the entire vicinity seemed to be. In addition to that, there was a minor strain over at his ripped, skinny jeans. When he mentally curses to himself, you begin your exit out of the bar, desperate to breathe in the cool air to relieve you off your non-fulfillments. When the night’s breeze attack your body, the muffled noises from the bar notifies you that you’re absolutely and utterly alone. The cruel reality of the thought finally edged you to your breaking point and you found yourself leaning against the wall, hugging yourself in the process of sobbing. When the doors open once more, revealing that Yoongi had followed you outside, clearly concerned for your well-being.

“What are you doing out here?” You inquire before you begin wiping every single tear that came streaming down your cheeks.

“I’d like to ask you the same question, to be honest.”

“I just needed some fresh air.” You quip bitterly before you sniffle to yourself, swallowing hard when he examines your current state. Hair disheveled from dancing for a decent hour yet your outfit seemed to be well in tact. The white dress shirt still tucked beautifully onto the waist of your beige skirt and some black tights to complement the outfit. But your eyes were too broken to comprehend; they were red and absolutely shattered, yet they shimmered in the night light. When he sees fresh tears staining your cheeks, he desperately seeks to wipe them off of you.

“A month, huh?”

Yoongi’s digits remain frozen midair when he attempt to wipe the tears off of your stained cheeks. He swallows hard, knowing very well where the conversation is leading to. All he could do is nod his head once and drop the hand to his side while takes a few step back, reminding himself that he cannot offer the same comfort to you anymore.

“Well, congratulations, Yoongs. I always thought Michelle would be the first one to get married - even Hoseok or something.” Yoongi was having a difficult time comprehending how you were still joking despite the pain he had put you through.

“Stop the bullshit, YN. I know you’re not okay with this.”

The uneasiness of his voice had your heart racing and your eyes disconnected from his; not wanting to read his mind - or try to read his mind. With pursed lips, the silence gave you a moment to remember everything - all of the pain he has put you through. Alcohol was running through both of your veins and you feel your hands ball into fists.

“But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“From what I heard you’ve been fucking Taehyung.” He scoffs and, suddenly, you were no longer sad.

“So?”

“Well, how’s that working out for you, YN? How is fucking your ex-boyfriend going to make things any better between you and I?” You clenched your jaw and you swallowed hard, trying to understand why he was so frustrated with you. “And then you’re… just… sleeping with random strangers at the club now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, c’mon, Hoseok tells me everything.”

“No - no! You have no right to discuss this with me. You have no right to judge me.” You seethed, stepping closer to his frame. “Just because you’re doing so much better at moving on from whatever the fuck we had, you have no right to judge the way I’m trying to cope with everything when this is all your fault.”

He scoffs bitterly and you pace yourself away from him, running your digits through your mane, wanting to rid of all frustrations out of your body immediately.

“I - I put my feelings to the side! I’ve withstand every single thing concerning you and Tiffany. For fuck’s sake, Yoongi, I even befriended her for your sake…. just to get back to the way things were.” The contrast of the cold breeze on your skin and the hot tears streaming down your cheeks earned an eruption of goosebumps through your skin. Your teeth shattered when you spoke and you swallowed the filter you once possessed. You were mindlessly speaking out loud at this point.

“And, for a while, I thought everything was okay. I’ve accepted that maybe this can work out - that i can move on from you because… I was so fucking happy to see you happy even if it wasn’t with me.”

You chuckled to yourself, reminiscing back to your naivety.

“Then you proposed and that’s when I knew I’m… not even fucking close to getting over you.” His eyes never leave yours and you can see how hard he was gritting his teeth because of how prominent his jaw was. He held his breath as he studies your tired features. The bags underneath your eyes stood out from your skin. Eyes blood shot from your tears and the alcohol - from the pain.

“I don’t know how you did it though. You’ve seen me with Taehyung all those months and you never said a single thing about it.” You started and he watches how your eyes are just searching for the right answer as if you were begging him to give you the answer. “You never did a single thing about it.”

It was his turn to get frustrated with your words. He opens his mouth expecting to raise his voice on you, but with the way you were sobbing, he chooses to calm himself further.

“There was nothing I can do, YN. You were with somebody else.”

“And look how the tables have turned.” You sighed, nibbling onto the bottom of your lip. Tears stopped trailing down your cheeks and you took deep breaths to calm your beating heart. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I’m not over you, Yoongi.” Your voice is small… so small that you feel yourself shrink in size when you amble yourself closer to him. “We both… had the chance to be together, but… we just - we didn’t happen.”

Silence over takes the conversation once more.

“Do you ever think of what could have happened?”

His query catches you off guard and your eyes meet his and you nod once. You inhale deeply, smelling his cologne and the alcohol exuding from his skin. “All the time it’s fucking unhealthy.” You were surprised to hear him chuckle softly to himself and you fold your arms, preventing yourself from doing something you may regret.

“I keep thinking what it would be like to hold your hand.” At the tip of your fingers, you feel the itch desperate to feel the searing heat of his skin against yours. “Every time you whisper something to her, I just… think what it would feel like to have your lips brush up against my ears.” Your cheeks burned when you confess your hidden emotions to him. “I see the way you kiss her; you have your hand caressing her cheek, fingers crawling to the back of her neck and you… sort of cradle her head while you just… kiss her and…”

All sorts of breathing stops when a hot palm frustratingly caresses your cheek, crawling gracelessly across the back of your neck to force your head to tilt towards the towering male. A pair of soft petals crash onto your own when he inevitably caves in and hungrily captures your bottom lip. You responded immediately to his actions, arms slithering around his neck when he firmly pushes you to cold wall, digits tugging at the roots of your hair when his tongue intrudes itself inside your mouth. You savored the heat of his tongue inside your mouth, so you feel your tongue collide against his. He tastes of mint and whiskey and you were addicted to the taste of his mouth.

When the sounds of exiting clientele leaves the bar, you are alerted that this was… wrong.

Yoongi was kissing you.

Yoongi is with Tiffany. You keep chanting it in your head and it took every ounce of willpower for your palms to unfold and push his strong physique off of yours, but you remain frozen underneath his touch.

Instead, he stops. He releases you slowly, lips leaving yourself gently. His hands, however, remain glued to your stained cheeks and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

“We can’t do that anymore.”

You separate your heated bodies away from each other, experiencing a multitude of emotions all at once. There was a satisfaction deep within you at the realization that you were not the only one suffering from the struggle to get over somebody else.

Who knew one single kiss from him was all it took to realize that you wanted more?

“I — we should forget that ever happened.” You licked your lips once more, the guilt clearly painted across your visage and you tried your hardest not to break down when Yoongi exhales out slowly and realizes the immorality of your actions.

He stays absolutely quiet with his lips parted.

“Yoongi, say something. I’m doing this for your sake.” You try to shake him back to reality, worried he might make a choice he sincerely regrets. “Yoongi, you’re engaged… to Tiffany. You’re marrying Tiffany. Please go back inside and be with her.”

He nods his head once and shakes his head, realizing the repercussions of his actions. “We — we can’t say anything.”

“I won’t say anything.”

He purses his lips into a thin line, deciding to amble back to the entrance of the bar.

“YN,” He starts before he opens the door. “I — I’m sorry."

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Reservoir Dogs (Tarantino, 1992)

This review contains spoilers.

For the past few years, I didn’t spend a lot of time rewatching movies. Quite frankly, the thrill of discovering something new (and the risk that it might not be all that good) outweighed the pleasures of the familiar ninety-nine times out of a hundred. Yet this year, perhaps because it’s been so miserable on the whole, I’ve spent a bit more time revisiting films I’d already seen. In some cases, it was to relive the joy of seeing something I already liked or loved. But in other cases, perhaps because I’d been easier to please on average, I would go back to things I’d felt somewhat at a distance to in the hopes that I would finally be won over. Full Metal Jacket finally clicked with me (seeing it in a different aspect ratio did the trick) and I’ve warmed up to The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 as much as I probably ever will. With that in mind, and prompted by a bizarre dream in which I watched it on Netflix in the wee hours of the morning, I ended up waking up stupid early and giving Reservoir Dogs another viewing. (The dream wasn’t terribly interesting, although it did involve me watching the new Scream, which had magically already been completed and was available on Netflix. There was a lot of yellowish, Fincher-esque lighting and Alison Brie got thrown over a railing at one point. As someone who enjoyed the fourth, I was upset by that turn of events, but dreams can be upsetting. In the words of the Shogun Assassin in Shogun Assassin, “bad dreams are only dreams.”)

I don’t think my opinion changed all that much with this viewing. I still feel that it’s one of Tarantino’s weaker films, lacking the confidence and depth of his next few films. I think Tarantino’s career is generally discussed as being split into his earlier, more story-oriented or reality-grounded films and his later, more indulgent genre pastiches, but I think this one lacks the focus that kind of discourse implies. The characters are barely fleshed out and the directorial touches aren’t as purposeful or effective as they would become in his later work. But at the same time, it’s still a stylish and highly entertaining affair, with a great cast giving some very good performances and delivering some punchy, very funny dialogue. It’s pleasures and limitations are obvious and have been better discussed by those more eloquent than me, so I don’t know how deeply I’ll delve into them. (On a side note, I felt a strange pang of nostalgia revisiting this despite it never having been a favourite of mine. It was very big among the internet crowd I first started discussing film with as I first got into the subject, so it’s hard for me to separate those feelings from the actual movie. I got the same feeling watching Boogie Nights a few weeks ago, despite never having seen that film until now.)

But what I did chew over a bit more this time around is how the movie positions the characters’ morality. We know that Tim Roth’s Mr. Orange is the “good guy”, the undercover cop who kills the psychopathic Mr. Blonde played by Michael Madsen. But at the same time he betrays the trust of Harvey Keitel’s Mr. White. Mr. White is sort of a “good guy” too, but foolishly risks his own fate and those of his associates as he bonds with someone who sets him up. Mr. Blonde is a sadistic psychopath but also extremely loyal, having refused to rat out his friends while serving a tough prison term. Steve Buscemi’s Mr. Pink is entirely business-minded and self-interested, but is that really any less honourable than the intentions of those around him? Chris Penn’s Nice Guy Eddie loves his father, Lawrence Tierney’s Joe Cabot, who is the closest thing to a paternal, authoritative presence in the movie, but both are also extremely ruthless, not to mention racist. Tarantino’s relationship with race is complicated (he’s been criticized for his use of the n-word, particularly in a certain scene in Pulp Fiction, and while I do enjoy his performance in that movie, I’m not sure I can defend a certain line of dialogue), but here the characters’ rampant use of racial slurs seems like a clear indicator of their (lack of) character. (These characters also freely use homophobic slurs, but such language was unfortunately a mainstay of macho dialogue at the time and doesn’t seem as pointed a comment on their natures.) Even when Mr. Orange praises the connection he used to get in with the criminals, another character is quick to point out that the connection is ratting out his friends. There’s some moral relativism in my argument here, but the movie invites that line of thought. Reservoir Dogs is about a bunch of lowlife crooks and despite the extent to which we may identify with them, it never lets us forget that.

In that sense, it’s in clear contrast to some of its influences. Ringo Lam’s City on Fire features the same plot but emphasizes the value of brotherhood between the criminals, so that the betrayal there stings extra hard. Tarantino highlights the meaninglessness of such appeals to solidarity. (Bizarrely, Tarantino has denied having seen that other film despite the hard to ignore story similarities. He even dedicated the screenplay to Chow Yun Fat and pulls the image of a dual wielding gunman in sunglasses from that actor’s oeuvre and has made a brand of pulling from his influences, so I’m baffled why he’d deny this one instance.) Jean-Pierre Melville’s work features gangsters in tailoring adhering to strict codes and conducting themselves with honour in dire situations. Tarantino points out the futility of such codes. His next film handles these dynamics even more elegantly. In Pulp Fiction, John Travolta’s character is a villain in one segment and a hero in another, while Samuel L. Jackson’s character reflects on the dishonourable nature of their work and decides to walk away at the end.

Where I think Pulp Fiction succeeds in handling that theme is that it gives us a sense of Jackson and Travolta contemplating (or failing to do so, respectively) their choices and having something resembling actual worldviews (however limited, as in the case of the latter). The characters in Reservoir Dogs in contrast are drawn in shorthand from gangster cliches so that our identification with them is limited. Mr. Orange should be our audience vantage point, but Tarantino fumbles a key scene in which he relates a made-up story to ingratiate himself with the other criminals. It should be about how Mr. Orange wins their trust, which would help make later speculation on his loyalty more dramatically potent, but in choosing to actually depict the proceedings in the story onscreen, Tarantino makes it about the cuts and shot choices he energetically deploys. It’s not a badly directed scene on its own, but the wrong one for the movie. Yet in other scenes, like the opening in the diner, he’s able to elegantly paint character detail while letting us enjoy the surface pleasure of the dialogue. Mr. Pink refuses to tip as an extension of his business-minded nature. Mr. Blonde volunteers to shoot Mr. White, jokingly revealing his bloodthirst. Mr. White takes things too personally (”You shoot me in a dream, you better wake up and apologize”). Joe Cabot struggles to remember a name, implying that his criminal instincts are slipping. The movie shuffles its timeline in the vein of The Killing to draw out these contrasts between the characters and to build to a tense and memorable climax, yet had more of the individual character moments been as deftly handled as this first scene, the film might have landed with me more strongly. That being said, there’s a nonzero chance I’ll come back to this in a few years, hoping it will finally click.

[miloscat]

[Review] Conker: Live & Reloaded (XB)

Let’s see just how well this misguided remake/expansion holds up. This will be a long one!

Conker’s Bad Fur Day is my favourite N64 game. It’s cinematic and ambitious, technically impressive, has scads of gameplay variety with fun settings and setpieces, and when I first played it I was just the right age for the humour to land very well for me. A scant four years later Rare remade it for the Xbox after their acquisition by Microsoft, replacing the original multiplayer modes with a new online mode that would be the focus of the project, with classes and objectives and such.

First, an assessment of the single-player campaign. On a revisit I can see the common criticisms hold some water: the 3D platformer gameplay is a bit shaky at times, certain gameplay segments are just plain wonky and unfair, and some of the humour doesn’t hold up. It’s got all the best poorly-aged jokes: reference humour, gross-out/shock humour, and poking fun at conventions of the now dormant 3D collectathon platformer genre. I also am more sensitive these days to things like the sexual assault and homophobia undertones to the cogs, or Conker doing awful things for lols. Having said that, there’s plenty that I still find amusing, and outside of a few aggravatingly difficult sequences (surf punks, the mansion key hunt, the submarine attack, the beach escape) I do still appreciate the range of things you do in the game.

As for the remake, I’m not sure it can be called an improvement by any metric. Sure, there’s some minor additions. There’s a new surgeon Tediz miniboss, the new haunted baby doll enemy, and the opening to Spooky has been given a Gothic village retheme along with an added—though unremarked on—costume for Conker during this chapter based on the Hugh Jackman Van Helsing flop. Other changes are if anything detrimental. The electrocution and Berri’s shooting cutscenes have been extended, thus undermining the joke/emotional impact. The original game used the trope of censoring certain swear words to makes lines more funny; the remake adds more censorship for some reason, in one case (the Rock Solid bouncer scene) ruining the joke, and Chucky Poo’s Lament is just worse with fart noises covering the cursing.

The most egregious change, and one lampshaded in the tutorial, is the replacement of the frying pan (an instant and satisfying interaction) with a baseball bat which must be equipped, changing the control and camera to the behind-the-back combat style, and then swung with timed inputs to defeat the many added armoured goblings and dolls carelessly dumped all throughout the game world. This flat out makes the game less fun to play through.

On top of this, all the music has been rerecorded (with apologies to Robin Beanland, I didn’t really notice apart from instances where it had to be changed, such as in Franky’s boss fight where the intensely frenetic banjo lead was drastically reduced as a concession to the requirement to actually play it in real life), and the graphics totally redone. Bad Fur Day made excellent use of textures, but with detail cranked up, the sixth generation muddiness, and a frankly overdone fur effect, something is lost. I’m not a fan of the character redesigns either; sure Birdy has a new hat, but I didn’t particularly want to see Conker’s hands, and the Tediz are no longer sinister stuffed bears but weird biological monster bears with uniforms. On top of all this you notice regular dropped details; a swapped texture makes for nonsensical dialogue in the Batula cutscene, and characters have lost some emotive animations. Plus, the new translucent scrolling speech bubbles are undeniably worse.

I could mention the understandable loading screens (at least they’re quick), the mistimed lip sync (possibly exacerbated by my tech setup), or the removal of cheats (not a big deal), but enough remake bashing. To be fair, the swimming controls have been improved and the air meter mercifully extended, making Bats Tower more palatable. And some sequences have been shortened to—I suppose—lessen gameplay tedium (although removing the electric eel entirely is an odd choice). But let’s cover the multiplayer. Losing the varied modes from the original is a heavy blow, as I remember many a fun evening spent in Beach, War, or Raptor, along with the cutscenes setting up each mode.

The new headline feature of this release is the Live mode. The new Xbox Live service allowing online multiplayer was integrated, although it’s all gone now. Chasing the hot trends of the time, it’s a set of class-based team missions, with the Squirrel High Command vs. the Tediz in a variety of scenarios, mostly boiling down to progressing through capture points or capture the flag. Each class is quite specialised and I’m not sure how balanced it is, plus there’s proto-achievements and unlocks behind substantial milestones none of which I got close to reaching (I don’t think I could get most of them anyway, not being “Live”).

The maps are structured around a “Chapter X” campaign in which the Tediz and the weasel antagonist from BFD Ze Professor (here given a new and highly offensive double-barrelled slur name) are initially fighting the SHC in the Second World War-inspired past of the Old War, before using a time machine, opening up a sci-fi theme for the Future War. These are mainly just aesthetic changes, but it’s a fun idea and lets them explore Seavor’s beloved wartime theming a bit more while also bringing in plenty of references to Star Wars, Alien, Dune, and Halo; mostly visual.

Unfortunately the plot is a bit incoherent, rushed through narration (unusually provided by professional American voice actor Fred Tatasciore rather than a Rare staffer doing a raspy or regional voice like the rest of the game) over admittedly nice-looking cutscenes. They also muddle the timeline significantly, seemingly ignoring the BFD events... and then the Tediz’ ultimate goal is to revive the hibernating Panther King, when the purpose of their creation was to usurp him in the first place! It expands on the Conker universe but in a way that makes the world feel smaller and more confusing. It’s weird, and also Conker doesn’t appear at all.

On top of this, I found the multiplayer experience itself frustrating. To unlock the full Chapter X, you need to play the first three maps on easy, then you can go through the whole six. But I couldn’t pass the first one on normal difficulty! The “Dumbots” seemed to have so much health and impeccable aim, while the action was so chaotic, obscured by intrusive UI, floating usernames, and smoke and other effects with loads of characters milling around, not to mention the confusing map layouts, the friendly fire, the instant respawns, and the spawncamping. Luckily I could play the maps themselves in solo mode with cutscenes and adjustable AI and options.

I found some classes much more satisfying than others. I tried to like the Long Ranger and the slow Demolisher, but found it difficult to be accurate. The awkward range of the Thermophile and the Sky Jockey’s rarely effective vehicles made them uncommon choices. I had most success with the simple Grunt, or the melee-range Sneeker (the SHC variant of which is sadly the sole playable female in the whole thing). You can pick up upgrade tokens during gameplay to expand the toolset of each class, which range from necessary to situational. But ultimately it’s a crapshoot, as I rarely felt that my intentions led to clear results.

Live & Reloaded is such a mess. The Reloaded BFD is full of odd decisions and baffling drawbacks, while the Live portion feels undercooked. I’d have preferred a greater focus on either one; a remake is unnecessary, especially only four years on, but a new single-player adventure would have been ace. And a multiplayer mode in this universe with its own story mode could be cool if it was better balanced and had more to it than just eight maps. As a source of some slight scrapings of new Conker content I appreciated it to some extent, but I can’t help being let down. I guess it’s true what they say... the grass is always greener. And you don’t really know what it is you have, until it’s gone... gone. Gone.

Yes, that ending is still genuinely emotionally affecting.