#so many iconic blogs are just gone and the fucked up thing is that even when ppl come back their blogs are shot down

[cherrysnax]

so like what should we do. should we boycott tumblr, suicide bait staff? what can we do for them to restore all of these blogs??

[moonlight-prose]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I have spent several days drafting this post because there's so much I want to say. 2023 was filled with some big moments for me. I graduated college, met my friend group, went on night time adventures, and actually acted like my age for once. I was chaotic and fun and carefree for the first time since I turned 19. But things have also gone wrong in many ways.

Which is why I write this to you guys. The incredible people on this site. Whether you follow me, are my mutuals, or have seen my blog in passing (or in your notes), I want to wish you a Happy New Year.

While this year might have sucked for a majority of it, the light I found in this community - on this site - is unmatched. I have met some of my greatest friends here. I've cried to fics, lost my mind over characters, and written so much more than I actually expected. It's been a hell of a year and an absolute honor getting to thirst with y'all.

So here's to getting sluttier in 2024! I'm toasting my champagne glass to you guys.

I also wanted to simply shout out some very important people to me. They've made 2023 bearable and I couldn't have been happier to know them through this place. A big massive fucking THANK YOU to my darlings. You're the greatest people I know.

@soulores my queen, my babe, my bestie. it is hard to believe we didn't start officially talking till summer of this year, because i genuinely feel like we've known each other for years. from our sunday morning phone conversations, to our screaming in the dms about these fictional men, and movie days with you. i couldn't have asked for a better friend to meet this year. here's to many many more memories in 2024 (and to finally meeting in person!).

@themarcusmoreno what would be a dedication post without mentioning you! my love i am so so fucking happy we met two years ago. all because of pedro pascal. crazy to think i would have found such an incredible person who happened to love all the things i love! you're the greatest friend and i am so grateful for you. thank you for sticking with me.

@sunflowersteves vic the absolute bad bitch. THE PERSON YOU ARE. i am so so so so fucking happy you and i are still mutuals. after meeting through marvel of all things and then pedro and now top gun. there's so many memories with you i cherish. and i can't wait to make more. and a massive thank you for being such a cheerleader for my writing this year. you and ash have managed to keep me going even when times were tough.

@karasong my first EVER mutual on this site. it's so hard to think that if it weren't for you i wouldn't be writing on here. you followed me two years ago and i flipped out and the feeling hasn't changed one bit. i couldn't be happier you're in my life. from starting up the server with you, to yearning for obi-wan, life with you in it is so much better.

@softanon it would not be a proper dedication post if i did not add you babes. dia you are one of my favorite people to exist. you're effortlessly cool, have the best ideas, and i always feel so lucky that i met you. from our talks about the moon knight bois, to tommy miller, to yearning over din djarin, i have loved every single convo with you. they bring me so much joy. you are an incredible person and i am looking forward to SO MANY more convos about our favorite men!

@saradika to one of the greatest people to exist in this fandom i love love love you. your graphics and the love you show to everyone around is so incredible and bright. we seriously don't deserve you, but i am so happy you are here and that you exist. you've made 2024 brighter just by being here.

@tarrenterror25 the spookiest darling ever! when you showed up on the server it was such a good day! and you brought with you so much fun and joy that the server was never the same. i am sending you an infinite amount of love this new years and here's to more chaos with you in 2024!

to my darlings in the dilf nation server:

@arctvrvs thea babes you are iconic, lovely, and are one of the best people to exist. you made 2023 so much better just by being around to yearn over joel with you. i couldn't be happier to know you!

@fluffyprettykitty selene you are the coolest people who has the coolest fics! the love you share on fics is so incredible, it never ceases to bring a smile to my face. also you're just so awesome i couldn't have asked for a better person to join the server.

@rae-gar-targaryen my fanboy lover in crime. i'm sure i've said it countless times, but you are so cool and amazing and beautiful. you are a goddess in real life. the talent you have is so fucking incredible it haunts me. i love each and every one of your creations and i love you as well!

@mostly-megan you are an absolute sweetheart and even though we haven't talked much in 2023, i hope to have so many more conversations with you in the coming new year. sending you my love darling!

@agirllovespancakes iris you lovely human being. i remember when i was first posting hurt you would reblog the greatest comments. and it made me want to continue, because i looked forward to each one. and now that i know you love tommy too! you're so amazing and i dedicate a new years kiss to you.

@inklore you talented insanely incredible person! i could make a whole list of good things about you. i am sending you SO MUCH love for 2024. i hope it's amazing.

@outercrasis birdie my darling i want to tell you all the things that i cherish about you. from the love you showed on black velvet, to the way we screamed about bruce wayne and even frank castle, i live for our conversations. here's to so much more fun in 2024 and infinite convos about saltburn.

tagging those lovely humans who've made 2023 so incredible. please know i love you so much and i am kissing you when the clock strikes midnight. thank you for making this year so incredible!:

@stargazingcarol, @cregan-starks, @lady-of-glass-and-bone, @fushic0re, @targaryenvampireslayer, @pennyserenade, @flightlessangelwings, @stargirlfics, @goldgilzean, @kalllistos, @flordeamatista, @perotovar, @my-secret-shame, @roamwithahungryheart, @galatially, @eloquentmoon, @starryeyedstories, @oscarseyebrow, @iraot, @zinzinina, @thefact0rygirl, @iamskyereads, @navybrat817, @ifimayhaveaword, @the-godparticle

[suckmyfatdee]

HOTD YAP BECAUSE I'M BORED!

Hate=Block, I only allow comments that are respectful about their own opinion and not ones that start frothing at their mouth for my opinion. If you can't handle criticism against your faves(at least against how the show wrote them), don't read.

As much as I believe the writers are far more biased to Rhaenyra, I do believe they fucked over both sides and while trying to make this some kind of Girlboss women empowerment show, they are making their women dumb. Genuinely. I've genuinely thought over everything and compared it to the books and now I'm just thinking "Wtf are you guys doing to our girls?"

And it's the people still believing the show is the absolute canon. Someone said "George was consulted that the show would be the canon of what actually happened, so that means it is the canon.".....Boy, no? Does George's blog post a few months ago not tell you that he didn't agree with the changes and if he's the creator of that world then it's his word against Condal's and Sara's.

Season one was good, I won't lie but even then they started fucking over the characters. I don't think they need to do everything strictly like the books, since obviously this book is supposed to be like a history book with many accounts where it's kinda left for you to interpret what happened or form an opinion of what happened.

But the changes just don't make sense at all or even drastic changes to make a character worse and then to claim that the changes are what actually happened. Just because the books didn't give us a direct account of what happened, doesn't mean that the writers can just change what they want. They've changed so much in ways that don't even make sense and it ways that won't even align to important/iconic events in the books.

The first and foremost thing you notice at the start of the show as a book reader is the ages. They wrote the ages so without even thinking much, events don't line up at all.

And I guess the relationship Rhaenyra had with Alicent was cute at the start, I genuinely loved it. It would have given more spice to their future animosity. But no, they choose the most unrealistic way to approach this, which shows me the show writers have no idea how to critically change their thinking to fit the theme of the world they are writing about. They are using modern thinking rather than the one that makes sense the most. And they also seem to either only view the full picture in black and white, or see colours in the picture that aren't there(adding things that don't make sense).

They made Alicent betray her whole family for a woman who LOGICALLY by their time actually would have to kill her sons, or whose husband would definitely kill her sons. Like come on! These women have been enemies longer than they have been friends, any love towards each other should have started to diminish the moment Rhaenyra had no sympathy for Aemond when he lost his eye and even demanded him tortured, and for Rhaenyra it should have gone the moment Alicent asked for Lucerys' eye. Like come on, they are MOTHERS! And I'm not saying that is all they are and their characters should be knocked down to only being a mother. But even in the books that's an important factor of their character.

And the show made the war so dumb to the point where it truly seems that Rhaenyra and Alicent should by all means be kept away from power. They have no critical thinking at all!

Rhaenyra ran from conflict when Jacaerys asked her if he was a bastard, instead of facing it and trying to further strengthen her claim by trying to at least help or prove her political savvy to the Small Council and Lords. Since the writers already change everything they could have made her stay. But no, she ran. AND GOES TO MARRY THE MAN WHO IS THE VERY REASON SHE WAS NAMED HEIR IN THE FIRST PLACE. THEY WANTED TO KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE THRONE! Then later, when Lucerys' claim to driftmark is challenged she once again, before even attempting to take care of the problem herself, by using logic or properly preparing Lucerys, she begs her bedridden father to make these people listen to her. And when she lost hope that he would, and had to push her son's claim herself, you could hear her start something about twenty years ago...meaning she was probably trying to tell them about how they bent the knee to her and called her heir...in a situation where that mattered only little? This wasn't about her claim, this was about her son's claim, and her son's claim wasn't questioned because she was a woman who was the heir to the iron throne but because people thought her son a bastard, and not a Velaryon which is why they didn't want someone who isn't Velaryon to inherit something from their bloodline. She isn't actually politically prepared AT ALL and obviously thinks that her father naming her heir and making the lords bend their knees to her once ONCE(without even asking their council and before three legitimate sons were born) is the panacea to any political problem she has. That is her not being prepared, and she unknowingly showcases her lack of preparation. Lucky for her, her father saves her ass and gets out of his near death bed to tell the lords to shut up about their problems in favour of Rhaenyra.

And Alicent! A woman who was the Queen Regent when her husband was too ill and kept the Realm at peace with her father, for years, suddenly knows nothing of politics? Please. She ruled in her husband's stead for what I assume is six years(the time after the Driftmark discourse when we obviously see Viserys is too weak), and even before that, after she declared 'war' at Rhaenyra's wedding, she also sat the council considering she was the Queen Consort. She was a part of the council that long, her father is an incredibly intelligent man and the hand of the King and she knows nothing now? Why did she lose her political savvy in season 2?

Why were they both dumb and let each other enter the other's 'territory' while their factions are at war and thousands of innocent are dying, because of the other's faction. Alicent could've had Rhaenyra killed, there were Guards! And when Alicent came to Rhaenyra she could've held Alicent hostage. Critical thinking ladies! I'm not saying that would have stopped the war but Rhaenyra was the reason they fought for and Alicent was the one that sat Aegon on the throne!

And why is Helaena as Queen Consort not doing shit? Before Jaehaerys' death, in the books she also participated the Small Council and actually engaged! And if she can relax at home and seemingly isn't in any way too affected that her son died, why is she being useless? AND I LOVE HELAENA! TRUST I DO! But this is ridiculous what they've done to my girl.

Baela is just Rhaenyra's cheerleader now and will lecture/sorta manipulate and gaslight anyone that doubts Rhaenyra or feels openly conflicted.

Rhaena....I'm just gonna be silent.

Rhaenys was okay, badass but not the smartest.

Like, they've done my women dirty. Don't start a war with me.

Anyways. End of yap.(Can you tell I'm a certified yapper?)

[eldritch-spouse]

Okay, first off, I ADORE your blog. You're writing style and creativity? *Chefs Kiss*

Secondly, I wanted to ask, how do the Icons of Hell react to a reader SO that is self-conscious, and\or has low self-esteem?

(I also can't help but wonder if Vorticas[I think that's the right spelling] name is a pun?)

[Thenk you very much, I'm pleased you're having fun. <:7]

Self-conscious reader and the Icons

Vesper is perhaps the nicest about it, realistically. You're Queen of Lust, everyone wants you and everyone admires you! What kind of madness is this?! What do you not like about to yourself? He'll make you sit down and tell him, just list it off. He's no psychologist, but Vesper's sure changes in your routine and self-afirming exercises will strip that out of you.

Vorticia has had many kids, all of which have already gone through their very hectic adolescent phases, in which they struggled with all sorts of natural self-esteem issues. She knows the types of things that can be weighing you down, and although her attitude is very "no nonsense", the Queen of Gluttony will crack at your tilted view of reality jarringly fast. She's the first to notice how deep your insecurities go.

Zizz is entirely out of his depth. He doesn't know what to do with you. He's not sure why you feel this way, and he's even more stressed out when his frantic declarations of your supposed perfection are just shunned. He even gets a tad irritated. He doesn't know what to tell you, so he forces you into dreams where you're worshipped from top to bottom- Physically and verbally, by numberless faceless demons and himself. He hopes repeating this achieves something.

Kalymir is a cunt. An honest cunt. He doesn't know what the fuck is in that shitheap you call a brain, but it's all wrong. It fucking grates on his nerves hearing you say that shit, get out, touch the ground, do something you moping little ball of misery! What are you, some fucking loser? Chin up, bitch- You're the Queen of Wrath! Act like it, dumbass. Do you think he would have picked you if you were worthless?

Rinx unfortunately has a very linear approach to dissatisfaction. Materialism. But how can you be insecure, when you have everything you could ever want laid at your feet, woman?! What is there to be insecure about? Come on, you're overthinking it. You'll have to be more vocal about it with Rinx, he will gladly get you help, but he doesn't really know how to tackle it on his own.

Cero... Will only assert your insecurities. He doesn't even mean to do it (unless it's a punishment), but it's not in his nature to praise or lift spirits. He thinks the correct way to go about this is to have everyone else praise and worship the ground you walk on, instead of adressing you directly. See, don't be a fool, look how superior you are to them. This is childish honestly, the two of you have better things to waste your time on.

Livius is someone you need to urgently avoid, like the plague. Remember, he mimics you. If you're deeply insecure and unwell, he'll take on those traits too. What ends up happening is that he'll adopt your insecurities and create a cycle of negative feedback. No, you're not ugly- He's ugly!!! HE'S STUPID AND USELESS. Congratulations, now you're both mentally unwell.

To address the name thing, a lot of these names are puns, and I've said it before too.

Vorticia = Vore + Morticia.

Rinx = "Rings".

Zizz = Catching Z's.

Kalymir = Derived from "calamity".

Vesper = Not exactly a pun so much as I'm determined to give vaguely religious names to sex demons as an inside joke.

Livius = From a roman origin, means "livid or envious". Liviu, a man who envies others.

(Di) Cero = Means wax in Latin, because this fucker waxes poetic. It also sounds like "zero" in some languages (including mine), and he's a whole ass 0/10. The name is also said to be associated with unstable, bitter individuals.

[pseudonymphomania]

If you haven't already answered it (I can't find your FAQ >A< My tumblr literacy is GONE!) it's been on my mind since I first saw your username. Is it Pseudo or Pseudonym? What is the story behind it too?

Thank you for asking! ISTG my tumblr has been under construction for so long that I keep forgetting I actually have to construct it. Let this be the first thing I link to for my FAQs because it comes up often.

I went through many name changes over the years as a fan of things, but the time came when I could no longer be contained by the label Enjoyer and finally evolved into my ultimate form; Creator.

I started playing god back in the grand old times of February 2023 (this blog was created around March 2023 in the midst of me writing my first story so I could make press-releases about it because having-fun-is-an-all-ages-activity). This was before I thought I could even make art; I was purely a writer and not a very good one at th I was pretty decent at it.

There are a few things going on with my username. Pseudonym (fictitious name), and Nymphomania (excessive sexual desire), and together Pseudonymphomania is fictitious excessive sexual desire (because I write smut haha). I'm on the asexual spectrum and the process of writing enables me and others to experience it theoretically (you can even say Fictitiously).

In terms of what kind of fan I am, I veer on the silly side of things. I am a purveyor of comedy and I often make literary or meme references or a mashup of the two. On the flip-side, I'm also an essayist and fan-academic. A Pseudonym is something that is used in the writerly world and especially in the fan space, so why shouldn't I be a little silly and call-back to it?

The real question is, what the fuck I decided to use as my icons back then:

Since I wasn't a digital artist until after I finished my first story, I used Canva and free assets to create my first one. I had a kind of bland beige background with four different coloured hands reaching toward a strawberry ice cream cone. The ice cream is phallic imagery, especially with the pink head making it look like a peen. I used a serif font (evokes an image of classic literature) for the username. And it was a visual travesty.

I soon refined my taste and I made a second pfp with an all-white background to imitate the pages of a book. For clarity, I used a sans-serif font for the username this time and curved it into a circle, added two hands grasping it like looking into a crystal ball (the process of writing). The ice cream is dripping/melting [.............] and there's a little heart (universal visual for love) at the tip of it, acting as a sprinkle (representing "Prn with Feelings", an AO3 tag)

The thought process behind this kind of nonsense is what you can expect from me for literally everything. I've since stopped using cryptic symbolism and just use my own art, but that doesn't mean I stopped being ridiculous.

If you've seen me in the other places I hang around and wonder why it's not Pseudonymphomania everywhere even though I sign all my works as that...

PseudonymFanfic (Reddit): Created April 2023. Character Limits for username. At the time, I was only a writer. I couldn't change it after.

PseudonymDicks (Twitter): Created March 2023. Character Limits for username. Used to be called PseudonymFanfic like my Reddit and hosted all my works, including SFW and NSFW) until I was shadowbanned for containing too much flavor and never taken off it. This became NSFW only and my name changed to Dicks to reflect that. PseudonymDicks is also what I'll be using for my NSFW patreon when I get that set up, unless there's a restriction on that kind of naming that will force me to be PseudonymDix or something, oh my lords. Please no.

PseudonymWorks (Twitter): Created January 2024. SFW and Suggestive works only. The second twitter exists because a tree falling in a forest should be heard by someone who wants to harvest the firewood. PseudonymWorks is also what I'll be using for Etsy, Kofi, Patreon, etc. when I get those set up.

I continue to be Pseudonymphomania on here, AO3 and Bluesky and wherever else I am not limited by how long my name is that everyone knows who I am but nobody knows how to spell my name. (The mirth this gives me feels delightful)

"How are you so prolific?" Obsession. Some things become a catalyst for improvement that you will never see coming. How could I predict liking DiaLuci so much that it would spawn a million works from my abused hands when I originally started playing Obey Me for a whim and a lark?

Fandom is an island in Hell and I am determined to enjoy it.

I hope you enjoyed reading my personal lore. Thank you for being here. :)

[fandomfluffandfuck]

p much every mainline-connected marvel videogame or those outsourced cartoons end up being mediocre anyways but i get annoyed how bucky's always either not in the IP-ed games or everyone has such superficial personalities and character adaptations that they never have him interact with steve much or in any meaningful way, which is weird bc why even use the IP at that point?

anyways, im just wondering when marvel's gonna see all the critical acclaim bill and frank got from that show and realize that audiences will clap for even a crumb of old men soulmates. its easy money to just sprinkle it into everything that has their IP, those videogames, cartoons, comics, shows, movies. money on the table idk why they still don't take it

(This seems to be related to a prior discussion. Was this sent to the wrong blog by chance? I get what you're saying, but also, I can see how it might be unrelated, too.)

I feel that it is fair to be annoyed. If you're consuming the content with knowing the background of past Marvel conent, I get how it can be disappointing. It's gone downhill as they begin to care more obviously about money than the characters themselves.

I don't really know anything about what is happening in Marvel because I don't look at basically any current Marvel content because... well, a lot of reasons, but among them are those out-of-character changes to no-homo Steve and Bucky's relationship you mentioned. I mean, I am thrilled for Sam getting to be Cap. It's a long time coming to have a person of color in that iconic role. But. Just. I'm not expecting great things from Marvel itself because they don't even fucking let their actors do their fucking jobs! Mackie will be great because he's great. But, there's only so many strings to pull on when you hardly know the script.

And as for why they don't even give us crumbs of stevebucky content...

It's about the 🤌🏻homophobia🤌🏻

Like, sure, Marvel would get more money from stucky fans (and likely from queer people generally because we're starved for queer representation in mainstream media), but then they'd lose money from all the conservative, homophobic people and all the people who care about not pissing off (or "offending") those conservative, homophobic people. So. There's no way they'd ever do that 🙃

*long sigh, because, what is it to be a fan of Bucky and Steve but to be a Marvel hater?*

[8054yamato]

01/27/2024

I was thinking about it and maybe I should start posting videos about me just rambling or venting. I can talk about whatever I want, even the most trivial topics, or do whatever I want. If I am, it will probably be around sometime March, maybe later.

Should I invest in a mic? My laptop mic sucks and I know that for a fact. The camera seems decent, but maybe my phone might be better. Then again, I dislike using my phone as a camera because it will start falling. Plus I will not like the angle since I do not have anything to make it stand at a good height. Do I even need to show my face?

That is a good question. Should I show my face? I do not want to because I want to remain anonymous. If my identity gets leaked somehow, I am ghosting everybody, including my family. The ghosting part will already happen by the time I enlist into the army, but if I happen to get leaked, I will probably drop out, enlist, and ghost everybody immediately. Hopefully I am able to get a GED during my service.

I can probably just do torso cam, but that would be hella weird. I do not know. I definitely would like to start speaking my thoughts but without showing my face. If I do these types of videos, I want it raw. No cuts, no edits, just publishing the video exactly how it was recorded. I will still be on Tumblr because there are days where I do not feel like talking at all.

I have been getting into bullet hell type games recently so I might start uploading some gameplay of that too. I am really new and barely play so I will be terrible haha. The first and only Touhou game I played for a little bit was a fan game on Steam because apparently the originals you would need to have so much preparations. I am not about to do all that unless I become a complete slave to it. Anyways, that fan game had a decent soundtrack and looked like a Touhou game. I feel like a big part of Touhou are their music. I listen to some of it even though I have not played the original games. That is how iconic it is.

I recently made a YouTube account to publish the snippet there as well. I am wondering if I should publish my music and blogs/gameplay in the same channel. I just might because I am lazy.

Ren Ashikaga - YouTube

^^^ Click on that if you want to check out my channel.

I want to get into the specifics on what I want to do with my YouTube channel. I want to showcase some hobbies, my notebooks, vent/rant/ramble, act philosophical, choreographies, Touhou gameplay, music, how my day or week went, cool items, and occasional mukbangs. Documenting my life before I either ghost everybody or end up dead would be interesting.

To the few people who somehow went through all my blogs: what are you doing? Thank you though. You got a glimpse of someone else's life from that very person. That is something exceedingly rare. I do not think you will find many online who will consistently blog with detail, but who knows? I hope you learn something from myself. I hope that lesson is to not become like me. I am okay and used to being alone.

Permanently being inside my room is something I have come into terms with. I have not gone to school this entire month of January so far. It is not a good thing though, but I acknowledge the entirety of my situation. Go explore the world outside. I promise you, if you are alone for so long, you do nothing but think.

Many people who live the "chronically online lifestyle" make no money and have to rely on their parents. Not saying that I aspire to be that, matter fact, I am working towards making money online to support my lifestyle. In that realm, you are, statistically, going to be reliant on someone else. When that happens, you will lose all sense of logical reasoning and will end up like the channers and redditors. You will have problems differing from right and wrong.

All the chronically online channers and redditors are fucking losers. They are gross, icky, yucky. They all try to sound smart and they may be educated/smart in certain fields of their interest, but they are far from likable people. They generally do not have proper hygiene, consume energy drinks 24/7, and they live off of someone else's support even though they are 30.

Yesterday, I have seen a few threads of these people openly admitting to being a pedophile, bashing on any positive people they see, and ranting about how their parents do not give them enough support. They even start targeting minors on social media. Makes my blood boil.

Anyways, I just wanted to talk about my plans for social media in the future.

I just Googled the requirements to enlist just now. It says I need to be a high school graduate. I will probably need to homeschool because there is no way I can make up enough credits to be able to graduate. Hopefully it is not too late for homeschooling.

I have rambled on too long. I hope all is well and stay pessimistic. Bye.

[dinitride-art]

The tag has a lot more people than we started out with- and we’ve all got differing opinions. And that’s actually a really good thing for the sake of discussion and making people think and have opinions on the media they’re consuming. However, if someone’s saying shit you really don’t like. Or even just don’t want to see. Or if it annoys you. Or maybe you just don’t like their icon or something.

Block them. Curating your own online experience is a skill, and it’s really easy to do. Especially on tumblr because you can block people from so many different places. Like their own blog, or I think even the little dots on posts. And then they’re gone. Forever. Or unless at some point you decide to unblock them but that’s up to you. I’ve been on tumblr for like six years and I have more people blocked then I can name. I can’t even remember what I’ve blocked most of them for. But I did. Because I have the ability to decide what I see and what I don’t see. The same with filtered tags and filtered content. Don’t like it? Block it.

And yeah, sometimes people sound mean about it… and you do have the ability to block (or unfollow if you don’t necessarily want to go that far… I’m more of an all or nothing type of person when it comes to my dash but. You do you) them. Not liking how something is worded isn’t indicative of the validity of their opinion. But you can still block them if you don’t like it.

How I’ve written this uses ‘you’ and ‘I’ pronouns, which you aren’t supposed to use in essay writing because it others the author from the reader. It creates two sides in our minds which means people get defensive. But in that sentence where I used ‘our’ it’s different. I’m grouping ‘us’ - the author and the reader- together. On the same side. Being passive aggressive, if I’m not mistaken, usually uses forced teaming. So like. I guess what I’m saying here is that people say stuff all the time. Text is a lot harder to understand tone and infliction (that’s why things like tone indicators exist) in than when someone’s actually speaking. There are beats used, and stresses that may or may not come across. And may seem like people are angry at you specifically.

And I can’t say if that’s intentional or not. But I can say that we all can choose whether or not we want to see and interact with that. I choose to a lot of the time because it doesn’t bother me that much. I don’t read posts that say ‘you’ and think they’re talking to me. That’s just how I personally perceive things. I’m naturally detached from argumentative speaking and writing. Most of the time I don’t even recognize when it’s happening- or why. But if there is anything that bothers you- block them. Because changing people is a dangerous thing to start. The line is never drawn, and when it comes to something that doesn’t really affect you. Like an online fandom. You have the ability to distance yourself and make what you want to see, what you see.

It’s not the same as like, me walking outside and saying I’m genderqueer and having to try and change the minds of the people around me. To ensure my own safety. Like, it’s okay to block people. I think I blocked someone today because they were talking about one thing too much and I really didn’t want anything to do with it. Just like. Vibe. And make your dash your own. Because changing people is far too much work, and it’s not necessary, and idk man. I don’t fuck with discourse, because I personally don’t like it. And this isn’t really discourse I don’t think, it’s more of an overarching discussion about how the discourse is happening? Maybe? But either way, it doesn’t really matter. The idea of everyone thinking the same thing is so fucking dangerous anyways. It’s what causes the worst shit to happen. Genocide and war and all of it.

So, block people if you don’t like ‘em (punintentional lol) and like think thoughts. About stuff. Critical thinking is the best skill you can have. Anyways sorry for all that op- I’ve just got some thoughts apparently.

Some of you guys need to get a grip 💗 you don’t like people posting directly on someone else’s/your posts about things they disagree with but you ALSO don’t like them making their own post & then whine and call it an attack. Accusing people of bullying when they happen to passionately disagree (esp when they’re disagreeing with shit that is often literally bordering (or beyond bordering) on casual homophobia).

Get a grip on your victim complex. People can post whatever they want in the tag esp when it’s shit that’s not even fucking harmful. People are not obliged to keep the tag as a “safe space” from disagreement & people passionately disagreeing with you and even maybe being a bit of a dick is not making a space unsafe. Welcome to the existence of other people. If you’re going to put a thought out into the todo, be prepared for people to have thoughts about that thought, thoughts that you -gasp- may not agree with.

I find it so fucking funny that people claim that “we’re being bullied for thinking mike isn’t gay” when the reality is that a.) I have been passionately disagreeing with you and haven’t jumped onto your post nor mentioned you directly even ONCE and people like that have also vagued me and others but I guess it’s only okay when you do it & when you do it in a less passionate more “uwu neutral 🥺” way. and b.) the shit I’ve gotten in my inbox right after posting abt gay Mike has been insane.

If you’re “afraid to go in the tag” because people are disagreeing with you and even doing so passionately, then BLOCK those people (myself included) and move the fuck on with your day instead of turning it into some big Moral Issue.

I just find it so funny that some people can do the same shit I’m doing (‘vague’ posts which I do because i don’t want to jump onto others’ posts directly) but because they’re doing it behind a victim complex guise of uwu niceness and neutrality, it’s suddenly fine and a double standard is created.

[renthony]

Reminder that the discussion about needing non-alcoholic and all-ages queer spaces was pretty universally agreed on until asexuals started agreeing that we wanted access to them, too. Then suddenly it was "homophobic" to point out that gay bars aren't accessible to all.

I have a hair trigger for this conversation because of how many times it has been brought up SPECIFICALLY to drag ace and aro people through the mud. If someone shits on the idea of queer cafes, my hackles go up, because of how often that topic has been used to abuse aspecs.

"do you have a source"

I was a mod on a few different ace & aro positivity blogs roughly between 2015-2019. I have seen some shit, y'all. "Queer cafe" discourse isn't inherently aphobic--of course it's not!--but it gets used in a shitty way A LOT.

(TW sexual assault & substance abuse) Also, I won't go to queer bars anymore. Half my friends are recovering alcoholics, and one of the few times I DID go to the local queer bar, some twink I had never met tweaked my nipple because he thought it was funny. So.

Alcohol companies prey on queer people. Underage queer people exist. Disabled queer people exist. Sober queer people exist. All these are reasons for non-bar queer spaces.

But the SECOND aspec people started agreeing with that? The discourse changed. Suddenly queer bars were sacrosanct and could never be critiqued or you'd get called a homophobe.

It's directly rooted in aphobia. And nobody really talks about it outside aspec places.

tbh I feel completely insane a lot of the time because of how many things immediately put my hackles up bc they've been used to abuse aspecs

but y'all, there is SO MUCH of it

Aspecs have been consistently abused by the entire rest of the queer """community""" for so long.

"dare I say asexual" is a phrase that will immediately activate my fight-or-flight

I can't look at aspec pride edits anymore without remembering the mass-spamming of aspec tags on tumblr. They were full of gore, animal abuse, and fake pride edits proclaiming people like Ronald Reagan and Charles Manson as "ace icons" for no fucking reason other than hurting people

There used to be a lot of common community pride symbols that were pretty well known across most English-speaking aspec spaces. They're almost completely gone now.

And I just...I feel so paranoid and insane and overreactive, and it's so hard to explain to people who didn't live through it that, yes, there are lots of seemingly-innocuous things that got used as abuse tactics against entire aspec communities. And we don't get believed.

idk man, I just want to see more people talking about the way pretty much every single ace or aro person has been traumatized and gaslit and forced out of queer spaces. The "it only happens online" bullshit hasn't been true in fucking YEARS.

It IS happening IRL, y'all. I don't go to queer events in my city anymore, even pre-covid, because I've had falling-outs with multiple ppl in my community who decided to shit all over aspecs. It's not the only reason, but it's on the list.

Aphobia is REAL, it has MATERIAL effects, and it HURTS.

[evopanda]

Back after a long time...

For some reason I couldn't get my old account to work which was evopandawithalumpia. My last post on that account was 2016. When the site changed ownership and the NSFW stuff became banned my account got marked NSFW and I had issues making anything work anymore. I couldn't change anything, I wanted to change my icon for instance. The only solution I could think of was just deleting my account. I am not sure if I'll use this much since I am back at square one and I moved on to other social media. But since Twitter is imploding and I am not using Instagram much and Meta is imploding as well. Who knows?

After I deleted my account I should have at least saved the follower list to see if anyone is till around. I searched my old name and found one person. I thought I backed up my old account but I guess I might have just deleted it and/or never backed it up in the first place. There is still remnants of the site on the way back machine if anyone wanted to see what it looked like.

I think its gone forever which I think might be good as most of the posts were of me being hella emo going from one toxic relationship to the next. I don't need to reflect anymore on that pain but I will for this post just so people have context for my return.

I had substance abuse issues and went in relationships with people who wanted to keep me in the dark, they were ashamed of being with a trans woman. It fucked with my psyche at the time. I didn't have that much self worth back then I just wanted to be loved even if it was from people who didn't really respect me. I also was on a low dose of estrogen during most of my time on the site and I know that I was erratic because of it. I am now a bit more level headed now that I am back on a normal E range due to a lab error that finally got recognized years later.

One of things that changed since I last used this site was me quitting drinking(three and a half years sober) and try to stay away from hard drugs. You won't be seeing posts about me going to the club a bunch which was something I used to do often. I would say I am a lot less social than when I ran my old blog so you wont be seeing a bunch of party posts. I had a falling out with a lot of my old friends many of which I mostly just drank with and did drugs with. I stopped doing activism for the most part due to SD Trans Pride wanting cops for security and I wasn't about that. I am a bit more on that "Arm Trans Woman" vibes so I sticked to that side of the internet post my first Tumblr blog.

I also am single and haven't been in a relationship in a while. I don't really feel the need to get in a relationship and I am happy for the most part being single.

Some of my old best friends I have moved on from. One of them kicked me out of his house after I moved to his place, he then apologized and wanted me back but the damage was done. One of my good friends because a Q-Anon conspiracy person and after seeing some posts she liked that were trans-misogynistic I gave up on her.

If I do use this site I will likely use it as a diary again since I like just doing word vomit in general and I find it cathartic to share my feelings. Instagram/Reddit/Twitter aren't really good for long writtern format.

[concerto-roblox]

gonna try and list every theme this blog has gone through (and by theme i mean ✨️aesthetic✨️ not html coding i'm not smart enough for that asfdgfkd) bc i'm bored, like making lists, and just changed my theme and it prompted me to reminisce:

pastel purple + clouds and stars - the og from september 2018-2019 (this used to be one of those basic pictures that would come up first if you searched 'purple aesthetic' but now i can't find it 😭😭 went through a few different icons but i remember marinette was one of them and i think bow was one too?? maybe glimmer as well)

various colours + gbbo - late 2019 (don't ask... it was a weird phase of my life and we are respectfully not going to talk about it <3 /lh)

blue and purple + kipo - this must've been early 2020 since it was kipo!! (pretty sure the icon was kipo on the ferris wheel but i don't remember the header)

red and green + studio ghibli - 2021 (i call this one the strawberry one!! the header gif was of the rain from my neighbour totoro and it was super dark green. i might have had it in 2020 as well? idk. went through many icons with this one, all i know is there was bi malvie, bi jewel sparkles, bi frances janvier and bi draculaura)

autumn orange and green + over the garden wall - october 2021 (this one was cute for the season but it didn't feel right having no pink on my blog. i don't remember the header (may have also been rain?) but i know the icon was greg holding the frog)

neon pink and black + draculaura - november 2021 (this one slayed tbh. went through a few icons including draculaura, bi peter parker, and ricky rain frog)

dark blue and purple + angels in america - may 2022 (i was rly attached to this one i lovedddd the vibes (plus my icon of prior standing in front of the angel statue was so!!), but unfortunately the brainrot of the next one was too strong </3)

light pink and blue + stranger things - august 2022 (i spent way too long making that fucking weezer edit and had nowhere to put it so, unfortunately, i had no choice but to make it my header. my bi steve icon is beloved even if it was frequently abandoned for various byler cults <33)

pastel pink and purple + do revenge - september 2022 (this movie slaps so hard i'm OBSESSED and the gradient on the post was so pretty i just had to incorporate it into my blog!! it took a lot of trial and error because i had to extend the gradient myself but i eventually got it. the icon of eleanor with headphones is also my lb profile pic <3)

yeah... pretty sure there's more than that but i can't remember 😔

[snowfallen-nymph]

Regarding the harassment, rumors, and false claims…

So here I am once again having to come out to defend myself against this person, because it seems this certain serial art thief, scammer, and bully once again cannot leave my name out of their mouth and has gone through extensive measures to not only stalk, keep tabs on me, and avoid block altogether and attempt to spread lies, cause drama, harass, and slander my name because they simply cannot put this to rest. I’ve tried my best to avoid this mess and ignore it altogether because it is tiring and the amount of proof against you is enough to rest my case, but the moment the rumors of ‘p*do pandering’ and ‘targeting young girls’ or ‘teenagers’ came into play next to my name is when I must and NEED to put this shit to an absolute stop. How fucking dare you or anybody even attempt to consider such a gross accusation! Talk about whatever salty bullshit you want but to spread false rumors of that regard is absolutely serious and disgusting beyond belief when there are actual unfortunate cases that have and continue to happen in this community!

I’ll say it again, Kharma Shade, @/darlasboobs, @/sprusillas on Twitter, and wherever else you might be hiding just so you can continue to keep tabs and perpetually stalk me, leave me and my friends the fuck alone!

For anybody uninterested in this please feel free to ignore and scroll on, and once again I apologize for having to bring up this old tiresome shit…

First off, you’re a grown ass fucking adult, not some ‘young girl’ or ‘teenager’ you literally informed us at the start of this thing a year ago that you were 23 and engaged. If you are younger or older than it doesn’t matter outside of being fucking weird you would even lie to begin with as if to use your age or youth as a method of not being held accountable for your actions. Here is you admitting that when you apologized to my friend for your actions on A&C when this shit first started with them:

You’ve made it so terribly obvious that you will post on that damned secrets blog pretending to be multiple people when it is literally just you, as well as vague about me on your Twitter, as you’ve done this numerous times in the past. Do whatever the fuck you want with your OC and RP the biggest fucking issue I had with you was not only did you steal my commissioned artwork(and others) to be referenced for your own OC and copied, but you literally took my own personal artwork I made without permission as well as my friend’s artwork gifted to me to have referenced and essentially carbon copied into your own.

Here is actual proof of you admitting all of this before deactivating your Tumblr:

There are even more receipts of you scamming a smaller artist out of two colored sketches which you never paid for!

Not only that but you and your ‘friends’ were literally threatening su*cide and harassing me for days if I refused to take down my original post calling you out and at one point you even ‘disappeared’ while these ‘friends’ were constantly bullying me and crying wolf that you actually did it! You even posted that shit on your Tumblr prior to deactivation!

As a reference here is a link to my previous post since you seem to have forgotten all of the former evidence against you and why this whole thing started to begin with:

Leave me the fuck alone! I haven’t even thought about you nor mentioned you since that whole ordeal and I have no fucking clue what possible ‘iconic traits’ and plagiarism you are even talking about. What plagiarism??? I don’t have any descriptions of my OC made public unless you are seriously digging through years of archives of my writing on here which is both CREEPY and STALKING! Considering I have you BLOCKED on every platform I know you on and don’t want you anywhere near me!

I haven’t made any changes to my OC in years aside from hairstyles and eyelashes and maybe just my art style progression, and all of that is documented on my social handles/DeviantArt which if you were actually any good and not entirely selective you would fucking know.

I have artwork that dates years back and we’ll before I even knew who you are or when you were known to pull shit like this! The only changes that have been made to my Amora’lei outside of hairstyles were her ‘white eyelashes’ which my friend, who is known as the other ‘albino elf’, and I have discussed as we’ve long since hashed our issues yeaaars ago and are incredible friends. We even inspire each other in our art and writing all of the time; I don’t know how many times this needs to be made clear.

[elphiej]

Be My Light: Chapter 1 Shadows from Our Past

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, gun fight, mentions of abuse, mention for drugs. 

Author’s note: Hi everyone, here is chapter one. My editor and I had some conversations about the length; they wanted to shorten it and I wanted to leave it in tact for the sake of the flow. Let me know if the length is too long or not. Also, there are a bunch of easter eggs (bangtan lyrics, iconic outfits, ect. as we continue) let me know what you find. And, of course, thank you for reading and let me know what you liked. 

Tag list: @lalalalaloo-blog​, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng​, @barbikatherine​, @mrsfortune1306​

The sun had just begun to fill the windows of the Lotus Apartment when you stepped out of your unit, coffee tumbler in one hand and bag slung over one shoulder , ready for a gruelingly long shift at Central Mercy Hospital. You let your eyes scan the corridor for any signs of life; no one else in their right mind would be up this early, yet anxiety had you checking the halls before you felt secure enough to fully exit your apartment. Taking out your keys, you pull your door shut and lock the two deadbolts that had become necessary in your mind.

And not just because of the active gang activity in this part of the city.

It had been close to three months since you had come to Central. And over four since you had left your miserable excuse of a ‘boyfriend’; The lying, abusive snake that was Daniel.  Just thinking about him made your stomach churn. Your time in Central, alone in your apartment, helped you reflect on your relationship and how toxic it had been. At first, it was nice. He had been your friend. He had been supportive and kind. Then, he was your roommate, taking care of you and being your security in uncertain times. Then, he became your boyfriend. It was nice and normal, something you thought you’d never have. He was protective, at least that’s how you saw it at the time. Looking back now, it was controlling and manipulative. He would say things that you thought were sweet, but now you understood they were horrible things. He said he wanted an obedient, good girl; he’d tower over you and make you feel so small. And for some reason, you believed him. You stayed like that for too long. After you had taken a job, trying to help support the two of you, his behavior got worse. He started to drink, and his abuse became more physical. Afterwards, he’d always say how sorry he was, how much he cared about you, or how he only drank because he was worried about you. Somehow it was always your fault. He wanted you to quit your job at a small medical clinic near his secluded home, but it was your only escape. To make it worse, you found out he had been sleeping with another woman. And still, you stayed with him, because he had fucked your head up so bad that you thought you needed him. The final straw that snapped some sense into you was when you confronted him about the other woman. He had come home from drinking with her and went crazy when you said you were leaving. He screamed, threw you around the apartment, hit you. Then he trapped you against a wall and started choking you. Had you not been able to grab hold of a bottle he had left on an end table and hit him just right, you may not have made it this far.                                

You left that night with just your backpack full of clothes and the few personal belongings that you had with you, your cellphone, and the money in Daniel’s wallet. And you ran all through the night. You didn’t have a plan or destination but you just had to get as far away from him as you could. A small voice under all the doubt and fear that he had piled on you, cheered and drove you to keep going.  You didn’t stop moving until you found a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. The driver had told you it was headed to Central, and something in that name seemed familiar to you. It drew you there like a siren’s call. Central was so large, it felt like it could have classified as a country. It was the perfect place to disappear. As the bus pulled into its terminal, that familiar feeling came back in as you gazed about the large buildings. But you chalked that up to remembering that you and your father moved around a lot.

It was one of the few memories you had like that.

Over the last few months, you had questioned why Daniel had changed so much. He had been the first face you remember seeing after the accident. And he had been the one to break the news to you. There had been a terrible accident, a horrendous car crash. You had been in the passenger seat when the car had broadsided by a drunk driver, sending the car rolling into a ditch. You had survived but your injuries were so severe that you had to be placed in a medical coma, and the trauma had affected your memory. When you woke up, you could remember very little of your past; You remembered that you had studied to be a nurse and recently graduated, that your father had been your only family, and that he had been a high ranking police officer. Daniel’s face was something that you sort of remembered as well, and you figured that was why you clung to him like an anchor. But everything else was wrapped in a dense fog, shattered like pieces of glass that couldn’t be put together. Daniel had, also, broken the news to you that your father hadn’t survived the accident. He stayed close to you for over a year, helping you through therapies, reminding you to take your anxiety medications, and wiping away the tears. He was perfect. But then, it changed. And any time you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush you off or say that he was stressed out, but that he loved you and just let him do what he needed.

What was funny was that in the months since leaving him, a piece of a memory had resurfaced. It was of your father and how he didn’t seem to like Daniel all that much. You could only think of what your father would have said when he saw what his daughter had become. You did remember how he had taught you to be strong and tough, to stand up against the bullies. He would be disappointed now. You rubbed your neck where he had choked you, smelling his alcohol pungent breath as he said so many nasty things to you.

But you got out and for that, anyone should be proud.

Shaking your head from the bad memories, you shoved your keys back into your bag and down the dimly lit hall towards the elevator. You felt a tad silly looking over your shoulder, thinking one day he was gonna show up at your door and drag you back to that unsafe mind set, but you had learned from the support group you had been to that it was normal. Thankfully, you were about to have a long shift to distract you from all those feelings. The intensive care unit had been short staffed, and with the increase in gang activity, everyone was working extra hard.  Central Mercy was the most active hospital in all of Central; the others were less willing to help gang members or those targeted for fear of retaliation. But once they came through the ER doors, it didn’t matter what they were. If they needed help, you would help. Even villains need help, and maybe your help can change them, your father’s voice had echoed from somewhere in the foggy parts of your mind. Also, Central Mercy was the main hospital dealing with the current outbreaks of drug overdoses due to a strange street drug known as U4-1A, a highly addictive and deadly substance that had been making its way through the city. Mercy was more equipped for trying to save the overdoses that kept popping up. You had only seen a few of those cases, but the doctors who had been on the front of those, had described it as a mix of “ecstasy, meth, and cocaine all rolled into one deadly substance”. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why people would do that to themselves. But, then again, who would stay with a person who abused you for so long? As you stepped into the small elevator, you really needed a distraction from all these bad thoughts and your best friend, Amber, should be on her way into work by now. You decided to try and text her.  

Bless that girl, she had been a big part in getting you back into a functioning human being. When you had stepped off the bus in Central, you were overwhelmed by everything. You were scared, tired, and had nowhere to go. You had felt so lonely. You ended up falling asleep on a bench just outside the station. That is where Amber had found you. She felt sorry for you and took you to get some food. Once she had heard your story, though, she brought you back to her loft to help you. She had said she was in your position once, but never explained what she had gone through, and wanted to help turn you around. She had got you into therapy, got you to open up, helped you find a job in her department at Mercy, and found the woman you were sure you had been on track to be before the accident had set you back.

You hit the lobby button on the elevator, then reached in your work bag for your phone as the door shut. You felt your umbrella, wallet, extra shirt, and even your lunch, but not the phone. You prayed that you didn’t leave your phone in the apartment in your sleep deprived haze. It wouldn’t be the first time this week that it had happened. Your anti-anxiety medicine had finally run out, even after you spaced them out over the last few weeks. And your mind had refused to shut off and you had been plagued by nightmares all night. Finally, your fingers had brushed against the plastic case of your phone. You let out a sigh of relief. However, when you pulled it out of your bag, you wished you hadn’t. It had been the phone that Daniel had given you, and the one that Amber had been trying to get you to throw away for months. You remembered having a panic attack when she had taken it from you. It had been one of the only things you could call yours. She had returned it to you after messing with the setting. Amber didn’t want to take any chances of him tracking the phone, not that you thought he could think of that, and told you not to respond to him. He had sent a few messages in the first few days; he said he was sorry and how much he loved you, but you did as Amber had asked. There was a small part of you that wanted to reach out, in secret. Thankfully, the logical part of your brain kept you silent. Amber wanted to block his number for good, but you left it as it was. She had given you a new phone not long after so you wouldn’t be tempted. And you hadn’t turned the old phone on since then. It had been stuffed in a bottom drawer, only reappearing now when you had rushed to grab an extra thick undershirt and stuffed it into the bag without realizing it.

The elevator came to a halt and opened to the empty lobby. You knew there wasn’t much time to decide what to do. You needed a phone- a curse of modern society to not be able to go a day without it. If you decided to go back up to retrieve your real phone, you still had to find it from where it had fallen in the chaos of this morning. And by then, you would miss your bus and be late to work. Technically, this was a working phone. You hit the power button; if it turned on, you would just get on with your day. That was your decision. It sprung to life, still with a good amount of power despite how long it had been in that drawer. The home screen had a picture of you and Daniel. It made you cringe at the sight of those smiling faces. But it worked and that would have to work. Amber may not be too happy to see it, but you’d rather deal with her then your supervisor. Plus, you really had no desire to talk or see Daniel.

Though, that small, needy part in the back of your mind was still wondering if he had still reached out to contact you.

You got your answer as you stepped out onto the chilly, lamp lit sidewalk. Your inbox was full of text messages and voicemails. He must have sent two or three a day since you had run away. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear his voice. But, as you head down the sidewalk to your bus stop, you decided to read through a few of them.

-Y/N, I’m sorry. Please call me.

-I know you’re mad. You have every right to. I’m weak and dumb.

-Please, just let me know you’re ok.

-Honey, I love you. I’ll never drink again.  I never meant to hurt you.

-Please let me know you see these.

-You mean so much to me. I’ll do better. I need you.

-Honey, that girl meant nothing. I can’t live with what I did to you.

-Please call me. Yell at me, hit me. Do anything you want, just come back.

His last message came only two days ago.

-Honey, you must be out of your medicine. Please, just let me give that to you. I won’t bother you anymore. We don’t need to get back together. Whatever you want to do, we can do it. Just let me bring it to you. You need it and I care about you. Please, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please, let’s just talk.

               Wow, you thought, he seems really upset. That small part surged forward again, pushing you to respond since he seemed so sincere. But you shook your head. Amber had brought you to a counseling center she volunteered at where a survivors of domestic violence group met. And based on what they had talked about, and his history, you knew it was best to move on. Though, you were basically out of medicine. You didn’t know the name of it, nor had the prescription for it. Daniel had always taken care of it. There was a doctor at Mercy whom you were close with, Henry Na, who had offered to investigate it for you. So, you had given him the last generic, round, white pill. He had offered to prescribe you a basic anxiety medication to help you while he did some research. He had been a big help, just like Amber to getting you to the state of normalcy you had achieved. Hopefully, he had found something for you. You would wait to see what he had to say before making that decision. Or you could talk to Amber and she would slam the stamp of “HELL NO” on that whole thought.

               Not wanting to continue this train of thought, you sent a quick text to your friend to say you were on your way to the bus, then locked your phone and stuck it in the pocket of your scrubs. You were determined to make the most out of this day. Even after a terrible night, you were going to be with your best friend, seeing some of your favorite patients, and being away from your troubles. You just needed to get to the bus stop and out of the chill of the early morning. You pulled your jacket close to your body and quickened your pace. Living at the far end of town, while cheap, had its disadvantages. There was much gang activity in the outskirts, the bus stops were sparse, and all the main shops were a long way away. At least, for the moment. Ahead, you could see the outline of the new shopping center the government had decided to build in hopes to revitalize this part of the city. And while you were excited that you wouldn’t have to go far to get essentials, you hoped it wouldn’t raise your rent anymore. Your bus stop was just beyond the construction. You hoped that today would prove to be just as exciting as the prospects of the new shopping center.

               Little did you know, in the dim light of the dawn, just how exciting your life was about to become.

~*****************~

               If the outside wasn’t foreboding enough, the inside made up for it. It was dark with only a few work lights scattered around the large, open space. There were tall, arching pillars and small openings along the sides that were meant for food stalls, and a large, empty fountain in the center of the concrete floor. Loose wires hung from the unfinished light fixtures, while high scaffoldings and boxed materials were randomly spaced about. A cold breeze swept through the open doorways, sending dust and debris swirling about Bangtan’s feet as they took echoing steps towards the elevator at the end of the floor. Above them, there were large cut outs in the floor so patrons would peer down at those below, all in interesting and modern designs. Once it was finished, it would be very fancy and high-end, the complete juxtaposition to the traditional and family owned buildings around it. It didn’t belong there.

               Just like we don’t belong here, Suga thought as his eyes wondered about the dim area. Jimin was beside him, the sparse lights glittering off the studded shoulders of his leather bomber jacket. His face was sharp and serious, his eyes constantly moving behind his rose-colored glasses. And Jungkook was trailing behind, dragging the poorly trained spy with him. The bound and blindfolded kid had fought against the maknae’s grip as soon as they entered the construction zone, screaming unintelligently against the gag. It took a good smack on the back of the head and a threat of “knock it off before I knock you out” before he stilled and allowed Jungkook to lead him around. He, even, made an annoyed promise that he would not let him stumble or fall until they turned him over to his team.

               V’s voice rang through the earpiece Suga wore, telling him where to go. The elevator would take them to the top floor, opening to a reception area. And beyond that was the event hall where Choi and his group of assholes were waiting for them. V didn’t see anyone on any other floors, which meant that their passage should be safe. Just as a normal drop should be. But Suga knew that it wasn’t going to be normal. With each step, the uneasy feeling grew. With the confirmation of the General’s presence, old feelings from the past made Suga even more on edge. But he hid it from his younger members. He figured this was a trap; he and RM had talked every conclusion out. They just needed to get in and out as fast as possible. V had set some helpful distractions up if they needed a quick getaway. But all Suga was focused on was dealing with Choi and keeping his dongsaengs safe. He took out his cell and texted a quick update to the leader.

               “This place is huge! I didn’t realize it when V and I came here before. Let’s make sure we come back when it’s finished. Something this fancy looking is bound to have a Gucci store,” Jimin said, trying to ease the mood a bit. He brushed a bit of dust from his white Gucci shirt to highlight his point.

               “I feel between the two of you, you have enough Gucci in your closets to open your own store,” Jungkook replied, though he had his own collection of name brands to rival theirs.

               Suga gave little response as they reached the elevator. RM had texted him back, saying what they already knew; Get in, get out, and be safe. The leader had added ‘try not to antagonize him too much, hyung’. Suga had a gift of speech, known to the others as his ‘Tongue Technology’. He could talk circles arounds even the most versed debaters, and knew exactly what to say to break someone down. If he had ever decided to pursue a career in music, all of Bangtan was sure he’d be a master at diss tracks. When Jin had captured the spy, Suga barely warmed up before the kid broke from fear. And while he knew he should do as his leader asked, Yoongi knew that if Choi opened his mouth, he’d find it extremely hard not to challenge him. As all four crowded into the elevator, he slipped his phone back into the pocket of his red coat and hit the top floor button. Jimin had started cracking his fingers and stretching out his limbs just in case he needed to be ready. Jungkook seemed to be bouncing on his heels with anticipation. A black face mask was resting under his chin. Suga reached over and pulled it up over the young maknae’s nose. He reached up, after, and fixed his black hat to hide most of his face. Jungkook was the only one of their members who Choi hadn’t seen face to face, making him the safest when he walked around barefaced. The boy had been quite young when he had joined them, and each meeting before the Generals had disappeared, Jungkook’s identity had been hidden. And Suga meant to keep it that way. Jungkook smiled at the action and nodded a ‘thanks’ to his hyung.

               “Just stay behind us until the trade is made. Block the door. And keep your face hidden. We don’t need Choi knowing who you are, got it?”

               Jungkook nodded again, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

               The elevator came to a halt as it reached the seventh floor and the doors slid open. It opened to a finished reception hall with an ornate, marble desk at the end near the large, double doors. Compared to the rest of the building, this was practically finished. The floor had a mirror finish, there was a small chandelier above the desk, and the walls were painted with a dark contrast to the white marbled floors. As they stepped off the elevator, a strange crackle sounded through the piece in Suga’s ear. With each step, it got louder. He could see the small red light from the CC camera that V had placed under the edge of the desk. He knew V had been monitoring them, as well as the Royals, and he tapped the earpiece to signal V something was off. He could hear the young man under the roar of the static typing away at his keyboard, letting out a few curses. The roar got louder and louder the closer they got to the doors.

               “Hyung-…. Sug-…. Can you…” static “Wait they…. With them! Plea-…” static “Get-,” then a piercing noise overtook everything, and Suga ripped the earpiece from his ear. From what little he heard from V, and the tone he was using, whatever he was trying to say wasn’t good. Jimin and Jungkook looked at him, questioningly. It was clear that something wrong was just beyond those doors. But they were already too far to turn around. The Royals must have heard the elevator’s chime and their footsteps as they came up to the door. If they fled now, it would only be worse later. Suga gave a reassuring nod to his dongsaengs and turned towards the door. Jimin took his position beside him, a hand on his hip to give off the air of sass that his gang persona was known for. Jungkook pulled the spy close to him as he positioned himself behind them, eyes glowing with strength and determination.

               And then, Suga kicked the double doors wide open.

               The solid oak doors slammed against the inner walls of the large room with a big bang. Just as the lobby, it was practically finished, save for the large crates of fancy décor, some unfinished lights, some high work platforms, and a good polishing. The floor was the same marble and dark finished wall combination as the lobby, with large Roman pillars that gave the room a grand and expensive feel. There were high windows that lined one side of the room, showcasing a large section of downtown as it was bathed in the warm light of the dawn. Further into the space, two high metal scaffoldings had been constructed, high enough for someone to walk under and for painters to reach the vaulted ceiling in order to finish the commissioned watercolor piece; one was just beyond the double doors while the other was against the opposite wall at the far end of the room near the emergency exit. In the center of the room, surrounded by work lights, appeared to be a diamond shaped dance floor. There was a worktable there.

               And sitting at the table was Choi. He stood out against the sea of black suited goons with his silver fur coat. Choi always had an air of intensity about him, especially when he caught you in a stare down. He was like a cobra; smooth, unpredictable, and ready to strike without warning. When Suga had first met the General, he had overseen the breaking in of the new “recruits”. And the look he gave was enough to warn the kids to beware his wrath. Choi leaned forward on his elbows; his tented, gloved fingers pressed against his lips. His crazed eyes tracked Bangtan as they sauntered into the room, stopping just before the first scaffolding so to keep some distance between the two rivals. The one holding his spy stopped behind the other two. He tsked in disappointment.

               “Nice of you boys to show up,” he greeted in his deep, gravel voice. “I appreciate that you agreed to come to our location. Times have been tough for my troops, and this makes them feel more at ease.”

               “Safe it, Choi,” Suga said, his tone even but methodical, “I don’t need you to put on this little act of yours. You’re not doing this for your guys. At least own up to the fact that you don’t want to follow the Accords.”

               Choi made an amused noise. “Ah, Agust, I have missed that lip of yours.”

               Out of the corner of Jimin’s eyes, he watched as Suga slid into Agust, a second persona Yoongi had developed in the early years before Bangtan. Suga was cold and intimidating, methodical and quiet. Agust was the opposite. He was more aggressive, ready to set the world ablaze; where Suga was the bulletproof vest, Agust was the machine gun and ready to pop off at whoever provoked him. While Suga liked to take his time, his second persona didn’t want to. The shift was subtle, but Jimin had seen the wicked smile appear across his lips as he cocked his head to the side, spilling his platinum blond hair across his eyes. Agust seemed to vibrate with mischievous energy. Jimin hadn’t seen this side of his hyung in an exceptionally long time; only people from Bangtan’s past knew of Agust or he hadn’t been pushed that far to bring out the wildcard. However, he knew Choi had a way of bringing the worst out in them. This would be interesting.

               “Oh, I missed you too, Choi. But don’t worry, my aim is much better now. Can we just do this shit? I have better things to do and you are not one of them.”

               The amused look on Choi’s face slipped. “Such disrespect for your sunbaenim. This is why I requested your leader. He seems to have taken my lessons better than you.”

               “Sorry,” Agust pouted, bringing up his hands in a mocked apology, “but my leader has better things to do than play with a flea infested bitch like you. Wait, that was an insult to dogs.”

               Jungkook was happy he had a mask on to hide his grin; he always enjoyed when Yoongi-hyung fell into Agust; it didn’t happen much these days unless he was extremely angry or overly stressed. So, this was a treat to see Agust tearing into Choi like he knew his hyung had always wanted to do when he was younger.

               Agust continued, his eyes glowing with annoyance. “Seriously, can we move this along? We have your little spy here, all safe and sound. We even fed him, which is more than you could do. Let’s do this exchange before I get more annoyed. It’s past my Maknae’s bedtime and he’s gonna be cranky later.”

               Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh at that point. That drew Choi’s attention. A gleam appeared in Choi’s eyes that, even from that distance, Jimin didn’t like.

               “Now I wasn’t expecting to see you, Sweet One. It’s been a while since we last met. How have you been doing? Had your fix recently?”

               Jimin only glared behind his glasses, his hands clenched in a fist. He took a deep breath and tried to block him out.

               Choi stood up and moved to the front of the table. “What, nothing to say? I missed that voice of yours. So sweet and addictive. You know, sometimes I can still hear your sweet moans and gasps echoing through my memories. Begging and pleading, so needy and desperate. Makes me wish I had taken a chance with you when I had the opportunity. I can see you’re shaking from here. I have what you need, baby. I can help you feel all better. You just need to come over and ask for it. I can take good care of that itch of yours. I’d love to hear how loud your moans can get now.”

               Jimin felt something in him snap. He went to rush him, fist cocked back, ready to shut the bastard up. Suga threw out an arm in front of him before he could take a step. The look he gave Jimin told him to let him handle Choi. RM had asked Suga not to cause too much trouble. And since Agust had already made an appearance, he couldn’t risk Jimin starting something. Even if Choi deserved whatever Jimin had planned to do for bringing up such a dark part of their past. Suga’s reassuring hand gave Jimin a slight push behind him, which the younger man begrudgingly allowed.

               “Seems like you’ve become the responsible one, Agust. Perhaps you’ve gone soft on me, despite the bite. Fine, we should get down to business. But first thing is first; lets make sure that you followed the rules I sent to your leader. No weapons were to be brought with you. Chen, Yao,” he called over his shoulder, “search them.”

               The two suits stepped away from the pack and crossed over to Bangtan. Suga nodded to Jimin, who made his way to stand next to Jungkook in order to keep the spy between them as they were searched. The guards started with Jungkook, then Jimin. They searched Suga last. Both guards ran their hands through clothes, dipping into each pocket. So, of course, they found the small pocketknife Yoongi had slipped into the inner pocket of his red coat. Chen fixed the smaller male with a look, which was received with a nonchalant shrug. Chen was not amused by the gesture and grabbed him by his blond hair, yanking his head back. Agust grabbed hold of Chen’s wrist, twisting it as hard as he could before spitting in the thug’s face. Yao rose his fist to punch him, only to be stopped by Jimin, who had appeared next to him. Agust was intimidating on his own, but the look that Jimin transfixed on them was enough to send a message. Both suits backed away from the two before things got any worse.

               “Agust,” Choi remarked as his guards returned to their space, “how disappointing. Do you see, boys? They have no respect for us. They bring a weapon to a tradeoff. And when scolded for breaking the rules, he acts like a wild animal. They don’t even have the decency to dress professionally. Instead of business attire, we are presented with ripped jeans, flashy and cheap clothes-,”

               “Hey, I wore designer labels to this,” Jimin interrupted.

               “And the one in the back,” Choi continued, “look at how they teach their Maknae. Black cargo pants, hoodie, and wearing a mask and hat. Like he’s going to a club instead of meeting with his betters. Take that off and let me get a better look at you, boy! The least you can do is give me a proper greeting.”

               “Leave my Maknae alone.” Agust took a few steps forward, stepping into the primary focus. “He’s protecting himself from all the bullshit you keep spitting. You don’t need to see him for us to do this. Stop stalling. Where’s your goods? We took good care of your little rat. Now put up or shut up.”

               “You keep demonstrating how low you can be, Agust. Do you think you’ll become as successful as us acting like a classless thug?”

               Agust shrugged, tapping his long finger against his cheek. “I’m not sure about the secret to success. But I think I know the secret to failure and being an idiot. And that is to keep babbling like you. I’m really starting to lose my patients with you. Show me the fucking trade, else I’m leaving with your spy and I’ll do whatever I want to with him.”

               Choi nodded to one of his suits. They pulled out a suitcase and opened it. It was full of cash and ammunition boxes. “Satisfied with that, Agust? It’s way more than his life is worth. But recruitment has been slow recently. However, before we trade, I need an apology.”  

               “For what, your appearance? You need to take that up with your parents,” Agust sneered, causing Jimin and Jungkook to start chuckle.

               Choi slammed the case shut. “I’m over your bad attitude! You have disrespected me enough today. You show me respect, or I will demonstrate how I used to deal with you.” Choi reached around and brandished his ornate cane, smacking it against his hand. “You remember what I used to do to you. Now, apologize to me!”

               “Alright, I’m sorry. Don’t get angry. Your mom will be upset if you lose your only asset- your health,” Agust mocked with a small bow, causing Jimin and Jungkook to laugh. The shocked expression from some of the suits added fuel to the fire.

               Choi’s face took on a red shade. “Enough,” he screamed, his voice shattering against the empty walls, “You may appear brave and bold, but I know what you hide behind that smile, son!”

               Agust took another step forward, unafraid by his little outburst. “If I’m the sun,” he said, pointing out the windows at the rising light, “then you are the moon; as I rise, you go down. Though, I’m sure I’m going to be more disappointed in your tongue technology than your cohorts are with mine.” The roar of laughter from behind him only increased and sent Choi further into a rage. He lunged at Agust and swung his cane.

               Suga’s hands were almost as fast as his tongue; he grabbed hold of the cane before it could strike him. He pulled his face close to the General’s, his eyes cold and serious.

               “I am not that scared little boy you locked in the dark. I will show you that I’m the king here. I’m the boss. And you will end up just like your vile, worthless Maknae.”

               “You’ve gotten strong in my absence,” the taller man remarked as he tried to pull away from Suga’s grip. The younger held tight for a second before giving him a hard shove back towards his team. Choi took a grounding breath and ran a gloved hand through his frosted hair. “Remember Agust, our Maknae acted on his own. Against his boss’s plan. And you got your revenge on him for that. He damned himself, not his hyungs.  Don’t keep using that to fuel your hate.”

               “I have plenty without that.” Suga turned and walked back to his team. “I’m done playing with you. Slide that case over here. We’ll leave your man here as we exit out the door. And we will call this done.”

               Choi shot a dark glare at the blond’s back, before waving a dismissive hand at him, accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything he wanted from the younger man. He gave a nod to the suit holding the case, who slid the case across the floor. Jimin stopped it with his foot before picking it up. He thought it felt lighter than he expected it to, but the want to leave outweighed his curiosity; he was still pissed about what Choi had said to him. He turned his back to the room and made after Yoongi.

               Suddenly, Choi’s soft laughter filled the room. Yoongi remembered that laughter; the General had used it when he knew something they did not. Bangtan’s Second in command looked over his shoulder to see that Choi had a small remote in his hand. With a press, the double doors swung shut automatically. Panic rose within Bangtan. They were trapped! Jimin opened the case in his hands and discovered it was full of fake bills and empty ammunition boxes. Everything was a set up. Choi must have figured that they would have a surveillance too, and made it so he couldn’t communicate with V once they got to the meeting spot. Yoongi hoped that he hadn’t thought about a camera hidden within the room. Since V had been trying to tell him something before their communication was severed, he must have eyes in the room, at least enough to know he needed to get to them fast. Jungkook tightened his hold upon the spy, as if it was their only protection. He shot Suga a look. The elder shifted his eyes between both of his comrades, deep, stormy eyes narrowed in defensive thought. He had thought of this; he had many plans unraveling in his mind. Now, it was all a matter of finding the best one in order to get them out of there. The only unknown factor was Choi. Suga motioned for the two to keep calm as he turned back to the General.

               “Honestly, Agust, did you really believe it would be that simple? That I would let you come in, disrespect me and my troops, and walk out of here like you’re the one in charge? After all that you and your little boy scout brigade has done. I was hoping to send a little message when I scratched up that smiling fool of yours. And yet, your leader couldn’t grasp that and sent you right into my hands. It should had been obvious that you weren’t going to get out without a struggle. There is no Hallowed ground here. You are in my territory with a member of mine that, for what anyone would see, you have kidnapped. Therefore, I can have my fun without any fear from the Accords and their rules.”

               Jimin growled, “Since when do you care about the Accords? You already drew us here under false pretenses.”

               “They’re not entirely false. As I said, you have my recruit,” Choi remarked, his voice in a mocked tone of concern. “He was given such an easy task. And he couldn’t even do that correctly. It would see that some more training is in order.”

               Jungkook felt the kid in his grasp cringe and bury himself deeper into his hold. It was painfully clear that the kid had no choice in this life, much like most of members in the room. And from the stories he had heard from his hyungs, Jungkook was sure this kid had been treated much better in their care than anything in the Royals clutches. It wasn’t up to the Maknae, but he wondered if it was too late to try and take the kid with them.

               “As you know,” Choi continued, “recruitment has been difficult on me. And all the rookies have little to no talent when it comes to the finer arts of the trade. They would benefit from some more one on one training. How do you think we can achieve this?”

               “Well, when Ji just up and leaves like the coward he is and leaves his most useless General in charge, seems like a daunting task for you. Might as well just give up and disband,” Suga said in his methodical tone, causing Choi and the Suits to actively flinch at the mention of their leader’s real name said so offhandedly.

               “Don’t you dare say his name! I will make you regret that. And you’ll be the example for my new recruits. Like I said, my boys don’t do well with their basic training back at the compound. They need some ‘on the job’ training, some action in the field. And what better place then here. Since we are not on Hallowed Ground, we can let them play a little rough. What a splendid opportunity for all of us; they get to have a real experience and you get a few broken bones to send a message to anyone who thinks that they are above the Royals in the food chain. Do me a favor, Bangtan, and don’t give up to fast.”

               With that last smirk, Choi settled himself back against the table and snapped his fingers. Four of the Suits smirked and started to cross the room towards Bangtan. Jimin looked over at Suga. The steely member gave a sharp nod and Jimin pushed some of his honey locks out of his hair with a dark glint in his eyes. He heard Suga tell the youngest to ‘stay put’ as he set off at the advancing Suits. Out of Bangtan, Jimin was known as one of their best fighters. He had studied many different styles and always perfected his craft; from judo and taekwondo to kendo and target shooting, he was regarded amongst most gangs in Central as the most skilled. Jimin was, also, a well-versed dancer, having studied since he was a child. And that control and flexibility of his body only aided him when he decided to show off just why he was well known. As he was still seething with anger from Choi’s words, he decided to take out that frustration on whoever came near him. Jimin took off like a bullet and launched himself up to grab a high bar on the bottom side of the scaffolding. Using his momentum, he swung himself up towards the closest Suit, catching the young man off guard as Jimin wrapped his toned legs around the taller man’s neck. Before the Suit could recover from the surprise, Jimin let go of the bar and arched back into a backbend. Using his lower body strength, he pulled the victim over and down the ground with a loud thud. The shock knocked the air from the Suit and Jimin sent a sharp punch to the throat, to keep him down.

               A yell from another Suit brought Jimin’s eyes up. He got up and tackled the second. The new opponent was sturdier on his feet than the first, easily keeping himself upright and throwing Jimin back. Jimin recovered quickly; he ran to one of the supportive, vertical legs of the scaffolding, grasping hold and using it to spin himself back to the Suit, his heels colliding with the goon’s chest. The Suit stumbled back, chest heaving. Jimin didn’t give him much chance to recover; he was instantly back in his range, throwing punches and sweeping kicks towards the taller man. Being as flexible as he was, Jimin had no issues dodging and sliding under the Suit’s attempt at a comeback. While the bastard was strong and aggressive, he lacked speed and foresight. And Jimin had much of that. They had been backed further along the scaffolding towards it’s beginning, moving rhythmically around the bars and legs. The Suit had managed to grab Jimin by the collar of his studded jacket as he tried to get behind him and threw him face first into the ladder that lead to the top of the scaffolding. He clung to bar for a moment, feeling his lip start to bleed and his head ringing from the sudden impact. He could hear the asshole let out a laugh before charging at him. Just as the Suit was able to connect his jab to the back of Jimin’s head, the smaller blond side stepped him, and let the Suit’s hand make a cracking impact with the metal bars. Jimin got behind him and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The other man thrashed against his grip, but his windpipe was being crushed. The Suit slipped onto his knees as his vision started to dot. And Jimin took the opportunity to release the Suit’s throat and use his knee to hit him in the nose. Blood spattered over the dark denim as the Suit screamed in pain. He was silenced when Jimin elbowed him in the back of the head. After the man fell unconscious, Jimin ran his hands through his hair and adjusted the rose-colored glasses that had managed to stay on his face.    

               While Suga wasn’t as graceful as Jimin when it came to fighting, he was able to hold his own with the rest of them. He was scrappier, more calculative in his actions. The remaining two Suits had come at him at the same time. And just like Jimin, he used his height to his advantage, easily dodging under the sweeping arms of the two. The closest Suit had backed Suga up against one of the Roman pillars with his advancing punches, his back flushed against the cold stone. The bastard set an upper cut, which Suga caught and turned back upon its owner. He looked over the goon’s shoulder to see the second had a picked up a crowbar. Oh, fantastic.  The second Suit raised the bar and brought it down in a hard motion, only to hit his own comrade when Suga grabbed the first one and used him as a shield. The goon swung again and Yoongi moved behind the pillar just as it made contact, sending dust flying into the air. When he came back around, he caught hold of the bar with both hands and struggled to push back against the brute’s strength. The first one had recovered from the hit and caught him from behind, locking his arms around the thin gang member’s body. Suga threw his head back and knocked against the Suit but his grip only tightened. He struggled hard as the second guy advanced on him again. Thinking fast, he brought his legs up and kicked the second Suit hard in the chest, sending him to the ground. He thrashed harder against the taller man behind him. He was swung around until Suga saw the white pillar in front of him. He ran up high enough on the pillar and kicked back with all his strength, sending him and the Suit to the marble floor. The arms around his chest loosened enough to slip one out of the hold and use a reverse elbow strike to the goon’s face, hard enough to send him to the very edge of consciousness. Suga scrambled up to his feet as the second Suit barreled at him; he moved just enough to grab ahold of the Suit’s jacket and propel him into the pillar. Suga grabbed hold of the Suit’s shaved head and slammed it as hard as he could into the pillar as many times as it took until the guy slumped down, blood decorating the white stone. Taking a deep breath, he turned back towards the General, smirked before giving the Suit at his feet a good kick to the stomach.

               “That all you got, you son of a bitch?” Agust was out of breath, but still had enough snark in his voice to fill the room. “You couldn’t teach them how to fight their way out of a paper bag. I didn’t even need to bring out my tank over there,” he pointed at Jungkook, who smiled behind his mask and gave a little wave. “What were they supposed to do again? Teach me a lesson? Make me into the example to what happens when your fragile self-worth is questioned. If that’s how you teach your boys to fight, you should change your profession because your ability to make yourself look like an idiot is extraordinary. Your title should be ‘Moron Extraordinaire’ instead of ‘Washed-up Mafia Kingpin’. What you want to throw at me, now? Clearly, we can take you. And when I get out of here, you can guarantee that it’s going to be open season on you. I don’t care if your punk ass leader decides to show his fucking face. I’ll gladly spit in it and let him know how this little ‘bapsae’ took his place.”

               Choi looked down at the Suits, most of whom were still unconscious at Bangtan’s feet. His eyes flicked up to meet Suga’s cold stare. He gave a deep sigh and shrugged the fur coat from his shoulders.

               “Oh Agust, I really do wish one of my men had the foresight to break your jaw. That way I wouldn’t have to hear you anymore. I’m growing tired of this game. I would have hoped you would’ve gone down easier. It would have boosted the moral of the boys instead of their medical bill. Guess we are going to have to do this the old fashion way.”

               Choi reached behind his suit jacket and brandished a chrome revolver. Behind him, the rest of his guys pulled out theirs and pointed them at Bangtan. Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to get bigger as he took in the site before him. Jimin looked concerned as well, but tried to keep it internalized so not to feed their egos; his eyes were darting across the room, looking for places to shield himself should shoots be fired. Suga refused to break eye contact with Choi. The older General gave at laugh at the fronted courage. He cocked the gun and raised it eye level.

               “I have wanted to do this for a long time. When I was away, I had dreams of shooting you right between those cold eyes and wiping that fucking smile off that face. I remember when my brothers and I brought you under our wing; we had high hopes for you if we could break you. But you are just as stubborn as the rest of your ragtag crew. I hope your efforts were worth it in your mind.”

               Choi’s finger moved towards the trigger. And Suga didn’t move, just stared him down. Before Choi could pull it, a loud gun shot rang out in the space! And a bullet hit Choi’s weapon and sent it ricocheting across the marble floor. Choi spun around, looking for the source of the shot. Suga let out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. Jimin rushed to his side, eyes searching for an explanation, as if Yoongi had some how done something. But the second-in-command was just as shocked; his eyes darted about the room, just as the Royals were making a commotion looking for the phantom gun.

               A deep chuckle filled the space, bouncing off the shadowed walls that made it seem like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Stop going on about ‘effort’ and more ‘effort’,” the deep voice commanded. “It’s makes my skin crawl when you say things like that.”

               Drawn by the voice, Suga finally caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket and red pants perched atop the second scaffolding behind the Royals on the opposite wall. V was squatted on top of the platforms, gazing down upon the scene like a gargoyle, one elbow resting against his knee. The other arm was stretched out with his emerald green gun held tight in his grasp. Suga was half impressed that V had hit his intended target; the other half was annoyed he had taken that chance.

               “About time you decided to show your face,” Suga remarked. “What, did you take the scenic route?”

               “Sorry Suga-hyung,” V responded, his voice like black velvet. “They scrambled my signal so I couldn’t contact you. Not even on your phone. And, of course, I had the guys at the cars to deal with. By the way,” he moved his steely eyes to Choi, “your henchmen weren’t a fan of my ‘Vante’ mark on your tacky car. So I left them giftwrapped in the trunk. They didn’t play nice so they’re a bit bruised. Hope that’s ok.”

               V brought his hand up to flash his signature ‘V’ sign and winked at Choi. The General just stared back at him, his gaze disbelieving and furious. Then, he turned to his Suits.

               “Unbelievable,” he said, the hand V had shot the gun out of balling into a shaky fist, “the empire I helped create is being spit upon. And its members are just letting this bunch of misfits walk all over them. This isn’t even all of them! You are supposed to be the most feared, strong, aggressive men of the Mafia families. But you let a pretty boy, a shadow, a whore, and a foul-mouthed baepsae fuck you over time and time again?! I should just shoot you all myself for being so useless! Do you know what’s going to happen if you continue to let the Royal’s name drag in the filth of these fuckers?! I will make sure every single one of you begs for death before I’m finished! Is that what you want? Or are you going to do something about it?!”

               “Whoa, watch that temper, Big Boss,” V said, while smacking on a piece of gum. “Your face is turning a bright shade of red. It’s clashing with your suit. Not a good look for someone of your age.”

               Choi had had enough; he gave a sharp order to Chen who whipped out his revolver from a hidden hoister. He raised it at rapid speed and took aim at V. But while Chen was fast, someone was faster. A loud shot sounded from behind them, and the bullet cut across the captain’s arm. His arm spasmed at the contact and dropped his gun before he could even move to the trigger. Choi whirled around, eyes wild and enraged. Behind Suga and Jimin, both of whom were wearing a smug smile, was the shadow who Choi had dismissed, still holding their hostage in front of him. Jungkook had his arm balanced against the hostage’s shoulder, with his metallic purple handgun on full display. Even with his face hidden behind a mask, all could tell he had a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

               Choi grabbed his captain by the arms, uncaring of the bleeding wound his hands covered. “I told you to search them for weapons! Can you not do one thing I ask?!

               “I did, Boss! I swear,” Chen cried as Choi fingers dug further into his gunshot wound.

               It was Suga’s turn to let out a bemused noise, letting his head loll to one side. His hands came to rest on his hips, and he clicked his tongue in a disappointed fashion. “Oh Choi, you think you’re the smartest person in the room. You think you’re the only one with secrets. See, we’re not as naïve as you like to believe. We have the genius leader after all. We planned for every eventuality you could think of. You’re not as slick as you boost yourself up to be. But we played our part well to make you believe that, didn’t we? Since your boys lack the brains to think of creative methods beyond your orders, I’ll let you in on my little secret. Your boys did search us – they didn’t check your little rat.”

               As quick as he brandished his own piece, Jungkook pulled Jimin’s and Suga’s weapon from under the rat’s oversized sweatshirt and tossed it to them. Jimin’s was a polished gold, while Suga’s was a studded black gun. Both caught their respective piece as if they had rehearsed the moment. Now, they had four barrels pointed at the Royals. Bangtan was outgunned, but they were widely known for their accuracy and body count. That reputation alone was enough to worry the newer Suits. Suga’s cold stare drilled into the General as he held is gun steady.

               “Even after all your shit, Choi, I’ll let you decide how we do this; either let us walk out like nothing happened or we start shooting. You’re already down a few men,” Suga said, motioning to the four men still on the ground from their earlier rumble, either still unconscious or too scared to sit up. “Do you really want to risk losing more? After all this, I can’t guarantee that we won’t hit anything vital like with Chen there. So what’s it gonna be, Jackass?”

               Choi stared at the younger man; his face was blank and unreadable. Suga wondered if he was going to have to repeat himself, or if they could use that silence to back away before anything happened. But then, a crazed look appeared in the General’s eyes and a wicked smirk cracked his face. He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders before taking a step back behind his Suits.

               Then, he snapped his fingers.

               The Royals opened fire with an onslaught of bullets. Bangtan scattered behind whatever cover was closest. Jungkook pulled his hostage behind a large crate and shoved him to the ground, ordering the kid to  ‘stay down and don’t move if you want to live to see adulthood’; he had protected the kid so far, he wasn’t gonna let him get shot for a stupid reason. The poor kid was too scared to do anything but shake and do as he was ordered. Jungkook leaned around the box and fired a few shots to try and cover for V. The gray-haired boy was running across the scaffolding, yelling out ‘one shot- two shots’ as he fired down into the Suits. He vaulted from edge of the platform and scampered behind one of the pillars where Jimin had shielded himself with. The smaller Bangtan member was an impressive shot and was managing to keep the Suits from advancing upon him. Suga was across from them, behind another pillar. From his position, it was difficult to get a clear shot at anyone and he was pinned down behind it. There was a crate a few feet from him that would give him a better vantage point to lay out the Royals. It would be a bonus if he would break down the human shield Choi had surrounded himself with, and stain that blue suit of his. Running away from the pillar into the sea of smoke and ammunition, he rapid-fired at the Suits, hearing at least one of the Suits call that he had been hit. Jimin and V were moving to a new cover, alternating cover shots over each other’s shoulders. Suga knew they needed to get out of there; no matter how good of a shot they were, they would run of bullets before the Royals would. He needed a plan, and fast. He looked behind him at the door Choi had rigged; there was a red light from the mechanical device that had shot and locked the door. The lobby had some decorative things that they could use to bar the door once he could destroy the mechanism. There were the emergency stairs just behind the Royals that they could use if they could keep their distance. Or both to split up the group.

               Behind him, Jungkook had slid a new round of ammunition into his gun that V had slid to him. He had moved from the very back of the room closer to the rest of his team. One of the Suits came running at him from along the side of the room. He easily showed him why they referred to him as Bangtan’s tank; he blocked the Suit’s punch before pistol whipping him, sending two strong jabs at his gut, and a final uppercut that sent the suit falling backward and his gun flying from his hand. Jungkook easily caught it in his empty hand and sent double the shots at the rest of the Royals. He ducked behind another set of boxes and looked to Suga.

               Three more Suits had been hit and were scrambling for cover. Those still shooting had changed weapons and released a new spray of bullets that pinned Bangtan where they were. Choi stood in the middle of it, almost as if he were a statue, with a confident grin still on his lips. He gave an order for the Suits to advance. Suga knew they needed to get out now. He rose up and fired, hitting two Suits and bringing them down. He gave a signal to Jungkook to come to him. The Maknae rushed over, both guns firing and keeping the Royals ducking for cover. Suga looked over his shoulder at the other two and called out. He gave a pointed look to the door and V followed his gaze. They had all worked together long enough to not need much to understand what the other needed to say. V looked back and nodded, knowing Suga meant for them to leave that way on his signal. Jungkook laid down some cover as the blond turned from the battle and fired four shots at the mechanism, destroying it. He turned back to see Choi look stunned at his actions, before ordering his men on.

               Suga grabbed Jungkook and leaned close. “Get to the back stairs. I’ll cover you and be right behind you.” He looked behind and called out to Jimin and V, “Get to the car! If we’re not there, just drive. We’ll meet up at the safe zone!”

               V and Jimin nodded and took off towards the double doors, Jimin kicking them wide open before V turned and slammed them shut behind them. Choi yelled out for a few men to follow them. Three of the men who had lost in their hand-to-hand battle with Bangtan, jumped up from their positions on the floor and ran towards the closed doors. They pushed against it but it was wedged closed. The blond smiled, knowing V had thought of the same things he had about securing the door to help give them time to get away. It held just long enough for the two to escape the lobby. Suga gave Jungkook a shove and the young man took off around the outskirts of the room towards the emergency door in the back of the room. Shots continued to whiz by him as he ducked and weaved between pillars and boxes, having a few close calls as he neared the back end of the room. Suga trailed behind him, pausing at each cover to fire back at the Royals. He managed to bring down two more of the Royals before he ran out of bullets. Jungkook finished the clip in the stolen gun and threw it, hard, at an advancing Suit, nailing him in the side of the head. Chen, still bleeding from his arm but determined to win favor from Choi again, had seen where Jungkook and Suga were heading and stood in front of the door. Jungkook ran at the captain and got locked in a hand-to-hand fight. Chen was one of the few present to offer a challenge to the Maknae, even injured. Chen grabbed one of Jungkook’s fists, as he went in for a cross jab, and twisted the young man’s arm behind him. Jungkook twisted, trying to get his arm free, but Chen held tight. So, he shoved them both backwards until the captain’s back slammed against the wall, throwing his head back to crack against the taller man. Chen let go, and the two were back to exchanging punches, jabs, and dodges.

               Suga was almost to Jungkook when, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Choi moving towards one of his new recruits, one who was a terrible shot. The General snatched his gun from the Suit’s hand and rose it. And it was aimed at Jungkook in a fatal angle. The Maknae was trapped with Chen and couldn’t see what Choi had planned. Suga cursed and ran. Everything happened too fast.

               Jungkook had landed a sharp punch to Chen’s face, causing the captain to stumble back stunned.

               Choi fired the weapon with a clear target.

               Jungkook noticed Choi, as Suga shoved him out of the way.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I really enjoy your erudite and literary posts about James Bond in your blog very much. Your most recent post about Connery as best cinematic Bond and Dalton as the best literary Bond was brilliant. Although the PC brigade have been inching towards making Bond a woman or even non-white, Ian Fleming’s legacy of a suave but cold hearted English gentleman spy hasn’t been completely trashed. As someone familiar with Fleming literary lore can you also tell me where was James Bond educated? Was it Oxford or Cambridge? I was having a discussion over Zoom with friends and the Oxonians like myself thought it was Oxford because in Casino Royale with Daniel Craig it’s made very plain it was Oxford. Your thoughts?

I appreciate your kind words about my posts on James Bond and his creator Ian Fleming. It’s very hard to ignore the cinematic James Bond because he is very much an icon of our modern culture that needs no translation to transcend across cultures. Alongside Sherlock Holmes, another British literary and cinematic export, the name alone speak for itself.

James Bond appeals to both genders very well.

For the men, Bond dresses well and lives in a care free way. He is both ferociously intelligent and resourceful to get out of any tight corner. He drives incredible cars (from the incredibly stylish Aston Martin DB5 to the incredibly awful AMC Hornet) and uses awesome technology (he is the archetypal boy with toys). He's not afraid to get down in the dirt to fight or engage in lethal gun-play and spectacular car chases. He sleeps with beautiful women, regardless how strong and independent they are (or even lesbian if we’re being honest about Pussy Galore).

For us ladies, while he's not averse to action, he's also a cultured gentleman with suave and sophisticated manners. He's also a generally pretty good looking guy. In many ways, he's a conventional male ideal. So while his conventional good looks and manners aren't for everyone, they hit right the sweet spot of what women like. For everyone, he's a spy! Not at a grey real world nondescript spy, but a cool spy fighting larger than life bad guys whose bland sartorial choices scream mad super villain. It's a very black and white world that James Bond lives in. These bad guys truly are villainous in the desire to re-order humanity, and we need a debonair British MI6 agent to save us from these mad men who want to harm us by laying waste to a bonkers Armageddon.

When all is said and done I think that what makes James Bond so iconic across gender and generations is what Raymond Chandler wrote back in 1959, “every man wants to be James Bond and every woman wants to be with him”.

That sounds about right. Men want to be him, women want to be with him.

I know my first introduction to James Bond was through my grandfather on my  Anglo-Scots father’s side who was a dashing gentleman in his day with a long rumoured hush hush work for Her Majesty’s government firmly shoved under the carpet to avoid further discussion that he - being self-effacing and humble - would find embarrassing that would paint him in any heroic light. Years later he had bought his Bahamas beach pile in Harbour Island out in the Caribbean for the family to rest up from cold winters in Britain. Amongst his immense stack of books dotted around the place were (and still are) first editions of Flemings novels which a few were signed by the author as he on occasion met Ian Fleming when he would sail over to Jamaica (they were also OEs which helped). We were not allowed to touch these but instead picked up the dog earred paperbacks that still retained their 60s musty smell.

On my teen sojourns there I would spend time along with my siblings just reading anything we could find to take to the beach or lounge around in a hammock or a chaise longue. That’s how I came to read the Fleming books - really out of necessity to avoid boredom on a beach (which isn’t really my thing as I prefer the rugged outdoors). But I was pleasantly surprised how well written the books were and I actually enjoyed the stories; it was a refreshing change from the more heavy literary tomes I was trying hard to wade through. As for the Bond films, I watched them on film nights at boarding school; I remember having a school girl crush on Connery, Dalton, and Brosnan.

There are many reasons for the successful longevity of James Bond in popular culture and literature but perhaps one of the most pertinent to our discussion is that James Bond is actually a blank slate and therefore malleable as a character and so he can capture the current zeitgeist in time.

This ability of the film to adapt to different generations while remaining relevant is an important factor for its longevity. For example, the early James Bond films were unashamedly sexist with characters using women as objects and discarding them. In the most recent James Bond films, certainly starting with Timothy Dalton, there is a subtle change in attitude with a few chauvinist attitudes.

James Bond today is more serious, seduces fewer women, and is more respectful towards women in his life, including his boss. This shows how the film changes concerning the rise of feminism in the West. For example, Miss Moneypenny used to be a minor character in the very first James Bond films. Today, she is more formidable and doesn’t tolerate sexist remarks.

Perhaps it is precisely because of this blank slate malleability that has allowed different actors that have been cast to play James Bond their own way - rather than get a straight like for like Scottish sounding actor to replacing Connery for example the film producers went across to Moore via Lazenby for example  - and letting each actor imbue the super spy with different moods. They each added their own colour from the same broad palate to create different tones. However, each of these characters maintained the essential character that defines James Bond. The actors have broadly stayed true to the inherent mix of character and class associated with James Bond.

For this reason I have some empathy towards your concern that Bond would be held hostage to the current zeitgeist of white washing or genderising everything so as to avoid being a victim of cancel culture. But it’s only empathy because I feel there is a danger of misunderstanding just who James Bond is and what he represents.

What do I mean by this?

I mentioned James Bond is a malleable character to the point he’s presented as a blank slate. This is ‘literally’ true - certainly as far as the books go. Ian Fleming doesn’t tell us much about Bond other than his appearance in his books. Indeed - as I mentioned in my past blog post on Connery as the best Bond - Fleming wasn’t convinced by Connery as Bond. He was reported to have said, ‘I’m looking for Commander Bond and not an overgrown stuntman’ and even dismissed Connery as “that fucking truck driver”. Fleming has good reason to rage. His Bond as written in the books was someone like him.

Like Fleming, Bond was an Eton educated Englishman; an officer and a (rogue) gentleman who was a lieutenant-commander in Naval Intelligence. As Connery began to wow and win over Fleming as Bond, Fleming had a change of heart. Fleming in his later Bond books re-wrote a half-Scottish ancestry for Bond as a tribute to Connery’s portrayal. Bond’s Scottish father was a Royal Navy captain and later an arms dealer, Andrew Bond from Glencoe; and his mother, Monique Delacroix, was Swiss from an industrial family. Bond himself was born in Zurich. Bond isn’t English at all but half-Scots and half-Swiss according to literary canon.

So I mention this because the question who can play James Bond is not as straight forward as it might seem.

But clearly we now have a canon of work, both cinematically and in the literature, where we have base line of who Bond is - or what audiences could possibly suspend their disbelief and go with what is presented to them as James Bond.

I do vaguely remember the hullabaloo and hand wringing around Daniel Craig playing Bond because he didn’t conform to the traditional tall, dark, and handsome trope of James Bond super suave spy. People couldn’t get past his blond hair. Some still can’t. But in my humble opinion he has been an outstanding James Bond and has reimagined Bond in a fresh and exciting way. Craig is in fact mining the Fleming books for his characterisation of Bond as a suave, gritty, humourless killer of the books. Dalton got there before him but that’s a moot point. To our current generation Craig has modernised Bond and dusted 007 down from being a relic of the Cold War to being a relevant 21st Century super spy.

Can anyone play James Bond OO7? Yes and no. It’s arguing that two different things are one and the same. They are not. James Bond is separate from OO7.  

Can a woman play Jane Bond or a black woman or non-white man play Black Bond? Respectfully, no. That’s not who James Bond is.

James Bond is a flesh and blood character with a specific genealogical history - whether in the books or on the screen. This Bond has literary back story that is canon and makes him who he is. Bond does transcend time - he can’t be 38 years old for over 75 years in the real world - but at the same time his character only makes sense when rooted in a specific historic context we know existed (and still exists) and not some wishy washy make believe fantasy of British society. He’s an Old Etonian and therefore an upper middle class male product of the British establishment that is identifiable in a very British cultural context.

Jane Bond would have to have gone to Cheltenham Ladies College, Benneden, or Roedean I suppose if we are talking about equivalence - but such girls’ boarding schools were not the breeding ground for future spies (more likely they married them or became trusted secretaries in the intelligence services as well as flower arranging in their Anglican parish church).

I believe they are letting in black pupils on bursaries at Eton these days to be more inclusive but again it’s an an exception not the rule and Eton doesn’t even get public credit for the inclusive work they try to do because it’s not well known.

Moreover we know Bond loses his Scottish-Swiss parents in a skiing accident. I don’t mean to sound racist but I ski a lot in Switzerland and I can say you don’t really find droves of non-white skiers on the slopes of Verbier or Zermatt. Of course there are a few but it’s the exception and not the norm. Again, I’m not trying to be racist but just point out some obvious things when it pertains to the credibility of character that underlines who Bond is. You pull one thread out of the literary biography and the danger is the rest of the tapestry will unravel.

Of course one could try and go for a Black Bond on screen and then hope there is a huge suspension of belief on the part of the audience. But I suspect it’s a bridge too far. It just doesn’t fit. Audiences around the world have an image of who Bond is - British at the very least but also male (damaged and flawed in many ways) and coming from a specific British social class background that serves as an entree to a closed world of English gentleman clubs, Savile Row, English sports cars, and the hushed corridors of Whitehall.

Any woke film maker with an ounce of creative vision and talent and one who is invested in this would be better off creating a new character entirely - with their own specific biography that is both believable and relatable. Can you imagine an American James Bond? What a ghastly thought. Or worse a Canadian one? Canadians are far too nice and far too apologetic to produce a cruel cold eyed killer. But look what clever film makers like Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones and even later Doug Liman did with Jason Bourne - both fantastic creations that are part of the cultural zeitgeist now.

Or look at Charlize Theron who plays a MI6/CIA/KGB triple agent in Atomic Blonde or Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa Faust in any of the Mission Impossible movies. I would eagerly watch any movies with these two badass women on the screen. All this talk about making Bond a woman or even coloured is just lazy thinking at best and at worst kow towing to the populist tides of PC brigade.

But I firmly believe one can have a female and a person of colour portraying 007. This is because James Bond and OO7 are two different things entirely. Many mistakenly believe 007 is Bond’s own code name and specific alias to him alone.  

007 is a license to kill for a very specialised kind of intelligence officer. Bond has that privilege for as long as he serves at the service of Her Majesty’s pleasure. His 007 license can be revoked - and it has been in the past Bond films - and he’s back to being a just another desk jockey civil servant in Whitehall. So my point is OO7 is not sacred to Bond’s identity. Bond could continue to be Bond even if M took away his 007 license to kill.

The origins of the Double O title may date to Fleming's wartime service in Naval Intelligence. According to World War Two historian Damien Lewis in his book Churchill's Secret Warriors, agents of the Special Operations Executive (SOE) were given a “0” prefix when they became "zero-rated" upon completion of training in how to kill. As part of his role as assistant to the head of naval intelligence, Rear Admiral John Godfrey (himself the inspiration for M), Fleming acted as liaison to the SOE.

In the novel Moonraker it’s established that the section routinely has three agents concurrently; the film series, beginning with Thunderball, establishes the number of OO agents at a minimum of 9. Fleming himself only mentions five OO agents in all. According to Moonraker, James Bond is the most senior of three OO agents; the two others were OO8 and OO11. The three men share an office and a secretary named Loelia Ponsonby. Later novels feature two more OO agents; OO9 is mentioned in Thunderball and OO6 is mentioned in On Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Other authors have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents. While they presumably have been sent on dangerous missions as Bond has, little has been revealed about most of them. Several have been named, both by Fleming and other authors, along with passing references to their service records, which suggest that agents are largely recruited (as Bond was) from the British military's special forces.

Interestingly, In the novel You Only Live Twice, Bond was transferred into another branch and given the number 7777, suggesting there was no active agent 007 in that time; he is later reinstated as 007 in the novel The Man with the Golden Gun. As an aside, in Fleming's Moonraker, OO agents face mandatory retirement at 45 years old. However Sebastian Faulks's Devil May Care (an authorised Bond adventure from the Fleming estate and therefore arguably could be considered canon) features M giving Bond a choice of when to retire - which explains why Roger Moore (God bless) went past his sell by date.

In the films the OO section is a discrete area of MI6, whose agents report directly to M, and tend to be sent on special assignments and troubleshooting missions, often involving rogue agents (from Britain or other countries) or situations where an "ordinary" intelligence operation uncovers or reveals terrorist or criminal activity too sensitive to be dealt with using ordinary procedural or legal measures, and where the aforementioned discretionary "licence to kill" is deemed necessary or useful in rectifying the situation.

The World is Not Enough introduces a special insignia for the 00 Section. Bond's fellow OO agents appear receiving briefings in Thunderball and The World Is Not Enough. The latter film shows a woman in one of the 00 chairs. In Thunderball, there are nine chairs for the OO agents; Moneypenny says every 00 agent in Europe has been recalled, not every OO agent in the world. Behind the scenes photos of the film reveal that one of the agents in the chairs is female as well. As with the books, other writers have elaborated and expanded upon the OO agents in the films and in other media.

In GoldenEye, 006 is an alias for Alec Trevelyan; as of 2019, Trevelyan is the only OO agent other than Bond to play a major role in an EON Productions film, with all other appearances either being brief or dialogue references only.

In Casino Royale with Daniel Craig’s first outing as Bond, we see in the introduction the tense exchange between Bond and Dryden, a section chief whom Bond has been sent to kill for selling secrets.  

James Bond: M really doesn't mind you earning a little money on the side, Dryden. She'd just prefer it if it wasn't selling secrets. Dryden: If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man Bond. If M was so sure I was bent...she'd have sent a Double-O. Benefits of being Section Chief...I would know of anyone being promoted to Double-O status, wouldn't I? Your file shows no kills...and it takes - James Bond: - two. (flashback of Bond fighting Dryden's contact in a bathroom.)

The OO is just a coveted position and nothing to do with who occupies it. Ito use a topical comparative example it’s like a football team in which a new star player would be given an ex-player’s shirt number e.g. Messi wears Number 10 for Argentina which is heavily identified with the late great Maradona. So conceivably there would be no problem having a woman or anyone else play 007. I think it would be an interesting creative choice to have a woman or someone else play OO7 and Bond is out of the service and yet he has to work together with this new OO7 - the creative tension would be a refreshing twist on the canon. 

Your question about James Bond’s Oxford or Cambridge education is more easier to answer.

It really depends again which Bond one is talking about. The literary James Bond or the cinematic Bond.

In the Fleming books, James Bond’s didn’t go to Oxford or Cambridge or any of the other great universities of Britain. In the books Bond’s education is not gone into much detail. We know he was raised overseas until he was orphaned at the age of 11 when his parents died in a mountaineering accident near Chamonix in the Alps. He is home schooled for a time by an aunt, Charmain Bond, in the English village of Pett Bottom before being packed off to boarding school at Eton around 12 years old. Bond doesn’t stay long as he gets expelled for playing around with a maid. He is then sent to his father’s boarding school in Scotland, Fettes College.

Bond is then briefly attends the University of Geneva - as Ian Fleming did - before being taught to ski in Kitzbühel. In 1941 Bond joins a branch of what was to become the Ministry of Defence and becomes a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, ending the war as a commander. Bond applies to M for a position within the "Secret Service", part of the HM Civil Service, and rises to the rank of principal officer. And that’s it.

In the cinematic Bond universe things get more complicated and even contentious as you alluded to in your question. It’s never made quite clear which of the two - Oxford or Cambridge - Bond attended because it depends on how much weight you attach to the lines being spoken in each of the films where it is raised.

In Tomorrow Never Dies, Bond is up at Oxford (New College to be exact since his Aston Martin DB5 was parked in the courtyard at the entrance). He is seen bedding a sexy Danish professor, Inga Bergstrom, to brush up on his Danish (to which Moneypenny on the phone retorts ‘You always were a cunning linguist’). But it’s definitely doesn’t mean Bond studied there as an undergraduate. 

Casino Royale is the film many think yes, James Bond went to Oxford because it is mentioned by Vesper Lynd (Eva Green) as she sizes up Daniel Craig’s Bond on the train. Here is the full quote as said by Vesper Lynd, “All right... by the cut of your suit, you went to Oxford or wherever. Naturally you think human beings dress like that. But you wear it with such disdain, my guess is you didn't come from money, and your school friends never let you forget it. Which means you were at that school by the grace of someone else's charity - hence that chip on your shoulder. And since your first thought about me ran to "orphan," that's what I'd say you are.”

The thing to note is that it’s Vesper Lynd taunting Bond and even then she takes a wide stab by saying ‘Oxford or wherever’ because she doesn’t really know and Bond doesn’t oblige her with an answer.

That whole scene struck me as strange because she’s guessing by the cut of the suit it must be Oxford (or Cambridge). Bond is wearing an Italian suit (Brioni to be specific) and not and English Savile Row one that presumably someone of Bond’s taste and background would be sporting.

A more plausible answer if we are going by the cinematic Bond universe is Cambridge. Indeed it is stated explicitly by Bond himself. Can you guess?

You Only Live Twice which is has the distinction of being the only Bond film (as far as I can tell) from being set in just one country - Japan.

You remember the scene. Lieutenant commander James Bond has just had a briefing with M on board a submarine and is naturally flirting with Moneypenny on his way out. Moneypenny playfully tosses him a Japanese phrase book, saying he might need it.

“You forget,” Bond responds with an expression just short of a smirk as he tosses it back to her, “I took a first in oriental languages at Cambridge.”

So it seems James Bond is a Cambridge man.

A first means - as any British university student would know - first class honours. It’s the highest classification grade one can get in their undergraduate degree ie a ‘first’. Although at Cambridge, like Oxford, you can also get a double first in the part I and part II of the Tripos. Both universities also award first-class honours with distinction, informally known as a ‘Starred First’ (Cambridge) or a ‘Congratulatory First’ (Oxford).

Another oddity is he says ‘oriental languages’ when one got a degree in ‘oriental studies’ at the Oriental Faculty at Cambridge. That is until 2007 when Cambridge bowed to public and student pressure and chose to drop its Oriental Faculty label and instead adopted the name the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies. Oxford still hangs on to its name the Faculty of Oriental Studies.

My only reservation about crowing over an Oxonian is how truthful was Bond being with Moneypenny in this scene?

Is this line meant to be taken seriously or ironically? Most people seem to take it seriously, despite much of Connery's dialogue being obviously ironic and playful. Certainly, Bond is shown to have never been to Japan before and is incapable of saying anything in Japanese other than the odd "sayonara" and "arigato." But then again Bond does know the correct temperature sake is meant to be served at. So there’s that.

Or it could be Bond was speaking a half-truth. I know speaking from experience as someone who very nearly read asian languages instead of my eventual choice of Classics that ‘Oriental languages’ at the ex-Oriental faculty in Cambridge can mean many other languages e.g. Sanskrit, Hindi, Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic as well as Korean, Japanese and Chinese. It opens up so many other delicious possibilities for Bond. If he read Arabic then perhaps he’s being deeply ironic with Moneypenny (after all she would have drooled over read his MI6 personnel file).

If you think I’m losing my mind then ponder on the fact it was Roald Dahl who penned the screenplay of You Only Live Twice. Dahl was not above snark. Indeed pretty sure he would have got a starred first in snark at any university.

Of course the most obvious explanation is that it’s plot armour as a way for Bond to just get on with the story by suspending the audience belief. Why wouldn’t Bond know Japanese? He seems to know everything else imaginable.

However if it ever was it’s now become canon as EON - the production company behind the Bond films - have stated officially for the fandom that Bond’s official bio has it that he went to Eton and Cambridge, where he got a first in oriental languages. So that seems settled then.

In hindsight it makes perfect sense that Bond went to Cambridge since historically Cambridge has provided the bulk of the spies not just for Her Majesty’s service but also for the other side, the Russians - the so-called Cambridge Spies of Philby, Maclean, Burgess, Blunt, and Cairncross, and a host of other traitors. We seem to be an equal opportunities employment service.

I’m sorry to disappoint you and other Oxonians that despite what you might think James Bond didn’t attend Oxford. Believe me as a Cantabrigian it gives me no pleasure to say this…..too much.

Thanks for your question.

[iguessilovebakugou]

Beautiful  ||  {Dabi/F!Reader}  ---  Heathers: The Musical --  Cause I’m a stupid fuck who can’t control themselves

Me:  *Doesn’t post anything for 2 years*

Also Me when Dabi is on screen at any point ever:   👁👄👁

I’m also throwing this out there because like...I highly doubt anyone still looks at my blog, so I can hide my fucking shame that I’ve been thinking of this idea on and off for almost 2 years now. 

Now...spoilers under the cut because I have to explain some things...

I know they just recently announced that Dabi “died” when he was a kid.  So I will have to specify that I’m aging him up to be 17, since that would just...make sense?  

  --  --  --  --

“Venti salted caramel coldbrew, extra foam.”

There was a raid against villains that day.  It had been the only thing anyone could talk about.

You had overheard the editors talking about it as they made their coffee.  It was a good thing, right, that they were taking the fight to the bad guys?  That not all hope had been lost?  Most people just wanted an ounce of good news.  Some confirmation that the way of things would hold strong - a nice sugar coat to swallow the hard pill.  Though, it seemed like all any report worth their salt - you included - could discuss was the fall of society, what people were going to do if...or...when, rather, the heroes were yanked from their spot light and cast down in the dirt with the rest of civilization.  

You weren’t a giant fan of them, considering, but you understood the necessity for someone to hold the mantle - someone who guaranteed the safety the mass populous required to keep them from falling to complete anarchy.

Your phone buzzed as a message appeared at the top, blocking the article’s title from view.  Your boss, Fumihiro...again...for the 8th time since you left the office.  

[INCOMING MSG] ::  Where are you right now?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam for...”

Your brows furrowed, your stance shifting from one foot to the other.  

[OUTGOING MSG] ::  Getting the coffee.

[OUTGOING MSG] ::  Why?  Want me to get you something?

Heroes.  The way of things.  Society.  

Most people didn’t seem to care too much about it once their phones locked and it was out of their line of sight.  When the terrible wasn’t in your face, it was easy to forget that everything hung on a tiny thread that was always threatening to snap.  It was hard, you figured, to care about the state of the world when you were more concerned about mundane matters that were pressing in the moment.  The rest of the world seems small when you have everything else to pressure you.  It was easy to forget.

[INCOMING MSG] ::   www.wtxz319.rdio.com/live/93901_error

[INCOMING MSG] ::  u need to watch this

You wished you could forget about it.  Wished that it hadn’t been looming over your head since...well...

Your thumb hovered over the link, the screen went black and a stream started loading.  Some radio podcast?  You read the title:  ENDEVOUR TAKING ON U-A’S BEST AND BRIGHTEST?! UNLIKELY SON AND FATHER DUO?

“Venti salted caramel cold brew, extra foam!!”

Your heart leapt up into your throat as your eyes met the kid behind the counter.  He paused only a moment before using his fingers to nudge your drink closer to edge.

“Oh.  Sor-”

“Have a good one.”  

You locked your phone as you shoved it into your back pocket, grabbed your drink and made a beeline towards the door.  The streets were busy, given the hour. You had just enough time to get back to the office and finish your article on  before the evening - just enough time for an editor to look it over, to do some quick fixes and-

You phone buzzed again, and Fumihiro’s face once again flashed on the screen.  

[INCOMING MSG] ::  Did you see it?

[INCOMING MSG] ::  We need to be the first people on this.  I don’t care about what else you were working on.  This is more important.  

You stopped at the crosswalk, staring at your phone and ignoring the woman who had to move around you with a huff.  But...you were so close to getting to the meat of what the Safety Commission was hiding.  You were so close getting to the heart of it all and, maybe - just maybe - throwing away some of the uncertainty that was hanging over everyone’s head after All Might’s retirement.  

After the weeks you spent staking out police stations, hounding hero agencies, digging through dumpsters for any shred of proof the Pros and Police were hiding something - the favors you had to call in for breadcrumbs and scraps alone?!  And just like that, he wanted you to drop it all?  For what?  Some stupid radio show speculation?

You didn’t hesitate to hit the phone icon in the upper corner, stomping towards the intersection.

“Hey-”  You cut Fumi before he could even finish your name.

“What do you mean ‘drop the article’?  Do you know-”

“I don’t care!  This is bigger!!”

“What’s bigger than-”

“Did you even watch the link I sent you?  Every station across Japan is getting hacked and it’s been playing on loop for a few minutes now on a few stations.  It’s slowly moving to others now.”

“Fumi what the hell are you talking about!?”

 “I, TOUYA TODOROKI, WAS BORN THE ELDEST SON OF ENDEVOUR.”

It...was hard to think for a moment.  Like a memory, reaching up from the dirt to grab you, to finally take you down to hell.  

That voice.

It felt like he was right in your ear, in your head.  It had been so long since he had done it to you, since he...no...not him.  He was dead.  His father confirmed it.  You confirmed it.  You knew he was gone and there was no bringing him back and - 

“I’VE KILLED OVER 30 INNOCENT PEOPLE UNTIL NOW.”

No.  No, no no no no it wasn’t in your head - because if it had been, the sound of blood pounding in your ears wouldn’t be able to mask it so well.  You froze, your hands shaking as your breath caught in your throat.  It couldn’t be him.  I couldn’t, it couldn’t...

“You need to get back to the office - I want you on this.  I already have a copy of it in case you can’t screen capture it -”

“I WOULD LIKE TO LET EVERYONE KNOW WHY I’D END UP COMMITING SUCH A HIDEOUS ACT.”

Because you’re a fucking monster.

Someone next to you stopped and looked up.  Then another and then another. You knew what they were looking at.  Who they were looking at.  And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up.  You couldn’t do it - not again.  Not now.  Not after so many years of him being dead and buried where he deserved to be.

But he always had a hold on you.  Something that drew you to him.  And so...you looked up.

And as your phone and drink clattered to your feet, you felt the world stop.

“...Touya?”

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

September 1st, 20xx

Dear Diary - I believe I’m a good person.  You know?  Like, I believe there’s good in everyone.  But um...here we are!  First day of our Senior Year and I look around at the kids I’ve known for so long and I can’t help but think to myself - what happened?

You hadn’t really wanted to be friends with the Nori’s.  Not really.  They were stuck up snobs who made everyone below them miserable.  But there was a power to them that everyone respected.  You had been taught that knowledge held power.  And the Nori’s had power because everyone knew if you double crossed them, your life would be a living fucking hell.

“Ah, Nori and Nori.”

You grimaced into your knees as Nori Ueda vomited for a third time since you had been hiding out in the bathroom.  The teacher paused before sighing. “And Nori.  Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell?  You’re late for class.”

“Nori’s sick!  We’re helping her.”

You had given the low price of just sitting at their lunch table - once, no talking would be necessary - in the hopes people would leave you alone.  It was a simple fact of life:  Where there are teenagers, there are winners and there are losers.  And you had spent the majority of your High School career on the low end of the totem pole.  You were so low, in fact, it seemed talking to you was all but taboo.  Anything other than bullying, shoving into lockers, or calling out unfortunate break outs was strictly forbidden by anyone not wanting to suffer the same fate. 

But the Nori’s?  Solid Teflon: never bothered.  Never harassed like you had been.  They had a mystique, a pull, a confidence that couldn’t be matched.  And you would have killed to be like them.  

Perhaps that why you reached into backpack and yanked out the pad of hall pass papers.  

You opened the stall door and slipped out, making your wave over to the group.  Nori Ueda wiped her mouth.  Nori Makino was leaning against the bathroom counter, focusing on making sure her bright red lipstick was perfectly placed.  And Nori Kaneko?  She was staring down the teacher, hands on her hips, completely equal and completely ready to start a fight.  

The teacher laughed, so sure and so pleased that she had been the one to stumble upon the trio in the bathroom.   “Not without a hall pass, you’re not.  A week’s detention.”

“Uh...ma’am.”  Your voice trembled out and reverberated off the tiled wall.  It had been louder than you originally intended.  Everyone turned quickly to you, only for their attention to be immediately drawn to your outstretched hand you held.  “All of us are out on a hall pass...yearbook committee.” 

She snatched it from you.  For a moment, she simply glanced back between you, the paper, then the Nori’s, then back.  After a heavy moment, she nodded.  “It looks like you’re all listed.”

Nori Kaneko took it from the teacher, looking it over herself.  You tried not to make eye contact as she looked at you.  You instead focused on the teacher as she made her way towards the bathroom door.  “Hurry up and get where you’re going.”

You heaved a sigh of relief.

“This is an excellent forgery.  Who are you?”

You stuttered your name, shrinking under her sharp gaze.  “I uh...I crave a boon.”

“What boon?”  You weren’t sure if she was simply aggravated you had dared do more than answer the questions she asked or if the annoyance was just a constant manner of speaking for her.

You could forge anything thanks to your quirk - Copy.  All you had to do was see someone or something once or twice, focus on it as best as you could and like that, you could be that person.  From their mannerisms, their voice, to their penmanship.  Its why you stole the pad of hall passes, to skip class whenever you wanted, to have an excuse to be hiding out in the bathroom.  

It had worked...sometimes...

You stuttered out your name.  You could see the two Nori’s snicker in the background.  They had no clue who you were.  It was...somewhat insulting.  Their “friends” had done their best to make your life a living hell and yet you had flown under their radar.  

Your eyes darted between the three of them.  Nori Kaneko stared down at you, foot tapping and arms crossed as she took you in.  You couldn’t help but feel like a prey animal, stuck in the line of sight of the Apex Predator.

But your mama didn’t raise no quitter.  You swallowed and stood up just a bit straighter.  “Let me sit with you at lunch, once.  No talking necessary.  If...I mean, if people think you guys tolerate me, they might leave me alone.”

The laughter was instantaneous.  Kaneko looked back to the other two, her laugh light and condescending.  The audacity, it said.  The gall of you to ask to sit with them, of all people.  “Before you answer, I also do permission slips, report cards, and absent notes.”

“What about prescriptions?”

“Shut up, Nori.”

“Sorry, Nori.”  Ueda immediately slunk back to the shadows, gaze downcast.

Kaneka stepped forward and you thought for a moment she was going to shove you onto the floor.  You braced your feet, mentally preparing yourself for the force of her push...but it never came.  She was in front of you for a moment, and then the next, she was at your side.  She hummed under her breath and you could feel her eyes trail over your body.  Your school uniform a size too big, the bulky cardigan you had worn over it, the scuffed shoes and year old skirt.  Your hair was a mess, your face was bare, and you could hear the sound of your knees knocking together in fear.

“For a greasy little nobody,”  She started, reaching out a smooth hand and brushing some of your hair back and out of your eyes.  “You do have good bone structure.”

Nori Makino perked up, coming over to take a look at you.  She took your face in your hand, causing you to tense and try to pull away.  For a girl bordering 90 pounds soaking wet, her grip was rather strong.  “And a symmetrical face.”  

“A...huh?” 

“If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I would have matching halves.”  She looked back at you, nodding.  “That’s very important.”

“Of course,” Ueda added, glaring at you from over Kaneka’s shoulder.  “You could stand to lose a few pounds.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to gain some sense of control over the conversation - but like everything, Kaneko had the power.  She gripped your shoulders and turned you towards the mirror.  You tensed, feeling her arm wrapped around your shoulders.  You watched as she tilted her head this way and that before...smirking.  “You know...this might be beautiful.  Mascara, maybe some lip gloss and we might have something.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding once she moved away.  “I’ll need some blush, Nori, get your brush.”

You were frozen, watching as each item was brought out and laid on the bathroom counter.  A new jacket, skirt, perfume, a pallet of...color?  You gripped your bag, trying to figure out what on earth was going on.

“Take that thing off - it smells.”

The...thing?  You saw the Nori’s staring at you, waiting for you to comply.  You glanced down at your cardigan, pausing only a moment to sniff the sleeve.  It...wait, did it smell?  Would they lie to you?  You fumbled with the buttons, sliding it off your shoulders.  Makino snatched it out of your hands and before you knew it, it was tossed in the garbage.  

“Now, let’s make her beautiful.”

In that moment, you understood what was happening.  As Kaneko stepped forward, the smirk on her face, she watched you.  This...was an invitation.  Into their group.  Into the inner sanctum of popularity and the safety it brought.  No more bullies, no more humiliation, no more terror.  

“Okay?”

“Okay!”

They don’t tell you that being popular is more hell than it’s worth.   

You wouldn’t say you and the Nori’s were...friends.  It felt more professional than anything else.  You had a strict uniform you had to stick to - above what the school required.  Any accessory had to be approved by the trio. All meals had to be approved by Ueda - needless to say, the packed lunches your mother made every morning every morning included with a handwritten note never seemed to make the cut.  The make up you did every morning never was good enough.

They had high standards, more inline with a sort of...job than actual friendship.  In fact, over the past few weeks, it had been hard to tell if the three Nori’s were even friends to begin with.  There was definitely a power struggle between Kaneko - the obvious leader - and Ueda - who tried to exert her dominance every chance she could but was shot down by Kaneko.  Moniko was harder to figure out, more happy to follow than to lead.  She was...nicer than the other two, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was simply because she didn’t want the drama or if she just...simply didn’t understand that what she said held weight beyond being...noises in the air.

Dear Diary - It just seems like our job is being...popular and shit.

“There you are!”

When Kaneko wasn’t around Ueda was hardly as docile.  It was hard to tell she had thorns at all when she was standing next to the Cactus that was the head Nori.  But any chance she got, she made sure to inform you in less subtle ways that you weren’t welcome among the three of them.  

Which was obvious.  Your name wasn’t Nori.

You jumped as Ueda’s hand slammed your book shut on your fingers.  “Nori wants you in the caf - now.”  

Moniko hardly offered you a glance as you flexed the pain from your joints.  “Is that so?  What for?”

Ueda snorted, “I don’t know.  She just said to get your ass there...now.”

You normally punched out for lunch.  You sighed, pushing yourself away from your desk and standing up.  “How very.”  

If the two Nori’s heard your remark, they didn’t say anything.  Nor did they relay it to Nori Kaneko when the three of you had reached the cafe.

The Nori table was the nicest table in the entire cafeteria.  With the perfect white table cloths, centered exactly in the middle of the room, other kids from the “popular groups” would migrate around it like a port.  They would stay for the entire period or would flit about from table to table.  And at it’s head, sat Nori Kaneko.  She sat with her legs crossed, talking to another student who’s name you couldn’t quite place.  You always thought you had been good with names.  Turns out, you just didn’t know many people.

“Ah, you’re finally here.  Took you long enough.”

When Kaneko had offered the make over and...”admission” into the popular crowd, you had thought maybe you pegged her wrong.  Maybe she was just a normal kid, wrapped up in the politics of High School.  It didn’t take long for you to realize she was still the same mythic bitch you had thought she had been - you just did things for her now. 

“I need you to forge a note - in Souta Ishii’s handwriting.”  With a snap of her fingers, the boy she had been talking to reached into his pocket and yanked out a few folded up pieces of paper.  You didn’t need to open them to know what they were.  But when you did, you couldn’t find yourself surprised at the fact Souta was barely passing most of his classes.

“You’ll need something to write on.  Bend over, Nori.”

One day, it would stop shocking you how quickly Ueda would act to Kaneko’s command.  You paused, looking to your superior for a moment.  “Uh...I could just-”

“You’re not sitting with us.”  She answer simply.  

“...right.”  You took the paper and pen offered by Moniko.  You flexed your digits, feeling the flutter under your skin.  “What do you want it to say?”

“‘Hey baby girl, I’ve been watching you and thinking about us in the good old days.  I hope you can come to my party this weekend.  We can talk about us.  Love, Souta.’“  She leaned over, watching your hand glide over the paper in barely legible chicken scratch.  “Put an XO after the ‘Souta’ too.”

It was gone the second the O was done.  She looked over the note again.  “Perfect.”

There was a glint in her eye that didn’t...settle well with you.  With your quirk, you noticed certain...things about people.  Little ticks and tells that everyone has.  Ueda scrunched her nose when she didn’t like something - like everyone.  Moniko would fidget with her hands when she was nervous - like everyone.  And Kaneko would get a little sparkle in her eyes when she was about to ruin someone’s life.  

With each fold of the paper, you stomach dropped closer and closer to your feet.  “What’s that for, anyway?”  

You never really questioned why she did half of what she did.  It wasn’t like you could do anything to stop it.  “You know how Souta used to hang out with Arisu Nomaru?”

Of course you did.  You considered Arisu a friend - a good one.  She was the really only nice person at this school.  Of course, hanging out with the Nori’s meant that quality time with Arisu was...well, all but non existent at that point.  But she assured you, through texts, that everything was fine.  It was exciting!  That maybe, she could join you and the Nori’s for lunch one day.  It wasn’t possible, of course.  You never even bothered to broach the subject to the three.  Arisu was never going to be in the popular crowd and would be stuck watching them from a distance.

The only other constant in Arisu’s life - aside from her kindness and her exile from popularity - was the undying love she had for Souta Ishii.  Ever since...

“We all hung out with Arisu.  In kindergarten.”

Kaneko scoffed, looking up at you from under perfect lashes.  “Well, we didn’t all kiss her on the soccer field.”

You had to fight your body’s desire to snatch the paper out of Nori’s hand.

Monika gagged next to you.  “Oh my god!  I forgot Souta kissed Arisu Nomaru.  It was disgusting!!”

It took everything you had not to hit her.  She met your glare with cool indifference, adding a laugh for good measure.

“Souta!  Just the man I wanted to see!”  

Souta was a...handsome man to say the least.  You didn’t blame Arisu for having the crush she had on him, not by any means.  But what he had in looks, he lacked in anything worthy of personality - aside from just being a huge dick.  And where there was a Souta there was Jun Goto.  His best friend.  He was the smartest one out of his group of friends.

Which amounted as much as being the tallest dwarf, but hey - credit where credit was due.  They were both smart enough to know to come when a Nori called you - no questions asked. And in a flash, the two pulled themselves up and made a beeline for the table - not after giggling to themselves first.

“Be a sweetie and give this note to Arisu Nomaru for me.”  

Dread immediately filled your stomach.  “What? No!”

“What the hell are you talking to Arisu for?”  Jun demanded, reaching for the note.

“Don’t read it!  She was having a heavy flow, and wanted some advice from Gyno.”

“That’s fucking disgusting!” You would have thought the boy had been burned with the way he flicked the paper onto the table, back away and retreat to the table he had come from. 

“Yeah, I’ll take that.”  You snatched the note up, gripping it tightly in your hand.

It had been a while since anyone had stared at you with such venom.  If looks could kill, Kaneko would have you dead to rights.  Her eyes darkened as she glared at you, hands slowly moving to her hips.

But you weren’t going to allow yourself to back down.  Not over this.  This was too much.  “Arisu has had a crush on Souta for 13 years.  This...”  You waved the note.  “This would kill her.”

It was quiet for a moment - and in that moment, you realized you made the biggest mistake of your fucking life.  Nori smiled, stepping forward with a soft chuckle.  “I didn’t realize we had a problem.”

“We’re not but-”

“Are we going to have a problem?”

You faltered for a moment.  

“No, I just-”

“So you have a bone to pick.”

“No, Nori I just think you’re bigger than-”

“You know, when I dragged you out of the dredges of inferiority, I was shocked how far you would go.”

Before you knew it, she had succeeded in pushing you down onto the bench.  Your elbow slammed into the top, causing you to cry out.�� Immediately, all eyes were on you.  “So you wanna tell me, why now, are you pulling on my dick?”

“Nori!  I’m not trying to argue with you!  Just doing this-”

“I know!”  She snatched the note from your hands.  “It will ruin her.  That’s the fucking point.”  She offered the note to Ueda, who happily took it.  You watched helplessly as she skipped back over to Souta.  While he didn’t seem too pleased to be the one to deliver the note, he begrudgingly got up from his spot and headed to the corner of the cafeteria.  

"You still have a lot to learn about how things work around here." You swallowed, digging your nails into the palm of you hand. "This whole school is my own personal candy store. I do what I want, when I want."

You watched as he slammed a fist on the table, causing Arisu to jump.  She froze, stuttered, and then almost dropped the note when he tossed it to her.  Your heart hammered - maybe if you got there fast enough, you could stop her from reading it.  You could distract her and -

You were forced back down in your spot and perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin.  “You got a good thing going here,”  Kaneko stated, very matter of factly.  “You could join the team, or you could bitch and moan.”  You winced when her nails dug deeper into your skin.  “But if you test me one more time, you will end up just. Like. Her."

Ueda grinned, an ugly, spiteful thing. "Welcome to our Candy-"

"Shut up, Nori!" All three of you flinched as your leader stood. Fixing her skirt, she offered you a sweet smile that made your stomach roll. "We'll see you after school."

They left you in that spot for a long time, staring at your hands.  It wasn’t until you felt a tap on your shoulder that you finally looked up.  And there above you was Arisu.  She grinned and offered you the note.  “Look!  Look what Souta wrote me!  He invited me to his party this weekend.”

You stared at the paper, then back up at her.  You tried to smile - though it didn’t look like she noticed.  “This proves he’s been thinking about me!”

She...seemed happy.  And you knew in this school that happiness was hard to come by.  Especially with people like Nori’s.  You opened your mouth, before closing it again.  You stared at that letter, at the handwriting that perfectly matched the papers left on the table.  You could tell her, warn her it was a prank.  Just...break her heart and tell her Souta wanted nothing to do with her.

“...color me stoked!”  You grinned.

You were happy when she left.  With a heavy sigh, you buried your face in your hands and ignored the bell above your head.  You listened to the shuffling of your peers as they made their way towards the doors.

What the hell were you doing?  What the fuck did you just do?  Arisu had always been a good friend to you and you threw her under the bus?  For what?  Popularity?  Safety?  

“You shouldn’t have bowed down to those dogs.  They’ll eat that girl alive.”

You had grown used to most voices, labeling them by people who was more likely to hit you or simply ignore your presence entirely.  

But his voice? You had never heard that voice before.  It was pleasant in it’s own way - low, guttural, and deceptively indifferent to the advice he was giving you.  You sat up, turning to look over your shoulder.  Your eyes trailed up to stark white hair.  Bright blue eyes stared down at you, hands in his pockets.  Your breath caught in your chest and your mind scrambled for a response.  “I’m...I’m sorry, what?”

He watched you for a moment.  Sizing you up.  “Look,” He continued, “You clearly have a soul.  You just need to work a little harder to keep it clean.”  With a final shrug, he turned on his heel and made his way for the door. "We're all marked for evil."

Did...did he just...quote at you?  It took you a moment for your mind to catch up to what he said.  “Okay, don’t just quote Baudelaire at me and walk away.  Excuse me?”

You scrambled to your feet.  He stopped and turned to look at you.  He didn’t move to say anything else however, leaving you in charge of continuing the conversation.  You looked him over, took in his long, lanky form, the mess of white hair, they...very pretty eyes.  You cleared your throat and motioned to him.  “I...uh...I didn’t catch your name.”

He waited a moment before shrugging.  “That’s cause I didn’t throw it.”

You watched him turn back around and make his way towards the door, mouth hanging down to your chest.  It didn’t take long for you to realize how hot your cheeks were burning, how fast your heart was racing. You couldn’t help as your lips broke out into a smile.

You swore he stole another gaze at you him slip out into the hall.

-- 

So yeah.  I’ll edit this later.  Promise.

How did everyone enjoy their holiday season?

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Thor

Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO

My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux

—

If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.

But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.

now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it

“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”

I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).

Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.

…is it, though?

I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.

I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.

Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram: 

This is a goat:

This is Loki:

Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.

This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all. 

Always happy to have cause to point out that

Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.

People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.

Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?

Asgardian exceptionalism FTW

I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂

Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??

This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao

—

—

—

“Looking for answers,” my foot.

YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??

#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y

—

—

What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy 

Just wanna remind everyone that this 

is why he’s smiling during this scene 

because it makes me laugh every time. 😂 

—

My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭

But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.

Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring. 

#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?

Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.

Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂

JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?

Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.

Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂

…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?

On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️

lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger 

Honestly, though, big mood. 

Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway. 

Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.

…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.

Ok, first of all, no.

Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.

Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?

—

Please stop hurting me.

Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather. 

—

…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.

Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.

Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is. 

I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.

This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.

So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?

…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.  

#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol

Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.

But you won’t.

You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒

Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess… 

That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD. 

First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol 

Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol 

Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.

Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.

lmao you little shit

So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.

But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.

For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.

It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.

Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.

I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.

I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️

Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.

I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.

The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:

—

Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.

There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.

The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit. 

There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.

“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.

COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.

No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.

And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.

Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.

Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.

WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol