#the article touched on an interesting subject

[moominvalleysunset]

Jack & Joker episode 10 thoughts on P'Oh's death

I saw a poster who said they were abandoning the show because of their treatment of Trans characters (Their examples: making P'Saran's character Nulek the butt of a joke and killing off P'Jennies character P'Oh quite gruesomely.) And while I completely understand that this is a sensitive topic, especially right now, where Trans rights are being attacked in many if not almost all parts of the world and the result of the US-election does not bode well for a fair and inclusive future (and as you don't know me, let me emphasize: Trans rights are human rights, end of story!), I cannot agree in this instance. Loooong-ass Essay under the cut, be warned!

First of all, Thai culture is a special case as far as gender, gender identity and gender expression goes, both historically and in the progressive movements that are happening both in Thai society and in the entertainment (specifically the BL) industry. You simply cannot judge it solely by Western (or even other Asian) cultural conventions and standards, and by viewing it even more exclusively through an USA-centric perspective you are not doing anyone any favors.

I think that everyone watching Thai BLs regularily at least knows a little about the underlying cultural issues and practices, but for those who would like to learn more, I would recommend reading Dr. Thomas Baudinette's extremely fascinating and well-researched book Boys Love Media in Thailand (https://thomasbaudinette.com/boys-love-media-in-thailand-2022-3/) , where he also touches on the development of presenting trans and genderqueer characters in Thai TV and film (though only up until 2021/22, and the last two years have seen significantly more progress, diversity and inclusivity in Thai media both in front of and just as if not more importantly, behind the camera.) It's a great read, and I'm looking forward to the updated edition coming out next year. Or at least read a Wikipedia article or two about the subject if you haven't already, it's extremely interesting!

Now secondly, I want to take a look at the narrative. First of all, the two trans/genderqueer characters mentioned above are not the only ones in the show. We have Nulek's friend Pharao, Joke's disguise as Jessie (not a girl but a genderqueer person in drag, and emphatically NOT a caricature), Arun as a femme character and not to forget P'Oh's business – and maybe life – partner, a Trans man. Neither of them has been singled out, ridiculed or punished for their not conforming to any hetero- or cisnormative standards in the story (except for Arun by his dad, and nowhere is this presented as anything but reprehensible behaviour by a father). They are normal people struggling with social injustice and mundane problems, like anyone else. Which brings me to the first of the two instances mentioned, Nulek. While I understand that leaving them at a trash heap (I think we all can agree that getting them out of the way was just a plot thing that needed to happen) might raise some hackles, they are not the only one left there. The – very cismale – driver that Joke impersonated was also left at the landfill, so it is maybe not all that symbolic? Especially because Nulek and Arun's other subordinate Pharao get their comeuppance later on when they get their wonderfully petty revenge on their fallen boss. They have gained agency, rightfully enjoy their upper hand and are again not being ridiculed by the narrative.

And now P' Oh, played by the wonderful P'Jennie. I am horribly saddened by her senseless death, angry and frustrated, because it was so preventable and unfair, but her being Trans is not the most important part here IMO. She was trying, she was struggling, she was failing, she was succeeding, she was funny and sassy and beautiful and a smart businesswoman, and she was the only character apart from the mains, Toi Ting and Ama (who were not spared, either), whose death would send a big enough shockwave through the community to finally rattle them into fighting back  (but also leave the mains able to function and not utterly paralyse them in grief). That's why neither Toi Ting's dad nor Tattoo's mom were viable options. P'Oh was respected and liked in her community. Having her die was dark as fuck, but narratively speaking IMO necessary, and she didn't die because she was Trans. She died because she was the only character whose death would have the right amount of repercussions. So I cannot agree with the other poster that killing her was "shitting on Trans women". Really not.

Thirdly, we have to leave the show and look beyond, behind the camera. These people are longtime collaborators and by all accounts great friends and business partners. P'Jennie is a star who has written lakorn and BL history with her roles. There is nothing but love and respect for her from the makers of the show, you can be sure of that. And I would really like to hear her speak about her character and her role here. And Nuleks actor P'Saran and their friend Pharao have been collaborating with War, Yin and their managers since the first En of Love Anthology in 2019/20. YWPBs managers P'Go and P'Aun themselves can be read as femme. YWPBs work environment and the people they choose to collaborate with seem to be progressive, inclusive, diverse and definititely neither cisheteronormative nor tone-deaf to social issues, as we can see in all their works and public presence. Even more so in War and Yin themselves and in what they choose to say, do and stand for publicly. Are they all perfect? No (who is?), but it seems to me that they are trying really hard to do what's right.

So while I of course understand why someone could be triggered, angry and disappointed at what they see as yet another instance of a Trans character being treated unfairly, I would argue that here this anger might be misdirected and this reading neither does justice to the characters, the narrative, the actors and makers of this show nor to the very real issues Trans and genderqueer people still face in Thailand and around the world.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading my essay/rant and I would be extremely interested in what you have to say in return!

[and-i-like-youuu]

Queerness and You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away

I always liked You’ve Got to Hide Hour Love Away but I never really understood it till I understood my own queerness. And I found this article called “Did the Beatles write the first LGBTQIA+ Anthem” and it explores Hide Your Love Away a bit.

The article tries to explain that the song could’ve been a song John wrote for Brian Epstein, it mentions their trip to Spain, and how they may have had a sexual encounter there. But John Lennon himself said that this song was a personal one he wrote based off his own feelings. Two of the quotes I found interesting was when he said that the song, “[is] one of those that you sing a bit sadly to yourself, ‘here I stand head in hand…’ I’d started thinking about my own emotions.” And “instead of projecting myself into a situation, I would try to express what I felt about myself…”

So, I don’t understand why the writer of the article would hypothesize that the song was written about Brian when John very clearly said he based it off his own emotions.

And, finally, there’s this last bit of the article where they try to suggest that the song might’ve been about an affair he had with a woman at the time. Which can make sense based off the lyrics but I think the song is purposefully vague to hide something. The end of the article says, “In truth, it seems unlikely we will ever discover what love Lennon was attempting to hide in plain sight.” However, if we read You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away with a queer lens, I’ve got to say that the person who best fits the bill for the person who holds John’s hidden love is Paul.

Link to the article I was discussing:

[lwieserce]

Omggggg i finished reading those 40 pages i'm actually being SO conscientious rn. It might never repeat again.

[pucksandpower]

Clickbait

Toto Wolff x Ferrari team principal!Reader

Summary: in which a reporter learns not to mess with the power couple of Formula 1 … the hard way

Based on this request

The bustling newsroom of BusinessF1 magazine hums with activity as Graham Lowell, a junior reporter with more ambition than scruples, hunches over his laptop. His fingers fly across the keyboard, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he types out what he believes to be the scoop of the century.

Conflict of Interest in the Pit Lane: Ferrari and Mercedes’ Love Affair

Graham leans back, admiring his handiwork. He’s certain this article will catapult him to journalism stardom. Little does he know, he’s about to learn a harsh lesson in the dangers of sensationalism.

As the article goes live, the Formula 1 world erupts into chaos. Social media platforms light up with speculation and outrage. Within hours, the story spreads like wildfire, reaching the very subjects of its scandalous claims.

In the Ferrari motorhome, you stand before a group of wide-eyed team members, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. “I assure you, these allegations are completely false. Our team’s integrity is not, and will never be, compromised.”

Your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket, but you ignore it. You know who it is, and you know you’ll need to face him soon enough.

Across the paddock, in the sleek confines of the Mercedes garage, Toto Wolff paces like a caged lion. His usually calm demeanor is nowhere to be seen as he barks orders into his phone.

“I want our legal team on this immediately,” he growls. “This is slander, pure and simple. They’ve gone too far this time.”

As the day wears on, the pressure mounts. You find yourself fielding increasingly hostile questions from reporters, their microphones thrust aggressively in your face.

“Is it true that you’ve been passing Ferrari’s secrets to Mercedes?” One shouts.

“How long have you been manipulating race results?” Another demands.

You maintain your composure, but inside, you’re seething. The blatant sexism in their questions is not lost on you. They seem all too eager to believe that a woman in your position must have achieved it through nefarious means.

As you push through the crowd, a familiar voice cuts through the chaos. “That’s enough!” Toto’s commanding tone silences the mob instantly. He strides forward, placing a protective arm around your shoulders.

“My wife and I will be making a statement shortly,” he announces, his steely gaze daring anyone to object. “Until then, I suggest you all refrain from spreading baseless rumors.”

The crowd parts reluctantly, allowing you both to escape to the relative quiet of a nearby hospitality suite. As soon as the door closes behind you, Toto’s fierce expression melts into one of concern.

“Are you alright, liebling?” He asks softly, cupping your face in his hands.

You lean into his touch, allowing yourself a moment of vulnerability. “I’m fine, Toto. Just ... frustrated. They’re so quick to believe the worst of me.”

Toto’s jaw clenches. “It’s disgraceful. But we’ll fight this, together. I promise you, they won’t get away with it.”

A knock at the door interrupts your moment. Toto’s assistant pokes her head in. “Sir, the lawyers are here.”

What follows is a whirlwind of legal jargon and strategy discussions. You listen intently as your shared legal team outlines the plan of attack.

“We’ll issue cease and desist orders to every outlet that’s republished the story,” the head lawyer explains. “And we’ll be filing a defamation lawsuit against BusinessF1 magazine and the reporter responsible.”

Toto nods approvingly. “Good. I want them to feel the full force of our response. This ends now.”

As the lawyers file out, you turn to Toto, a hint of worry in your eyes. “Do you think this will be enough? The damage to my reputation ...”

Toto takes your hands in his, his gaze intense. “We will rebuild it, stronger than ever. I won’t let them tarnish everything you’ve worked for.”

Meanwhile, back at the BusinessF1 office, Graham Lowell is beginning to realize the gravity of his mistake. His editor storms into the bullpen, face red with fury.

“Lowell!” He bellows. “My office, now!”

Graham follows meekly, his earlier bravado evaporating with each step. As he enters the office, he sees his editor isn’t alone. A grim-faced man in an expensive suit stands by the window.

“Sit down,” the editor growls. Graham complies, his legs feeling like jelly.

The man by the window turns, fixing Graham with a steely glare. “Mr. Lowell, I’m representing Mr. and Mrs. Wolff in this matter. I’m here to inform you that you and this publication are being sued for defamation.”

Graham’s mouth goes dry. “But ... but I had a source! They told me-”

“A source you failed to verify,” his editor cuts in. “Did you even attempt to get a comment from either party before publishing?”

Graham’s silence is damning. The lawyer continues, his voice cold and precise. “The damages we’re seeking are substantial. Your reckless journalism has caused significant harm to my clients’ reputations.”

As the full implications of his actions sink in, Graham slumps in his chair. His dreams of journalistic glory crumble before his eyes, replaced by the stark reality of legal consequences.

Outside, the F1 paddock buzzes with new excitement. Word of the impending lawsuit spreads quickly, and suddenly, those who were so quick to believe the scandal are backpedaling furiously.

You and Toto stand united before a sea of cameras, your hands clasped tightly together. Toto speaks first, his voice resonating with controlled anger.

“The allegations made against my wife and me are not only false but malicious,” he states. “We have always maintained the highest standards of professionalism and integrity in our respective roles.”

You step forward, your head held high. “I’ve worked tirelessly to earn my position as Team Principal at Scuderia Ferrari. To suggest that my success is due to anything other than my own merit is not only insulting to me but to every woman fighting to make her mark in this sport.”

The press conference continues, with you and Toto presenting a united front against the baseless accusations. As you field questions, you can see the tide of public opinion beginning to turn.

Later that evening, in the privacy of your hotel suite, you finally allow yourself to relax. Toto wraps you in a warm embrace, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“You were magnificent today,” he murmurs. “I’m so proud of you.”

You smile up at him, feeling the tension of the day start to melt away. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Toto chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eye. “The best. Although, I must say, I’m almost disappointed we don’t actually have any juicy secrets to share. It might make things more exciting.”

You playfully swat his arm, laughing despite yourself. “I think we have enough excitement in our lives, thank you very much.”

As you settle into each other’s arms, you know that whatever challenges come your way, you’ll face them together. The storm may rage outside, but in here, in this moment, all is calm.

And somewhere across the continent, in a small, cluttered apartment, Graham Lowell stares at his laptop screen, watching his career and reputation crumble in real-time.

Social media is ablaze with backlash against him and support for you and Toto. As he scrolls through the endless comments condemning his shoddy journalism, one thought echoes in his mind.

“I am so, so screwed.”

[makingqueerhistory]

I was talking with a friend recently about our favourite images from queer history, and while I adore the compilations of photos of people being explicitly and obviously queer, I wanted to share some of the images that have touched my heart. All of these are of queer subjects and I have linked some articles about the people in question below, in case anyone is interested! I have a lot more so tell me if y’all are interested.

Princess Vera Gedroitz

Marsha P. Johnson & Pride 

The Story of the Ladies of Llangollen

Amrita Sher-Gil

Carlos Jáuregui

Cássia Eller 

Claude Cahun

Bajazid Doda

Chavela Vargas

Jackie Shane 

[pumpkinpaix]

You have questions! We might have answers.

What is this collection?

As Maria puts it: this collection is a critical look at some of the things that we, the editors, think have made CQL such a hit around the world. Of course, part of that success comes from the webnovel MDZS and the show CQL themselves—we love the characters, the mystery, and the drama, who doesn’t?! However, the authors in our book also look at topics like translating danmei (both officially and unofficially), adapting danmei for new audiences, and interacting with fandoms and fanworks. The larger argument of the book is that all of these things played a huge role in CQL’s visibility and success, and we wanted to start making those moving pieces visible, especially for audiences who mainly watched CQL in translation.

You keep using the word “academic”—what does that mean, exactly? 

Maria: Ok, not to get pedantic here, but this actually touches on some things that I’m really excited about for the book. Traditionally, academic work is written by people who have a deep expertise in the subject (signified by having a PhD and doing specific kinds of research), and then the work itself is peer-reviewed (i.e., sent to other experts in the field for them to evaluate whether it’s sound, original, and interesting enough to publish, without knowing who wrote it). And both of these things are true about our book—our authors have deep knowledge and the book was peer reviewed—but also. We specifically asked for chapters from younger scholars and from fans who also have deep knowledge about topics that academia doesn’t always know or value enough, and we include an interview from the fan-translator K. who did the Exiled Rebels translation. So the hope is that: this book is academic, and also—more!

Who are you? 

Yue studies adaptation, fantasy, and popular culture texts using a feminist lens. She wrote an early, influential article about danmei adaptations and also has a book about feminist adaptations of Chinese fantasy.

Maria studies fanworks, contemporary fantasy, and genre literature. She’s scrambling to finish her dissertation right now.

How were the chapter spotlights chosen?

Voluntarily! The concept of a small social media promo was kicked around by some of the contributors and those interested in the idea filled out a short interview with what they wanted to share. We'll be posting about 2 introductions and 2 spotlights a day for the next week or so!

Who's running this social media campaign anyway?

Not the publishers! A few enthusiastic collection contributors got together and, with the assistance of the editors, have put this promotion together. We do not in any way represent Peter Lang in an official capacity! We just worked hard and wanted to share. :)

Are you making any money off of royalties from this book? 

LOL not even remotely

What about this promotion?

also no. alas

Where can I find this book? 

You can find our listing on Peter Lang’s website here. As for other retailers, a quick search should turn us up!  

How can I access this book if I cannot buy it from Peter Lang / [book retailer of choice]?

As collection editors and contributors who signed a legal agreement with Peter Lang, we have granted Peter Lang exclusive right and license to edit, adapt, publish, reproduce, distribute, display, and store our contributions, and we must cooperate fully with the Publisher if the Publisher believes a third party is infringing or is likely to infringe copyright in the contribution. 

That being said, these are academic papers, which means that contributors may make copies of the contribution for classroom teaching use! (These copies may not be included in course pack material for onward sale by libraries and institutions). Of course, any linking, collection or aggregation of chapters from the same volume is strictly prohibited.

(FAQ may be updated periodically!) (all posts on Catching Chen Qing Ling)

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

anyways, when Midnights first came out, the thing I was most struck by was how much of the record touched on how much Taylor had suffered and gave up and struggled with in light of chasing her dreams, and how her feeling left out and different when she was young tied in to her career and who she is now - a subject she hadn’t really sung about before, and I didn’t know why she’d chosen to just then, but a facet of her I was really interested in hearing about. In light of Joever, and in light of the articles about how a part of their breakup was due to his faltering career, in light of “you don’t get to tell me about sad”…. I am suddenly really understanding the appearance of that subject matter and it’s not just the umbrella of “looking back on my life”

[theodysseyofhomer]

if odysseus wanted have a good time sleeping around (or rather, if that's what the poet(s) wanted), he could simply do that. it's not like a male epic hero needed an excuse. what's unusual in the calypso situation is not that odysseus is sleeping with someone other than his wife; it's that the narrator affirms his unwillingness and misery.

and on the one hand, calypso is a misogynistic fantasy/nightmare in that she is a woman who can own a man in sexual slavery, which men in the world of the odyssey and of its composition do to women as a matter of course. on the other hand, she isn't a very common fantasy, is she? how often do you see a man held captive and raped in ancient literature?

or in contemporary literature, for that matter. i've had the 2013 article "the rape of james bond" saved to read for awhile (like... for a few months. not since 2013), which addresses more than the scope of this tumblr.edu post. but the author jumps off from the claim that constant sexual violence in fiction is needed for realism. she questions whether that is true in the way that it is often meant — e.g., whether the prevalence of rape in game of thrones is "realistic" to the middle ages — but she does argue that "sometimes, failing to acknowledge the risk of rape in circumstances where it would be particularly likely to be present can diminish the authenticity of a text."

[I]n so called Genre fiction, we love to strip away protection from our characters to give them an interesting job of coping on their own; parents are dead or absent or abusive, homesteads are burned down, authority figures are blinkered or oppressive; you can trust no one, for no one can hear you scream… And all these things will, in the real world, heighten a person’s vulnerability to all forms of violence, including sexual violence. So yes, realism does sometimes mean dealing with that vulnerability somehow or other. But that heightened vulnerability to sexual violence applies to men too. So where are they, all the raped male characters? People say, it would be unrealistic if she wasn’t raped, but take it for granted that of course he wasn’t. Why is that?

and yet here's the odyssey, one of the oldest extant pieces of literature, and we can't take it for granted, actually, that the pervasive threat of sexual violence in odysseus' world will never touch him.

the homeric epics include many, many enslaved people (of all genders) subject to implied rape (usually of women), and i won't pretend that's treated with the gravity it deserves. but the way calypso and odysseus are often dismissed makes me wonder if we're still not prepared for a specific kind of discomfort, rooted in the messaging we often get from fiction and society — though it does not reflect the reality of the lived experience of many people — that rape is always and only realistic when women go through it, because rape is what women and women uniquely are for.

[bumblesimagines]

Headcanon:

Dating Natalie Scatorccio

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

~~~

Natalie Scatorccio is a complicated girl. She puts up this tough, hardened, sarcastic exterior for others, especially those who look down on her for living in a trailer park, her sense of style, or her drinking and occasional drug usage. Natalie's used to the insults, the jabs, being constantly undermined or ignored. Despite what she's been through and how others perceive her, Natalie has a kind heart and a strong set of ethics that come out when someone needs protecting. As such, Natalie needs someone who looks past her hard exterior (and the rumors surrounding her) and embraces everything she is.

Natalie isn't much of a relationship kind of girl. Sure, she'd like one, just as anyone else would, but she knows most people at school apart from a select few only see her as trailer trash. She lets her eyes wander often and sometimes lets her mind do too, but there's always some insecurity or negative thought ready to bring her down. 

Until she meets you and she gets that fluttery, mouth-drying, heart-racing feeling in her stomach for the first time in a while.

Natalie has a love-hate relationship with crushes. They can be distracting, and depending on the person, heart-achingly annoying. But with you it's different. Her worries vanish when she meets your gaze and she smiles despite herself, even if it means enduring teasing from the other Yellowjackets. 

Natalie pretends to be confident when you first begin dating. She tries being the cool, chill, no-problem girlfriend most would expect her to be. Except she's not. She worries a lot, whether about you, how you feel about her, or how the relationship is, Natalie worries to hell and back. She half-expects you to change your mind about everything, to take back everything you've said and believe the rumors about her sleeping around or being this or that. 

Her anxieties ease with time and reassurance, although she despises feeling like a burden when she admits her worries to you. Some parts even feel guilty and not good enough when you kiss her and tell her everything's alright. Her father's nasty words echo in the back of her mind but just one warm, gentle touch from you silences him and she relaxes, turning putty in your hands. 

Natalie's an attentive girlfriend. She's an observer of sorts and she keeps all your interests in mind, locking away in her brain to remember for later. After practice, she enjoys going to your favorite place to eat and chat about school, the Yellowjackets, and anything else that comes to mind.

Natalie opens up gradually, letting you see a softer more vulnerable side that not many get the opportunity to see. She dances around the subject of bringing you home with her since the last time she brought someone over, it ended in her father's accidental death. But she embraces the fear and the memories hand-in-hand with you and takes you home, even if it's just briefly. Natalie finds it difficult to speak of her father, of her childhood, but she trusts you enough to do so and appreciates your soothing words and loving gestures.

Natalie is big on physical touch and quality time. She loves touching you, although most of the time she prefers it in private and out of sight. However, even in public, she'll try to find a way, whether it's through hand holding, being close enough to brush shoulders, fixing an article of clothing for you, resting her head on your shoulder. Sometimes you'll even be granted a kiss on the cheek. Behind closed doors, Natalie's all over you. As much as she enjoys talking, she likes making out a whole lot more and you'll often find her on your lap or curled up at your side.

Natalie likes cupping your face when she kisses you, one could say it's a habit of hers. You already know what she wants when she places her hands on your cheeks and gives you one of those cheeky smiles. 

Being with Natalie means going to the WHS Yellowjacket games. It means a lot to her when she finds you seated in the stands cheering them on, cheering her on. She always gives it her all during games, lest she wants a lecture from Taissa or Coach Martinez, but she tries even harder when she knows you're there watching her. Each time the game ends with them as victors, she'll rush over to you and envelope you in a hug, thanking you for being there and giving promises of spending time alone together. 

The Yellowjackets are a family as well as a team. No matter how many times they fight or argue or have their disagreements or literally break each other's legs, they're family and love each other. Despite that, Natalie takes her time introducing you to the team. Most of them already know from simply watching or overhearing gossip, and while Mari or Jackie may ask once or twice, they try to respect the distance. When Natalie finally officially introduces you as her partner, many girls jump at the chance to ask you questions, ranging from sweet ones to rude or offensive ones that have Natalie scowling and dragging you in the opposite direction. Regardless, the girls begin inviting you to things or greeting you in the halls and generally treating you as one of their own. You put Natalie in a better mood and the girls appreciate it. 

Despite the rumors of Natalie sleeping around, she's only ever slept with two guys, something she admits to you with worry that you soothe away without even meaning to. Once past the rumor mill, Natalie often initiates sex, sometimes in the most random of private places. Sometimes in a car, on school grounds, at your place, or the bathroom of some random party. She's a hormonal teenage girl who's head over heels. Who could blame her? Though, expect her to be putty in your hands if you make the first move. She'll get all giggly and blush red like a tomato.

All in all, Natalie makes for a good girlfriend, despite her troubles and tragic childhood. She tries her best and she'll always consider you one of her first priorities in life, even if it means putting you before herself. You're the first one she runs to with news, the first person she thinks of when she wakes up in the morning, the first person she seeks out in school. She'll protect you with her life if needed and will defend you against anyone.

But everything changes when Flight 2525 crashes in the wilderness.

[vile-wizard]

Fell down a 5am pop culture/celebrity rabbit hole after seeing an article discussing the movie adaptation of that Colleen Hoover book "It Ends With Us". (I try not to hate on authors I haven't read but based on the reviews and excerpts of her writing I've seen I'm going to believe the majority here and say they are not that great. Hoover also gets a bad rep for glamorizing abusive relationships in her writing which is why I was interested in reading about the new movie just to see what the angle there is.)

Anyway, the director Justin Baldoni wants it to be a serious film about domestic abuse but lead actress Blake Lively is selling the film as a funny romcom. At first I was thinking it was a Twilight situation where the actors know how trash the book is and can't take it seriously. I mean the lead character is named Lily Blossom Bloom how serious can you be....but after watching a few clips and interviews I fully believe that Lively's flippant mischaracterization of the movie is weird as fuck. Hearing her promote her hair care line, drinks company and say "grab your friends and wear your florals!" was just so jarring placed in contrast to Baldoni's earnest discussion about the film's subject matter. I feel like if she said 1 serious thing about abuse or DV or the graphic nature of the movie I would be more sympathetic but. Wow... It's a category 9 out-of-touch celebrity moment....

[badaseyebags]

private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 3 ⟢

fluff, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters

warnings: bada is a tease, the power dynamics are still very much obvious, age gap, bada, just bada.

word count: approx 1,7k

authors note: aaaaah it's finally here don't ask me what happened 😭 this one sucks butt, but i promise i'll try to update more often if anyone is still interested 🫶🏻🫶🏻 -🍞

you spent the rest of your weekend huddled up in bada’s sweater, consuming the subject you were supposed to be learning all along, eating it up as if you were starved for knowledge. truth is, you were. but you were more starved for her attention, attention you’d get from her if you improve your performance in class.. or touch starved, or just starved for her in general if we’re being honest.

her scent that coated the vibrant fabric was starting to wear off, and you wished monday would come faster than ever before. it wasn’t easy to take that soft article of clothing off, you practically lived in it for the time being and washing it.. was even harder. torturous almost. it meant you would no longer be surrounded by the aroma of her musky perfume mixing with the sweet smell of her skin. how you wish you could go back in time.. speaking of back in time..what would have happened if she didn’t “control” herself, and what exactly did she mean by it? you sigh closing your eyes, drifting into yet another slumber, fortunately last one before you get to see her again.

were you being too bold? was the lipstick costing your glossy lips too much? or was it the fact that you pulled up to class wearing that sweater she let you borrow? you don’t recall ever being that daring, but you also never assumed you’d be making out with your teacher on her damn table that she eats from every single day. does she even remember? for you it was impossible to forget but.. she’s your teacher after all, and you’re just a student.

will she even notice it? will she even notice you? it wasn’t just a one time thing was it.. you bite the inside of your cheek, looking out the window in your seat as you impatiently wait for the bell to ring, hoping to see her tall figure appear as soon as the sound hits your ears.

you hear the door close and your eyes don’t have the confidence to look up. you can’t see her, but you can feel her, you can smell her. her subtle scent that you’ve been missing filling your nose, your ears picking up the clicking of her heels against the floor. even the atmosphere in the room has changed, making everyone quiet down and suddenly pay attention. hearing everyone greet her made you want to look at her so bad, just steal a little glance at least. you were itching to see her face again. but this time it was different, she wasn’t just a teacher you had a innocent crush on, nono.. she was a teacher who invited you over to her place and nearly devoured you whole on her kitchen table. those memories again! can they finally leave? ahh.. you still had to get a peek, a quick look won’t hurt.

you tell yourself as your eyes slowly trail up, your head never moving from its original position. wow.. she looked gorgeous. her long legs hugged by a pair of black slacks paired with a white blouse and those expensive looking heels that made her even taller. and her hair waved so nicely, red lipstick almost matching her shade of blush? oh wait… that’s unlikely of her. she doesn’t usually put on blush. you would know, you spent hours and hours studying her features while she had no idea, or so you thought. you tilt your head trying to figure out where she found such a pretty color, your eyes naturally finding their way higher until they reach her own. you were getting ready to look away as soon as she’d catch you looking, but she beat you to it.

her eyes instantly locked with yours and than hurriedly avoided them. you noticed her looking down at her own sweater covering your body, followed by a sound of her clearing her throat and looking elsewhere. oh, so the shade of her blush she put on was you after all.

a soft shade of pink also tints your cheeks as you smile and look away, fully relishing in the fact that this feeling is at least to some extent mutual. you swing your feet around, hands flipping through your notes, spending the rest of her class stealing glances at one another, with her being a little better at concealing it. as the bell rings you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and stay still in your seat as everyone else impatiently grabs their stuff and runs out the door.

it’s the last class of the day after all, nobody wants to spend even a single extra minute in class. especially on a Monday. nobody except you apparently. “miss, y/n.” a soft voice snaps you out of your day dream, finally having the opportunity to look her straight in the eyes.

“let’s move our tutoring to an hour earlier today, it will save you time…i’ll drive you.” she speaks nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t affected at all, finishing up some work on the computer as she remains seated in her chair. you grip your bag in your arms against your chest as you remain in your chair, nervous to let anyone see you leave with her. “ah yes, thank you” you mumble looking down. “thank you, what?” the clicking sounds of her fingers against the keyboard comes to a halt, one of her eyebrows rising as her eyes search for yours, her head not fully turning. you ponder for a second, but seeing her expression told you all you needed to know. “t-thank you ma’am.” you mumble under your breath, to shy to speak inside the now empty classroom as it echoed. she smirks continuing her work, looking back at the screen. “good girl.” you clutch your bag trying not to look affected, but by her reaction she knew just what kind of effect she had on you.

by the time you collected your breathing and the messy state of your mind, she has finished up preparing for tomorrows class and packed up her belongings. her hands reached for her purse and you remained glued to your seat. causing her to chuckle and walk over to you, offering you her hand. “are you ready to leave?” you nod quickly, shaky hand grabbing hers as she helps you stand up, and honestly you kind of needed that right now otherwise you would of stumbled. you let go on her hand once you’re fully back on your feet, and her thumb gently strokes the back of your hand before also letting go as you walk out of the classroom together, following close behind, too shy to walk beside her.

you timidly trail along, keeping your head down as you tried not to make eye contact with anybody, too scared they will see into your mind and see what’s going on between the two of you as you step into the passengers seat of her car. your hands try to find the seatbelt but she beat you to it, leaning over and clutching in in her hands to wrap it across your hips. she grins at your reaction, prolonging eye contact a little longer just to mess with you. she finally leans back in her own seat, buckling her seat belt and resting her hands on the steering wheel as she starts the engine. you finally exhale trying to focus on the road but the way she’s gripping the steering wheel is distracting you big time. you huff opting to look out the window. when will this torture end? she’s to attractive no matter what she’s doing, in fact even when she’s not doing anything at all. not fair!

you get caught up in your day dreaming a little but are quickly shaken out of it as you feel the car come to a stop. that was quick, you think to yourself. much quicker than you remember the way to her house being. you look around trying to spot her apartment but don’t see anything remotely similar. “huh?” your eyes scan the area further. she just smiles undoing her seatbelt, reaching over to undo yours as well before getting out the car and opening the door for you as you exist the vehicle. “i thought it would be a nice gesture to take you to a cafe, so you could actually focus on studying.” she says with a hint of sarcasm in her comment, just to see your face flush once again. she holds the cafe door open for you and once again your heart races a little bit faster. you find a spot that’s a little hidden, sitting down in a little corner which relaxes you a bit more as you don’t like crowded places. your fingers play with the edge of the menu, unsure what to order. “what will you get sweetie?” she glances up at you, eyes never scanning the menu once. “uh- i dunno..i like sweet coffee..” you admit nervously. “oh do you still? it looked like you didn’t mind the taste of bitter coffee last time we met.” she smirks seeing your face fall upon realisation. the images of that night filling your mind once again. the way her lips tasted, the way her tongue glided against yours, the way you got drunk off the taste of the coffee she had earlier.

gods must of heard your calling for help as she got up with a chuckle, ruffling your hair. “i’m just kidding cutie, i’ll be right back.” as soon as she turned around to go buy your drinks you bit into your fist. “calm down, calm down, you can do this, woman!” you motivate yourself, this will be a long day..

[don-dake]

On Standards, Variants & Mix-ups

標準、異體以及混亂字

Stumbled upon this picture ↑ and this interesting, albeit, rather old webpage (article's from 2007) recently, where the author touches on the topic of “Standardised” and Variant Characters and some examples of the differences between Hong Kong and Taiwan style 繁體字 (Traditional characters).

“Standardised”, put in quotes because what's considered a Standard may be subject to changes any time.

What caught my eye was the characters for 「茨」、「丸」 and 「遨��� in particular, because while I knew about the other characters and their 異體 (variants) shown here, I never noticed/knew about the slight differences between the “Standard” (標準字體) and Popular (俗寫字體) variants for 「茨」、「丸」 and 「遨」 before, (no) thanks too to the added confusion brought on by font styles sometimes!

I realise in the grand scheme of things, especially as we go farther still into this digital age (and not forgetting about changing Standards every now and then), minor discrepancies in font styles are not going to really matter. But if one feels like being pedantic; wanna be “more correct” and all that…then this is something worth taking note of! (笑)

While I'm taking notes, I only realised now too that technically, characters like 「讀」、「續」、「犢」、「竇」 and 「櫝」 should be written with a

「*𧶠」 [🇭🇰🇲🇴 juk⁶; 🀄 ㄩˋ/yǜ]

*n.b.: in case it still can't be seen clearly, the 「罒」 is actually a compressed 「四」.

phonetic component rather than a

「賣」 [🇭🇰🇲🇴 maai⁶; 🀄 ㄇㄞˋ/mài]

This revelation certainly makes it clearer now why 「讀」、「續」、「犢」、「竇」 and 「櫝」 are pronounced with an ‘ㄨ/u; ㄩ/yü’ sound!

So have I been writing 「讀」 (and all other relevant characters) “wrongly” all this while?! (囧) Depending on what “Standards” one goes by I guess, confusing computer font styles notwithstanding! (笑)

[ingravinoveritas]

I recently had this link shared with me by one of my lovely friends here in the fandom, and found it so compelling that I wanted to share it with all of you.

This is a recent article from Vanity Fair about Cary Grant and Randolph Scott, both iconic actors from the era we now call "Old Hollywood," and it details their extremely interesting--both by the standards of the era and today--relationship. It's a long read, but more than worth it.

For those who may not know, Cary Grant was an English-born American actor and iconic leading man, and Randolph Scott was an American actor most known for appearing in Westerns. Both men were married to women/had children at varying points in their lives, but by some accounts (and especially what is chronicled in this article), they were the loves of each other's lives, even though being openly queer was next to impossible at the time, and would've been looked at as a career-ending (and maybe even life-ending) move.

There also seem to be quite a few parallels between Cary and Randolph 90 years ago and Michael and David today. The two men actually lived together for a number of years, during which the press of the day chose to portray them as "just two fun-loving bachelors waiting to find the right gal," all while Grant in particular starred in films with queer-flavored undertones that were both bold and downright dangerous in the era of the Hays Code. They continued living together when Grant was first married to his first wife, Virginia Cherrill (and after they divorced), and fun fact: While Grant was married, Scott moved right next door...so they were, in fact, neighbors.

Here are a few other excerpts that very much reminded me of Michael and David, for your consideration. (FYI that "Archie Leach" was Cary Grant's birth name before he changed it to his stage name.) This first one calls to mind the Radio Times calling Michael and David a "handsome couple" on the night of the NTAs in 2021:

This next one of course made me think of Michael and David talking on David's podcast (skip to the 1:25 mark) in 2019 about hating photo shoots and how Michael flat-out refused to answer questions at one point and only got through it because of David:

And this last one features a quote from a close friend about Grant and Scott that nearly made my heart skip an entire beat. For reasons that will soon be very, very obvious:

(I mean...)

What is also remarkable about this article (though not necessarily in a good way) is the mention of how little has changed since Grant and Scott's time. How even today, any actor who comes out as any flavor of queer is immediately looked at differently, and how the fear of both professional and personal repercussions keeps people in the closet for so many reasons.

These were the parts of the article that stood out to me the most, but as always I would love to hear from my followers with your thoughts and takes on the parallels above or anything else that you find interesting...

[sgiandubh]

Machiavelli took a day off

... when the Telegraph article was written in great haste, by someone blatantly given a last minute task, who had no fucking idea to whom she was talking and what exactly meant the PR vetted or even prompted questions.

Instead of a line-by-line analysis, we'll take things differently, on this page, using the '5 W rule of journalism' (or even non-fiction writing, in general, if you ask me):

Who? SRH, EP of the OL series and one of the two male leads of the TCND series, which will be shortly broadcast by Channel 4, in the UK and IE only (and Movistar in ES). The rest of the world is not concerned.

What? A promotional article, focused on the actor's personality, CV and projects.

When? At a particular moment in time, just after the SAG-AFTRA strike and before shooting OL's eighth and last season.

Where? Crucial to place it in LHR (to imply he is 'just visiting') and God forbid it would be in GLA, which (for some curious reasons) seems to be off-limits.

Why? An actor with solid credentials hopes to keep agents and employers interested, after above OL project is done, which is rather sooner than later. Also addressing (as per the actor's PR agent specific requirements) three particular issues: the Palestine letter, the Bond project and his 'private life'.

Onwards to the three issues at stake, which probably prompted the article. In chronological order, this time. And no, I am not going to address the Scottish independence mention, because this is a sincere, well-known position of his and this page never bitches about people's convictions - also because I educated myself on it and I agree with S.

Palestine:

It was important, for obvious reasons, to push damage control a tad further. Also, strictly from a hypothetical POV, I would be very curious to read your compare and discuss thoughts with regard to this particular post on this page:

A sort of answer came in the Telegraph paper, too. Not only to me (I am less than nobody), but to all the people (of which we were many) who thought he should not get involved in this type of debate:

This is not the first time he uses this specific talking point. Last time known to me was on the day the Queen died, on X (I looked for that post, but can't find it, because I am just a filthy lurker, like that: but it is there).

The really interesting question, therefore, is: does he/somebody monitor what is being said on Tumblr? The answer is, I think, yes, and it shows. Will it stop me talking in here? Nope, as I trust my discerning abilities, for the moment. Other than that, his damage control op does not bring anything new to the table.

Bond:

What can I say, Sir? While there's life, there's apparently hope. But that doesn't translate well, given the context of your interview. That spells desperate and it's not a great picture. Also, let us keep a pious moment of silence in fond memory of a 25 year old who had a dream and the dream went to Daniel Craig (who I detested as Bond, because every girl has her Bond and mine is Pierce Brosnan, amen).

I know people still speculate about it. I have very high reservations and I cannot, for the life of me, seriously consider even thinking about the possibility. He could do it with flying colors, no doubt. Does he stand a chance? I prefer to have zero expectations on it and be floored if it happens. If he naively still yearns/pushes for it, this interview could very well be as abysmal as C's VF tantrum.

'Private life':

Ugh. Slippery when wet. I have already touched the subject in a reactive re-blog of @samheughanswife's post about it and I will not get back to what I said even without reading the article.

Some more extraordinary wording, in here: 'there might even be space for a personal life' - begs the question 'when?' In general? (in general, all men are created equal, too - it's practice that kills the theory) Now? (it is my staunch belief the answer is yes). After OL? (then and now and after Hiroshima, too). Can you program these things? (nope, stars simply aligned) Heh. Enough said. Also, 'might' spells cheap insinuation to me. But that's just me, a blonde voice in the audience.

Now, onwards to the daughter thing. I believe this specifically addresses the cheap, abundant clickbait content on You Tube, hence the vague 'online' reference (not Tumblr, not fans, not blogs - he is not C, he kept it clean). Such as this very recent one (last 'clip' on the topic was five days ago):

The two I chose to share here, which are very conspicuous FAKES, are originating from the same 'source', an account that seems obsessed with S&C and has no problem changing its narrative three times a week, if needed. My opinion? PR induced shite, to prod numbers/interest and see what sticks.

No newborn daughter? I hear no lies.

As for OL leaving 'no time for relationships', ahem. *urv will be thrilled to read that, I bet the farm. As will Flukenzie Floozy, at least her - damn, she was persistent! Also, hello, back to 2014-2016 playbook, aren't we?

No new relationships? Whatever for, when IYKYK? I hear no lies.

'I want a cat' ('because she's great', says my shipper brain on autopilot), 'but I am too scared even for that'. Humph. A very poor lie. But admitting you wanted and got a Ca(i)t scares the bejesus out of you, since 2016. I hear no lies. Yes, I am being tongue in cheek and damn the consequences.

Morality of it?

The easiest solution is never to take personal questions in interviews or panels. Why These Two still do it completely mystifies me.

[vixentheplanet]

illicit nights

“a little less conversation and a little more touch my body.”

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You were born and raised in Wakanda, but you chose to leave to pursue a modeling career. You've amassed global fame as an international model, gracing runway shows, featuring in luxury campaigns, and appearing in fashion magazines. You're in the spotlight, and the entire world is watching your every move. After a very public breakup, you decide to return home to reconnect with your country and the people you love.

You didn't expect to catch the attention of your sister's best friend in your attempt to get over your heartbreak, let alone end up in a private sexual relationship with said friend. The Wakandan Queen.

word count: 5.9k

themes: model/famous reader, queen shuri, childhood friends, hookups

warnings: sex, drinking, idk i forget y’all read this before

hi! 🤧😔 this is actually kinda hard because i never title my stories in the documents and i make copies when i’m editing in case i delete something and i want it so i’m going through so many documents to find the right one and then all the outfits are gone. i can’t remember the themes and warnings i put… anyways, y’all good sister is back up

When you decided not to attend Wakanda University to pursue a modeling career, you did not doubt that you would succeed. Your parents wanted you to follow in the footsteps of your elder sister, but subjects like physics and calculus never piqued your interest. There was a lot of debate regarding your decisions, especially when you told your family that you were leaving Wakanda. Many Wakandans live beyond the borders, but you weren't looking for a simple life.

You were blessed with breathtaking beauty and the qualities for which others were willing to pay millions. It's hardly surprising with a face like yours, in just a few years, your career has skyrocketed to unfathomable heights, catapulting you into worldwide fame. Every fashion week, you're on the runway, traveling worldwide for campaigns, fittings, and numerous billboards of your face.

While you like the acclaim and spotlight, you quickly learn that being such a public figure in the entertainment industry has drawbacks. You have been in a highly publicized relationship with actress Mya Hope for nearly two years. Maybe it was your naivety, being new to everyone, but you and Mya hit it off immediately. It was lovely initially, but as your relationship progressed, it was just continuous disputes, mistrust, and resentment. You endured it because you expected things to change one day, but then Mya cheated. You learned through a gossip article that several individuals provided you with via text and social media.

Because her infidelity provided concrete evidence that things weren't working out between the two of you, you broke up. It was awful after the public found out. You've had relationships in the past, but they were the silly childlike attachments all kids have as time passes. Nothing has ever been this long or public. Being followed around and pressured into making a statement about something so personal was a culture shock. Who in their right mind wants to expose their private grievances to the rest of the world?

This month was an emotional roller coaster, and after wrapping up a photo shoot for Dior's upcoming campaign, you instructed your manager not to arrange anything else. You needed some alone time and wanted to go home and rest away from everything and everyone—home, not LA.

With the help of your older sister, Izara, by the end of the week, you'll be back in the safety of your rightful home, Wakanda.

Your mother never approved of Mya, and despite your best efforts to keep your family informed, she had kept up with your activities in your work through Western media, including your relationship. You guessed it was because she was afraid you'd end up permanently residing outside of Wakanda, but maybe mother intuition told her the relationship wasn’t right for her daughter.

When you arrived at the house where you'd grown up and rushed back to your mother's arms, she didn't criticize or tell you that you should have listened. "I expected you to say I told you so." You inform her.

"A mother can only guide her child and hope that they will listen, but it's our responsibility to be here when you fall," she adds as she pulls you tight.

The next day, your sister comes over first thing in the morning. Izara was four years older than you. You two were close; she was your elder sibling, and you naturally respected her intelligence and accomplishments. However, as you matured, you came to see that you had different interests despite your shared affection for one another. While Izara excelled at technology and engineering, you discovered a love of fashion and beauty. You loved your nation and knew you could build a successful career in Wakanda once you found you wanted to be a model, but you wanted to be known worldwide.

Being the baby of the family, it was difficult for your family to accept that you were going, but they realized deep down that there wasn't much they could do to influence you or your choices. As they witnessed your success, your family became increasingly supportive and proud. The only disadvantage is that your career has kept you away from Wakanda and the people you care about. It was challenging to find time to return home while growing your profession. You weren't worried about taking time off now that you were in a secured position in the industry.

“What are you moving back in?” Your sister makes a joke about all the things you brought. One packing rule you had was that it was better to be cautious than sorry. You’d rather overpack than need something thousands of miles away. After all, you didn't arrive by plane. A Wakandan aircraft had no weight restrictions.

Your mother is quick to reprimand her. “Hush. My child is always welcome to come back.”

“I- I don’t know about moving back yet,” You admit, dismissing any thoughts your mother has about you moving in. "But, I'll be here a little while." Though you did not intend to stay in Wakanda indefinitely, you weren't in a hurry to go. The combination of fresh air and your mom's homemade pastries positively impacted your mood.

Later, you and your sister relaxed in the living room while your mother was in the kitchen. She was so excited to see both of her daughters under the same roof after such a long period that she rushed to prepare tea and lime cake. Your favorites. “No moping. Your sadness is going to make me sad,” Izara says, frowning at you.

"I'm not moping," you say with a sigh. “It wasn’t even going to last. We fought a lot. I knew I was unhappy, but all the attention was overwhelming. It simply has to blow over." Your sister was the only person who understood the ins and outs of your previous relationship. She was your closest confidante and had warned you to leave Mya so often that she was probably exhausted by how stubborn you were.

Izara hums understandingly. “Don’t worry. It will. Those silly foreigners will find something else trivial and pointless to focus on. In the meantime, you need to be out and enjoy being single.” She advises. “Like, when’s the last time you had sex?”

“Izara, shut up,” there’s a warning in your tone. You confided in your sister about many things, but that was where you drew the line. She didn't need to know what you did, and you didn’t need to know what she did. Though the question did make you think, it’s been over a month since the initial break up, and you and Mya had long stopped being intimate. The passion just wasn’t there.

Izara is always persistent and keeps talking. “What! We’re both grown. We can talk about that now.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, deciding to change the conversation to focus on your sister, “How is work?” She’d recently been promoted at her job working in the laboratory at the palace. She had called to tell you, but you had been in the midst of a photoshoot. Part of you felt bad you couldn’t give her your full attention upon hearing the news.

As the director of research methodologies, she spent a great deal of time in the various villages conducting focus groups to determine where improvements were needed. She then brought the data back to the lab, where they worked to enhance the areas that needed it. “It's incredible. I feel good knowing that my work has a positive influence.” Your sister has always been active in the community, dedicating her life to helping others.

“That’s amazing, Izara. I’m proud of you.” You say because you genuinely are, even though you didn’t take after your sister and her love for science. Her drive and passion are admirable. “It’s okay. It’s your job not to be fucked up so I can be the rebellious one.”

That gets a laugh out of your sister. You’ve missed that sound. “Not to brag, but I’ve been considering returning to University for my Ph.D.. Shuri is encouraging me.”

Shuri. Since childhood, the Princess, now Queen of Wakanda, was your sister's best friend. They attended the same primary school and connected instantly. You recall when Izara snuck Shuri into your home for a playdate, unbeknownst to your mother and the King and Queen. The Dora Milaje arrived at your mother's home with spears in hand before learning that the mischievous princess had sneaked away to play with her new companion. Your cheeks rise as you recall that day. "There's that smile again!"

“Just remember the time you almost got our entire family executed.” You chuckle, and Izara groans. She hates this story.

“We didn’t know any better!” After that day, Queen Ramonda invited your sister to the palace to play to prevent any other misunderstandings. Shuri would occasionally come to your house, allowing the two girls to form a lasting bond. “You had the biggest crush on her. You used to follow us around whenever she’d come over,” Izara added, laughing as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

For the record, it was a brief crush. The wooden doll house you had collapsed a few weeks before your seventh birthday, and you cried all night about it. Shuri presented you with a fully equipped doll house for your birthday. You recall looking on with wide eyes as she demonstrated all of the functions, the lights switched on, and water poured out of the sink. Still, you'd never acknowledge it. “I did not have a crush on her. I was following you. I wanted to be just like you until I realized how boring you were.” You snickered. A look of disbelief crosses your sister's face, and you laugh harder.

"I should thank Shuri," you say once you've quieted down. When you told Izara you were planning to return home, she enlisted the assistance of her best friend, who made every effort to ensure your safe arrival. You're not sure you could have endured another moment amid the chaos.

“You should, and she would love to see you.” Your sister agrees. “I have to go to the office tomorrow. Actually, we can stop over there, and then we can go to the shops. I have to buy Aneka a birthday gift.” Aneka, another one of your sister's friends. She had such a bold personality but was always kind to you. “Oh, and you’re coming Saturday.”

"I-" you start, thinking for a moment. There's no justification for you staying at home, feeling miserable over a failed relationship that wasn't going anywhere. It's been a little more than a month, and you're supposed to be unwinding and having fun. Izara squeals and orders you to be prepared by an ungodly hour after you accept.

You and your sister traveled to Birnin Zana the following day. You knew the Golden City but had never been within the Citadel. While your sister is likely to be familiar with both the interior and outside of the high-rise glass tower, you have never stepped foot inside. With all the Dora Milaje present, it was a little intimidating, and you did your best to keep up with your sister in your heels. As Izara was a few steps ahead of you, someone you imagined was a staff member gave you a strange look. “Stop walking so fast.”

Izara ignores your request and keeps moving. "No one told you you had to wear those shoes." She lets you catch up by coming to a halt in front of an elevator.

“It’s not the shoes. It’s you.” You argue, coming up to her as you wait for the elevator.

As you rode the elevator, your thoughts turned to the new Queen. Several years have passed since your last interaction with her. Shuri had always impressed you with her intelligence, and she was extraordinarily strategic and visionary. She undoubtedly carried those attributes with her when she ascended to the throne.

“I didn't tell her you were coming. She’s going to be so surprised.” Izara scans her badge and enters the lab. You follow behind her. “Shuri, I have the file you asked for; sorry, I was reviewing it over to make sure we caught all the errors from the last trial and-”

Shuri had looked up when she heard your sister's voice, but you saw her eyes widen in your presence. “Y/N?” You watch as she blinks a few times, taking you in.

Shuri’s hair was short now, the sides shaved, and her hair coiled into a mohawk. She wore a light gray boiler suit. Truth be told, you did have a crush on Shuri when you were younger but grew out of it. It was the projection of a childish imagination. It faded with time and age as you ventured away from your sister and developed your own relationship with friends, no longer in the same space as the Wakandan Princess. But now, she looks good, very good.

“Hi,” you say, happy to see another familiar face. After being surrounded by strangers and new faces for the past few years, the familiarity of home was comforting. "I appreciate you arranging transportation for me to get here." You instantly tell her, knowing the reason for your visit. You did not intend to disturb her.

Shuri is quick to respond, “Of course, Izara said you wanted to visit. It was no trouble.” It was the honest truth. You know Shuri would do anything for your sister and, in relation, you.

Izara smiles, “I’m happy to have my little sister home though I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m trying to cheer her up.” Your sister pinches your cheeks and immediately moves away from reach when you swat her hand away. She might be a little obnoxious. You are not a baby.

“I am not a baby.” You vocalize, rolling your eyes.

"You'll always be my baby," she replies with a childish pout. "Now, wait right here. I’ll be back. I’m going to grab something from my office.” Izara says as she walks out of the lab, leaving you and Shuri alone.

You begin to appreciate the painting on the cylindrical pillar in the room, assuming you won't bother Shuri anymore, but Shuri speaks. “To what do I owe this visit? Not every day, I have Wakanda’s most famous supermodel walking into my lab,” she jokes.

It’s clear she’s being humorous, but your face heats up. “Oh, I wanted to see you and say thank you. I’m just following Izara around, and we’re going to pick out a birthday gift for Aneka.” You explain, trying to ignore the sensation in your cheeks.

Shuri is now leaning back against one of the tables, completely focused on you. "What did Izara mean when she said 'better circumstances'?" She inquires, her gaze fixed on yours.

She patiently waits. You pause, unsure how much you should reveal. All the arguments and nights of crying make you question if your sister ever mentioned Mya to Shuri. You make the decision to keep things simple. “I’m going through a very public breakup which means nothing to anyone here but everything to the media out there.”

“You know how hard it is to be walking down the street and be harassed with a thousand questions about your ex?” It was a rhetorical question. The media was ruthless and would stop at nothing until they could pull enough out of you to exploit for their own selfish advantage.

Shuri, being the intellect she is, probably realizes you'd rather not discuss this and moves on. "Wakanda, thankfully, does not have such an animalistic journalism system." Culturally, there was a high level of respect and awareness throughout the community that your business was private. Wakanda was far more developed and gave little thought to gossip and drama.

You were thankful for that. Breakups aren’t easy, no matter how shitty the relationship was. External stress wasn’t helping with your mood. You finally felt like you could breathe. “Exactly. Anyways I’m happy to be back.”

“Any plans?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Other than spending time with my family, no.” Further into your stay, you’d probably come up with some type of itinerary, but you were laying low for now. “Izara thinks I should be out enjoying being single.” She or your mom would probably try to set you up sooner or later.

Shuri nods in agreement. “She’s right, you know? There’s no reason to waste time thinking about someone who isn’t thinking about you when you could be having fun.”

The bluntness of Shuri’s words surprises you. “I suppose I’m young. I should be doing what I want with who I want.” You remark in a lighthearted tone.

Shuri glances at you, licking her lips, and winks. "Exactly," she replies. Your heart rate increases. Is she hitting on you?

Izara returns, and you both say goodbye to the Queen before heading to the shops. The brief exchange has left your thoughts in a frenzy. You spent the rest of the day trying to persuade yourself. Shuri was undoubtedly attractive, but there was no way a years-old crush would be rekindled within seconds of seeing her again. A crush you had when you were five at that, but the way her tone held so much suggestion.

Wakanda's nightlife was always lively. People come together, clubbing at the same venue, existing at the same time in the same place. It was an essential aspect of the culture and many people's choice for a social gathering or celebration.

The next night, you're on Elixir's second floor, famed for its massive and powerful alcoholic beverages. Aneka's party had the entire floor to themselves, and she leaped up and down as soon as she noticed you. “Ah! Baby Izara! We see your billboards when we’re on missions outside Wakanda.” She tells you, and you feel shy under all the attention. It was nice to know that the people at home were supportive in seeing you thrive. "Thank you!" You exclaim as you hug her. You said hello to a couple more people before ordering a cocktail and settling in. You're seated alone in one of the many round booths. Your sister and a few others had gone downstairs to join the sea of crowded and sweaty bodies.

You had the idea to go down there. Dance on someone, make an emotionless connection, and return to their apartment, but you know in the back of your mind that it wasn't for you. Impersonal connections lack the comfort of knowing each other's bodies and personalities.

There's quite a commotion at the club's entrance, and you peek down to see all the excitement. Shuri navigated the crowd with a small group of individuals following behind her. The woman was dressed in all black, with form-fitting pants and a tailored blazer—dark shades, shielding her eyes from those around her.

You felt something stirring deep within you the entire time your attention was drawn to her.

The sheer strength and command of her presence divides the crowd. She doesn’t have to ask. Everything about her screams dominance, and you can't deny that you're drawn to it, trying not to let your imagination wander into the illicit territory. This was not a crush. This was pure want. Shuri makes her way up the large metal steps, where she is embraced by the bubbly birthday girl who has had too many drinks. “Shuri! You made it,” Aneka says excitedly. The sweet look Ayo gives her excited girlfriend warms your heart. They're adorable.

Before hugging Aneka, the Queen leans in and says something only she can hear. She fades from view as she moves deeper into the scene, most likely conversing with others. When you see Shuri again, she's walking over to you, drink in hand, her steps purposeful.

She slides into the booth across from you without asking. “I’m surprised you’re not down there dancing. What happened to being young and single?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Please," you retort. "So I can have sweaty men press their balls on my back. Thank you, but no." Your lips were pursed.

“So you came out to sit around?” Shuri comments. “In such a pretty outfit,” she notes. Her eyes are covered behind those black shades, but her statement indicates she's checking you out, taking in the way your boobs sit nicely and the tiny skirt displaying the silky flesh of your upper thigh. There's a trace of something in her voice as if she's coaxing you to reveal more, understanding there's more to your decision to isolate yourself. Again, a tempting tone.

You’re not in the mood for mind games. “You ask a lot of questions. Besides, are you not doing the same thing?” Your voice is laced with skepticism as you eye her.

Shuri lets out a disagreeing sound. “I’m here to celebrate Aneka and enjoy my night.”

If she can tease you, why can’t you do the same? You twirl your tongue around the straw in your drink, and Shuri can’t look away. “Since you’re here with me, am I a part of the enjoyment?”

When your eyes meet, there’s a glint of danger in them. “I think you should behave.” Her tone was low and warning.

If she believed that would get you to listen, she was mistaken. That resulted in the opposite effect, as you felt arousal between your legs. "And what if I don't?" You push, your eyes innocent, as if you had no idea how provocative your tone was. She looked damn good in that suit.

You were putting aside the complication caused by the fact that Shuri was your sister's best friend and the Queen of your country. Something enticed you to make a move on her. You notice the cherry in her glass and immediately say, "I can tie that with my tongue." It was a cool trick you picked up from a model in Cannes. People were always shocked at how simple you made it look before trying it themselves.

Shuri glances at you as she takes the cherry into her mouth instead of answering vocally. The stem is just beyond her lips, and her brows are lifted, waiting for you. You bend across the table, making sure not to brush your lips together as you move the stem from her mouth to yours. She keeps a close eye on you while you concentrate on your task, stretching your tongue upward and trapping it against the roof of your mouth.

You stick your tongue out after pushing the end through the loop, revealing the knotted cherry stem to Shuri. She removes her glasses, folds them, and sets them next to her cherry-free drink. Eyes filled with fire. “Stop looking at me like that.” You could sense a level of hesitation from the woman. Behave wasn't a no; it simply indicated she was attempting to get you to back off since her resolve was slipping.

You roll your eyes as you remove the stem from your tongue and place it on a napkin. “You know you’re practically undressing me with your eyes.” You could see a glimmer of hunger in her features, and you knew you had her right there.

“Mmm, I’m not the one showing off tongue tricks,” Shuri smirks, sipping her drink.

Before you can say anything, a breathless voice breaks the tension between you. “Shuri!” your sister and two of the girls had returned from the dancefloor. “Scoot over. I’m taking a five-minute break.” Izara says. You can see the sweat on her forehead. You start to shift over to make room for everyone, and you’re forced to be pressed against Shuri, depleting the distance.

Upon their arrival, Shuri redirects her attention to her best friend, “Hey, Zar. I was just asking your sister why she wasn’t dancing.” Glancing at you with a smug look, she was enjoying this.

Izara nods, “I told her she needed to get down there and have fun. It’s been five weeks, and the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.”

As you drum your fingers across the glass table top, a sigh escapes your lips. I’m trying, you think. "I'm not keen on hooking up with strangers," you answer instead. You were discrete with your words. Sneaking a quick look over at Shuri when you say it, you find her already staring back at you. Her expression has now become unreadable.

Izara sighs. Her sole motive for inviting you was for you to have fun; she probably believed you weren't having a great time, but your attention was attracted to something you didn't need to search for. You wouldn’t tell her that, though. "Oh, Bast, you need more liquor." She approaches a waiter and orders a round of shots.

As soon as the waiter places the shot glasses on the table, all eyes turn to you. You reached forward, grabbed one shot, pinched the lime, and tossed back the tequila, promptly sucking the lime between your teeth and dropping it into the empty shot glass. "That's my girl," Izara says, clapping.

The five-minute breaks last a lot longer than five minutes. Your poor sister was utterly unaware that she was cock-blocking. She and Shuri were having a casual conversation about who knows. You weren't paying attention. Maybe she senses you getting restless beside her, but you feel a hand rest on your leg. Shuri continues to converse with Izara while her fingertips brush your left thigh. You let out a sharp, deep breath before composing yourself. The soft touch riles you up. Shuri taunts you by not moving her hand any higher. She rests it there, stroking your skin, knowing it’s driving you crazy.

Shuri is winning this game you're playing together, but you have a plan.

When your sister returns to the main level, she attempts to get you to accompany her, and you make up an excuse, promising to do so after you use the restroom. When you and Shuri are alone again, you slap her hand and glare at her. “You should move your hand if you’re going to start something you can’t finish. I’m not in the mood to be teased.”

As you get up to leave, you grab a second shot, downing it before smiling. It's a mind-numbing high that blocks all of your feelings except lust. "I'll be really upset if this night doesn't end with me in your bed." You whisper, walking away, not bothering to wait for Shuri’s reaction. There was no point in playing games when you wanted her, and she clearly wanted you. That’s why you knew she would follow you.

The bathroom is located down a dim corridor with purple fluorescent lights. You're walking down the hall when you hear quick footsteps behind you. A hand catches your waist, pressing you against a solid body. Away from prying eyes, Shuri holds you against her, moving your hair to expose the side of your neck, “Do you want to dance with me after?” She speaks with hushed tones.

Mission completed.

You shook your head and turned to face her. "I wasn't here to dance." Dancing was a waste of time because neither of you wanted to do it. Every second more you spent in this club was a moment wasted when she could be inside of you.

Shuri paused for a moment, her eyes clouded with longing. "You realize what you're asking of me." Your mind wanders to Izara. All the red flags were flying in your head. This was your sister's closest friend and her most recent boss. Shuri felt off-limits for some reason. But you swiftly block out all of that.

“Don’t complicate things. I wouldn’t be here asking you to bring me home and fuck me in the middle of a club if I didn’t,” you said. You've teased and flirted with the Queen all night, and now nothing stops you from ending the night in bed with her. “No kissing, no intimacy, it’s just sex.” You assure her.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp as Shuri thrusts back inside, making your body tremble in response. It’s one of the many compliments you’ve given her through the night as she takes you further into euphoric bliss.

Maybe it's because you haven't had sex in what seems like an eternity, but the slide in feels like heaven. The first thrust has you seeing stars, and every move since then has you letting out an endless stream of moans. You were on your knees, Shuri kneeling behind you, going at unrelenting speed.

You're both high on adrenaline and lust, making your body hum and your head spin—sweaty bodies work together as your heartbeats syncopate in a rhythmic acceleration. You can't recall the last time you felt so attuned to another person, so alive.

Her hands are all over you, one of her arms reaching from behind to support your upper body, cupping your chest while her fingers tease your nipple. You figure the mind of a genius is used to focusing on multiple things at once because despite her fast thrust, the fingers on Shuri’s other hand stroke along your clit, gently knowing what you need, where to touch you, and how to touch you.

“Harder, harder- fuck, don’t stop.” You reach around to find Shuri’s hips and hold them, following her movements in an attempt to feel her closer. “Such a bossy girl.” Shuri pants but drives into you with more force.

She eventually removes the arm that has been holding you up and pushing you forward. At this angle, she's hitting the spot inside you that has you unable to speak, trapped in an endless repeat of pleasure as the sensation causes your skin to prickle.

Collapsing onto the bed, you cushion your head on the pillow, and your back arches beautifully. “Fuck Shuri. C-close,” you stutter, your voice weakly coming out between your pants. The way Shuri was easily manipulating your body to take her deeper made you want to scream. "I can't wait to see you come looking for me." Shuri breathes and snaps her hips.

"You're going to look gorgeous." She goes on, talking you through it. "Should take a picture and put it on the front cover of every magazine. Everyone can see how pretty you are when you’re getting fucked so good.”

Shuri's comments fill your head with filthy thoughts, even though you've never considered yourself an exhibitionist. Imagine one of the world's most famous models being railed by the Queen of Wakanda on a magazine cover. You two are certainly an obscene sight. “Should I let everybody see what a good girl you are, or is this only for me?”

"Only you," you answer thoughtlessly. Your mind was only centered on pleasure now. As you inhale sharply, the heat inside of you grows, and your body is frozen in ecstasy. Your eyes slip back as your stomach muscles contract in anticipation of eventually feeling that relief. Your eyes widen, your brows rise, your breath stutters, and your eyes close tightly. So tight, and you’re coming. It's quiet for a few moments, and then you're screaming Shuri's name, your voice breaking, your nails sinking into the covers.

As you move your hips back, little gasps escape your lips. “You’re perfect. It feels so good. Want to keep fucking you.” Her words and tone are desperate as she pants, grinding into you, using the friction and pressure to reach her orgasm. You could get off just from the sound of her moans alone.

When Shuri pulls out, you fall into the satin sheets and turn over, sticky and satisfied, staring at the ceiling. You take a few moments to collect your breath and come down from your climax. You sense the bed shifting as Shuri fades from view.

On shaky legs, you stand up to scan the room for your belongings. There was no need for closeness or caressing. Both of you agreed to just sex, and you needed to get home as soon as possible. Your top is lying right in front of the door. That was the first thing to go.

“I’ll have a member of the Dora escort you home.” Shuri comes back into the room from the bathroom, a tee shirt and boxers on now while you’re still struggling to locate your underwear.

“Are you crazy?” You pull the straps of your top on your shoulders and try to situate your breast inside. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You whisper-shout. The reality was settling in now that the fire inside you had been put out. Izara would most likely interrogate you in the morning, thinking you went home with someone and you had time to think of a lie once you were home.

“Imagine going to my mother's house with the Dora Milaje. - have you seen my panties?” Her head wanders sideways, and you follow her gaze to discover your underwear on top of the lampshade on the bedside table.

They undoubtedly landed there in her haste to strip you naked. Shuri takes them and hands them to you. "You're so messy," you mutter as you take them from her, leaning down to slip them on.

"You weren't complaining," Shuri chuckles. There goes that smug tone.

Before leaving, you get dressed, put on your heels, and turn to Shuri. “This never happened. I was never here." You're both consenting adults, but having your sister in the mix complicates the situation. It was acceptable for the one time you both received much-needed relief, but it couldn't happen again for the sake of preserving normalcy. The elder remains silent. "Did you hear what I said?"

A confused sound leaves her lips. “I can’t hear anything. I'm here by myself.”

You roll your eyes and walk out the door. That’s the end of that.

When you’re showered in bed and reflecting on tonight‘s activities, it's later when your kimoyo beads ring.

It’s Shuri.

“Yes?” you answer, ensuring not to disturb your mom. It was late.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” you knew her concern was genuine because Izara would never forgive her if something happened to you.

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”

She hesitates for a second, staring at you in contemplation before asking, “So, are we going to talk about it?” There’s humor in her voice.

Not this. “Didn’t we agree that I wasn’t with you?”

"I'm not addressing that," Shuri responds immediately. "There is something far more intriguing on your lower back," she taunts, winking.

Your lips form an unconscious gasp. “Shut up!” The first and only tattoo you’ve ever received was in Paris after your first fashion week. You and a few other models get tattoos while feeling celebratory and possibly under the influence of a bit too much champagne. A tribal butterfly is permanently affixed to the center of your lower back. "No, we can't discuss it since you've never seen it." You remind her of this, your face heated. You can't believe you overlooked that.

"I completely understand." She responds, but the way she looks at you and bites her lip suggests otherwise.

Everything about her was enticing. You decide to end the call, “Goodnight, Shuri.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You went to bed vowing never to do it again, a commitment tainted by dishonesty because it happened again.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Because I had headcanon that Color is Autistic and has developed special interests in things such as photography, travel, maybe even things like social advocacy.

Maybe even philosophy and psychology. For now, in this posts, I’ll focus on the big two: photography and traveling. (I will also touch on how Color’s physical disability, chronic fatigue, his autism, and perhaps his ptsd/ separation anxiety from Killer also effect his ability to engage in his interests in another post.)

I think he’d develop some decent if not above average technical knowledge, such as camera types and functions. Detailed understanding of different types of cameras (DSLR, mirrorless, point-and-shoot, medium format, etc.) and their specific functions.

Knowledge about various lenses (prime, zoom, wide-angle, telephoto, macro) and their applications. Mastery of camera settings like ISO, aperture, shutter speed, and how to manipulate them for different lighting conditions and artistic effects.

In-depth understanding of how aperture, shutter speed, and ISO interact to create a properly exposed photograph. Proficiency in using software like Adobe Lightroom, Photoshop, or other photo editing tools for post-processing and enhancing images.

He’d learn about artistic elements such as composition techniques, lighten and color theory. Develop a familiarity with compositional rules like the rule of thirds, leading lines, framing, symmetry, and how to creatively break these rules.

Knowledge about natural and artificial lighting, how to use light to create mood and depth, and techniques like backlighting, side lighting, and using reflectors. Understanding of how colors interact, complementary colors, and how to use color to convey emotion and direct viewer attention.

Awareness of different photography styles (portrait, landscape, macro, street, documentary, astrophotography, etc.) and genres, and what makes each unique.

Knowledge about influential photographers and their work, such as Ansel Adams, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Annie Leibovitz, and contemporary photographers.

Understanding the evolution of photography, from daguerreotypes to digital photography, and significant milestones in the field. Awareness of current trends in photography, popular styles, and emerging technologies.

And, of course, he’d develop and grow practical experiences and hands on practice. Experience with on-location shoots, managing different weather conditions, and adapting to various shooting environments.

Knowledge about how to properly maintain and clean camera equipment to ensure longevity and optimal performance. Skills in troubleshooting common issues like lens flare, sensor dust, or focus problems.

He’d have a deep enthusiasm for specific techniques or subjects he enjoys photographing, whichever or whatever you all think those could be exactly.

Likely to have personal photography projects, well-organized portfolios, and possibly an online presence showcasing their work. Extensive collection of books, articles, videos, and tutorials related to photography.

A special interest in traveling, in addition to photography, would manifest in the character in several ways, showcasing their passion and extensive knowledge about various aspects of travel. Here are some specific aspects:

For his interest in travel, he’d be very well versed in the planning and research process. Color might create comprehensive travel itineraries, meticulously planning each day's activities, routes, and schedules.

He might gradually develop an extensive knowledge about various travel destinations, including historical sites, natural landmarks, cultural attractions, and lesser-known gems.

He’d display a proficiency in booking flights, accommodations, and transportation, as well as understanding visa requirements, travel insurance, and local regulations.

An expertise in packing efficiently, knowing what to bring for different climates and activities, and how to pack photography gear safely for travel. Color is likely to show a very deep and profound appreciation for different cultures, learning basic phrases or even fluency in multiple languages to better communicate while traveling.

He’d definitely show a deep interest in trying and understanding local cuisines, knowing popular dishes, and even recipes from various regions. He’d have at least some knowledge about local customs, traditions, festivals, and etiquette to respect and immerse themselves in different cultures.

He’d certainly develop some geographical and historical knowledge, with a detailed understanding of world geography, maps, and the ability to navigate using traditional maps as well as digital tools.

Knowledge about the history of the places he visits, including significant events, historical figures, and the cultural evolution of the region.

He might maintain detailed travel logs or journals documenting his experiences, including photos, notes, and personal reflections. He’d definitely collect souvenirs, postcards, or other memorabilia from his travels; often gifting them to beloved friends.

He’d probably engage with travel communities, forums, and social media groups to share experiences and gain insights.

This special interest would possibly lead to him gaining a lot of practical skills, such as in budget management. Expertise in budgeting for travel, finding deals, and managing expenses effectively.

He might display an ability to adapt to different environments, handle unexpected situations, and problem-solve while on the go.

Although it’d probably be harder for him than most, particularly if he has a harder time handling and dealing with change—especially if the change is unexpected and unplanned.

Knowledge about staying healthy while traveling, such as understanding local healthcare options, vaccinations, and travel safety tips.

He’d like combine both interests by using his photography skills to capture stunning images of the places he visits, creating travel blogs or photo albums to document his journeys.

He might create photo essays or visual stories that capture the essence of the cultures and places he explores. Share his travel experiences and recommendations with others, possibly through writing travel guides, blogs, or social media content.

All this is to say that Killer would definitely encourage Color to come with him to explore abandoned places and ghost towns, and Color’s going to be so overjoyed he starts hand flapping. He’s going to take so many pictures, he’s going to remember it forever.