#the experience of having what could be called a homosexual experience but

[shenachigans]

THE KEY TO HER HEART | Cassandra Kiramman

PAIRING: Cassandra Kiramman x Fem!Reader

CW: angst with a hopeful ending?, spoilers for season 2 act I, canon divergence, in Caitlyn’s pov, no dialogues (except one), mentions of death, mentions of reader being married to a man and having children with said man, mentions of pregnancy, mentions and implications of being in the hospital deathbed, tragic-ish love, 1950s Hollywood inspired in terms of homosexuality-ish, mentions of homophobia, back in the old day women are expected to marry a man, they kept their love for each other hidden until the end, reader is also a matriarch of her own family like Cassandra, most likely ooc Cassandra and Caitlyn

SUMMARY: Caitlyn receives the Kiramman Key to unlock knowledge privy to the Kiramman matriarchs. She also unlocks a memoir of her mother’s past, specifically with the person she loved the most through old photographs and unsent letters.

A/N: I realized a lot of my published work is composed of the “letter narrative” as I call it and this one has a bunch. It’s similar to my first Cassandra fanfic, the only difference is there’s death and grief involved. I have yet to finish the season, but her funeral and the memorial were hard to watch. I miss her so much. 

A/N (12/11/24): Reading it while listening to “I Can’t Hear It Now” by Freya Ridings/Arcane on loop is a whole other experience...

WORDS: 2,669

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

When her father handed her the Kiramman Key her mother wanted her to have, Caitlyn knew she was truly gone. She was now the leader of House Kiramman too soon, without the guidance of her mother, Cassandra. It was a position she deemed unworthy of, but her mother reassured her of the merit of her birthright. Only when she thought her relationship with her mother would progress, the world decided to strip that opportunity from her. 

Filled with grief, loss, and vengeance, especially after the attack at the memorial, Caitlyn decided to view what her mother had in store for her. First, it was the presentation of the ducts, the toxic air in the fissures contained by her mother’s instructions, allowing the people of The Undercity to breathe. She could use the passageways of the ventilation system and the Grey to locate Jinx, dismantle Shimmer, and neutralize any agents still loyal to Silco. Second, was a drawer of letters and photographs in a compartment at the bottom of the desk. It had nothing to do with the Kiramman Clan, but something to do with her mother’s personal life when she was younger.

The drawer seemed to be a memoir, maybe something left to be forgotten as dust covered its contents. Everything was held together with twine, completed with a battered tag, showing how old the letters and photographs were — possibly older than Caitlyn herself. She gently grabbed the bundle of memories in her hands, flipping the tag over to see what was written, the ink smudged by droplets. It wrote: My old love, in Cassandra’s handwriting. Her mother had a lover? 

Caitlyn swore her breath hitched when she untangled the twine to reveal the secrets Cassandra carried. She wanted to see who her mother loved so much, that she had a collection of their time together, but she wasn’t expecting several photographs of you to appear. After all, you were her mother’s childhood friend, her closest companion and confidant. 

It was clear in Caitlyn’s eyes that you two had a platonic relationship. Did she read it wrong? She saw you as an aunt, a second mother beside Cassandra; she never realized that her mother loved you romantically. This doesn’t make sense. You had a husband and children of your own, just like her mother. You and Cassandra would get together and gossip about your spouses and children. She had proof, she had accompanied you two when she was a little girl on several occasions. What did Caitlyn miss? What was kept hidden?

Did her mother love you more than her own husband? What about you? Did you love Cassandra too? Caitlyn flickered through the photographs, putting the letters aside for later, it was clear her mother was devoted to you. She never imagined her mother would ever use a camera to capture your beauty throughout your shared life. It felt uncharacteristic of her to do so, to have her mother be deeply in love with someone other than her father. 

Now that she thought about it. It seemed like Cassandra changed when you passed away. Gone was the warmth she wore on her sleeves as she became distant and even more stubborn, pretentious, and selfish, perfecting her façade as a politician. She now realized how her mother tried to tone down her grief during your burial, to appear as if she only lost a good friend. Caitlyn was too entangled in her own emotions of also losing you to realize how deeply your sudden death affected her mother. She was still too young to comprehend how you died, Cassandra never told her. It was too painful to recount.

Maybe all this time, Cassandra was still grieving your loss till the day she died, having failed to protect you and prevent your death, so much so that her efforts were transferred onto Caitlyn so she could avoid the same fate. She started to understand her mother’s actions a little more, not that she condoned them after the seclusion and restriction she felt all her life. Her mother meant well, even if it hurt. Cassandra didn’t want to lose Caitlyn as she lost you.

After observing each photograph, soon came the letters. Caitlyn skimmed from the oldest letter at the bottom pile to the newer ones at the top. These words were never meant to see the light of day, never meant for someone else to see, especially not you or an outsider like Caitlyn. She can’t believe how raw the emotions she felt from her mother’s words. Caitlyn cannot do justice to her mother’s letters by explaining their contents. You simply had to read them to feel Cassandra’s love for you, but you were gone, unaware that your dearest friend saw you as her whole world even if she could not display her heart at her sleeves due to the societal expectations in the past.

Caitlyn saw smears of ink in many places, making it hard for her to comprehend the smudged words, but she knew her mother cried writing and possibly reading them. These letters were a diary, a collection of paper with words akin to a symphony of her love for you. Caitlyn wondered if you were aware of Cassandra’s feelings and simply did not comment on it, or if you and her mother shared the same situation, loving each other in the shadows as your respective families were in the spotlight of attention.

Was writing letters something Cassandra did in her free time? Because there were so many, it would take Caitlyn some time to skim through all of them. It felt like an invasion of privacy, but maybe her mother wanted someone to know her feelings unless this parcel was supposed to be discarded before Caitlyn took over as the Kiramman Clan Matriarch. Still, Caitlyn couldn’t help but go through it, you meant a lot to her too, and she felt the connection between you two that had faded since your death years ago. The world had taken you and her mother too early, Caitlyn only had her father left, hoping his grief for Cassandra wouldn’t make his life wither and leave her too. 

The letters started with Cassandra realizing she loved you; appreciating your beauty from inside and out. She expressed in detail the moment she knew she was in love, from how her heart threatened to beat out of her chest as your hair blew in the wind, the purple petals from the grand ivory-barked tree swayed with you. Caitlyn recognized it was the sacred place she and her mother shared near the fountain on the outskirts of the city, a place where they never argued and remembered your presence together.

“...We went to the place you enjoyed the most, Y/n. I came to share your love for this park because you were always there with me. I never thought you would take my breath away like you had today. You were beautiful, you have always been. 

Today felt different, however. The sight before me was something that came out of books. The wind picked up and your hair danced with the purple petals that floated around you. Your smile directed at me made it seem like I was in a fairytale my mother used to tell me as a child. It was a sight to behold, and I knew then and there, that I had fallen in love with you...”

The following letters were short, but filled with admiration and love. Cassandra appreciated you in many ways Caitlyn never knew in each letter, expressing her appreciation for everything you did, your character, appearance, and how you treated her. Her mother was so youthful, so happy whenever she was with you. It broke Caitlyn’s heart when the letters started to take on another tone; one of loss and hopelessness.

“...Why must society be this way, my love? Why am I prohibited from loving you the way you deserve? I am shackled by these expectations placed upon me, and I’m ashamed that I have to hide in the dark to be able to express my love. I’m a coward for not throwing everything away so I could love you publicly. I wish to have you by my side, to call you my lover, my beloved wife, without the consequences of society. I was overjoyed when I realized you loved me too, but it pained me that you were also hiding your love. You were as careful as I was with concealing how we felt for each other. Do you know that I love you too? I wish for you to know, but I’m scared of putting you in danger.

I wouldn’t know of your feelings if not for the day my parents announced my engagement. You had shown a crack of your true self from your poised façade. It pained me to see the sullen expression on your face. You tried to hide your turmoil, but I knew the news broke you as much as it did me. I wanted to cup your face and hold you in my embrace, to feel your warmth against mine as I whispered words of love, saying that we would still have each other as our duties befall us. 

I wanted to kiss your troubles away, but I did not let myself get carried away with such intimacy. Any hint of something more as friendship in anyone’s eyes would lead to forced separation… I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry, Y/n, but I need to build distance between us to avoid suspicion. Please forgive me… I despise myself for being powerless to protect you from the pain I would cause you…”

Caitlyn read the following letters, Cassandra expressed her guilt for keeping you at arm's length when all she wanted was to have all of you, to be with you the way you both wanted, but such a thing never happened when the two of you started your own families. She apologized in many letters as she realized how you started to pull away from her. Caitlyn tried her best to decipher the smudged words that filled the loose paper. Her mother didn’t want this, didn’t want to pretend she felt nothing for you other than a platonic friendship, that she didn’t love you. It was cruel. 

There was a large time gap between the letters. Caitlyn decided that her mother tried to focus on her duties as the Kiramman Matriarch and her relationship with Tobias by severing her attachments to the letters. Cassandra must’ve been carrying Caitlyn somewhere during this time, not wanting the memory of your relationship with her to cause stress and emotional turmoil during her months of pregnancy. 

The letter that followed was something close to reconciliation even if the distance was still there. You and Cassandra must’ve accepted the fate of your separated lives and decided to continue what was remaining of your friendship. Caitlyn was surprised she was the catalyst of this event. 

“...I was nervous about meeting you again after months of no contact, Y/n. I didn’t know what to expect after you distanced yourself from me. I still remember the pained expression on your face when I told you we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I never hated myself so much for being the cause of your pain. I have never done anything but hurt you. So, I was in disbelief when you easily agreed to the invitation I sent out of the blue to meet Caitlyn. 

You must’ve laughed at my audacity for wanting you back after pushing you out of my life, that you only agreed to this because your kind husband convinced you so. I hate to say I’m relieved you have wedded a respectful man. I know you are safe in his hands when I can’t be there to do the same. 

I was faced with an impassive demeanor when you arrived at the Kiramman residence, and I didn’t know if our friendship could be salvaged, but when you held Caitlyn, I saw a glimmer of love shine in your eyes. The smile that broke from your façade when you cradled my daughter with so much care made my heart swell at the sight. Then you met my gaze, and it felt like that day in the park all over again. I knew I was still in love with you, and you felt the same, even as our love dwelled in pain and loss because of the world we live in…”

The last letter on the pile was tattered compared to the other ones. It was difficult to understand because of the ink smudges, shaky handwriting, and teardrops… Caitlyn knew what this letter was about and could see how her mother struggled to write this one. The unshakeable grief that filled this page hurt Caitlyn. This must’ve been the fork Cassandra faced when she decided that writing more letters would only cause her more pain than solace as she thought about you.

“...I failed you, my love. I failed to protect you from your curiosity and compassion for The Undercity. The world was too cruel to take you from me, our relationship had only begun to blossom its fruits. The time we spent rebuilding what was lost… How could I sleep at night, knowing I could’ve prevented your death? I will never be able to live with the guilt of hurting you even until your last breath. 

I should’ve listened to you, I should’ve been more open-minded about creating the ventilation system for people of the fissures. Was this the world’s response to my selfishness, to take you away from me? I feel so empty without you, the grief is tearing away at me. I couldn’t bear hearing Caitlyn’s cries when I told her you would no longer be with us to spoil her, to love her like your own. 

Everything that happened to you is all my fault. No amount of apologies would bring you back, but I am so sorry, Y/n. The Grey I could’ve contained with my influence and resources ate at your life, poisoned your lungs, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

It tore at my heart to see you fighting for your life, hooked to machines, but everything was a lost cause when the grip of your hand on mine loosened and lay limp between my own. Your eyes became distant and empty as the light in them faded, but you still held the smile I fell in love with, muttering the words I longed to hear for decades: ‘I love you, Cassandra.’ I couldn’t respond in time, I failed to say that I love you too… because you were already gone… 

I promise I will let the people of The Undercity breathe, just as you had wished, my love…”

Caitlyn now understood why her mother completed the project. She did it for you. It was a grand and equally dangerous project that took many lives and resources to complete, and here Caitlyn was, planning to unleash the gas that killed you to look for a criminal who killed her mother and many others. 

After reading the letters, Caitlyn wondered several things. Would her mother be happy again, now that she has reunited with you in the afterlife? Would she be able to express her love after hiding her true feelings for you for so long? Caitlyn hopes she can because she knows how much her mother was alive when you were around, even in moments of joy and sadness. She wanted her mother to be happy again despite the pain in her heart that she was no longer there with her and her father.

.

.

.

Meanwhile…

“I finally got to see you again, my love… Oh, how I missed you so… My life was never the same when you left… I can’t believe you’re back in my life… and in my arms… I love you too, Y/n… I love you so, so much, dearest.”

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

[iwtv-theories]

Daniel Molloy's sexuality (analysis/head-cannon)

I know a lot of people assume Daniel is bi/pan : like Lestat, Claudia, Madeleine, Armand, Santiago, and even book -Daniel. But honestly... I sometimes wonder if he might be like Louis (who was gay ,closeted, and in denial). Frankly, I think both interpretations are possible (but I’m leaning toward gay ).

Not going to lie , as messed up as ep 5 was for poor Daniel, I can’t get over how savage Armand was with alluding to Daniel being in the closet. He read him to filth so subtly 😅. Armand says one thing but the subtext is practically being thrown into poor Daniel’s face (when he was still trying to rationalize that he only sold himself to men for a fix).

Oh , “In middle school, you stole your dad’s playboy magazines and sold them at recess” (why didn’t you keep any of them ? Did you not enjoy them as much as your father and the other boys ?) “In high school, you told a girl you’d only do her if she had a paper bag over her head. “ (why is that Daniel? Is there a pattern here?). If you marry a woman your thrust game will be weak as hell (and of course YOU won’t be able to satisfy her) .

Daniel literally closes his eyes whenever Armand mentions him being an inadequate lover to a woman. He can’t even look him in the eye (cause deep down it’s probably one of his biggest insecurities ).

Armand also mentions that if Daniel had a nuclear family: he , his wife, and his kids would all be miserable (and he’d end up just mirroring his parent’s dysfunctional relationship and be with a woman that reminds him of his ‘mother'). Armand literally listened to the audio tape where Daniel compared marriage to “cancer” and said gay Louis (who essentially married Lestat at the altar) “had a ticket out” of that "shit". Armand really tried to convince him to “have a way out” of traditional heterosexual marriage (via death). Armand was brutal for that one…

Daniel to Louis : “Did you come to San Francisco because it was a hub for homophiles?” Projection! In ep 5, Louis even angrily yelled in the present that Daniel was a “homophile.” Not like , Louis hasn’t alluded to Daniel's sexuality before. Daniel was a regular at the gay bar and had a tab there , and the bartender knew him by name. Daniel says it was just to “score” but that’s both slang for drugs and sex (a Freudian slip?) He sold himself for drugs and partially used it as an excuse to be with men. Oh, I did it for a fix , I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t high. Yes , he’s addicted but I don’t think he was simply “struggling “ with JUST his addiction but his sexuality as well. He used the drugs as an excuse : “I did what I had to do.” Louis’ words about denying his sexuality could also reflect Daniel's feelings in the 70s as well (only difference is , Daniel doesn't appear to accept his sexuality like Louis eventually did). "It bears repeating , I did not consider myself a homosexual man at the time. I mean, I had experiences. Guilt -shame. Floating on a sea with vodka type encounters. Obviously, I’ve come to embrace my sexuality. of course, you know that we met at a gay bar, didn't we Daniel? Did you marry?/ "Twice. But we're not here to talk about me, are we?" (Intentional or not, It really feels like Louis is low key calling him out and Daniel knows it...)

Heck , even this scene is a possible visual parallel between closeted Louis & (maybe?) closeted Daniel.

Louis denying his sexuality via: "A lie that I told myself about myself, that I was a red blooded son of the south/ “ (The gay bar) was a good place to score . I did what I had to do… I wanted drugs… I'm just a shitty little kid from Modesto."

In middle school Daniel “bartered with desire” by selling playboy magazines to boys (magazines he didn’t ‘desire’ to keep for himself).But he later ‘barters himself to men’ because that’s what HE actually ‘desired’: men , not women like the ones from the magazines.

The fact Daniel uses "homophile" is also VERY telling about his true desires. "The homophile movement was a collective term for organizations and publications supporting and representing sexual minorities in the 1950s to 1960s. Proponents of the term 'homophile' hoped to emphasize the romantic rather than sexual aspect of same-sex relationships by replacing the -"sexual" suffix with the Greek root "philos," meaning LOVE.” Daniel (probably) deep down wanted "love" from a man , but only acted on his sexual desires (where there was no emotional intimacy and it could be more easily dismissed).

Also, Armand to Daniel : oh you Interviewed a sex worker and a happy gay couple who lived in a famous gay neighborhood. “Are you trying to find some ineffable truth “ ? (cough about yourself ). "Ineffability : is the quality of something that surpasses the capacity of language to express it , often being in the form of a TABOO or something incomprehensible”. Daniel, he’s dragging you !

Armand sifted through his mind , he probably figured all this out . Armand’s monologue to Daniel emulates the “to be LOVED by death” scene: where Santiago initially sifts through the victim's mind, then kissed her and called her a “bride “ before feeding on her. Armand before bitting Daniel, pretends to be death, caresses his cheek and whispers in his ear, “come, I’ll hold you.” He may know about Daniel’s desires ( which were probably intimacy from a man, like that gay couple he interviewed). All the drug -fueled hookups probably had no gentle words, caresses, or emotional intimacy. The symbolic insanity .

If past d.m did happen - it was probably his first “romantic “ relationship with a man. And also possibly the only time he was with a man sexually (while sober). Of course if that (more than a decade's long relationship) was erased - he’d be able to rationalize that he was just with men cause he needed a high, experimenting, etc. And , if he’s mixing up Alice and Armand in his head due to “mind -fuckery” then yeah… that could also affect how he perceives his sexuality. Of course , he could have loved Alice and just be bi (and still in denial about his queer identity ).

Daniel's opinion on his own sexuality (whether bi or gay) is hard to pinpoint. On one hand , you'd think he would accept himself if he was aware of historical queer liberation movements. And he reported on the Aids crisis in the 80s when most reporters wouldn't have discussed it . But then again he could have been dating Armand when reporting about it. Or (even if he wasn’t, and was still in denial about his sexuality) he may have still wanted to report about it given the fact guys like him : drug users, male sex workers were most suseptible to the disease, and also heavily demonized for it . And he maybe even had friends affected by the disease. Daniel is rough around the edges but he does care about “those who fall through the cracks” (and are discarded by society). So even if he tried to rationalize that he was an ally who just did what he needed to do for a fix - I could still see him care about the ‘cause’ .He even mentioned the aids crisis in his promo video.

Young Daniel wrote multiple essays (that eventually were published into a book) all about karposi sarcoma (a cancer that was first discovered among aids patients). It might have scared him so much that he chose the 'figurative cancer (marriage)’ over fear of developing 'actual cancer’ (and accepting his sexuality). Which could be one of MANY reasons all his marriages fell apart.

Devil’s advocate: It’s possible Daniel just avoids references to his own queer identity because he doesn’t want his own business being brought up , and interfering with the interview. But …

Daniel may ‘pull a Louis’, and only admit he's queer post- vampirism. Daniel:" I love that man... that was Louis de pointe du lac just now making his fangs (dramatic pause) "come out." Louis about becoming a vampire: “Death, rebirth, coming out…a lot of firsts.” Daniel: "Coming out? How's sexuality play in that?"

I could definitely see vampirism being the catalyst for Daniel accepting his sexual identity .

[twopoppies]

i really appreciate the way you answer questions about larry history. it’s so important that these stories aren’t lost.

but i did want to take issue with one part of the fimq story. ellie’s videos were great, but the one that caused antis to come for her did cross several lines from my pov. she used footage of actual holocaust victims wearing the pink triangle.

she didn’t apologize and she took her own videos private. i think it’s important we tell the whole story https://fanlore.org/wiki/Freddieismyqueen

Hi, love. She used those clips as part of a video called Louis the Brave in order to connect Louis' triangle tattoo to its context (the pink triangle used to label homosexuals during the Holocaust. It's long been a reclaimed symbol for the gay community). IMO, there was nothing to apologize for, and that is the whole story.

There are a huge number of extremely uneducated and volatile people in this fandom who will jump on literally anything without taking a minute to breathe and proclaim it "problematic." To think that she was saying Louis' situation compares to someone imprisoned during the Holocaust is just the height of stupidity.

Antis hated her. And they jumped on the first thing they could that gave them a little traction (see previous: unedicated and volatile). They whipped people into a frenzy about absolutely nothing. Maybe it was shocking to someone to see that clip. But art is sometimes shocking. And you'd be surprised how people have no idea why the triangle is so meaningful to queer people. What I remember is people feeling morally outraged by something that they fundamentally didn't understand and then, as per usual, they got really loud about it.

Here are some comments worth reading (as opposed to the fandom wiki you link to, which, in my experience, is HEAVILY biased against larries):

This This This (as an example of the bullshit lies antis spread)

I'd watch the video in question before making assumptions. And if you feel offended, that's okay. That's your right. But Ellie also had the right to make her art. And absolutely NO ONE had the right to threaten and scare her so badly that she left the fandom. Even if they wanted an apology for something.

[whencyclopedia]

Eyewitness Accounts of the Holocaust

The Holocaust was the murder of 6 million Jewish people by the SS, Gestapo, and other organisations of Nazi Germany and its allies in the years prior to and through the Second World War (1939-45). Innocent men, women, and children were shot in mass executions, or, if not too young or too old, they were sent to labour camps where they worked until they could do so no longer. The ultimate fate of millions was to die in the gas chambers of extermination camps like Auschwitz in occupied Poland.

In this article, accounts are presented by those who witnessed the Holocaust genocide firsthand, both its victims and those involved in its execution who were obliged to give evidence in, for example, the post-war Nuremberg trials of 1945-6.

Unburied Corpses, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

Wislon-Oakes - Imperial War Museums (CC BY-NC-SA)

The Nazis & the Jews

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945) established himself as the dictator of Nazi Germany in 1933, and he identified Jewish people as the main enemy of the state. Based on dubious and inconsistent racial theory as propounded by such Nazi figures as Alfred Rosenberg (1893-1946), Hitler and the Nazi Party began a propaganda campaign against German Jews, which presented them as an inferior race who were holding Germany back from achieving its full economic potential.

Hitler wanted to remove all Jews from German territory, but the first step was to identify who exactly was a Jew. The 1935 Nuremberg Laws loosely identified Jews since even having a single Jewish grandparent placed an individual in that category. A series of 'solutions' to what Hitler called the "Jewish problem" were rolled out, such as encouraging emigration and persecuting Jewish business owners. Jews were then attacked in such pogroms as the Kristallnacht of November 1938. Next, Jews were rounded up and obliged to live in segregated areas such as ghettos in cities or in concentration camps. Jews were deprived of citizenship and other basic rights.

From 1942, the Nazis began what was secretly described as the 'Final Solution', that is the plan to murder all European Jews. Jews were transported to labour camps where they worked on state projects until they died from disease, extreme malnutrition, or physical exhaustion. Other Jews, and those who could no longer work or were too young or too old to work, were transported directly to death camps like the Auschwitz-Birkenau complex in occupied Poland where they were killed in gas chambers and their remains were communally cremated. Jews were not the only victims since the Nazis also targeted Romani people, Communists, Jehovah's Witnesses, Freemasons, homosexuals, political rivals, prisoners of war, and those with physical or mental disabilities, amongst others. In addition, hundreds of thousands more victims were murdered in mass executions in occupied territories during the Second World War by mobile killing squads known as Einsatzgruppen. The Jews made up by far the majority of those killed, and it is estimated that 6 million died in what is today called the Holocaust. The sheer scale of the Nazis' programme means that determining the precise number of victims is not possible.

Arrested Jews, Baden-Baden

Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-86686-0008 (CC BY-SA)

Hugh Greene, a British newspaper journalist, recalls what he saw of the Kristallnacht in 1938:

I was in Berlin at that time and saw some pretty revolting sights – the destruction of Jewish shops, Jews being arrested and led away, the police standing by while the gangs destroyed the shops and even groups of well-dressed women cheering.

(Holmes, 42)

Avraham Aviel, a Polish Jew and survivor of a mass execution, gives the following account of his experience in May 1942:

We were all brought close to the cemetery at a distance of eighty to a hundred metres from a long, deep pit. Once again everybody was made to kneel. There was no possibility of lifting one's head. I sat more or less in the centre of the town people. I looked in front of me and saw the long pit then maybe groups of twenty, thirty people led to the edge of the pit, undressed probably so that they should not take their valuables with them. They were brought to the edge of the pit where they were shot and fell into the pit, one on top of another.

(Holmes, 319)

An anonymous survivor from a ghetto massacre in Lviv, Ukraine, in August 1942 gives the following description of its aftermath:

I went with my mother to the office of the Jewish community regarding an apartment and there in the light breeze, dangled the corpses of the hanged, their faces blue, their heads tilted backward, their tongues blackened and stretched out. Luxury cars raced in from the center of the city, German civilians with their wives and children came to see the sensational spectacle, and, as was their custom, the visitors enthusiastically photographed the scene. Afterwards the Ukrainians and Poles arrived by with greater modesty.

(Fiedländer, 436)

Nazi Classification of Jewish People

VolksVeritas (CC BY-SA)

Rivka Yoselevska, a Polish Jew, describes her experience and that of her family in the Hansovic ghetto massacre in August 1943:

Some of the younger ones I got out naked covered with blood…I was still alive. Where should I go? What should I do?

(Holmes, 320-1)

The SS lieutenant-colonel Adolf Eichmann (1906-1962), in charge of the Final Solution's transportation requirements, here lies to Jews to make sure they do not create trouble as they are transported by train from a ghetto to the concentration camps:

Jews: You have nothing to worry about. We want only the best for you. You'll leave here shortly and be sent to very fine places indeed. You will work there, your wives will stay at home, and your children will go to school. You will have wonderful lives.

(Bascomb, 6)

The death camps were deliberately located in remote Poland to provide the Final Solution project more secrecy. Rudolf Höss (1901-1947), a camp commandant at Auschwitz, stated:

We were required to carry out these exterminations in secrecy, but of course the foul and nauseating stench from the continuous burning of bodies permeated the entire area and all of the people living in the surrounding communities knew that exterminations were going on at Auschwitz.

(Neville, 49)

New Arrivals at Auschwitz

Bernard Walter (Public Domain)

The typical conditions of the train journeys to the camps are described here by Avraham Kochav, an Auschwitz survivor:

There were twenty to twenty-five cars in every train…I heard terrible cries. I saw how people attack other people so as to have a place to stand, how people push each other so that they could stand somewhere or so that they could have air for breathing. It was terribly, terribly stifling. The first to faint were the children, women, old men, they all fell down like flies.

(Holmes, 332)

Zygmunt Klukowski, a Polish hospital director, describes the train journeys for Jewish people sent to the Belzec extermination camp in occupied Poland:

On the way to Belzec the Jews experience many terrible things. They are aware of what will happen to them. Some try to fight back. At the railroad station in Szczebrzeszyn a young woman gave away a gold ring in exchange for a glass of water for her dying child. In Lublin people witnessed small children being thrown through windows of speeding trains. Many people are shot before reaching Belzec.

(Friedländer, 358)

Yaacov Silberstein, a Jewish teenager, describes his arrival at Auschwitz in October 1942:

When we arrived we saw how the Jews were running to the electrified fence. There they stuck. They were tired of life; they could not continue in this fashion.

(Holmes, 330)

Dr Lucie Adelsberger, a prisoner of Auschwitz, describes the processing of new arrivals destined for the labour camps:

We undressed, had our hair cut – no actually our heads were shaved to stubble; then came the showers and finally the tattoos. This was where they confiscated the very last vestiges of our belongings; nothing remained…no written document that could have identified us, no picture, no written message from a loved one. Our past was cut off, erased…

(Cesarini, 656)

Aerial View of Auschwitz

South African Air Force (Public Domain)

Bernd Naumann, a survivor from the Birkenau camp, describes the prevalence of rats in the camp:

They gnawed not only at corpses but also at the seriously sick. I have pictures showing women near death being bitten by rats.

(Neville, 50)

Seweryna Smaglewska, a prisoner in the Birkenau women's camp, describes the living conditions there:

There were no roads, no paths between the blocks. In the depths of these dark dens, in bunks like multi-storied cages, the feeble light of a candle burning here or there flickered over naked, emaciated figures curled up, blue from the cold, bent over a pile of filthy rags, holding their shaved heads in their hands, picking out an insect with their scraggly fingers and smashing it on the edge of the bunk – that is what the barracks looked like in 1942.

(Cesarini, 528)

The SS, which managed the camps, made sure there was a hierarchy amongst the prisoners such as trustees who survived a little longer than the rest by being 'favoured' with certain duties such as burning the bodies in the crematoriums or beating other prisoners. SS Lance Corporal Richard Bock, a guard at Auschwitz-Birkenau, recalls:

A block chief would call out the kapo very fiercely, 'Kapo, come here.' The kapo came over and – boom – he hit the kapo in the face so hard that he fell over…And then he said, 'Kapo, can't you beat them any better than that?' And the kapo ran off and grabbed a club to beat up the prisoner squad quite indiscriminately. 'Kapo, come over here,' he shouted again. The kapo came and he said, 'Finish them off,' and then he went off again and he finished the prisoners off, he beat them to death…a kapo had to beat and club to save his own life.

(Holmes, 325)

Luggage of Auschwitz Victims

Jorge Láscar (CC BY)

Those meant for the gas chambers were often unaware of their fate. Bock describes the procedure that he witnessed with a colleague called Holbinger who was responsible for the Zyklon B tins that would produce the lethal gas:

…the new arrivals had to get undressed, and then the order came, 'Prepare for disinfection'. There were enormous piles of clothing…Lots of them hid their children under the clothes and covered them up and then they shouted, 'Get ready' and they all went out, they had to run naked approximately twenty yards from the hall across to Bunker One. There were two doors standing open and they went in there and when a certain number had gone inside they shut the doors. That happened about three times, and every time Holbinger had to go out to his ambulance and they took out a sort of tin – he and one of his block chiefs – and then he climbed up the ladder and at the top there was a round hole and he opened the little round door and held the tin there and shook it and then he shut the little door again. Then a fearful screaming started up and approximately after about ten minutes it slowly went quiet…They opened the door…then a blue haze came out. I looked in and I saw a pyramid. They had all climbed up on top of each other…They were all tangled, they had to tug and pull very hard to disentangle all these people.

(Holmes, 334-5)

Dov Paisikowic, a Russian-Jewish survivor of Auschwitz, was part of the team responsible for taking bodies out of the chambers, removing valuables such as rings and gold teeth, and then taking the corpses to the crematoria. He recalls:

…the doors were suddenly opened to the gas chambers. People, naked people, started falling out. We were all frightened, no one dared ask what it all was. We were immediately taken to the other side of this house and there we saw hell on this earth – large piles of dead people, and people dragging these dead to a long pit, about thirty metres in length and ten metres in width. There was a huge fire there, with tree trunks. On the other side fat was being taken out of this pit with a bucket.

(Holmes, 335)

Thousands of detainees in the camps were subjected to unnecessary and often horrific medical operations and experiments. One of the most infamous SS doctors was Josef Mengele (1911-1979), who performed all kinds of macabre operations at Auschwitz. Mengele was, though, only one part of a large SS medical team, which operated in many different camps. Dr Franz Blaha, a Czech detainee at the Dachau concentration camp, was obliged to work in this area of Nazi terror, specifically performing autopsies. Blaha reported:

From the middle of 1941 to the end of 1942 some 500 operations on healthy prisoners were performed. These were for the instructions of the SS medical students and doctors and included operations on the stomach, gall bladder and throat. These were performed by students and doctors of only two years' training, although they were very dangerous and difficult….Many prisoners died on the operating table and many others from later complications…These persons were never volunteers but were forced to submit to such acts.

(MacDonald, 59)

Auschwitz Bunks

Bookofblue (CC BY-SA)

Hertha Beese, a Berlin housewife and underground resistance worker, recalls that, unlike the general public, the resistance network was more informed about the camps. She states:

We knew that the concentration camps existed. We also knew where they existed, for example Oranienburg just outside Berlin. We sometimes knew which of our friends were there and we also knew of the cruelties in them right from the beginning.

(Holmes, 315)

Anthony Eden (1897-1977), British Foreign Secretary during WWII, notes:

…as the war progressed some horrifying reports began to come out. At first it was very difficult to assess their accuracy and they were so horrible it was hard to believe they could be true.

(Holmes, 314)

Wynford Vaughn-Thomas, a British journalist, recalls the conditions of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany when it was liberated in 1945:

In the huts typhoid, everything, had broken out and you couldn't hear yourself speak for the death rattle. There were people lying on top of each other, sick, vomiting, withered bodies crawling on their hands and knees…It was sealed off in this dark north German plain and you felt you'd reached the cesspit of the human mind.

(Holmes, 337)

Mass Grave, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

H. Oakes-Imperial War Museums (Public Domain)

The British Lieutenant Colonel J. A. D. Johnson described what he saw when he arrived at Bergen-Belsen:

The prisoners were a dense mass of emaciated apathetic scarecrows huddled together in wooden huts, and in many cases without beds or blankets, and in some cases without any clothing whatsoever…There were thousands of emaciated corpses in various stages of decomposition lying unburied. Sanitation was to all intents and purposes nonexistent.

(Cesarini, 759)

Hans Stark, Gestapo staff member at Auschwitz, stated, like so many others, that he had merely been following orders:

I took part in the murder of many people…I believed in the Führer, I wanted to serve my people. Today I know that this idea was false. I regret the mistakes of my past, but I cannot undo them.

(Neville, 57)

Rabbi Frankforter, who died in the Holocaust, which Jewish people often call the Shoah or Ha-Shoah in Hebrew, gave this last wish to survivor Yaacov Silberstein:

You are still young and you will remain alive. I have only one request for you that you should never let people forget. Tell everyone what they did to us at this small camp, in Buchenwald. Wherever you go tell this, also to your children so that they should pass it on. To remember and not to forget.

(Holmes, 339)

Continue reading...

[slaaverin]

There are so many wrong things in our fandom. So many wrong things in this company. So much chaos and hate and fights, so many wasted opportunities. ARMY carrying members on their backs. But not all of them. The american dream being just that, a dream that more and more seems out of reach and illusory. International armys being transparent. Inner fights within the company. Oh but *money* remember?

The members trying their best to live their life in between the mayhem and making the best out of their situation. Trying their best to do their jobs, being artists.

*One in an ARMY* is long gone. Chapter 2 made sure to make the divide even wider.

It wasn't always like this. Not in the past.

But now I see ARMYs at the concerts who act like nothing happened and I can't help this bitter feeling in my mouth.

Because we might act like we are one and happy to support BTS but is ARMY truly lifting the members up? Truly lifting each other up? No. Everyone is out for themselves and take pleasure in petty fights, ruining the fandom experience for everyone.

Last night's vote was a perfect example.

Two most successful members ignored and even discouraged to vote for. ARMY didn't see this award worthy you see?

Why is it always jikook?

Oh, maybe because the fandom is filled with tkkers and solos and really, what's left after that?

What is ARMY anymore? But selfish children?

I naively thought we could be better than this. There was a time where being an ARMY meant something.

What saddens me the most is that whatever BTS preached and the message they tried to convey, that's not what people kept. That's not even what matters to them and they certainly weren't inspired by it.

People are motivated by selfishness and hatred and everything BTS are not.

And they are calling themselves fans? What about having some dignity? Do they deserve that title?

BTS taught people to be tolerant but this fandom is far from being tolerant. They collectively hate a pairing just because there's a slight chance they might be homosexual. Imagine that?

It's a fucking joke.

Yes, it's better to ignore all of it, and cater to your fandom experience, and try to have fun nonetheless. But when it's 80% of the fandom that is like this, isn't there something inherently wrong with everything?

When the bullying becomes so intense people refrain from speaking up. There used to be a time where people were afraid of ARMY because we were such a protective and powerful force. Now they are scared simply because people are toxic tyrants who don't care which people they hurt. They don't even care about the members.

You want to be part of this?

There was a time where I was. I felt part of this community because I believed in it.

But look what is has become? It's in ruins.

If I put my optimist hat on, I might say that the reunion will put people back together. That everything will go back to the way it was.

But unfortunately I think that's a sweet dream. Can we go back? I don't think so.

Honestly I don't even care what label I have anymore, or what hate I'm thrown at.

I will keep doing what feels right, and support however I can.

But I can't get behind this community's mentality anymore.

/end of rant

Sorry about this post but last night was the nail on the coffin

[na-na-na-diva]

"they have too much age difference" "it's not a love story" "Oliver doesn't like Elio" "Oliver used Elio" "Elio deserved better" "Oliver is mean, an asshole" etc.

I am sick and tired of hearing the same idiotic comments on cmbyn over and over again . It seems as if it has become fashionable to say this bullshit.

Especially hating the character of Oliver. he is underrated and hated for no reason except because he is played by Armie Hammer. I don't give a shit about the actor, also because Oliver is in the movie, not Armie. That said, Oliver loves Elio, as Elio loves Oliver. As characters they are two completely different worlds. Elio has a family that listens to him and comforts him, while Oliver has a family that gives duties and expectations (like getting married). Elio is less mature and knows himself less than Oliver, Oliver can control his emotions, Elio cannot.

They complement each other. Oliver realizes early on that he has feelings for Elio and tries hard to suppress them because he cannot afford them. His future is already written and he knows it. In fact, he "hides" above the tree looking at the sky to think, or repeatedly turns away from Elio. In the end, he can no longer, because he can't resist what his heart wants. Elio on the other hand always acts on instinct because it is his first homosexual experience for him. Throughout the story Oliver tried to repress himself and Elio tried to understand and discover himself.

Eventually when they go to Bergamo, Oliver is worried from the beginning. He is afraid, a constant fear because he knows he has to leave him in the end. He knows they can't be together. He knows he can't and that he will make Elio suffer. This pain of his is felt, but it always seems that the pain that has the most value is Elio's because he shows it on screen, crying. But it is not only he who is in pain.

In fact, at the end Oliver calls him to tell him that he hasn't forgotten about anything. He will always remember everything he experienced with Elio because it made him feel alive, loved, himself. He hadn't called him earlier because he knew that if he did, he would suffer more, and not only him, Elio as well. Because the greatest pain is when you love that person, that person loves you and you can't see them and have them. You can't.

In the end, however, he could not help but call him to remind Elio, TO HIMSELF that he loves him, that he will love him forever. Elio finally cries in front of the fire all that time not because Oliver "betrayed" him by getting married but because he KNOWS he can't help it. He knows it has to be this way, he knows Oliver loves him and he can't have him. He knows that. And Oliver knows that he had to tell him, he had to make him see reality because yes, that's how it worked in the past. You got married because you had to.

So, it is, in fact, a love story.

Oliver likes Elio. Oliver didn't use Elio, perhaps it was the opposite because Elio “used” Oliver to discover himself.

Elio deserved better, like Oliver. They both deserved better, because they couldn't live their love only for their homosexuality.

Oliver is not mean, is not an asshole.

He's just a underrated character, and I feel bad for him because he's such a complex character, like Elio.

And for the last one, the one with the “age difference problem”. Stop. There is a 7-year age difference. We are not talking about a child with an adult. They are both consenting. There is no violence.

When they had sex for the first time, they both wanted it. After doing it, Elio moves away because he has just discovered himself and is afraid. Oliver even in the movie asks Elio if he had grown tired of him.

There is an age difference like them in a thousand other love stories. Plus when you fall in love with a person, you fall in love not with his age, but with his mind, with his soul. As long as two people consent, I can't see anything wrong.

But so much of these 'critiques' appeared only after the Armie case and since people can't distinguish a factor of reality from a film, they took it up with the film, seeing shit everywhere.

I think it's a revolutionary film, it has helped the queer community a lot. It's a thought-provoking film, about anything. Not only on Elio. Every aspect should be analyzed, but instead people prefer to fixate on the figure of Elio as a “poor victim of a r*pist.”

STOP romanticize Elio ONLY because Timothee Chalamet plays him or because he has the vibe of that type of relatable character who is not understood and who is a victim of the outside world.

People who are like this didn't understand anything and I honestly think it would be better to stop even being called 'fan' of cmbyn.

[charmac]

any thoughts about charlie not going to prom? cause we get dees reasoning but not his.

Based on timing I'm assuming you sent the other ask right before this re Mac going to Prom so I will just muse on the concept of the Gang in high school and the idea of their prom here, if that's okay...

Something I think a lot of the Fandom ignores (or maybe doesn't remember or understand?) is that Mac, Charlie, and Dennis went to an all-boys Catholic school.

Mac and Charlie were losers in high school and basically only friends with each other for the majority of the time (and Dooley and Pete, but yk what I mean). Girls were not only a foreign subject to them, but in a completely foreign place (another school). The mere concept of, like, having a conversation with a teenage girl when they were 15 was off the table. Then, in comes Dennis. He seems to be popular and he calls himself a God when it comes to girls and he seems to have the experience and connections (see: Dee, lol), so that's enough to convince Mac and Charlie that he is one (a God, I mean to say).

I think a high school Mac would have been dick-notised by Dennis' ladies-man facade at first and desperate to rise to his level... mostly to impress him, but also because he was a horny teenage boy who had never even been kissed. But he was a loser, just generally embarrassing and dumb, and had literally no game due to looking 12 years old, so I don't think Dennis was all too eager to actually teach him how to be with girls, more like watch me bang them and learn. In my mind, this attitude results in Mac's eventual want to sleep with Dennis' prom date and his indifference to hurting his feelings over it (of course, I think blaming Tim Murphy and creating a rift between Dennis and his friend group was also an aspect here.. but I digress).

On the other side of the coin you have Charlie. I imagine Dennis' "pull" and attitude toward girls wasn't really something that won him over, but the exposure to girls wasn't a negative. He liked the idea of girls, and the idea of being friends with them, if they were like Dee, didn't seem terrible.. and they were pretty, especially the blond one whose name always escaped Dee...

Ok, all that being established as a general idea (of mine, I suppose lol), let's talk about the idea of the Gang [not] attending prom in high school.

The concept of prom for them, a boys' catholic school in the early 90s, would have been less like a typical public school prom (where the whole graduating class attends as a party together) and more like a formal mixer between the all-girls sister school (Dee's). Girls get asked out / show off their catholic boyfriends, while the concept of "going stag" was loser-ish or sleazy.. which makes perfect sense for Mac.

In my mind, Charlie may have been interested in going to prom with a certain girl, but Dee wouldn't introduce them and, honestly, getting high in the basement seemed like a better idea than approaching her himself (alternatively, he tried and retreated to the basement to get high). Mac definitely wanted to go to prom, though, probably worked hard to convince any girl to go with him, but he was/is the worst so literally no one was interested (and Dennis wasn't too keen to help him find someone). I imagine in the end he tried to convince Charlie to go with him as friends, they could find girls once they were there, but the idea was unconvincing and their many prior homosexual allegations coupled with the fact that Charlie ultimately wasn't budging on leaving the house (at a point of Mac pulling on him and trying to drag him into coming along) won the argument.

Eventually, a high Mac crashed prom on his own, mad at Dennis for not helping him out and having learned all his tricks on women from him, managed to isolate her and hook up with her without Dennis really noticing... when it comes out later that his prom date cheated on him with his friend, Mac is quick to blame Tim Murphy.. he and Charlie weren't even there, afterall, they were sniffing glue in the basement all night...

[thewalrusespublicist]

I straight up don’t think that story in skywriting set in Paris ever even remotely happened, I think this is John working through the mix of complex feelings he has about Paul in some sort of semi autobiographical fantasy/thought experiment type thing? I think it’s undeniable it’s about Paul, but wether or not the contents of it are true is a little more suspect, the thing is it’s not the point to me, like, the fact that he’s fantasising about having passionate hate love sex with his boy bestie is the real convicting evidence 😭

Hi Anon,

Pretty much entirely agree! Not going to lie, I love this section of Skywriting as it’s so tantalising. Like what's fact and what's fiction? Where does fantasy overtake the narrative entirely and when does reality trickle through? The line between the two is often blurred in Skywriting as it is in most of John’s creative work.

As to it being an entirely fantastical thought experiment or a semi-autobiographical, I think I lean towards the latter only in the broadest sense.

*One sec, lemme adjust my tin-hat.*

I’m pretty much on the bandwagon that this section is a highly embellished, fantastical account of the summer of 66’ or a pastiche of trips to Paris. John, as he does elsewhere in Skywriting, obscures or replaces the real life event or word with clever wordplay and surrealist imagery. Instead of putting that he was acting abroad in Spain, he uses a play on ‘method acting’ to come up with ‘methodist acting’ and invents a more ‘exotic’ location of Jamaica. Edit 1: @this-never-happened-before has kindly informed me that the British capital of Jamaica was called 'Spanish Town' and Spanish Town still exists as the Capital of St Catherine's province. It's nowhere near definitive proof of course but it's really interesting to think about and could explain if John was thinking of summer 66' why he chose Jamaica as a substitute for Spain. Instead of saying he met up with Paul and co in Paris, he gets a summons from Aime to go to Paris. Whilst the name Aime is obviously part of the allusions to homosexuality and the surreal angle, ‘aime’ nevertheless means ‘friend’ in french. Less discussed is the fact that Aime is also a comrade, which by definition is a friend or someone who works in the same organisation as you or is a fellow soldier. ‘Military buddies’ anyone? So he’s being summoned by someone he defines as being his friend and ‘brother-in-arms’. Pinning it down further to the summer of 66’ is the ‘God Only Knows’ reference. This to me is where I threw my hands up because well, wouldn’t you know guess whose favourite song it is and who played it to death in 66’:

(On the influence of Pet sounds on John)

PAUL: I played it to John so much that it would be difficult for him to escape the influence. If records had a director within a band, I sort of directed Pepper. And my influence was basically the Pet Sounds album. John was influenced by it, perhaps not as much as me. It was certainly a record we all played – it was the record of the time, you know?

Edit 2: I've discussed this a bit in the comments but thought it should go here in the main ask. To me it seems really unlikely that John, who lived and breathed music, communicated to his friends in coded song lyrics and measured time periods by songs (according to Mintz) would not have an especial association with Paul and God Only Knows, especially as Paul would not let up on how much he loved it. Loving someone romantically or platonically means remembering little details like that.

Furthermore, I did a bit more digging and found that John himself loved Pet Sounds but he never mentioned God Only Knows as one he particularly loved. I did however notice an anecdote from Alice Cooper recalling John talking to Brian Wilson about Pet Sounds in the mid 70s. In it John discusses Pet Sounds as something both he and Paul admired together.

''Hello Brian, I’ve always wanted to meet you. I’ve always admired your work, and Paul and I considered Pet Sounds one of the best albums ever made.''

To add to all this, you have:

staying at the George V, the same place John and Paul stayed at when they went to Paris the second time in 64’ (I couldn't find where they stayed in 66’ but it may have been the same hotel).

 ‘the underlying bastard’ of their relationship which has many possible meanings when it comes to John and Paul (jealousy, competitiveness etc.)

 dating of ‘three months’ before a big fall out. Three months takes us nowhere … but three years takes us to 1969 when things really started to go to hell for them

Then leaving in a seething rage but being like a force fed baby about them… a pretty great description of growing up loving someone and spending so much time with them from a young age or just being bombarded with information and memories about someone like John was with Paul in the 70s

Pure tin hat bollocks ignore me but the 'don't take me for granite Perry', 'Never' I sang reminds me so much of the Oh! Darling recording sessions.

The move from the third to first person in the last part of the section. It could be John acting as an omniscient narrator or revealing that there are certain truths to the story that affect him personally

 ‘To this day, his memories of her are clear and fresh.  Like a force-fed baby, he’ll never forget, and neither, I hope, will she.’’

So yes, whilst I am open to it being coincidental and just pure fantasy, I do think it is at the very least a little inspired by that summer or by his trips to Paris in general. But if the Aime is/is inspired by anyone real, it’s Paul. Aside from the history of Paris in their relationship and the God Only Knows reference, there’s also that John’s Mon Pau Pau demo:

Source: https://got-ticket-to-ride.tumblr.com/post/733073861959139328/john-chanelling-a-french-singer-in-an-audio-from (thank you @got-ticket-to-ride, I don't know how the hell you got hold of this but amazing you did)

I’m unsure with the transcription of the ‘garter … prod’ as Dogget could be right and it’s cartier … throat (though as an aside it’s always wild to me that his transcription removes the Pau Pau section, surely he knew enough about the Beatles + solo work to immediately get the reference and significance?) Nevertheless, John’s in this demo places Paul in the role of a coquettish women which would give the section of Skywriting precedence.

So if it’s potentially autobiographical, how true is the sleeping together bit? Honestly, I agree that I doubt they did it for too many reasons to go into here. But then why on earth has he written this? The tone of the passage is quite light-hearted so I don't think it's delving into any real feeling of angst or forbidden desire. Edit 3: @idontwanttospoiltheparty has raised that there isn't any real reason that John couldn't be playfully writing out a fantasy about Paul for various reasons. Considering John's mercurial moods towards Paul and the playful demo, I am inclined to agree that this was an oversight on my part and perfectly plausible. Aside from playful exploration or a personal joke about the potential boundary-crossing of their relationship, John could be describing their songwriting process. I can't find them right now (which is driving me crazy) but there are a few quotes from Paul which talk about John and Paul taking it in turns to 'turn each other on' with their music. Maybe John was riffing off that supplanting the intense, emotional act of songwriting with sex? Or maybe Paul was a very loose inspiration and the characters and their sexual relationships became their own. It's so hard to decide and discern but absolutely, the fact that he is potentially willing to go there in his mind indicates at least some acknowledgement that maybe feelings/ the relationship wasn't 1000 percent platonic or blurred the boundaries of a standard heterosexual male friendship for the time.

[sunflowerhazel]

I keep seeing posts about people saying that the only reason Christian Linke called Viktor ace was in a sloppy, homophobic attempt to try and get people to stop shipping Jayvik. And like, yes, 1000% I agree with that statement.

But I haven't actually seen a lot of people explain why this argument is stupid from an asexual perspective, so let me be your queer older sister and let you in on a couple ace secrets:

Sexual and romantic attraction are not always the same. This is known as the split-attraction model, and it's one of the reasons why talking about sexuality can be so difficult sometimes. Sometimes, the people you are romantically interested in do not always coincide with the people you are sexually attracted to.

This might be why some people are bisexual, but they only ever date people of a certain gender (obviously there's many factors that go into who we date and why but let's live in a hypothetical world for a moment where you could instantly date or have sex with whoever you want).

To some people, this distinction is very important! For a majority of the population, their romantic and sexual interests overlap. If a man tells you he's gay, it's safe to assume is he only attracted to other men, both romantically and sexually. In fact, having split attraction is so rare that most of us don't think of it as a possibility! That being said, some people will refer to themselves as homoromantic bisexual (will only date members of the same gender, but are sexually attracted to multiple genders), or heterosexual homoromantic (only want to date members of the opposite gender, but are sexually attracted to only the same gender), or whatever else!!! Human sexuality is weird and fluid, gender is weird and fluid, and if the split-attraction model makes the most sense for you then that's great!

Ok, so what does that have to do with Viktor? Well, in the same way that someone might be homosexual heteroromantic or whatever, some people are asexual romantic-- meaning, they don't feel sexual attraction (asexual), but they still feel romantic attraction.

Of course, some people are aro/ace, meaning they don't experience sexual or romantic attraction at all. Others can be homosexual aromantic, or asexual biromantic, or whatever else!

In Viktor's case, even if he was always meant to be asexual, and that's not just a last-minute addition, he can still experience romantic attraction. That's the beauty of the split-attraction model; asexual people can still date and fall in love, and aromantic people can still seek out and enjoy sex. (Wait until you find out that asexual people can also actively seek out and enjoy sex! Although that's a conversation for another time.)

So yeah. TL;DR, Viktor being ace doesn't actually mean much when it comes to whether or not he's in love with Jayce. Headcannon the characters however you want, it's all valid and cool, but if Christian Linke actually wanted to deter shipping he should have called Viktor aro/ace, not just ace.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Louise Brooks (Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl)—Louise Brooks started off as a dancer and went to work in the Follies before going to Hollywood. Disappointed with her roles there, she went to Germany and proceeded to make Pandora's Box, the first film to show a lesbian on-screen (not her but one of her many doomed admirers in the film), and Diary of a Lost Girl, both of which are considered two of the greatest films of the 20th century. She helped popularize the bob and natural acting, acting far more subtly than her contemporaries who treated the camera as a stage audience. After the collapse of her film career and a remarkably rough patch as a high-end sex worker, she was rediscovered and did film criticism, notably "Lulu in Hollywood," which Rodger Ebert called "indispensable." Also, christ. Look at her.

Ruth Weyher (Secrets of a Soul, Warning Shadows)—my vintage crush

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Louise Brooks propaganda:

"Defined the style of the modern flapper. A gaze that could make a stone fall in love."

"Louise Brooks left a legend far greater than her real achievement as an actress, but even today few people have seen her films. In our own time, the fascination with Brooks seems to have begun in 1979 with a profile by Kenneth Tynan in the New Yorker, which revealed that the actress who made her last movie in 1938 was alive and living in Rochester, N.Y. Such was the power of Tynan's prose that people began to seek out her existing films, primarily this one, to discover what the fuss was about. What we see here is a healthy young woman -- she was 23 when the film was released -- with whom the camera, under G.W. Pabst's influence, is fascinated. There is a deep paradox in Brooks and her career: the American girl who found success in the troubled Europe between two wars; the vivid personality who briefly dazzled two continents but faded into obscurity; the liberated woman who had affairs with such prominent men as CBS founder William S. Paley as well as with women including (by her account) Greta Garbo but wound up a solitary recluse. And all of this seems perfectly in keeping with her most celebrated role in Pandora's Box. For despite her bright vitality, her flashing dark eyes and brilliant smile, Brooks's Lulu becomes the ultimate femme fatale, careering her way toward destruction, not only of her lovers but eventually of herself."

"She invented having bangs to indicate that you have borderline personality disorder"

"chances are if youve ever seen a "flapper girl" character or even just art of a generic flapper type made after the 20s it was based on her appearance - particularly the bob hairstyle! she had some pretty rough experiences through her life before during and after her tumultuous acting career which ended in 1938 but she made it to the 80s, wrote an autobiography and did a lot of interviews that she was never afraid of being honest in about her own life or peers of the age, and apparently was unabashed about some affairs she had with well known women (including greta garbo!!)"

"She read Proust and Schopenhauer on set between sets. She was one of the original flappers/new women of the 1920s. She had a one night stand with Garbo and was the inspiration for Sally Bowles in Cabaret. Truly a stone cold fox."

"on her wikipedia page it says her biographer said she "loved women as a homosexual man, rather than as a lesbian, would love them" and while i have no idea if this is true or not i thought that was very gender of her"

"despite being american she was big in german expressionist films and thus her aesthetic was unmatched!!"

So far ahead of her time in regard to portraying complicated women. Timeless elegance. "I learned to act by watching Martha Graham dance, and I learned to dance by watching Charlie Chaplin act.” - Louise Brooks

Ruth Weyher propaganda:

[lquiorra]

ꕥ``Tedious.``ꕥ Mayuri Kurotsuchi x AMAB! Airhead!Reader ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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Fandom: Bleach

Rated: NSFW (18+)

Word Count: 4.1K

Genre: Dating Headcanons, Neurodivergent Mayuri Headcanons, (NSFW UNDER THE CUT)

Warnings: 18+ only! No mention of He/Him pronouns, mentions of Unestablished relationship at the start, cock is a describing word for the reader's genitalia, minimal mention of Nemu, slight Yandere themes, general mental health/light involuntary self harm headcanons for Mayuri, sub!reader, dom!Mayuri, anal sex, rimming, anal fingering, degradation, dry humping, knife play, blood play, fear play, cuckolding.

! There is a SFW and NSFW drabble in this work, 2nd POV !

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! SAFE FOR WORK HEADCANONS !

ꕥ- Mayuri never really cared for dating anyone in general. He had considered attraction to other people a primitive urge and would not allow himself to stoop down to "pitiful romantic affairs".

ꕥ- In terms of his sexuality, Mayuri never considered himself anything. Mayuri considers romance as an instinct to breed and nothing more, Homosexuality and Heterosexuality holds no meaning toward him. He simply doesn't care enough to think about labelling himself, but he can be placed under the Bisexuality umbrella.

ꕥ- Other than his ego creating a field of untouchability around Mayuri, he simply feels that he puts far too much time into his field of profession to be able to balance a healthy relationship on top of that.

ꕥ- When he meets his S/O, Mayuri is not afraid to express a vile distaste to the behaviours that you exhibit within the minimal conversation the two exchanged.

ꕥ- He will refer to you by formalities and expects you to do the same for him. He gets quite annoyed if you call him by his first name without permission.

ꕥ- Mayuri would go as far as trying to remove your ability to talk in general because of the massive difference in intellect the two of you hold, only being prevented in doing so because although you're airheaded, you are productive.

ꕥ- He finds a sick satisfaction in scolding you with every small mistake, Mayuri enjoys the way your nose scrunches up in irritation, or the way fear fills your eyes when you know he's going to pass a harsh punishment on you.

ꕥ- The only reason why Mayuri would've ever consider dating you would be because of your personality; he'd feel naturally drawn toward you due to an undiscovered instinct he has to nurture.

ꕥ- Not to mention being around you would consistently stroke the already inflated ego Kurotsuchi has.

ꕥ- When he first catches feelings for you, Mayuri reminds himself of everything he hates about you. He hates how reckless you were in his laboratory, the messes you made and the quite unintelligible conversations you attempt to have with him.

ꕥ- However as the feelings fester and get nurtured from every little endearing thing you do, he finds himself being more mindful toward how he treats you, approaching you a bit more slowly than he usually does since he knows how hard it is for you to catch up with his intelligence.

ꕥ- Mayuri will probably vent his problems to Nemu, not because he feels like she could support him, but because he likes to put his issues onto someone who won't talk back or try to provide him advice.

ꕥ- Mayuri asking you out will be more of a demand or order rather than a request. It wouldn't be anything extravagant, at best you'd probably receive some kind of morbid letter under your door describing in detail of what parts of your personality he likes most, and the parts he likes least.

ꕥ- Considering that Mayuri is Neurodivergent, he isn't necessarily the touchiest of people. When Mayuri desires affection, he usually prefers showing it in other ways, often rambling about something interesting that he discovered in a recent experiment.

ꕥ- When he does show physical affection, it's usually from a subtle touch on the shoulder, do not expect a hug from him while greeting you, ever. The only time he would hug his s/o is if Mayuri was happy about a breakthrough in his research, not because he's happy to see you.

ꕥ- Kisses on the other hand, oh boy you're in for a ride. Mayuri loves degrading you, so doing it in public where he could humiliate you entirely is something he is addicted to. Surprisingly, if you establish boundaries in PDA Mayuri will abide by them begrudgingly, after all, he doesn't want you running away from him so soon.

ꕥ- He especially loves using his freakishly long tongue to keep you on your toes.

ꕥ- On the other hand, if you attempt to kiss Mayuri in public he'd probably end up pushing you away from him as if you had the plague. Mayuri does not like it when things are initiated by another person because it makes him feel weak, so it is not a good idea to kiss him in front of people.

ꕥ- If you want an apology, you will need to ask him to apologise for that, Mayuri has almost no empathy and will probably think that the way he responded to your advances as normal.

ꕥ- Mayuri will avoid running experiments on you at this point, his mind would be occupied with the possibility of breaking you too much for you to stay with him or even love him the way you currently do.

ꕥ- It would be easy for Mayuri to lose interest in a person if they can't keep up with his eccentric behaviour, so you better count on matching his energy the entire time you're in a relationship with him.

ꕥ- However it's not all semi-pleasant with his eccentricities, Mayuri suffers from SHU Syndrome and often has periods of psychosis due to being confined in the Maggot's Nest for so long.

ꕥ- This trauma also lead him to seeing himself as something less of a person and more of a thing to experiment on, which explains why he wears his makeup. Mayuri is obsessed with control, he doesn't like being seen anything similar to a person because in truth Mayuri knows that the vast majority of the time he can't relate to the love, experiences, or mourns of other people. The makeup helps exaggerate his personality and how he is seen by other people, it's his way of separating himself from anything he perceives on himself as too human.

ꕥ- Mayuri's emotional response to this period starts as a slow simmer, he starts distancing himself from you altogether, in fact Mayuri seems to depend on Nemu to bring him food and water, which is something he'd never do for the sake of keeping his pride.

ꕥ- On the event that he does leave his room during this period of time, albeit rare, you will notice that his fingertips are raw, and his usual clown-like appearance is smudged, as if Mayuri was delirious while applying it.

ꕥ- When these periods of time pass Mayuri is typically more easily agitated for a few days afterward, which leads him to snap at you much more often than since getting together with you.

ꕥ- On the topic of marriage, it is safe to assume that most marriages in the Soul Society are usually alliances between noble houses rather than love, so Mayuri never thought about getting married to anyone.

ꕥ- It is unlikely he'd ask for your hand in marriage, but there is no logical reasoning for him to say no to you other than not having much time for emotional intimacy.

ꕥ- In fact, Mayuri might like the idea of you belonging to him in that way.

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! SFW DRABBLE ! Word Count: 718

Cold hands brushed against skin, the violent antiseptic scent of Mayuri's bedroom abusing your senses as piercing gold eyes cut into your own, as if they were trying to pick apart every thought and action that ever did in front of them.

Mayuri's room was a strange place to sit patiently in as he explores your body, his tongue tasting every inch of skin that was revealed from underneath your Kosode, at least without Mayuri having to peel anything off to grant himself access underneath.

Your lips tingled with excitement and newfound energy whenever the two of you parted before you chased Mayuri for another passionate kiss, your hands carding through his blue locks of hair, which was typically styled into a wild mohawk, but he hadn't much time to do it up before you barged into his room and demanded for affection.

When you glanced around, your eyes begun to naturally get used to the dim lighting that barely illuminated Mayuri's painted form, and you could allow them to swallow up your surroundings in greedy gulps.

It wasn't necessarily a big room, instead of the traditional wooden floorboards you'd find yourself walking across when traversing the barracks of Squad 12 you'd find that the flooring that was underneath you had been plush and padded just as the walls and roof were, like one of the many mental hospitals you'd visit in the World of the Living.

To the right of where you currently were, there was a large, rectangular indent on the wall, undoubtedly the fold-out table that Mayuri had installed for himself when he was experiencing an episode and couldn't bare leave his room without feeling like a horrid beast was breathing down his neck.

Another feature of Mayuri's custom place of slumber was the sloped surfaces, most notably the shower in the corner of his room which was tilted down in undoubtedly the most uncomfortable angle to shower with. It was obvious that his room was made this way to suicide-proof it, not because Mayuri was suicidal, but in the case than an enemy was capable of controlling him and decided to make Mayuri attempt suicide, or so that's the conclusion you came up with, who knows what was going on inside of Mayuri's labyrinth of a mind.

His bed was probably the only thing that you two shared in common when it came to living space was the futon that the paranoid captain of Squad 12 was currently sitting on, not a stain in sight which made sense considering how much of a clean freak Mayuri could be.

A sudden nip to the neck snapped you out of your thoughts with a loud gasp being torn from the chambers of your throat. Mayuri clearly noticed that your attention shifted off him for a moment and didn't appreciate that.

"You shouldn't pry so much, you know?" Mayuri warned in a raspy tone of voice, laced with the same desire for closeness you shared with him. Your face flushed, red hot embarrassment embedding itself within the depths of your being after Mayuri had called you out for dozing off in the middle of your make out session.

An uncomfortable pause passed between the two of you, silently agreeing that this was a good time to have a break even if it were uncomfortable for you to look the man in the eye.

"I'm sorry," you apologised briefly, lips curled up into a wry, goofy smile that you swore momentarily cracked the cold gaze that was plastered onto your Captain's expression.

"You're such a dolt, you demand for affection, but you get distracted so easily..." it wasn't long before your lips started to dance with Mayuri's once more, his face paint smeared and turning some parts grey.

His fingers bit into your shoulder and in result caused you to reach toward his face, thumb sliding across the contours of his sharp jawline, to the uncomfortable earpiece that liked to poke into you when you were blessed the permission to sit beside Mayuri.

A groan passed Mayuri's lips at the touch, your thumb grazing his Adam's apple and applying pressure, your action causing the golden gazed man to shudder in just the right way, a burning hot reminder of the delicate balance the two of you had.

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! NOT SAFE FOR WORK HEADCANONS !

ꕥ- Surprisingly, Mayuri has a high libido despite avoiding physical affection like the plague. however, before you, he solved his issues with his hand rather than the company of another person. In all honesty Mayuri found it much easier to do things himself than have someone whine because he didn’t want to waste any more time trying to give the same amount of attention to them as they did he.

ꕥ- However as soon as he got his hands on you, Mayuri quickly grows addicted. It’s much more fun to get himself off by having someone he likes to fuck than his hand, especially with the ways he can taste you deeper than he ever has before.

ꕥ- He prefers to have sex in the confines of his bedroom, or in the personalised sex dungeon he has prepared for you, because it allows for him to bring whatever depraved fetish or kink he desires from you to the table without the possibility of a perverse eye watching the two of you, in his eyes, you're his to touch, his to taste and feel.

ꕥ- Mayuri’s cock is modified like the rest of his body, connected by three different segments to make himself longer in an unorthodox fashion which leaves him at a staggering 9 inches, but that doesn’t take the pleasure of sex. The stitches aren’t fragile which makes the chances of them breaking during sex unlikely, and his cock is curved to a nice angle, this combination bringing friction that’ll leave your body tingling with every thrust. He is neatly trimmed, a light dusting of blue hair at his base and trailing up to the area just below his bellybutton. Mayuri's balls hang low which is complimented by the flushed red tip of his arousal, expect him to go a few rounds when he really means it.

ꕥ- Another note to add in regard of his makeup, Mayuri does in fact paint his cock to match his body.

ꕥ- His favourite part of you is the crook of your neck and your spine, Mayuri enjoys running his fingers down the ridges of your back just as much as he loves to kiss it, it provides Mayuri a level of satisfaction that kissing you normally doesn't typically offer him.

ꕥ- Mayuri when he is prepping you for sex prefers to stay fully clothed, staring at your tantalising body as his fingers explore all the nooks and crannies that would be hidden otherwise.

ꕥ- Mayuri loves receiving more than he likes giving because it allows him to feel like he is the one in control, alongside the fact that Mayuri is quite selfish when it comes to the pleasures of the bedroom. He'll prefer having you on your knees so he can fuck your throat in every way he likes. However, when he's on the giving end he's definitely using his tongue, if your cock is veiny, he'll be tasting every single one individually, if it's skinny he'll wrap his tongue around you like a snake, anything you could imagine Mayuri doing with his tongue is more than likely something he would do.

ꕥ- On the topic of giving, if you expect any rimming from Mayuri, he expects you to take a shower prior to sex because of how paranoid with germs Mayuri is, he loves you, but there are a few things that he is less open to doing.

ꕥ- It was mentioned before that Mayuri liked to degrade his S/O, so in bed his harsh words increase tenfold as long as you're comfortable with it. Mayuri loves it when you're on your knees for because that gives him all sorts of things to say to you, one of the most memorable things he has said to you is "You really like being on my knees for me, don't you? Have you practiced with everyone else in Squad 12, I wouldn't be surprised with how much of slut you are."

ꕥ- Mayuri's fingers are long and slim, don't be surprised if he makes you come a few times, abusing your prostate as much as he could until you're whimpering for him to stop scissoring you open because of how overstimulated you are.

ꕥ- Before fucking you, Mayuri prefers to dry hump you, he enjoys the way his hand wraps around your cock and the sound of his clothing clothing shuffling against skin, pumping your length furiously within his hand and while his other is holding you down as he humps you like a dog in rut.

ꕥ- Mayuri doesn't find him typically satisfied with vanilla sex, he prefers things to be rougher and more depraved, teeth snapping against skin and nails raking down flesh to create marks that will last for hours after sex.

ꕥ- His favourite positions are doggystyle and mating press. Mayuri rarely ever likes to sub in bed because he likes to have you rely on him for pleasure completely.

ꕥ- With doggystyle Mayuri can bury your face into a pillow or whatever is below you with the palm of his hand, having you at his mercy while he pistons his cock deep inside of your waiting hole, or with his hand wrapped around your neck so he could hold you up to his chest and pant beside your ear feverishly.

ꕥ- On the other hand, a mating press makes it possible for him to fuck you almost anywhere he so desires. Most of the time, it is over his desk or against a counter, his cock deliciously nudging against your prostate with every violent thrust of his hips, milking you of all you're worth to his hearts content.

ꕥ- Just because Mayuri is mostly a top doesn't mean he can't bottom if you want him to. He likes to be humiliated just as much as he likes to humiliate you, so pressing him against the wall to the point that he can't move will drive him crazy with desire, his insides hugging your length and practically sucking you into him.

ꕥ- Mayuri is very sensitive, where he can last a long time if he's the one on top, Mayuri can be rendered into a snivelling, begging mess if you decide to caress the base of his cock while fucking into his body without mercy.

ꕥ- He is not a big fan of aftercare, at first Mayuri simply cleans himself up and expects you to do the same, but if you express that you want some kind of care after sex, Mayuri will try his best to compromise. Mayuri will run a bath for you most times so he wouldn't have to do much, it's rather heartless, but at least Mayuri is trying.

ꕥ- To him, you may be quite stupid but you aren't horrible in bed, he'll praise you after a session, and in fact might find it amusing to offer you some kind of sweet as if he hadn't fucked your brains out only mere moments before.

ꕥ- Cockwarming, although a little annoying to prepare in Mayuri's opinion, is one of the mad scientist's favourite things to do with you. He likes to be able to do work in his bedroom while you're rested on his lap, a hand on your thigh to prevent you from squirming all too much while his other hand is occupied with writing a report about his recent findings.

ꕥ- As stated before, Mayuri loves overstimulating you, he could make you come a number of times before finishing his work and then paying proper attention to you.

ꕥ- Mayuri can't have a routine when it comes to sex, he is rather restless and often experiments with every fetish and kink he possibly could pull from the back of his mind as long as you are comfortable with it.

ꕥ- Some of his favourite kinks surround knives, he likes being able to leave a reminder onto your very being, and the taste of the iron in your blood is addictive to him. Sometimes, Mayuri traces the underside of your length with the blade, not necessarily cutting you down there, but teasing you.

ꕥ- Mayuri also has a particular kink about the fear that fills your eyes when you know he is going to hurt you, in fact if you let him Mayuri would probably go through with his threats as long as he has a safe method of keeping you in one piece.

ꕥ- Unless if the two of you are very close, don't expect Mayuri to remove the makeup, even for sex, so shower sex will be hard to achieve unless if his makeup is waterproof. In the case that it is, he'll purposefully fuck you against the glass every time, your chest pressed up against the see trough material as your cock bobs pathetically with every thrust, untouched and aching for release.

ꕥ- Cuckolding? That is out of the question for Mayuri, he is a very jealous man through and through, which means it wouldn't be unlikely that he would probably stop you before you finish and ruin you himself. Mayuri would definitely find a way to simulate it for you, if you desperately want it.

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! NSFW DRABBLE !

Word Count: 744 Warnings: Dom!Mayuri, Sub!Reader, Mayuri is wearing his paint, hand jobs (user receiving), knife play, blood play, no orgasm.

A cold hand was wrapped around your length, a mostly nailless thumb caressing the underside of your glans while giving the occasional swipe to the sensitive slit of the tip. You were left bucking hopelessly in the mad scientists hand, his eyes watching closely for your every reaction, every twitch of your leaking cock in his hand.

He made sure to use a higher quality paint for this considering that the two of you liked to get messy in situations such as this, especially since neither of you had much time to begin with.

Mayuri liked this position, he loved seeing your hands gripping the edge of a tool box to the point that it made it seem like you were trying to become a part of it, the feeling of his heart rattling against your back sent shivers of pleasure down into the pit of Mayuri's stomach.

Your thoughts were practically cast aside as he palmed your cock, the mix of his cool skin enveloping the warmth of your shaft suffocated your entire being with a layer of pleasure that your hand has never brought to itself before.

A sudden squeeze to the base caused your hips to buck forward into Mayuri's hand, the other, which was originally playing with your already reddened nipples shot up to catch the gasp that was almost pulled from you with a squeeze of your throat. Mayuri's teeth ghosted the shell of your ear before giving it a sharp nip, a strange laugh coming from him as you elbowed his side, hoping to send a message of distaste for his actions without messing the rhythm of his strokes up.

Mayuri cooed as you tried to let out another sound, his hand tightening once more over the pipe that allowed any sound to come out of, a coiling feeling swelling at the pit of your gut while the man's pace became achingly slow.

For a moment he'd stop the movement of his hands all together, the only thing keeping your arousal awake was the small circles he'd trace into the bottom of your length, and you trying to get him to continue by pathetically moving your hips against his hand like a bitch in heat.

"I thought I told you that I am the one in control here, or have we somehow forgotten that?" The man hissed venomously into your ear, his damp breath fanning against the soft hairs at the back of your neck which in turn sent shivers running down your spine.

With a wide grin on his face, Mayuri's hand slipped away from your cock a moment later, leaving you to whine in protest. You couldn't help but turn into putty from his touch, the hand gliding across your skin in as if it were a song that he had played dozens of times.

Mayuri wasn't very secretive about his sadism, especially with the glint that was burning deep within his gaze as he saw you, panting leaning your weight back onto the metal surface below which had since been warmed by your body heat.

A knife pressed against your lower abdomen, sliding from just below your abdomen to the surface of your sternum, dancing across your chest like a heartless serpent in the deep dunes of Hueco Mundo. A sudden pressure from the knife to the surface of your skin left a cut on your stomach, it wasn't bone deep, but it was certainly deep enough to allow a trickle of blood to run down your body and to your hip before Mayuri caught it in the tracks and swiped the droplet astray.

You'd watch with a quiet groan as he'd lick the blood off his fingers as if it were the sweetest wine of all, the crimson liquid coating his tongue in a grotesque display of dominance as his eyes locked onto your expression.

The tip of the knife made contact to the plane just underneath your cock, tracing up and down slowly as if Mayuri was mapping out places to cut and gore to his hearts content. However, the pain didn't return and the mad scientist tucked the crooked blade to your gut again, a threat telling you not to move.

The wide grin returned to your partner's expression, the hand which paint was now chafing from the dried blood wrapping around your cock once more. "I'd say we better finish up here, I don't want you to become a tedious distraction..."

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[rigginsstreet]

Steve should have cheated on Nancy with Billy

I mean when would he have had the time Nancy broke up with him like 2 minutes after he met Billy lmao

BUT

I do love a sloppy steve moment so imagine with me if you will:

Steve is happy in love with his girlfriend. Life is going great as far as he’s concerned. He’s at a Halloween party all dressed up dancing the night away with his girl. What could be better than this

He ends up in the kitchen at one point to get him and Nancy some more lunch. He’s still got a bounce in his step, grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he can convince Nancy to neck in the car later before she has to go home or he can sneak into her room… whichever

But then the new guy is suddenly at his shoulder, probably waiting for his turn at the punch. Steve’s all “oh hey man here you go” and makes to leave but billy starts his whole king Steve thing except this time without any venom. He’s being super flirty about it and Steve “never met a homosexual” Harrington is super confused and absolutely not picking up what Billy’s putting down so he leaves the exchange bewildered but also kinda horny for some reason… he’s probably just drunk. Whatever

Cut to Steve in the bathroom taking a piss when billy stumbles in all “oh oops my bad” like genuinely didn’t know anyone was in here but once he sees it’s Steve he goes from 😳 to 😏

Gets ESPECIALLY excited when he sees Steve’s dick is still hanging out and wooo boy that thing is impressive.

And Steve’s all awkward fumbling trying to get out like “oh yeah it’s fine I’ll just go lol” but then billy starts flirting with him again, starts talking about what a nice looking dick he has cuz billys just drunk enough to be a little too forward for his own good and Steve’s never had another guy talk about his dick outside of like locker room banter and it’s this sweaty shirtless guy with nice tits - wait what who said that - and Steve won’t lie he’s kinda getting hard about it…

So anyway cut to billy on his knees giving Steve a blowie in the bathroom that rocks Steve’s world and awakens him to some homosexual desires he previously did not have and billy sends him out back to his girlfriend and calls it’s a night

And the rest of the night Steve is thinking about billy and his mouth. Thinks about it when he’s fucking Nancy in the back of his beemer. Thinks about it the next day at school when they’re meant to be studying in the library. DEFINITELY thinks about it during basketball practice when hargroves rubbing all over him in those tight little shorts and like

Steve is NOT gay. Has never been gay. Him dragging Billy into the equipment closet after practice is just like…a fluke. An experiment to see if his drunk mind is still possessing his sober one.

But after a week of messy hook ups in janitors closets and under bleachers and the quarry on a Saturday morning steve doesn’t think he can keep blaming being drunk anymore…

[quitealotofsodapop]

JTTW-era Stone Egg part 2:

referencing this previous post about the Pilgrims reacting to the knowledge that au!Wukong is having a baby and has a missing mate.

Ao Lie is a real bro; he figured out Wukong was a having a kid based on his dragon/horse nose, and decides to support him 100% no matter his choice at the end of the day. The fact that he suspects its an asexually-produced Stone Egg that could kill his new buddy is something Ao Lie is keeping quiet about until Wukong himself is comfortable sharing it.

Ao Lie, after Bajie accuses him of having a crush on Wukong: "Ew no! He most certainly has a mate awaiting his return - I wouldn't dare dishonor a married demon!" Wukong, brightly playing along: "Yeah, piglet! Plus, no one will ever measure up to my Mihou!" Ao Lie, confused whinny: "Excuse me, what?" Wukong, tail curling into a heart: "The strongest, most clever monkey on Flower Fruit Mountain - my equal in all including on the battlefield. <3"

The rest of the gang are pleasantly surprised... and outraged to learn that their pregnant companion has a mate that up and left him while he was pregnant. Whomever this "Macaque" figure is, the Pilgrims gonna have a stern talk with him when they find him.

Except maybe the two former-celestials;

Bajie is just like: "Wait, did you just say this Macaque guy was your equal in battle!?" Wukong, wistful sigh: "Yeah..." Zhu Bajie & Sha Wujing: *share equally terrified looks*

Maybe they'll need to devise an attack strategy before confronting this guy head on. Ao Lie loudly states that he's gonna kick the guy if he sees him first.

Tripitaka meanwhile has to mentally wrap his head around the idea of two men marrying before he can process that *Sun Wukong* is married. The Confuscist / Buddhist attitudes at the time said "Girls have Karma Cooties"; so it was considered normal for men to "prefer other men's company" but it was still super-illegal. Being raised in a sheltered, likely all-male, monastery also adds in extra confusion for the monk. Not to mention his own asexuality.

Tripitaka: "Is it... acceptable for a man to love another man like one would a woman?" Zhu Bajie: "Only if they're into it." Tripitaka: "Wha...?"

Eventually he ends up asking the boddhisattvas and different gods for their opinions;

Tripitaka: "Is it normal amongst those in the Celestial Realm for men to... have thoughts of romance for other men?" Erlang: "Oh diyu, yeah! It's totally normal! We even have Tu'er Shen - he's the rabbit god of homosexual love!" Tripitaka, pleasantly surprised: "Oh! That's interesting - but is it accepted?" Erlang & the Plum Hill Lads: *share a footballer's huddle, whispering intensely* Erlang: "Ehhh... just don't bring it up around my uncle. He's kinda weird about it." Triptiaka, a little heartbroken: "Oh..."

Best advice comes from Guanyin herself ofc;

Guanyin: "I'm am composed of multiple energies, Tang Monk. Although I do not experience romantic feelings like say, Chang'e and Hou Yi, I know for a fact that the buddha does not judge those for whom they love - even if their fellow man do so." Tripitaka: *delighted smile!* Tripitaka, remembering why he asked: *fatherly instincts activate* "I'm going to kill that Liu'er Mihou for breaking my student's heart!"

In the Jttw Stone Egged au where Macaque lives, Tripitaka is the only one to get a solid punch in before Wukong calls the gang off.

Angst and canonical death tw under Read More;

Zhu Bajie ultimately starts out as a huge a-hole, and the Journey makes him a little less of a jerk. One huge change Wukong noticed in his bro's behavior was around the time... he lost Macaque.

Especially in the Slow Boiled au.

Bajie would walk up to Wukong like he did many time when he tried stealing his snacks or to poke fun at him... only to sit down next to the monkey watches the moon together. Both longing.

Zhu Bajie: "You know... I wasn't lying when I said I was cursed to suffer many heartbreaks... I know what it looks like from a mile away." Wukong: *says nothing, hiding face in his arms and knees* Zhu Bajie: "You really loved that guy, huh?" Wukong: *nods, face still hidden* Zhu Bajie, confidently: "...you'll see him again. Maybe not in this lifetime, but you will." Wukong, uncharacteristically quiet: "Thanks..." Zhu Bajie: "No problem."

The pig is noticeably easier on Wukong after that day. And maybe a little more appriciative of the time he had with Culian... he's experienced enough bad love-lifes to figure out how to make things work. Maybe after the Journey is over, he'll give her a call?

He does really hope his Eldest Brother and his mate reunite in the future... even if it means in the Diyu.

[ethicstownprod]

The show seems (please correct me if I’m wrong) to have been cast pretty gender blind. Talking of gender roles in the Q&A, was it ever a possibility that January was a woman/non binary?

You are indeed (pretty much) correct! The entire show was cast gender blind aside from January*. I don’t have the exact disclaimer on me, but the casting call said something like:

“Anyone who feels comfortable playing a character who identifies as a man and uses he/him pronouns is encouraged to audition for this role.”

January was always written to be a cishet white man from England. I was very open to people who didn’t match some, or any, of those characteristics playing the part (Rhys does not in fact have a wholly English accent, but unless you’ve spent a lot of time where his family’s from you’d never be able to tell. Also, straight? My brother??), but he was written to be a really stereotypical Bad Politician From A Small English Town**.

But, you cry, that was S1 January! If he can be a little homosexual, surely he could have transed his gender?

True! Ish… January potentially being played by a trans actor was always a ‘this is a conversation to be had post-casting’ kind of thing. It would entirely depend on what the actor was comfortable with.

Say, for example, January had been played by a trans masc person. That would be a difficult thing to bring up in a later season, after January has already robbed two women of their bodily autonomy and ruined a little girl’s life… Not really the commentary I was going for! And you don’t even know what he’s going to do in S3 yet…

So in that situation I would have suggested it just doesn’t get mentioned; nothing to confirm January is a cis man, but nothing to imply he’s trans either. Of course, had someone not been comfortable with that I’d have worked with it.

If he’d been played by a trans femme/nonbinary actor the above isn’t so much an issue. Obviously I’m not saying it’s okay to imply trans women steal from other women, but it would be much easier, with the way the narrative is designed, to say, “Well, January did those things because she was written to be a cis gender man and a villain. Now that’s she’s starting to develop a sense of self she’s still a villain, just in a cool and sexy way now.” (Obviously this is paraphrasing/a joke. Cisgender man January isn’t even really a villain). And then S2/3 January could have a fun little gender arc with Noah.

But honestly, everything in this hypothetical would depend on the actor. Rhys is amazing, obviously, and while we may not be getting 🏳️‍⚧️Trans Rep🏳️‍⚧️ from this specific character I don’t feel like January having any kind of queer arc is hindered at all by him being played by a (umbrella term) bisexual actor.

Much like what I was saying about January wrt gender roles in the Q&A, Rhys likes sewing and crafts and girly pop music and kids’ cartoons and baby animals and childcare and cooking and (once every 9 months when the planets align) talking about his feelings.

He also rides a motorbike, likes to make his own electronics, and talks really, really loudly in the pub even though everyone he’s talking to is within a half metre radius. Y’know, guy stuff.

It’s great that there are so many micro labels available to people who want them, but, “I don’t really feel like a very guyish guy, and that’s because straight men have historically set the standard for what it means to be a guy. I’m still a guy, I’m just having a queer guy experience,” is still a totally valid gender take, and I feel like that’s much more where January-played-by-a-cis-man sits. So, y’know, that’s actual January that we actually have.

At least, until he commits his next crime and totally forgets about being gay.

*At this point you may be thinking, “But if January was a heterosexual man, surely his spouse would have to be played by a woman?” Mayhaps! January’s spouse would have to be played by someone who was comfortable portraying a woman for ~1 episode. But there was absolutely no reason “Al” couldn’t have transitioned in any way shape or form in S2 onwards. It just so happened L killed it ridiculously hard and also uses she/her pronouns.

**There are absolutely bad female politicians from small English towns. There are also bad politicians of colour from small English towns. And bad queer politicians, usually not from small towns but sometimes. But statistically it is cishet white men. Currently, 68% of UK mayors are men. 88% are white. 60% are white men. And that’s in the year of our lord 2025.

[prodigal-explorer]

i dont exactly consider myself a pro-shipper but i am VERY anti-censorship. i hate all censorship. absolutely nothing in media should be censored whatsoever, the only exception being media that is marketed towards children because it should be up to parents/guardians/trusted adults to decide what media children are ready to consume.

but when it comes to adults? hell no.

“but but but it’s a problematic ship!!! 🥺”

there are problematic romances in real life. there are abusive relationships and sexual assaults in real life. we cope with these things by reading and writing about them and realizing that we are not alone, we are not crazy, we are going through something real. media is meant to connect people, and with the influx of social media, people don’t connect with each other anymore and censoring stories about sensitive topics purely because they’re problematic is severing that connection even more.

“but but but it’s pedophilia! 🥺”

i am a victim of pedophilia. i know many people who are also victims. again, if we don’t tell these stories, then there will be kids who have nothing to connect to who think that what they’re going through is normal or that it’s something only they will understand. it doesn’t normalize anything. if you read about pedophilia and your first thought is “okay great, now i can be a pedo because i read about pedophilia!” then it’s not the story or the author’s fault. it’s the pedo’s fault because they’ve always been a pedo. they were just looking for something to twist into justifying their actions.

and also the example i just described is something that absolutely NEVER happens. it’s something that antis made up so they could spread their censorship bullshit.

we should read stuff we disagree with. we should read stuff that is disgusting and messy and horrible if we want to. because those are all stories about the human experience. and if we censor one thing, what’s to stop people from censoring everything?

do you antis know about the wales padlock act? in america in the 1920’s until i believe the 50’s or 60’s, there was a LAW that stated that people could be ARRESTED if the media they created had any form of “obscenity” in it including nudity, pedophilia, and oh, you know what else? homosexuality. transgender characters. in fact, a play called god of vengeance by sholem asch was forcibly closed down and all actors and producers were arrested for “obscenity” because it described a beautiful and loving homosexual relationship between two young women.

do you see now? do you get why censorship sucks? you can’t just have some censorship. anybody can view anything as obscenity. bigots will turn ANYTHING into obscenity and lump it in with all the “problematic” stuff y’all want to censor. lgbtq+, interracial romance, etc. it could all be lumped in there and censored too.

i would rather have a few stories in the world that i disagree with or a few stories that make me uncomfortable than absolutely no stories that depict the human experience in a raw, unfiltered, uncensored way because when you censor art, it immediately severs all human connection that could have been formed from it.

so yeah. antis get the fuck off my page unless you want to change. i hate you and all the censorship bullshit you stand for.

[yellowocaballero]

i see you reblogging aa, is this a sign an ace attorney fic is on the horizon 👀

I resign myself to the fact that any reblogging spree of one work inevitably results in people in my inbox asking if I'm currently writing fanfic about it. I can't complain, because the answer is usually yes absolutely of course I am.

I will say that the Great Phoenix Wright Trilogy Playthrough Of 2024 was this summer! It was very much a tether to sanity and I'm very grateful towards @lazuliquetzal for letting me watch her play and for making the experience so much fun. A very intricate bedrock of lore/in-jokes developed. Edgeworth thinks he discovered homosexuality and younger sister figures are mandatory in a court of law. We found it extremely well-written, very funny, and really interesting in character dynamics. I also got her to play Ghost Trick, which was awesome as usual. We're currently both obsessing about different things - and my fanfic to-do list is already VERY long - so no fanfic is actually in the works right now.

Of course I've already written some, who do you take me for. I wrote this just for us, so it's unfinished and rife with our in-jokes, but somewhat shockingly it probably has the densest joke-to-word ratio that I've ever written. Sometimes I want to continue writing something, but I look at it and I'm like, 'This is too good. I can't keep up this level of good. I can't reach this high again'. The short fanfic - sourced from our recurring jokes/efforts to figure out [SPOILERS FOR ACEATT3] how blind Godot is exactly, and what I would have found the most interesting - is, believe it or not, too good to keep writing.

Zany fanfic and spoilers for Ace Attorney 3 under the cut.

           As it turned out, there was a prosecutor’s lounge.

           Like a lot of Phoenix’s least favorite facts, it was both obvious in retrospect and deeply disturbing. The defendant’s lounge had an obvious purpose: confer with your client, beg them to tell you simple facts that would determine if they were sentenced to death via electric chair, let your coworkers blow off steam by making fun of you. Gumshoe is useful at the least useful second. None of these banal and extraordinarily stressful events had anything to do with a prosecutor.

           That was why Edgeworth had always wandered into the defendant’s lounge and made vague yet affectionate threats at Phoenix. If he had his own sterile room to stand around awkwardly, he surely would have done so. This felt so obvious it ought to have gone without saying. There couldn’t, like, actually be a real lounge. That would imply a lot of things about Edgeworth’s choices. 

As a result, when Gumshoe tossed Phoenix the updated coroner’s report and asked him to run it to the prosecutor’s lounge, Phoenix’s first instinct was to contemplate suicide. His only remaining link to sanity was the knowledge that running Gumshoe’s errands to an imaginary room was better than the alternative of staying here.

           Much better. Gumshoe was looking at Maggey, Maggey was refusing to look at Gumshoe, Phoenix wanted to be nowhere near any of this, and he was taking the out. Gumshoe might as well have asked him to go check if his refrigerator was running. Call him a mechanic, because he grabbed both Maya and Pearl and high-tailed it out of there.

           He had to ask for directions three different times before he even found the place. It was a place that could be found. In real life. Phoenix better go catch his fucking refrigerator!

It was also right next door to the defendant’s lounge. Had this really been here the entire time? Could Phoenix have been wandering into Edgeworth’s lobby and making vague yet affectionate threats at him? He could have even stood in front of the door and blocked Edgeworth’s ritualistic escape from his feelings. His was a life of missed opportunities.

           “I bet they have free coffee,” Maya said grimly. “I bet they have tacos.”

           “With free avocados,” Phoenix intoned. “As much as they want. Maybe caviar.”

           Pearl blasted her large and doleful eyes up at Nick. “Why don’t you put avocados on the tacos you make for us? I love them…”

           Poverty, but he couldn’t tell her that. Nick settled for patting her on the head. “Avocados are as immoral as the prosecutors themselves, Pearly. It’s a matter of ethics.”

           “Ethics are so overrated,” Maya said mournfully, kicking the doors open. “Let’s go evil, Nick. For the sake of the children.”

           The cops inside did not appreciate Maya’s dynamic entry, but nobody ever did. Disappointingly, the prosecutor’s lounge was identical to the defendant’s one – down to the cops, cheap sofa, and ugly-ass art. The only difference was – son of a bitch, they did have coffee!

           Entirely possible that Godot refused to step foot inside the courthouse unless they installed a coffee machine. But it was the principle of the thing, goddamn it! Nobody ever cared about Phoenix’s hunger strikes!

           Potentially entirely due to coffee, Godot was sitting on the scratchy sofa with his head tilted back and one earbud in his ear. Its cord snaked onto the cushions of the couch, attacked to some small black media player. Was he awake? Was he asleep? Was he dead? If they were really quiet, would he sleep through the trial and leave Phoenix to win by default –

           “They have a chartreuse board!” Maya screeched. “Those rat bastards!”

           Pearl gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Is that sushi? Free sushi!? I love sushi!”

           “Get my purse, Pearl-chan! Grab much as you can!”

           “So it’s hereditary,” Godot growled. Phoenix winced, instinctively checking for coffee cups in his vicinity. The familiar cheap coffee table seemingly only had one, but on closer look Nick could tell that they were carefully stacked into each other. How tidy! “How did you even know this place existed, Trite?”

           One of these days Phoenix was going to start pronouncing his name “guh-dot”. That would show him. He hadn’t mustered the courage yet, but one of these days! “How could I not know it existed?” Poker face, Phoenix. Look condescending. Evoke Edgeworth. Show him what’s what. Literally nobody else you know is scared of him, therefore you are not scared of him, we are manifesting absolute zen in the face of the tallest man Phoenix had ever met in his life. He was sitting down. This shouldn’t be hard. “It’s right next to the defendant’s lounge, how could we miss it?”

           “Is that so?” Godot slowly leaned forward, like a great beast awakening from a mighty slumber. His movements were stiff and disjointed, like a fat bear waking from hibernation. “The spotlight of truth must be like a floodlight to the most enlightened defense lawyers. Illuminating all. Hiding nothing. But shadows cling to the undersides of society, and true darkness lurking underneath the charcuterie board –“

           “I have the updated coroner’s report,” Phoenix said, flapping the envelope loosely. “Gumshoe wanted you to have the other copy.”

           “Yeah, give it here.”

           “If the charcuterie board is evil don’t tell me.” Maya was plowing through a hunk of goat cheese like a rabid coyote. “I don’t wanna know. None of my business. Put the wasabi in my coin purse, Pearl-chan.”

           There was something inherently evil about having a cheeseboard at the workplace, but the legal system couldn’t get much worse. Godot didn’t stand up from the couch – he just thrust out a hand, making shockingly childish little grabby hands, forcing Phoenix to cross the entire room and put it in his hands. Pearl ran up to Phoenix and helpfully smeared wasabi on his hand.

           Godot took the coroner’s report and dropped it on the table. He leaned back, reaffixing his earbud in his ear. “Charmed. Clean us out of the nori, girls, it’s Payne’s favorite and I want him to experience suffering.”

           Pearl helpfully tugged at Phoenix’s sleeve, dying it a light green. If he lost this case because the judge thought he smelled bad… “Can you pour me the last of the coffee, Mr. Nick? I wanna be a big girl and do it for me but the big jug is too heavy.”

           “Are you kidding? You’re way too young for coffee.” The last thing they needed was a nine year old bouncing off the walls. In a courtroom. During a murder case. Phoenix turned to Godot, who was biting his tongue and barely restraining himself from cursing out a nine year old. Was that blood? “You’ll want to take a look at that, Mr. Godot. There’s a new piece of evidence that could change everything.”

           “Save the dramatics for the courtroom.” Godot leaned back again, waving his hand absently. Yeah, that was definitely blood on his yellowed teeth. Phoenix had to admire the restraint. “What’s this new tidbit that’s so important, then?”

           Was he everyone’s errand boy? “The report’s right there, read it yourself.”

           “Seems like I was correct in pegging you as the lazy type, Trite. Look at you refusing to do a simple task.”

           Pearl made an ‘ooo’ing noise behind her hands. Maya broke a cracker in half, giving her the smaller piece. “Don’t say that world, Pearl-chan.”

           “What wo –“

           “You can’t insult me into doing the most basic aspect of your job. You read it.”

           “I’m a busy man. I’m hard at work actually making justice.” But he was sleeping?! “Defense attorneys clearly have nothing better to do than eat our precious cheeses. Show me that you can do the most basic element of the job.”

           Talk about a turnabout! This man had cranked the hostility meter up towards eleven and broke the knob off. Francizka had spent most of a year almost gnawing his face off, but she had never made Phoenix feel so specially hated. “Sorry, Godot, I’m not falling for it. But you’ll definitely want to read the report yourself. It has essential information for the trial in literally five minutes.”

           “If it’s so important than why did we give it to him at all?” Maya garbled, spewing pita chips everywhere. “We could have hid it and won this case!”

           “Because that’s unethical –“

           “You never let anything go! You and your silly ethics –“

           “Silly?!”

           Godot leaned forward and swept his hand over the table with incredibly unnecessary drama. He swept the folder into his hands, yanking the crumpled police report out. He ostentatiously snapped the paper and held it up to his visor, reading it closely. He nodded several times. He even hummed once.

           Finally, Godot straightened and tossed the report on the table. “Boring! So much for crucial evidence. You’re looking at the shadows in the cave and calling them innocent of heinous crimes, Mr. Trite. Turn away from illusions and overcome your cowardice by entering the deepest depths of Plato’s cave, facing your inner demons and reckoning with the truth of –“

           “Boring?” Phoenix cried. “The window for the potential time of the murder is completely different than we thought? And I’m the one living in a fantasy land?”

           Godot stared at him. “Really?” Phoenix made a garbled noise of outrage. Godot ignored him. “What’s the new window, then?”

           “Read it yourself!”

           “Hm.” Godot angled his head to the side, facing away from Phoenix. “Hey, little girl. I bet you can’t read.”

           Going for the throat?! Pearl clearly didn’t know whether or not to puff herself up in indignation or start crying. “I am such a good reader!!!!”

           “Really? Prove it.” Godot picked up the crumpled page and wave it at her. “Or are you a liar?”

           “Being a liar is for bad girls! I am a very good girl!” Pearl reached up on her tip-toes and nabbed the paper out of Godot’s hands. She scanned the page seriously, eyebrows furrowed. “Here! Right here! The new time of death is –“

           “Are you making a nine year old read a coroner’s report?!”

           Maya slurped slivers of ginger with pitying eyes. “She channels the dead, Nick.”

           “And that’s the time,” Pearl finished smugly. Phoenix hadn’t even heard her say it. She held out the papers to Godot again, who ignored her. “Now you know the time, because I am such a good reader.”

           “You’re a diamond in the rough, kid,” Godot told her seriously. “Never let these dullards dull your shine.”

           “My name’s not Diamond,” Pearl informed him, equally seriously. “It is Pearl Fey. Don’t feel bad. It’s a very common mistake.”

           “I don’t make mistakes, kid. I’m just one step ahead of reality. Count on it.”

           “You don’t have to be prideful, Mr. Godot.” Pearl smiled brightly and encouragingly at him, as if she was trying to connive a pit bull into a doing a trick. “It’s okay if you aren’t a good reader. Or if you aren’t a good speller. I’m a bad speller but that doesn’t make me a bad reader. Being a bad speller has nothing to do with being a good reader. I am a piece of decisive evidence about that.”

           Maya looked grimly at Phoenix, who was contemplating suicide again. “We’re ruined her vocabulary.”

           “We let her sit in during murder cases, Maya.”

           “And it’s ruined her vocabulary.”

           “What’s ruined your brain?”

           “Do you need me to read more things for you?” Pearl asked sweetly. “I like practicing my reading. I’m always practicing with Mr. Nick’s court records. They’re lots of fun and very educational. I can read ‘five counts of manslaughter’ very well. Do you want to see me spell it?”

           Godot looked at Maya. He looked at the coffee table, where the papers were not. He looked contemplative, maybe. Finally, he said, “How are you at serving coffee?”

           “If the jug is medium sized I can be very good at it!”

           “You’re hired.”

           Alright, that was enough. Phoenix had a lot of responsibilities, but his responsibility to Maya and Pearl came before every single one. That conviction had been put to test during that awful Engarde case. Phoenix almost sacrificed his integrity as a lawyer for Maya’s sake - he was not going to lose it now!

           “Absolutely not,” Phoenix said. It didn’t matter how insanely tall this guy was. Phoenix was taking a stand - right here, right now. Granted, the stand would go to his shoulder, but it was the conviction that counted! “Child labor is against the law, and her legal guardian does not give consent for this.” Phoenix made dangerous eyes at a cowed Maya, just to reaffirm that her legal guardian was not giving consent. “Don’t you have your own co-counsel? Make them do your chores, and stop stealing mine!”

           “I wasn’t planning on paying her,” Godot said affably. “That’s a violation of child labor laws, you know.”

           Maya appeared to be seriously considering his proposal. Which shouldn’t have been a big deal, but please refer back to the legal guardian wrinkle in this case. “I don’t know, Nick. Don’t you think it’s time Pearl flew out from underneath your shadow? It’s not exactly as if you pay me either.”

           “You’ll get paid when you do something helpful that gets me paid,” Phoenix said instantly. Maya glumly accepted this reality. “There’s no paycheck in moral support, Maya. Godot can use his own co-counsel –“

           “I don’t have a co-counsel,” Godot said. “Do I look like I’ve received an ounce of moral support in the last four years? Of kindness? Hell has no comradeship.”

           Phoenix flapped a hand. “Yeah, whatever. Your plucky imouto, co-counsel, whatever. Just get her to do it.”

           For the first time, Godot actually gave him a baffled look. Maybe. It was insanely hard to tell. “What would I do with a – younger sister, is it?”

           Everybody froze. You could have heard a penny drop. Maya and Pearl’s eyes practically goggled out of their heads.

           Godot just stood there, ignoring Pearl and Maya but clearly unsettled by the silence. “Cream and sugar undercuts the delectable bitterness of the black coffee. A life without siblings is a satisfyingly dark roast.”

           Slowly, Phoenix said, “I’m sorry. You’re a lawyer with no plucky female sidekick?”

           “I’ve had kouhai,” Godot said defensively. “I have a certain talent for mentorship –“

           “Mentorship? What makes you think you’re qualified to give any sort of mentorship? You’re a rookie!” Phoenix said the word ‘rookie’ like how Edgeworth said ‘polyester’, which was deeply satisfying. “And haven’t you lost every case you’ve ever taken?”

           Maya looked close to tears. “No wonder he’s such an awful lawyer…he doesn’t have a single imouto.”

           “Is that the ‘hell’ Mr. Godot talks about?” Pearl asked, voice wavering. “A world with no women?”

           “You’re projecting,” Godot snapped. “Just because you’re surrounded by teenage girls all day doesn’t mean any other lawyer is obligated to do the same.”

           “Any good lawyer. Why do you think Edgeworth has an imouto.” The thought of Edgeworth with no Franciska to hone his…edge…how sad. “And Franciska has Edgeworth as an imouto. This is law one-oh-one, Godot.” Phoenix propped his hands on his hips, grinning. “Hah! No wonder you can’t beat me! You don’t know the first thing about law, do you?”

           “And he can’t read,” Maya said sadly. “Maybe Mr. Godot isn’t exaggerating when he tells us how sad and pathetic he is…”

           “You thought he was exaggerating?”

           The tragic sight of the thoroughly baffled man clearly tugged at Pearl’s heartstrings, but she quickly found her resolve too. She rolled up her sleeves, as if they were at the office and she was ready to attack Phoenix’s toilet with a scrub brush. Once she had almost fallen in. “That does it! If Mr. Godot doesn’t have an imouto, then I’ll - ”

           “Nope. His problem, not ours.” Frankly, Phoenix was just trash talking a little. If you pretended Edgeworth and Franciska didn’t exist – impossible for Phoenix, but he could stretch his imagination – then Godot was a pretty good lawyer. To be a pretty good lawyer without the massive handicap of no young girl…Phoenix better stop giving the competition a hand like this. “Come on, the security guard’s started glaring at us again. It’s definitely time to start the trial.”

           “Your face will freeze like that, you know,” Pearl seriously told the security guard. He didn’t visibly react to her words at all. Maybe Pearl was onto something… “Mr. Nick, I have a duty to my fellow man -”

           “You can practice your reading with picture books, like a normal kid.” Pearl indignantly opened her mouth, doubtlessly about to launch into a meandering and breathless rant about her favorite Newberry Award winning children’s book author. “In English, not Japanese. Reading in English is your problem. At this rate you’re going to know how to read legalese and nothing else.” Phoenix yanked open the door, shepherding both girls out. Maya quickly stuffed more California rolls in her sleeve. “Bad enough Maya’s neglecting – Jesus Christ!”

           “You can’t give me a hard time about that,” Maya said reproachfully. “I’m Shinto.”

           Obviously, goddamn Gumshoe was at the door, one fist raised and clearly about to knock. His fist fell at the exact moment that Phoenix opened the door, and Phoenix only barely avoided a royal smack on the head by via Gumshoe’s meaty fist. He really couldn’t afford another concussion at this rate! CTE was a very serious brain disorder!

           “Mr. Wright! Hey, I thought I’d find you here! Right underneath my fist too! How’s that for some detective work, huh!” Gumshoe laughed uproariously, as if his crush wasn’t about to board her kayak and start doing the death row. And as if he hadn’t told Phoenix to go here. “Well, enough playing around! It’s time to get back to it! There’s no excuse for slacking off when Maggey’s life is on the line, you know!”

           “You’re the one who sent me on an errand!” Phoenix snapped. He shut the door tightly behind him. The last thing he needed was Godot adding his two cents. Or, knowing his wordiness, his two dollars. And change. “Did you forget telling me to give Godot the coroner’s report? It was five minutes ago!”

           “What? Why would I do that?” Gumshoe paused a second, creaky and rusty gears churning in his brain. Maya made demonstrative kissy noises. “Oh, yeah! Did you read it out to him?”

           Phoenix was going to have a fucking aneurysm. “Is there some reason why Prosecutor Godot is incapable of doing his own work? I’m already doing half the prosecutor’s job in the courtroom anyway!”

           “Some reason? Uh, yeah.” Gumshoe scratched the back of his neck, quirking an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly as if he can read the thing, you know.”

           “Oh my god,” Maya whispered, “he really can’t read.”

           Pearl’s eyes were brimming with tears. “A lawyer who can’t read…he’s so brave!”

           “Brave is one word for it,” Phoenix said flatly. How could he have ever been scared of this guy? No imouto, no literacy…the only thing impressive about him was how he’d even gotten this far. “It’s not my problem if Godot dropped out of fourth grade. He’s giving me enough problems, tell him to solve his own.”

           For some reason, Gumshoe outright glared at Phoenix. Phoenix was getting used to his misplaced ire over Xirneohp, but what did Maggey have to do with this? If anything, he should be thanking Phoenix for refusing to help the competition. “That’s out of line, pal! Haven’t you heard of basic human decency?”

           “In a courtroom? No.”

           “He’s got you there,” Maya said wisely. “When Nick’s putting the ‘Nick’ in ‘panicked’, then he can do some pretty sketchy stuff –“

           “And you call me the narc?!”

           “The courtroom doesn’t matter.” Gumshoe was still scowling at Phoenix. Of course it’s only Phoenix who gets treated like this. Edgeworth insults Gumshoe all day and he’s still his biggest fan. “I told you specifically to read out the autopsy report so Prosecutor Godot could record it into his PDA. Then he always labels it with that funny little label maker of his. You gotta get your ears cleaned out, pal.”

           Phoenix turned to Maya and Pearl, silently pleading for backup. Gumshoe was making Phoenix doubt his own sanity. Normally he just made Phoenix think he was losing it.

           But Maya just looked tragically disappointed in him. “Nick…you didn’t even let Godot label it with his funny little label maker?”

           Desperately, Phoenix rounded on Pearl. He was ready to fake tears. But Pearl just looked ready to whale on him with her little fists. “How could you, Mr. Nick? I didn’t get to see Mr. Godot’s cassette recorder! I’ve always wanted to touch one!”

           “Ah, Prosecutor Godot’s things are always super fun to touch!” At least Gumshoe looked sufficiently cheered up. “His bumpy labels make no sense to me, but I think they’re super cool. Like a secret code or something. But Prosecutor Godot always dumps coffee on my head when I mess around with them…makes me put ‘em back in order, then he says I’m doing it wrong, and…I won’t say I miss the whip, but prosecutors can be so rough sometimes.”

           Wait. Hold on a minute. Several different small pieces clicked into place, and Phoenix’s familiar trusty intuition began to churn its gears. Phoenix raised one finger, and Gumshoe instinctively ducked. “Detective…that label maker wouldn’t happen to be a Braille label maker, would it?”

           Gumshoe brightened, nodding voraciously. Then he apparently remembered he was angry at Phoenix, and started scowling instead. “Yeah, that’s what he called it! And I’ve just caught ya in a contradiction, pal! You said I didn’t tell you about the bumpy label maker. But you obviously knew what it was, didn’t you? You really were lacking human decency on purpose, weren’t you!”

           Cool. Phoenix wished he was dead.

  Both girls looked at Phoenix immediately, correctly deducing the return of his consistent suicidality but uncertain of the cause. Phoenix pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. “Braille is an alphabet for the blind. You read it by feeling little bumps with your fingers. Apparently Prosecutor Godot is some level of blind. And apparently nobody saw fit to tell us this.”

“Did we gotta?” Gumshoe asked blankly. “Mr. Godot doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Yes, you gotta! Now I look like some kind of - you know!”

Sure enough, Maya was giving him the most judgmental look he’d ever seen. Her face when full-ass adult Maximillian admitted that he had asked a sixteen year old to marry him was nothing in comparison. “You were bullying the blind, Nick? I can’t believe you!”

What was it, bully Phoenix for something that was not his fault week? “It’s his fault for not saying anything -”

“Victim blaming?!”

“I thought he was just being an as - jerk again! It’s not exactly out of character!”

“Ableism,” Maya denounced. Phoenix drooped. “I can’t believe it. I expected better from you, Nick.”

“I’m literally ADHD, don’t give me this -”

“Who isn’t autistic?” Maya said frankly. “That doesn’t count.”

“Plenty of people in this world are neurotypical, Maya.” 

He’d had to explain this multiple times. Sometimes she even made him doubt himself. It wasn’t as if he knew neurotypical people. The people in Phoenix’s life either knew they were neurodivergent or thought that normal people were the freak. Most fell into the later category. Unfortunately. Lana wasn’t winning sister of the year, but Ema’s diagnosis and Ritalin prescription was probably his sole link to sanity during that case. Phoenix had a conspiracy theory that Gumshoe plus Ritalin would produce a shockingly competent person. Like everybody else on the prosecutor’s side, he had no idea.

There was no way Edgeworth knew he was autistic, but Phoenix was softening him up for the revelation. He had to take it slow. Couldn’t afford for him to run off to the Philippines to find himself and then come home acting as if he invented autism. Again. Like he did with homosexuality. Shut up about the German discotheques, Edgeworth!

“Mr. Godot is blind?” Pearl gasped. Horrifically, Phoenix was relieved that she knew what blind people were. “Is that why he couldn’t read? And you made fun of him! That’s bullying, Mr. Nick!”

This was a thousand times worse coming from Pearl. “I wouldn’t say I made fun of him,” Phoenix said evasively. “If anything, I really think he’s been bullying me.” This did not impress Maya and Pearl, who somehow only looked more disappointed in him. Phoenix began to sweat. “I got nothing against the disabled, guys. They’re - like, they’re fine! Some of my best friends are -”

“Autism doesn’t count,” Maya said frostily. “You’ll never get your Disability Awareness and Inclusion Girl Scout badge at this rate, Nick.”

“I - am I a nine year old girl now? Seriously?”

Pearl straightened, eyes widening. “I’m a nine year old girl!” Phoenix gestured towards her, emphasizing the handful of differences between them. Gumshoe nodded vigorously. “Can I get a disability aware badge? I’m aware of disabled people!” Left unsaid: unlike Phoenix, apparently. Yet another difference between him and nine year old girls.

“You aren’t a Girl Scout,” Phoenix said, exhausted. “If that’s something you’re interested in, we can sign you up -”

“Girl Scouts! That’s a great idea. I was a Girl Scout way back when. It was awfully rewarding.” Gumshoe gave Pearl a big thumbs up, as if he hadn’t casually dropped the most insane bomb of all time and promptly moved on. “You’re probably overqualified for the Legal Expert and Fortune Teller badges. You could really make it!”

That was it. They had lost her. Pearl rolled her sleeves up, puffing out her chest with pride, and before Phoenix could react she had already turned around and pushed the lobby doors open. They swung open with a theatrical flair, revealing -

Godot, just on the other side of the doors. Judging by his somewhat harried look and unbalanced stance, he had also just barely managed to avoid door-to-face impact. Or, more likely, door-to-visor impact. 

Pearl either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She jabbed a finger at Godot, who still seemed dazed from the unintentional assault. “I’m taking your case, Mr. Godot! I’ll be your co-counsel! I’ll find you innocent of all charges - um, not that!”

“I lost all innocence a long time ago,” Godot said darkly. He pushed past them, flagrantly brushing off everybody. “If you wish to scout for something, scout for that. It ought to distract you from standing around and wasting time with meaningless gossip.”

Phoenix winced. He didn’t seem very happy. But he never really did - cheerful and amused, frequently, but almost never actually happy. “Uh, hey, man. I’m really sorry about - in my defense, you were actively hiding it -”

“Classic defense attorney,” Maya announced. “Always defending himself!”

“Mr. Edgeworth says that the attorney who represents himself has a fool for a client,” Pearl said helpfully, blissfully unaware of that one time Phoenix had to defend himself against a murder charge. Edgeworth had known. Obviously. 

“Save your pity, Trite. Save it for the courtroom. So you can pity yourself.” Godot held up one hand, not even bothering to aim it in Phoenix’s direction. “Out of all of your victims, of course you would pity yourself the most.”

“Dude,” Phoenix said, “did I, like, ghost you the morning after or something? I’m sorry about it, but becoming a lawyer because I didn’t text you back is a little weird.”

“A little weird?” Gumshoe said, baffled. “That’s a crazy accusation, Wright. Who would become a whole lawyer because of a guy?” Phoenix looked at the ceiling. Godot coughed. “I don’t like the sound of that cough, pal.”

“For whom does the bell toll, Detective?” Godot said. Maya looked actively distressed as she attempted and failed to decipher what the fuck he meant by that. “I’ll see you all in court. Prepare yourselves. I don’t intend on losing to the likes of you.”

He turned on his heel, striding down the hallway and escaping them all as quickly as possible. Pearl gasped, and she immediately let go of Maya’s hand so she could set off barrelling down the hallway. “Hold on! Wait for me, Mr. Godot!”

Godot didn’t look back. But he did slow until Pearl caught up, and when she shoved her little hand in his large one he didn’t pull away. 

Gumshoe scratched his chin. Maya squinted at the departing duo, obviously wondering how Godot knew where to take a left turn at the hallway. Phoenix made a mental note of it too. For a blind guy, he was really familiar with the courthouse…which meant that Phoenix’s mistake was perfectly reasonable! Anybody would make it! “Just double checkin’. You two are actually cool with sending off a little girl with the sketchiest grown man ever? Completely unsupervised and stuff?”

What, seriously? Phoenix and Maya glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you can’t trust your coworkers,” Maya intoned seriously, “you can’t trust anybody. Nobody’s more trustworthy than a real lawyer.”

“And Edgeworth recommended him,” Phoenix pointed out. “Good enough for me. The state of California would never have certified him as a defense attorney if he wasn’t trustworthy.”

“That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about the law to dispute it,” Gumshoe said cheerfully, displaying a chain of logic that had proven extremely convenient for Phoenix over the years. Maya had once tricked Gumshoe into letting them into a crime scene by pretending that there was a legal holiday once a year where every law and police procedure was inverted. “Don’t we got a trial to hit, anyway?”

“Shit!”

Pearl’s inaugural performance as the prosecution’s co-counsel/imouto went off without a hitch. Phoenix couldn’t be prouder of her efforts. She played her part perfectly: from the well-timed timed motivational encouragements to tension-relieving funny quips, she was a natural. Her only experience co-counseling with Phoenix had been very stressful for her, so Phoenix was happy to see her shine with confidence. Pearl Fey was truly suited for villainy.

She even went above and beyond into the role of personal assistant imouto. She carefully managed the presented evidence, holding up the right photograph or blood-stained object for the purview of the court. Pearl read out any written reports, described the evidence that Phoenix presented, and reported on any notable body language. Phoenix wasn’t sure if Godot knowing that ‘the Defense looks like you ate the last onigiri he was saving for lunch…’ was remotely helpful, but it was cute. Godot better realize how lucky he was to have such a top-quality imouto at his side today. It confused the judge, but what didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” the judge said, as Pearl carefully withdrew a generic white coffee mug from a large box underneath the table. Seemingly…filled with more mugs.  “Doesn’t that little girl belong to the Defense?”

“The Defense is loaning her out today,” Phoenix said seriously. Pearl began wrangling a coffee pot the size of her head. “Don’t worry, it’s not a conflict of interest.”

“I see!” Pearl carefully tipped the large pot into the white mug. It spilled everywhere, but coffee was poured. “And what is a ‘conflict of interest’?”

“Obscure old legal term. Don’t worry about it.” Pearl reached over the table and attempted to slide the mug towards Godot, as the unlucky draftee from the audience always did. He just pointed at a random pot in the crowd and told somebody that they were in charge of his coffee today. Terribly unorganized way to do things. 

“Watch it, you senile old man. The Defense is distracting you with outdated legal concepts. Focus on the most important aspect of this case!” Why was only the prosecution allowed to insult the judge! Why were they the only ones allowed to get away with that! Seriously unfair! As if Phoenix didn’t want to strangle the judge with his own two hands too?!

The mug scooted forward a little, but barely moved. Pearl scowled and tried again, sliding the mug forward a few inches and sloshing coffee over the side again. Pearl huffed in frustration before carefully cupping her hand around the mug and pushing it forward as she walked down the table. 

Godot cupped his hand on the table and let Pearl push the cup into his hand. Then he slammed the table, throwing his head back and chugging the entire mug of steaming hot coffee in one go. He slammed the mug back on the table. Pearl carefully retrieved it. 

“The fact that the old man and this fake Frenchman saw the accused put poison in the cup!” Godot announced. “That’s one fact that can’t be denied! Not by a reliable witness!”

Pearl clapped. Godot patted her on the head. Phoenix groaned.

Phoenix got his way - as usual - by the skin of his teeth - as usual. He was going to have a heart attack before he was thirty at this rate. Phoenix and Maya waited in the courtroom lobby for almost fifteen minutes before Pearl finally came running up to them. She was beaming, cheeks flushed red with pride. 

“Great job out there today, Pearl!” Maya cheered, clapping her hands. Yeah - a little too good. Godot’s performance in court was way smoother than last time. Maybe he was just getting his sea legs, but Phoenix never underestimated the power of young girls pursuing merit badges. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Nuh-uh! Mr. Godot said he’s gonna take me out for ice cream!” Pearl thrust her hand out, shining the biggest, wettest gaze directly into his eyes. “Can I have money for ice cream, Nick? Please?”

“Typically speaking, when you take people out for food, you’re the one paying,” Phoenix said flatly. “Mr. Godot’s on a prosecutor’s salary and I’m representing a waitress. He can pay.” 

“Mr. Godot doesn’t get paid,” Pearl said frankly. “He said he does it for the love of the game.”

This was somehow the most surprising thing he’d heard all day and completely predictable. 

Maya frowned, tilting her head. It was a gesture he’d seen in Mia a thousand times. Even after all this time, Maya still hurt him in those little ways. “Prosecutors get paid by the government. How do you legally work for the government and not get paid?”

“Maybe he’s a volunteer?” Phoenix suggested. “People volunteer at places, right? Like…in zoos?”

“That makes sense!” Maya said brightly, clapping her hands together. “Zoos, a court of law…what’s the difference, right?”

“After we’re done with it, not much.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t meet the parrot,” Pearl said, crushed by the immovable weight of the world’s injustices. “I wanted to make friends. We have so much in common.”

Maya sympathetically patted Pearl’s back. “You do! You’re both so good at imitating voices! Maybe one day Phoenix can cross-examine you too, huh?”

Nope. No. No way! “Not happening. I’ve accused every imouto I’ve ever had of murder on the stand. Pearl’s merciless enough, we can’t take that chance. She wouldn’t make it a day in prison.” 

“Sounds like a you problem,” Maya said, unimpressed. “Godot would never accuse an imouto of murder. He’s a bro like that.”

“He’s a prosecutor, it’s not his job -”

“Apparently being a prosecutor isn’t his job either.”

“You’d make an unemployed man pay for my ice cream?” Pearl demanded. “For shame, Mr. Phoenix Wright!”

Phoenix sighed and pulled out his wallet. He didn’t know why he wasted time pretending this wasn’t going to happen. Pity he wasn’t in the habit of accepting the inevitable. His life would be a lot easier.