#there are like. four people he is polite with

[professionalchaoticdumbass]

btw nearly every us-focused political news is going to look like this for the next four years:

trump/musk/gop & co. announce intent to do Bad Thing

people react with anger and fear

journalist or social media blogger says "he can't legally do Bad Thing, there is This Law preventing him from doing so"

everyone agrees and gets hopeful

Bad Thing is enacted anyways

shock and despair as if this hasn't happened on repeat for the past ten fucking years

[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART TEN.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

1.4k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around (more) 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy ? (very)

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten.

You woke up to kisses raining on your face like morning dew, fresh and new, catching the dim light. In many ways, it was similar to being woken up by a puppy, with less drool, and only slightly better breath. A soft laugh escaped your lips, the sound hoarse of a voice not quite awake.

"What the hell are you doing—" 

He laughed too, from deep in his chest. "Couldn’t resist your sleepy face."

"I thought you hated the A.M…" you grumbled, barely managing to speak, each word interrupted by yet another kiss baptising your skin. "You always this clingy in the morning?..."

"You always this shy in the morning?" He teased, mirroring you, and you huffed, giving in. Not that your annoyance was sincere. His whims and affections made you mellow, your bones like cartilage, malleable, he could bend you without breaking you. You wanted it to last forever, his lips wearing you down to the marrow.

"You need to stop." you sighed to him with half a word and half your heart.

"But you’re so soft." His honeyed words melted into your skin, muffled against your cheek. You just whined in response.

Eventually, he found the strength to drag himself away and into the small kitchen. His absence soon left you cold, and it didn’t take long for you to follow him.

"You’re making breakfast?" you asked, still soft from his warmth.

"No, I’m preventing you from poisoning us with oatmeal or whatever other war crime you were planning." He shot you a look. "Like beans."

Your face twisted in mock offense. "Hey! Beans are a perfectly respectable breakfast food."

"Yeah. If you got no taste buds left." He was already pulling things from the cupboards, moving like he knew exactly what he was doing. Unfair, really. You barely knew what lived in those cupboards anymore—not since he started ‘helping’ with the grocery shoplifting…

You squinted at him. "You do realize that just because something’s soft doesn’t mean it’s bad, right?"

"Yeah? Then why’d you whine when I called you soft earlier?"

Your brain short-circuited for a second. "I—that’s not—shut up."

He grinned like a cat, mischief curling at the edges of his mouth. With a wink, he reached for the pan, cracking eggs with effortless ease. One-handed, barely looking, like he’d done this a hundred times before. "Easin’ you in slow," he mused, the yolks spilling golden into the heat. "Somethin’ simple. Soft. Pre-chewed, just how you like it."

You glared at him.

He pointed a fork at you like a teacher scolding a bad student. "See, you gotta have flavor. None of that beige nonsense. Food gotta be loud. Gotta have somethin’ to say."

You snorted. "It’s still just scrambled eggs. Didn’t realize breakfast was political."

Hobie smirked, churning the eggs. "Everything’s political, love."

You watched as he worked, moving with the kind of confidence that suggested he absolutely knew better than you. He toasted the bread in the pan with butter—refusing, on principle, to use the toaster—like some kind of toast puritan. Every movement was deliberate, precise, as if the fate of the entire breakfast hinged on whether the crust turned just the right shade of golden.

Then came the plating. Ridiculous effort for two people sitting in a cramped kitchen, but Hobie was serious about the presentation, stacking the eggs just so, adjusting the angle of the toast, even wiping the edge of the plate with exaggerated precision. Like this wasn’t a thrown-together meal, but a statement.

You raised an eyebrow at the creation before you. Eggs atop golden-buttered toast, aggressively dusted with black pepper, because, as per his own words, "Mild food is a crime."

"Very fancy," you teased, nudging his elbow.

"Course it is," he shot back, already digging into his own plate like he hadn’t just spent five minutes assembling it like a Renaissance painting.

You rolled your eyes but took a bite anyway. It was… fine. Good, even. But not the revolutionary experience he had built it up to be. Hobie, of course, was watching you like a chef waiting for a critic to award him.

"Well?"

You chewed thoughtfully, then shrugged. "You won’t win a Michelin star, but I’ll allow it."

Hobie let out a scoff of deep offense. "Unbelievable. You wouldn’t know good food if it bit ya."

You grinned, shaking your head as you took another bite, letting the warmth of the food settle in.

After eating, neither of you moved right away. The plates sat forgotten on the counter as you lounged together, your bodies naturally gravitating toward each other like the pull of a tide. At some point, Hobie stretched out on the bed, arms folded behind his head, long legs crossed at the ankles. You followed suit, lying beside him, your head resting against his shoulder like it belonged there.

Hobie grabbed an old newspaper, flipping through it like a child looking for the comic strip on the last page.

"You know you read the paper like an old man, right?" you said, watching him flip a page with exaggerated disinterest.

"Mmm." He barely acknowledged you, flipping to another section. "What’s the crossword say? Bet it’s ‘bout some posh twat’s third divorce."

You rolled your eyes, although your smile couldn’t lie, standing up to the sink to rinse out your plate. "You realize we have places to be, right?"

"Do we, though?" He dragged the words out, stretching.

"Yes. Some of us have jobs."

Hobie made an exaggerated ugh noise, tossing the paper onto the counter. "You say that like ya like it."

"I do," you argued before flicking some water at him from your fingertips.

As you put on your shoes, he sighed theatrically, finally getting up. "Fine, fine. Let’s get ya to your precious flower shop before the economy crumbles without ya."

"Appreciate your sacrifice."

The route was familiar, the city wrapped in a grey fog, damp air clinging to your skin. The only difference was that this time, you weren’t alone. Out of the bus, you stuck to the edge of the sidewalk, dodging puddles, while Hobie strutted right through them like he had some personal agenda against staying dry.

The flower shop’s familiar green storefront came into view, the little bell above the door jingling as you stepped inside. Warmth greeted you, along with the soft scent of lilies and freshly cut stems.

Routine settled in fast. The morning lull of slow, idle tasks, refilling the flower buckets, trimming stems, checking orders. 

Hobie had claimed his usual spot behind the counter, going through a dusty botanical book. He nudged you, turning the book towards you, pointing at a page on fungi. "Mushrooms are really punk. Grow in filth, breakdown the system, and if you pick the wrong one, you’re dead. Respect."

You barely got the time to laugh or think of an answer before he bugged you with something else.

"An’ look at this one," he flipped to one of the first pages on ivy, "clingy, invasive, suffocates its host. It’s the definition of capitalism." 

You chuckled at his antics, when the radio crackled to life, the classical music replaced by a news segment.

"...growing unrest in the city as protests continue to escalate..."

You paused mid-knot, fingers tightening around the ribbon.

"...clashes reported near..."

Another burst of static interrupted the words before they came through clearer, sharper.

"...authorities responding with force..."

The mood in the shop shifted. The hum of soft routine gave way to something heavier.

Your eyes flicked to Hobie. His posture had changed, still casual, still leaning back, but there was something sharper in his gaze now, something calculating.

The radio crackled again. More updates. More tension.

"So…" you started, hesitant. "I guess I won’t be seeing you often?"

He looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "Dunno." He seemed focused on the old radio.

You gulped. This wasn’t going to cut it for you. You wanted to know, to feel, to see what he saw and breathe the same air he did. Maybe you’d understand.

"Can I… Maybe… Come with you?" you didn’t know where that came from. "To a protest."

His silence stretched into an uncomfortable emptiness. Your heartbeat quickened as you imagined his response. He might laugh at you, or blame you for never having bothered before. Maybe he was going to call you out on something else.

He was just thinking, "Sure. If you want." he shrugged lazily, and you swallowed down your nervousness. "There’s a peaceful march going on later this week. You can come with me." 

Maybe peaceful marches weren’t what toppled the system, but they were a way in. A place for people to see, to learn, to step into something bigger than themselves. Surely that would be a nice way to introduce you.

If you like it there, stop there, I've been busy writing bad angst (sorry)

Tags: @hoe-bie

[csprint]

manspreading is okay when it’s svt doing it. im sorry my principles aren’t strong.

req cont’d: so how they manspread basically what im asking

csprint: hunting for svt manspreading pics truly stressed me out. cheol is the only member that should not get a free pass cause fuck is his problem?!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

seungcheol

the worst offender. he takes up more space than necessary, constantly adjusting his hips. a menace on public transportation.

jeonghan

he’s already a pretty leg crosser. he manspreads pretty as well. almost ✨ e l e g a n t l y ✨.

joshua

casually manspreading to the extreme. often enhancing it with strategically-placed folded hands across his stomach. licks his lips. it’s insane.

jun

his arms folded across his chest or hands on his knees + manspread combo is not for the weak.

hoshi

sort of polite about it. usually does it when he’s not sitting next to anyone. or if he does, he’ll still spread in his own space. hands folded between his legs.

wonwoo

he’s got the nastiest manspread but counters it by almost always sitting prim, proper, and not to mention in a compact position, with his legs crossed as tightly as they could.

woozi

absolutely lethal, never-before-seen variation of manspread going on with this one. elevates his feet, bro.

dokyeom

inviting manspreading. showing you what’s for dinner, type. arms going along with his inexplicable need to take up as much space as possible.

mingyu

honestly surprised he’s not as bad as most of the members but he’s still kinda in your face about it. he’s got long legs and thick thighs, so he gotta let it breathe sometimes.

minghao

another one with a pretty manspread. like in a powerful and intimidating way. leaning back + head resting on hand combo.

seungkwan

also not as bad but does it more often than you’d think. makes this horrible male act look insanely hot and have you saying pick me, choose me, love me.

vernon

a chronic manspreader. gets so bad at times, once forced three people to adjust to the space of his legs on a bench. four if you count the one having no other choice but to sit on his leg.

dino

his dedication to proper posture is serious. so when he manspreads, that back of his gonna be straight as hell. knows his hyung got terrible back pains. but not him, though.

[gollancz]

Dr Tingle is not a Gollancz author, but I wanted to share this because the points he's making also apply to a lot of our books (and many books besides).

In particular, I'd like to note that we were, back in the day, the original publisher of Orwell's NINETEEN EIGHTY-FOUR, which we reissued as part of our SF Masterworks a couple of years ago.

Orwell's observations seemed prescient to today's world, but it's also important to remember that they were a satire of the politics at the time he was living in. He wasn't extrapolating to a far flung future as a thought experiment, he was making a point of the present day.

Also in our SF Masterworks is SWASTIKA NIGHT by Murray Constantine, which imagines an alternate future where the Nazis ruled and the world it creates. This isn't a retrospective, like FATHERLAND. SWASTIKA NIGHT first published - again, by Gollancz, as part of his Leftist Book Club (one day I'll do a post about that) - in 1937. Katharine Burdekin (a lesbian writing under a male pseudonym) wasn't taking wild ideas and making a dystopia, she was writing about the dystopia she was literally seeing built before her eyes.

Another of our writers, @lrlamauthor, in a book published by Wildfire, wrote GOLDILOCKS, an incredible feminist SF. At the time, some reviewers claimed the imagined future where women's rights were rolled back so extremely was a fallacy, attempting to make a heavy-handed point. GOLDILOCKS published in 2020. Roe vs Wade was overturned two years later.

While @jonnywaistcoat's horror features ghosts and ghoulies and monsters, what drives them all is greed, social inequality, and the power that certain segments of the population have over the disenfranchised. THIRTEEN STOREYS has a wealthy man sacrificing others for his own enrichment. FAMILY BUSINESS demonstrates how disposable people can be if deemed unimportant enough.

These stories deliver the gut punches they do because they reflect the realities around them and it's uncomfortably, uncomfortably close to the world in which we're living.

shooting the messenger

something you learn writing SOCIAL HORROR of any kind is there is just a huge portion of buckaroos who will always think the political things being reflected in art are not real or overblown, and theyre almost always wrong. i believe love wins out, but there ARE scoundrels to battle on our way there

in my first horror novella STRAIGHT the buds are going out to a cabin three years after first annual zombie day because theres a vaccine. theyre acting normal. amount of early reviews docking stars for 'being unrealistic that folks would return to acting normal in just three years' is HILARIOUS now

in BURY YOUR GAYS there are were some folks all the way up until a few weeks ago who would review and say something like 'loved the book but this issue is over. queer media is mainstream'. YET SUDDENLY we now have pride days getting removed from official calendars, gay media deleted, flags banned

so point is IM RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING. just kidding. although i am. BUT ACTUALLY my point is that HORROR taps into something SO important. it taps into fear yes, but it also taps into a subliminal deep knowledge that culture KNOWS but most people are not ready to hear yet. it is a MESSENGER genre

maybe that is why i talk to much about connection between PUNK and HORROR. both strong messenger genres, and how fitting that we have whole idioms about 'killing the messenger'. these artistic expressions are often maligned as 'too much' because sometimes the truth is hard to hear and feel and read

all of this is to say I AM SO PROUD to trot here in the world of uncomfortable truths with you. im also deeply honored, and it is fight i will not back down from. fortunately WITH LOVE AS OUR FUEL this is battle we will win. that is a truth i am certain of, so lets HOIST THE FLAG OF LOVE AND TROT ON

PS: as far as pointed messages go, my next book LUCKY DAY has a ferocious way and sure as heck isnt pulling any punches. give it a preorder if you can

[that-butch-archivist]

"I have a thin stack of photographs from my fiftieth birthday party. This morning I've drawn them from a crumpled white envelope to look at them for the first time since that evening. I've delayed looking--the weight the pictures carry is heavy. That night there were flowers, candles, jazz, blues, and salsa, party favors that uncurled like snakes, and a huge sugary cake. My two beautiful grown sons and I and my beloved Leslie gathered with friends in an echoing room. There I usually sat at long tables in political meetings, shoulder to shoulder with others, listening, talking, our hands busy stuffing envelopes for our next demonstration. But that night the room was transformed with balloons, streamers, banners--and photographs everywhere. Leslie had set up tall cardboard stands with pictures documenting my "fifty years of love and struggle." At the center were pictures of me and my sons. [...] Them at seven and eight, sitting knee to knee on top of my VW bug--I am standing by the open car door, one hand turning nervously against the other. I'm about to drive the children back to their father, who wrested custody of them from me. He has had me declared an unfit mother, because I am a lesbian. In all the pictures of us together we are smiling. There are no snapshots of the moments of terrible pain--the images that flash through memory over and over, like a home movie of agony. [...] Perhaps every family album has these private pictures, the stories we try to guess at from a few hidden whispers and the grief-struck eyes above someone's smiling mouth. [...] This is the family album of one of the many of us who have been told that we are not fit to have a family, told that we can stay in the family only if we are quiet and invisible, told not to "flaunt" our life, not to make a scene. [...] One June day, in his teenage years, my oldest called to talk about a video he'd just seen on public television, a documentary about gay families. I said to him, "You know, I've never asked how you've felt about my being a lesbian, how you think it's affected you." And he said, "Your being a lesbian didn't affect me. What hurt me was not being able to have you with me." My story is but one of many, that of a woman who mothered her children almost in isolation for years. Who struggled to hold them as a family even though the law decreed that they could not enter her home if she shared it with another adult. Who strove to teach them connection to the forbidden others in her life, those who might give them a new kind of family, a different kind of world, where no people would lose their family because of hatred against how they love or the color of their skin, because of their despised femaleness or their poverty. [...] I unfold the creased envelope. The pictures from that birthday night show the four of us standing awkwardly together. One son smiles but looks down; the other frowns, turned inward. My smile is tense, Leslie's face is drawn and tired from a recent illness. Yet beyond that snapshot are moments when we are smiling. The four of us piling into a car later that night, crammed in with presents, cards, chrysanthemums, and cake, laughing giddily that we are like a clown car in the circus, like a party ready to burst out when a door opens, everything in hand that we need for another feast. [...] We have fought to claim our lives with each other despite years that we have been physically, forcibly, separated. Despite years of no words to explain to others what we are to each other. How--despite what law, custom, religion may say--we are heart of each others' hearts."

-- Excerpted from "Family Album," Minnie Bruce Pratt's foreword for Love Makes A Family: Portraits of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Parents and Their Families. (Emphasis in bold my own.)

Year of publication: 1999

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 16

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- It gets pretty angsty this chapter & the next few chapters! I hope the girlies can work this one outttt…🤞🏻 Please like and reblog, it means so much to me! <3 ALSO I’ll be posting twice a week again starting next week. Tuesdays and Thursdays!😌

Remy’s POV

I looked at the time on my dashboard, anxiously tapping my foot against the weather mat in my car. It was 4:15pm and they were still not here. I don’t know what the hell the crack I was smoking earlier was laced with when I thought there was even a slight chance of me getting to San Jose by car on time. I searched for the fastest, cheapest flight out of LAX I could find, and booked it.

If I could get out of here and to the airport by 5:30pm, I’d make it on my flight on time and get to the concert by 8pm the absolute latest.

I got out of my car, headed straight to the women’s restroom, when I saw Joe and three other slightly younger men sitting at a table. They were loud, drinking out of fancy cocktail glasses, and barely even noticed me walk by. I made my way over to the table, probably looking confused and a little bit pissed off.

“I didn’t see you guys come in?” I stood by their table. The four of them turned to look, fixing their eyes on certain attributes, before Joe got up to pull my chair out so I could sit. His hand grazed my lower back, his touch invading my personal space, as I sat in the chair.

“Well, we were at the bar at first, getting a couple drinks.” Joe sat back down after me, reintroducing me to the corporate bodies next to me. His hand rested on my shoulder as I mentally took myself out of my own body to get through dinner.

“Would you like to order anything? We have sushi coming out any minute. You want a drink? It’s on the company card tonight.” One of the men, Victor, offered.

“I’m okay, Victor, thank you.”

“Please, call me Vic.” He insisted.

I nodded, smiling politely, wanting to get on with the reason I was here.

I began to bring up my ideas, explaining what Rachel and I wanted to do, and even opened up the opportunity for Joe to tell them how much he likes my writing. I felt like I was just there to be stared at, like a museum display that no one bothered to read the inscription on.

I watched as they looked me up and down while I spoke, taking their time to notice the square neckline held up by my ribbon shoulder straps. I tugged at the hem of my red dress, feeling exposed and in the wrong company. I very quickly noticed they weren’t really interested in what I had to say.

They would interrupt to compare what I was saying to something that didn’t really relate, as well as direct questions toward Joe, that should’ve been for me.

I found myself fighting to get a word in, as the room would fill with laughter due to their inability to be serious.

“Seriously. How many time a day do you need to make copies for this guy, huh?” The one named Connor joked.

I fake laughed, asking myself if this was even worth it at all. Maybe this is how they network. Maybe this is how I get in with the important people, I lied to myself. I had to play the game.

“So, Michael.” I put a hand on his arm, leaning in and noticing a wedding ring on his finger. “What’s good to drink here?”

I noticed his demeanor a little flustered, flipping through the drink menu for me. Side eyeing, I caught a glimpse of Connor looking at my legs. I gracefully cross them, showing off a little more skin.

Michael waved a waiter over, ordering me a Cosmopolitan. I hated cosmos. I smiled at him with my eyes. I sipped it anyway, making sure to be delicate and proper, unlike them.

“Are you sure you want to be writing these things, instead of posing for them?” Vic said.

“Oh Vic, it’s my dream to be a columnist.” I nodded, flipping my hair behind my shoulder. “Maybe I could show you some of my outlines?” I reached into my purse, pulling out my phone.

“You can just email those to us, sweetheart.” Vic shrugged me off.

Upon seeing my phone, I saw I had 4 missed calls from Billie. My stomach dropped, seeing it was 5 o’clock already, making me more anxious by the second.

“Excuse me a minute.” I stood up, sashaying towards the restrooms. I dial Billie, staring at myself in the mirror.

“Helloo.” She answered.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t answer sooner. What’s up?”

“I was checking on you. About what time are you getting here?”

“8pm the latest.”

“But, that’s right when I go on stage.”

“I’ll be there, don’t worry! We’ll do Guess together. Or Bad Guy. Whatever you want.” I adjust my strapless bra and breasts.

“Okay. I’ll see you there, then!” I could hear them sound checking instruments in the background.

“Of course. See you soon.” I hung up.

I walked out, knowing I had to beat traffic to make my flight on time. I sit back down as they feast on sushi. I grab a few pieces, careful not to get any soy sauce on my dress. They continued to talk through me and about me, without even really acknowledging me.

Anytime I contributed to the conversation, I swear they looked at me with pity in their eyes, like I was this ditsy, precious, little thing. It made me hate myself. I wish I was another man they could respect and admire.

“Gentlemen, you’ll have to carry on without me. But I thank you for your time. I had a great time with you.” I began to stand up.

“Oh, please, stay a bit longer!” Michael begged, waving the waiter over to get me another drink.

“Really, I need to get going. But please, enjoy yourselves.” I smiled, rage building inside me.

“Before you leave.” Connor stood up, with a glass of red wine in his hand. “You don’t spend an hour with a young lady like this and not give what she wants.”

I looked over at Joe as he stood too, “Rachel’s office is yours. She’s going to be working remotely from her apartment and we wanted you to have it.”

“The- the office?” I squinted, confused as to what he meant.

“Yes, for now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He laughed, the rest of the men joining him.

I laughed in disbelief. “That‘s not what I wanted-“

“I look forward to those ideas of yours in my inbox tomorrow morning.” Connor leaned in to say goodbye. He hugged me, laying a clammy hand on my lower back.

Michael waited his turn before planting an uninvited peck on my cheek, and Vic gave me a goodbye hug, pressing his chest into mine a little too tight.

I nodded, my head throbbing and spinning from how ridiculous I felt being passed around like an appetizer.

I sped to the airport, making maneuvers I’ve never made before.

I made it 20 minutes before boarding began, going through security with nothing but my small, leather clutch. It didn’t even matter to me that my outfit was getting strange reactions from people passing by.

As if tonight couldn’t get worse, the pilot announced a delay due to an issue with the tarmac. You have to be kidding me. I text Billie I’ll be a little late, but would be there in time for Guess.

The next 2 hours go by and the plane finally lands in San Jose. I shoot out of my seat, not minding the people reaching for their overhead carry ons. All I care about is calling an uber to take me to the arena.

By the time my uber driver pulled up, it was 8:45pm. He did a double take, unlocking his car and greeting me.

“Hello, are you-“

“Remy, yes. I’m going to the SAP Center.”

He looked at me thru the rear view mirror and began to drive, noting my rush. “Is this a special event?”

“Kinda.” I tapped my foot, constantly checking the time. The acid in my stomach created a whirlpool of anxiety.

Eventually, we made it to the venue. I made sure to tip the driver, running as fast as possible, ignoring my aching feet in these heels.

I showed my backstage privileges to security at the door, hoping they wouldn’t hold me up much longer. By almost 9pm, I was finally backstage, where Maggie and Patrick greeted me and offered me food.

“I’m so late, did she already do Guess?”

She nodded. “You just missed it.” She looked like she knew Billie would be upset, like Billie already knew I wouldn’t be on time.

It felt awful, watching Billie do the barricade walk without me, smiling at her fans, taking the time to hold their hands up close. I watched the rest of the concert alone backstage on a screen, while Maggie worked her Support & Feed stand outside.

Once it was over, I stood up, fixing my dress and putting my heels back on.

Billie walked in a few minutes later holding her water bottle and a sweat rag. She looked at me, her head tilted, her brows furrowed, and her mouth slightly parted.

I braced for impact, hoping she wouldn’t be upset.

“What are you wearing?” She put her things down, taking off her rings.

I looked down at my bright red dress, “I had a work event, I didn’t even bother to change-“

“Yeah right. You wore that for work?” She stood, watching me trip over my words.

“It was at a restaurant- it doesn’t matter, I’m here now.” I anxiously laughed, hoping she’d stop focusing on that.

“Is that why you were late? You were eating with that girl? What was her name- Sydney?”

“Stevie, and no, if you must know, it was dinner at Nobu with Joe and a bunch of the executives from Variety.” I crossed my arms.

“Wait, wait, wait. What? Dinner? How’d you have dinner and drive up here, 5 hours away.” Her voice raspy as she tried to catch her breath. She needed her inhaler, I could tell.

“I didn’t. I flew on a plane.” I furrowed my brows. She was so upset, I felt like anything I said would automatically annoy her.

“You flew here? You mean this was your last stop of the night.” She scoffed. “What a waste of fossil fuels.”

“Billie, I’m so sorry, I thought it would work out better than this, and then my flight got delayed- Believe me, I tried my best to get here on time. It’s not my fault!”

“Nothing ever is, is it?” She sat on the couch. “You said you’d be here and you chose whatever the hell you were doing over keeping your promise.” Her voice was low and exhausted.

“Hey! It was for work! I couldn’t miss it! Joe promised it would get me closer to my own column! All three of the execs were there to listen to my ideas.” It stung knowing it wasn’t even worth it. But I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire

“Oh so that’s why you dressed like that! That’s why you’ve been dressing like that. Showing off, thinking it’ll get you in with the elites? Who told you that? Rachel?” She shook her head.

“What are you talking about?” I squinted my eyes.

“You send me pictures in your new work clothes, looking like the secretary every married piece of shit hides from his wife… you don’t even look like yourself anymore. And you’re fine with that. You’re fine with flaking on your friends, and giving yourself up, just to write some bullshit on a magazine no one even reads! You don’t even read it!”

“I- what the fuck do you mean!” I uncrossed my arms, feeling that sting. “I showed up! I’m here, and I tried my best! I’m sorry that I have to make just a few compromises so I can advance in my career!”

“Once you get this promotion you’ll have to make a few more compromises.” She held her fingers up, making air quotations. “And one day, you’re gonna realize you spent your whole life compromising, and never showed up for your friends or for yourself!” At this point, she was shouting. Every word resonated with me, but I didn’t want to face it.

“This is about you not understanding how much this means to me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, I hate what those people have turned you into. Look at your inability to tell people no! Rachel takes advantage of you. She makes you do her work and she gets all the credit, and you let her! And Joe tells you where to be, and what to do whenever he wants! You haven’t taken a day off in so long! Even on weekends he makes you do shit for him! And you’re not even clocked in! You get paid salary, you’re screwing your self over! What- you think they’re giving you overtime? They know you’ll fucking do anything so they made you their bitch! And don’t even get me started on you wearing this shit just so they’ll look your direction!”

“Oh, fucking please! Look who’s talking! As if you even worked a day in your life! You have the perfect voice, the perfect face, you wear whatever the fuck you want, and everyone just fucking throws their money at you! You could show up and scream into the microphone, and still sell out arenas. Everyone says yes to you, whatever you want, whenever you want it, and if there’s ever an issue, you can pay for it to get solved. I have a family to take care of, I have bills to pay! I don’t get to travel the world and be admired! I have to bust my ass to barely make it to the end of the month!”

She stood up, shaking her head, “Oh hell fucking nah! You’re really going to go there? You know the hard work and dedication I’ve-“

“You’d never understand all the hard work and dedication that went into the position I have today-“

She cut me off, “WHAT POSITION? You mean the assistant to the assistant manager bro?”

“No! Thanks to them tonight, I have my own office now! And they asked me to email them my outlines for a new column! You swear I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!”

“OHHH WOW! My bad! She has her own office now! She’s bad as fuck!” She waved me off.

“Yeah, sorry for assuming you’d give a fuck.”

“You lied to me saying you’d be a little late, knowing you were 5 hours away, because you double booked yourself, even though you pinky promised ME you’d show up! You took a flight to make up for your lie and contributed to global warming!! And meanwhile the ICE CAPS ARE MELTING! You know what next time- don’t even show up!” She ranted, throwing her hands in the air, pacing now.

“What about all of the stupid fucking things you’ve bought that you said you’d never buy if you had this kind of money? What about all the cars! Those burn fossil fuels too, genius!”

“I barely even drive them!”

“Exactly!! Stupid!”

“What does that even have to do with any of this?”

Flustered, I found anything to cling onto. “You’re judging me and you don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about! I can’t just drop a band and get whatever I want! I need theis job!”

“You can get any other job you want!”

“No! That’s you!” My speech rapidly increasing in pitch. “Look, Billie, I was trying to be supportive and show up for you, while also worrying about my career. When you couldn’t show up for me because of something happening in yours, I was never an asshole to you!” I pointed at her, watching her expression change.

“When I pinky promise to show up, I show up!” She got closer, staring in my eyes, her voice sharp and aggressive.

“I DID show up!” I looked at her, pronouncing every word forcefully.

“You know what I mean! I wouldn’t be 5 hours away and have to rush over! I would just- BE THERE!” Her voice broke, becoming creaky and guttural.

“Billie. I am trying my fucking best here.” I felt like I was being shot in the heart.

“No! You know how exhausting it is to rely on you, and trust you’ll be there, and every single time I end up disappointed! At some point, it’s not just you thinking about your career, it’s you not thinking about me.” She took a deep breath after finishing out her sentence, wheezing a bit, thanks to her asthma. She grabs her inhaler out of her pocket, taking a hit. I watched her stabilize her breathing. I tried to think of anything to respond with, but I didn’t even know where to start.

Billie continued, “You KNOW he’s using you. You KNOW those pigs aren’t the least bit interested in what’s on your mind. Joe didn’t even care about you until you started walking around the office in a mini skirt!”

“You just can’t fucking believe that one day I could be SOMEONE other than just Billie Eilish’s friend!”

“No? What I can’t believe, is that you’d really let some piece of shit treat you like that in front of people, and not even allow you to grow unless you suck his metaphorical dick. That’s abuse of power and you know it! And you of all people should know I know a thing or two about that!”

“You of all people should know how hard it is to accept it in the first place!” I shut her up.

She glared at me, her eyes glossing and her jaw clenching, like she wanted to cry. She scanned my body, ending her stare at my red, strapped heels.

“Just leave. Don’t worry about squeezing me into your schedule anymore.” She grabbed her things, throwing them in her duffle bag.

[visenyaism]

My cringe great bastard oc is meri flowers she's the daughter of a hot Hightower lady named rhaelene (ostensibly bc she's descended from rhaena of pentos) and was born with pale lavender eyes and gold hair streaked with silver

Anyway her mom was way too busy being hot and agonizing over how aegivn didn't want her to worry about raising this kid who had the audacity to be born female and therefore not be able to be knighted by the king or something so meri is left entirely in the hands of a maester and a nurse both of whom decided fuck it when she was around four bc meri loves debating people taught herself to read and thinks too much about too many things all the time

Therefore meri obviously decided to use all the authority being a Hightower bastard and a King's daughter gives her and makes someone take her to the Citadel where she runs rampant for the next eight years bc lord Hightower is too amused by her antics to stop her so all the Maesters start living in fear of this tiny girl with terrifying eyes popping up in their lecture halls and offices and cornering them with massive books to go "I read your book but I disagree with you why didn't you take into consideration this thing that I read in another book or this other thing hey why are you running away from me" (it's because she usually wins)

She also learns to play the Westerosi equivalent of the violin and sings really well during this time but uses this talent to make up songs about the Maesters she dislikes which are such bops that everyone finds themselves singing them which makes everyone soooooo mad

Anyway when she's like twelve lord Hightower takes her to court to meet her father and tells her beforehand to be very nice and sweet and polite to the King she interprets this to mean "kiss his ass like no one has ever been ass kissed before" and it works she tells him about this prophecy she definitely for real found in a book that says he'll be the greatest targ king since the conqueror and makes up songs about the people he hates and generally makes him really like her

Anyway she is borderline a medieval socialist so she hates him and all her half siblings except shiera who she gets a baby lesbian crush on so she takes no sides when aegivn dies and war breaks out instead she decides to take her little collection of Disaffected Bastard Children of random nobles and runs off to go take down feudalism and then they all disappear in the Riverlands and are never heard from again

Bloodraven immediately propagandizes this claiming that she disappeared on Bracken land and that she was a victim of the blackfyre side and tries to make her a martyr even though he fucking hates her guts bc she once told him he was a slimy little toad who should stop using shiera as the mediator for his obsessive crush on bittersteel

Bittersteel responds by claiming that she actually disappeared on Blackwood land and that she was totally for sure 100% on their side even though she once very loudly told him to leave shiera alone and go suck daemon blackfyre's cock some more in front of half the court

(Shiera thought meri was cute and greatly enjoyed the added spice she introduced into the situationship)

Anyway what happened to meri flowers? Who knows. Except that she probably died as she lived: annoying the shit out of everyone around her god bless her little marxist intellectual ass

Okay disappearing bastard Jonestown in the middle of the riverlands is such an insane concept I love it

[yikesss-08]

—BLESSINGS!

(JJK Megumi × Reader)

Chapter: 8/?

Words: 17, 938

Summary: you're trying to get out of your arranged marriage while trying to balance your growing feelings for your best friend <3

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61532893

▹ chapter two!

A few weeks had passed by and before you knew it summer break was over, just another reason to be unhappy after the fact you couldn't stay in your room and do nothing all day anymore.

The first week of school went by fast, a blur of getting reaccustomed to waking up early and unfortunately doing mundane work to your obvious dismay. It was always made more bearable with Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi there with you as well with your shared classes all together.

As odd as it seemed, you four didn't usually eat lunch together, maybe a few times, but you each went to your separate friends groups. Except for you and Megumi who ate lunch together more often than not.

To Yuji and Nobara, being stuck with everyone (literally you and Megumi) back at the dormitories was already enough. Back at 'real' school was their breath of fresh air and how they 'socialized' in their words...

Yuji who was well-liked on campus and just as well-known with his reputation, mostly hung out with his occult research club friends, Sasaki, Iguchi, and Junpei. He was always scouted by people from the sports and bodybuilding clubs but he always politely declined.

Nobara on the same hand was well-known maybe not as well-liked with her tendency for instigating and gossip since she was the type of person who'd always have the fight video and know about everything before anyone else.

The people who loved her loved and the ones who didn't didn't. But to her, she couldn't care less who thought what of her.

Then there was Megumi. Most people only knew of him through Tsumiki, who to them was the complete opposite of him. Other than the few acquaintances he speaks to now and then about classwork, he sticks to himself and no one goes out of their way to change that.

After 4th period with your friend Hiyori, you two were walking out of the classroom after the bell had rung, idly listening to her gush about her latest boyfriend which transitioned into her convincing you that it was time for you to find yourself one as if that finding a relationship was as easy as just going to the store and picking something up.

"You know, you have the perfect opportunity right in front of you but you're too scared to ask him out." She teased, nodding towards the direction of the aforementioned guy.

"What are you—" you began mid-sentence as you looked over at the end of the sparsely crowded hallway and saw Suna, his dark-brown eyes meeting yours as he gave you a wave.

Hiyori smiles slyly, elbowing you as she watches him walking towards you, the pounding in your chest making it impossible for you to breathe for a moment.

"Y/n, Hiyori, you guys wanna get lunch together?" he asked and gestured towards the lunch room that was accumulating with students, his gaze flitting to you and then to Hiyori.

Hiyori was the first to answer with a quick nod of her head and a warm smile before giving you a knowing look as if to say 'This is your chance.' "Yeah."

You just followed her lead, the nervousness gripping your words and the fear of saying something nonsensical causing you to not say anything at all and nod instead.

"I'll go get Astuko and Tomoya." she grinned, patting your shoulder while her eyes briefly lingered on Suna as she walked away leaving you both alone.

Suna smiled at you sending a hot, flutter to your stomach but your demeanor remained somewhat calm. Your words were finally coming out, calculated but natural, flowing with the conversation that was made up of how class was and how the sports team doing before slipping away into a gradual silence—though not necessarily awkward, but still very nerve-wracking on your part as he stayed right next to you, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

To hide your nervousness, your eyes stay glued onto your phone as you text Megumi a series of panicked, all-capitalized, gibberish texts about your current situation.

You felt the burn of a stare in your peripherals but brushed it off as being imaginary since Suna was still on his phone, but it was shown to be real as you both locked eyes. You quickly averted your eyes but he let a soft hum of amusement accompanied by a smile.

Waiting for you at the usual spot in the school courtyard, Megumi leaned back on the wall lazily scouring through the passing students to try and catch sight of you.

What was taking you so long?

After a few moments he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and he saw you, a sigh he didn't know he was holding in left his lips as he spotted you. His hands were shoved in his pocket as you approached him, his expression more relaxed than usual. "Hey."

You gave him a quick wave as you smiled at him, your lingering anxiety still laced in your slightly fidgety behavior. "Megumi, you wanna get lunch with us?" you ask casually to hide your anxiety futilely.

Us?

He was confused before seeing Suna trailing behind you, his impartial eyes meeting Suna's before he paused. "...No." he answered shortly, hands still in his pocket to keep from rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was feeling awkward. His gaze went to Suna's less-than-welcoming one then to yours.

The last thing he would ever do is willingly put himself in the position to be a third wheel with you and Suna... but he'd at least root for you. From a distance of course.

"You sure? C'mon, you really don't want to?" you tried to persuade him— subtly pleading more than anything—but your attempts were strangled with a simple and succinct shake of his head.

A part of you knew he and Suna didn't exactly act like friends, more like less than cordial acquaintances than anything, but the thought of them getting along seemed nice despite how unrealistic that'd be.

"Aww. Alright then." you slightly frown, your disappointment blatantly evident but you don't push the matter. Before you can say anything else, Megumi gives you a lingering look mumbling some sort of goodbye before he walks off much to your dismay.

You felt a slight pang of guilt at the thought of Megumi having to eat lunch alone but he didn't seem to mind which wasn't exactly odd. It was in his nature to be more inclined to solitude, but you couldn't think of a time when you two didn't eat lunch together.

It was like an implicitly agreed-upon must to make the school day feel a bit more tolerable for both of you.

As you and Suna reached the cafeteria, it was anything but what you expected. The table was full of his unruly friends, most of which you were unfortunately acquainted with by association rather than choice. They didn't exactly make good company with how 'manners' had no place in their vocabulary...

You wanted to eat lunch with him, not them. You frowned, your irritation thinly veiled on your expression. What were you supposed to do? Sit there and try to make conversation with them about who knows what boys talk about for fun?

You give them an awkward wave and a tight smile, sitting down next to Suna with your lunch tray in hand, each of them eyeing you like the outsider you felt like you were.

"Y/n? Why're you here? Don't you usually eat lunch with... what's his name...?" one of his friends, Kashiro, spoke up to say what everyone else was thinking, his finger tapping against the table in forced remembrance. "Damnit, I forgot!"

Another one chimed in, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth, the words coming out muffled. "Megume?"

"Yeah, him." he let out a chuckle only pushing your annoyance closer to the edge as he grinned back at you.

Before you could open your mouth to correct him, Suna also chuckled a tinge of embarrassment on his pink-tinted cheeks at his friends' behavior. "It's Megumi." he corrected, giving you a brief glance. "And I wanted her to get lunch with me."

That answer seemed to appease them enough to get off your case and change the topic to some new game that had come out recently.

He looked at you, leaning in, shoulder brushing yours so he could whisper to you, your heart rate slightly stuttering. "They can be a bit... dense at times, but they're not bad people you know. Just a little... questionable." his reassuring smile gracing your eyes. "I hope they're not making you too..."

You quickly chime in with a shake of your head as you reach for your chopsticks, Suna mirroring your action as he took his own. "No, it's fine. I don't mind them."

Most if not all of them were on the school baseball team, just like Suna, making you excluded even more from their chatter of sports talk and questionable inside jokes you didn't even want to begin to understand.

But Suna didn't join in the conversation like usual, just eating silently and every now and then when they addressed him he'd say something.

You reach for the mandarin on your tray after finishing your food, carefully peeling off its citrusy exterior as you eat a segment, the sourness jolting your taste buds.

He watches your movements for a moment before meeting your gaze. "Did you understand Mr. Girou's lesson? I didn't understand a thing honestly." he admitted sheepishly, taking a bite of rice from his tray.

You let out a soft laugh and raised a curious brow. Despite the idiots he hung around, Suna was smart, had good grades, and was a diligent student. "Really?"

"Well, you're really smart, you probably have it down." he laughed as well, the compliment making your cheeks slightly heat up.

A smile crawled on your lips remembering Hiyori's advice, this was your chance so you took it. "I could always help you study, you know? Sometime after school?"

"I might take you up on that offer soon." he grinned, giving you a slight nudge.

After finishing your mandarin, you spoke up. "I need to wash my hands, I'll be right back," you say, as Suna gives you an affirming nod and smile.

"Try not to get lost." he joked with a butterfly-inducing chuckle as you smiled back at him briefly, rising from your seat. "I'll save your seat."

You gave him an appreciative hum before you whisked past a couple of students to get to the bathroom, the space was relatively empty compared to how crowded it could get during lunch. It didn't take long, just thoroughly washing the stickiness off before drying your dripping hands. And of course, checking your reflection in the mirror.

As you entered the cafeteria again, you stilled in your tracks your eyes trained back at the table you were at before, yet the seat you were just in was taken, someone sitting right next to Suna.

Black shoulder-length hair being the first thing you saw, and when she turned to the side face a laughing Suna, you could see her unmistakable side profile, her wide smile, her brown eyes.

Was that Hiyori?

A tinge of something laced in your expression, but what it was you couldn't tell, yet it wasn't pleasant.

Before you could think to do anything you feel your phone vibrate as you fish it out and see a text from Megumi finally replying to your previous strings of gibberish messages.

Have fun.

Your heart slightly sinks at the text, dampening your already waning mood as the guilt comes back.

Conflicting thoughts on whether you should even go back to the table and tell Hiyori you were sitting there first or sit somewhere else instead stirred in your mind. But a part of you was upset Suna hadn't even told her that seat was taken in the first place.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you turn on your heel, walking down the hallway before you even knew it.

What was the point of even going back?

Slipping into the quietness of the school library, a nice change from the bustling cafeteria, you close the door behind you. You looked past the various rows of large bookshelves filled with hundreds of thick-spined books, to take a glance around.

It always had a specific smell in here, like aging paper and heady, loamy wood, a scent unique to the place.

After a brief moment, you see his distinctive black spiky hair and knew you found him, sitting in the back reading like he always was. Typical Megumi. There weren't a lot of people here either which only helped in finding him, but he was always in the same place anyway.

"There you are." you approach him, your footsteps nearly silent against the thick, woven carpet as you stood in front of the table he was sitting at.

He looks up at you neutrally. The fact you probably only came here because things probably hadn't turned out how you wanted, obvious by the slight frown tugging on your lips, instead of out of genuine concern for his well-being didn't exactly sit well with him. "I'm guessing you didn't have fun. That's why you're here?"

Well, he was laying it on thick...

"Yeah, yeah something like that... but I felt bad too, y'know? Letting you eat lunch alone." you admit in a mumbled tone, your expression as deflated as your mood.

"I have no issues eating alone." he said a bit too quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping in his tone at what he thought was pity coming from you.

You put your hands up in mock surrender trying to lighten up the dimming mood. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to check on you, I know we usually eat lunch together."

You plop down on the chair across from him. "So... How's your lunch been?" you curiously look over, trying to peer at what he was reading this time.

He looked back at his novel, his eyes reading the same sentence over and over mindlessly but not registering what it was saying, you were distracting him. "Fine." he muttered.

"Don't give me that." A frown taints your previous smile, bristled at his curtness.

He meets your gaze, a glint of curiosity in his eyes as he remembers. "Did you read the book I gave you?" There was an undercurrent of doubt in his tone.

But for once you could actually confidently prove him wrong, which only added a layer of smugness to your expression. "I actually did." you grinned, expecting some sort of praise.

"How far did you get through?" he probes instead, crossing his arms, slightly satisfied that you even read it.

You pause in recollection, trying to remember the sleep-hazed memory from how reading it was an impulsive late-night idea to try and get off your phone. "...Like maybe seven...? No, definitely eight."

He looks unamused once again. "Of course."

"Hey now, I was tired... I actually tried to start reading some of it." you mirror him, crossing your arms as you as an indignant huff left your lips.

He stifles the urge to roll his eyes.

He wouldn't admit but he just wanted you two to be able to talk about something you both knew. After all both his tastes and yours varied, sometimes and sometimes not aligning.

It'd be nice just being able to talk to you about it, hear you talk about what you thought of it, how it made you feel, whether it was good or not. The same way he'd listen to your mindless rants about your favorite band or maybe a movie you had watched.

But those cherished rants were coming less and less often and being replaced with stupid conversations about Suna.

God, he was starting to hate that name despite how much he tried to support your crush on him.

"...How was it? Did you eat?" he asked, a part of him knowing it didn't go well with how you weren't rambling on and on happily about how this or that happened.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably at the mention. "It was something... it's whatever though. And yeah, I did." you did a lazy stretch before you crossed your arms on the table, your head finding its way to nestle comfortably on top. Your eyes flit one more to Megumi's, meeting his gaze. "Wake me up when lunch ends?"

He gave you a simple nod, watching your eyelids rest peacefully for an extended moment, his mind a cloudy storm of conflicting thoughts he wasn't ready to admit.

A silence blanketed you both again, only interrupted slightly every time he gingerly thumbed a page.

For you, it was another break, another sliver of well-needed serenity. To temporarily forget about anything else but the current moment.

But to him this was a reminder of everything he was slowly starting to lose, starting to get less and less of.

And that wasn't a pleasant feeling, the idea that you were even slightly beginning to drift away…

.

.

.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! ^^

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61532893

[ruins-of-tragedy]

Thoughts on season one's episode four to seven of RWBY coming right up... Or down I guess.

Season 01 Episode 04: The First Step - Pt I

- I am so happy that I can sing along to some of the song now. One of them monsters has a yellow coloured tip on it's tail. Didn't notice that before.

- So, Ruby's symbol is a rose. Weiss has the snowflake in her corner. Both Blake and Yang have something akin to flames, but of different colours and shapes. Blake's thing looks more like a flame to be honest. Yang's is almost a heart Hmmm.

- The girl is a morning person. The guy isn't. Both of them are me somehow. These two also show up in the opening and ending together with Jaune and the red-kinda-like-fire-dressed lady.

- Also, the boy here has magenta eyes. And a hair stripe of the same colour. Nice.

- Nora and Ren. The former is crushing, ain't she? And do they have a major height difference? Maybe it was the angle of the shot.

- No social interactions anymore. Ruby just wants to ride into the sunset with her weapon. Mood... Is this the arc where we learn about the importance of teamwork and people alongside her?

- "I don't need people to help me grow up. I drink milk!" Yes. You tell them kid.

- Yang doesn't want to be on Ruby's team. Typical big sister energy. I have that urge too sometimes.

- Jaune finishing a "nice and quirky" girl's sentence? More likely than you think.

- So red-kinda-like-fire-dressed lady is Pyrrha. Strong and well-known. Can't decipher her origins yet. Seems Greek to me, for whatever reason... Is she supposed to be Hestia?! Moi's favourite goddess from the Greek pantheon.

- Weiss wants her in her own corner. And she is scheming already about a good life alongside her. LoLLL!

- Okay, why is this soliloquy from Weiss me as a kid thinking about getting a best friend for life? Nothing gay going on at all... Oh my Gods. She literally says, "Nothing could come between us now!" 😂👏🏻

- Jaune is jinx for Weiss it seems. Am pretty sure Pyrrha is actually fond of him. She is the only one so far who waved at him willingly. Or maybe she was just being polite.

- "Hot stuff." "Snow angel." WoW.

- Weiss really is smart. She realised what would get Jaune to recognise Pyrrha after only two attempts. Kudos!

- I liked the cereal box animation bit. Gave me a good giggle.

- Pyrrha is so nice. Jaune thinks he has more game than he actually does. Should read up on personal space though. Ooooooh! That spear throw from Pyrrha was badass!

- "Ladykiller." Yeah, the ladies want to kill themselves often when he comes around. Jokes! 😂

- Is Ozpin sick or something? Every time I see him well enough, he has a cup in his hand. Granted I have only seen him thrice, but during two of those times he was drinking from a cup and walking around merrily. The initiation speech was the only time I saw him actively using what looks to be a cane. He didn't seem very energetic then, as noted by Yang and Ruby. Too early to actually lock in on this though.

- Emerald forest. Cute.

- Ruby's worst nightmare is coming true. Jaune's attempt at a question was the tree in the jungle no one saw fall. And they will be graded on their journey through the woods and could die in the process... I want to be in this world.

- Jaune. My friend. It's kind-of a drop off. Look around. You missed Yang putting on her aviators moments before being catapulted. So cool.

- The Blake ending. Tune was nice. Very, expect something to come soon.

Season 01 Episode 05: The First Step - Pt II

- Rocking along to the opening song.

- Ruby smashed across a winged creature on her way down. Hope that birdie wasn't uncle Qrow. 😆

- The scythe landing technique was nice. Weiss has snowflake steps. Ren uses his gun very well. Yang is handblasting her gauntlets to fly through the sky. Pyrrha warrior princess-ed a path in. AND assisted Jaune. Gods, she is good... Yang seemed to be the only one having fun though. The aviators make a lot more sense now.

- How did Blake and Nora get in? Me wants to know!

- The mental juggling Ruby is doing as she runs... Funny and many people's everyday reality. Probably different circumstances though. I hope.

- The figures in her head are so unserious. Great for comedic value at least! Blake's "so mysterious, so calm" face is giving major 'Hey mamas' vibes.

- So Ruby's choices so far are her own sister. The incompetent nice guy. The anti-social bibliophile. And...

- Of course it's the mean girl Ruby ends up paired with... "The world needs the selfless and the selfish to keep spinning." 😭

- Oh my Gods. Is this Weiss' version of 'stuck between a rock and a hard place?'

- Ruby's celebratory hurrah on getting Weiss as a partner might not last long, but mine probably will. 😁

- Jaune should be asking for team spots on Pyrrha's side. But still, cute!

- When did Ruby become the roadrunner, Weiss would like to know.

- Grimm monster's here. Weiss is alone. Ooooooh. Things mayhaps be getting interesting.

- Yang's ending. Exciting music. Makes me want to do a montage planning a revolution.

Season 01 Episode 06: The Emerald Forest - Pt I

- RWBY opening. My beloved.

- The monster is not Yang's sister. The other monster is also not Ruby. And they both get hit by Yang.

- Complained so bad Yang is teasing them now.

- Ahhhh. Her hair is precious. One strand out, and not only does the perpetrator go down but some trees around them as well. Junior's fate is shrouded in more darkness now.

- Blake did the other monster a favour by saving it from Yang's wrath.

- Her ensuing smirk and Yang's answer... New partner alert! AGHHHHHHHHH! It's happening!!!!

- Weiss being so technical about her stance and stuff could mean she hasn't had much time training with actual monsters.

- Ruby and Weiss' teamwork so good, they only needed one hit to bring down an entire group of monsters AND some chunk of the jungle... without even meaning to do that. 😂

- Sending my prayers to the collateral damage the forest is withstanding. And the noise pollution it needs to tolerate, courtesy of Ruby and Weiss.

- Slicing down the tree in anger was such an alpha male move. I support a woman in male dominated fields. Go Ruby!

- That feather is huge. Is that from a monster?

- I am loving the reversal of gender roles between Jaune and Pyrrha. The damsel in distress man and the competent protector lady. Considering this came out in 2013, good on the folks behind the show for making this a thing. Chef's kiss!

- Ooooooh! Exposition... "It bears our burdens and shields our hearts." I guess I don't have no soul. My aura would be working overtime otherwise.

- Ren vs a big snek. Aura Person vs Creature of Grimm. Manifestation of soul vs Manifestation of anonymity. Light vs Darkness.

- It's interesting how just as Pyrrha talks about understanding light and darkness, 'cause everyone has some of both, a white snek comes along. Also a Grimm creature, from the looks of it. Hmmm.

- Essentially, bare your soul. Project yourself. Turn your aura into a forcefield... Man, they really are coming for the arses of emotionally unavailable people.

- Hope Ren's okie... WHOA. This guy pulled out some serious ancient art moves with his magenta-pink(?) aura. Blasted a snek's head off. NOICE!!!

- The fact that Jaune didn't immediately assume Pyrrha was going to kiss him is good character development! 😂 Jokes aside though, Pyrrha used her own aura to unlock Jaune's? She is such a good person...

- White aura Jaune. Red aura Pyrrha.

- "You have a lot of it." Am sure Jaune's mum probably wondered why he had so much energy at least a few times. 😆

- A wild sloth appears. Ren doubts her choice of animal noise. The sloth uses the 'boop' maneuver to counteract this claim.

- The Jaune and Pyrrha ending. The music is almost EDM like here.

Season 01 Episode 07: The Emerald Forest - Pt II

- Yes, am ready for a revolution!

- Pairs have been formed and Madam Glynda has thoughts... I have none 'cause she so pretty.

- Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren. Norse myths and I think Chinese background... Nora's inspiration is apparent. Can't figure out Ren's... They do have such cool names though. NOICE!

- Of course Jaune is a good student. And Ozpin is really invested in Ruby. Hmmm.

- Weiss' sky high pride meet Ruby's rising irritation... Ooooof. That spat was unnecessary. Don't be so rude Weiss. You really don't know Ruby.

- Blake and Yang are the first ones to make it?! Dream team!!! Go sapphics, go!!!

- The temple's a chessboard. Huh.

- Jaune and Pyrrha enter a cave (Why does this sound like an opening for a joke?)... Jaune's only contribution has been extinguished 'cause he clumsy. Warmth in places dark... Good sign?

- Yang and Blake decide on taking a pony. Equestrian folks would appreciate it.

- The chesspieces have yellow and black toppers. Huh.

- Jaune confused the yellow-tip of a monster for the relic. Classic. His girlish screams are doing something to Blake. Is this PTSD?

- The cave has a drawing of a scorpion being forced in. Oh Gods. I think there was similar art when Pyrrha and Jaune were entering initially. Either this is actually funny or I am too tired.

- Jaune goes flying out, Ruby comes flying in. Wonder what happened there.

- The Ren and Nora ending. Sounds a little like a spy theme. Huh. I didn't realise they showed symbols in the end credits as well. Ren's is like a leaf. Or is it a flower. And Nora's reminds me of a hammer. But with a needle on both ends of the part with which you hit. Hmmm.

(You spoil me, I spoil your life.

Them's the rules. So don't do it. Farewell!)

[anexperimentallife]

You may not have intended it so--maybe you were just trying to be reassuring--but your comment comes off like one of those people who so condescendingly accused Mayers' professor (in They Thought They Were Free) of being an alarmist in 1930s Germany. I've studied this stuff. And you haven't been paying attention.

If you kept up on current events, you'd know it's not just rhetoric. (Not the majority of it, anyway.) And if you knew me at all, you wouldn't act like I'm being alarmist.

It's possible that SOME of the orange shitgibbon's ramblings are a distraction, but he has already taken meetings with Netanyahu about his Gaza aspirations, and domestically has already cut funding to essential programs and agencies that people claimed he was "all talk" about; people are already suffering because of it. USAID workers are having to find their own ways home from overseas because funding was abruptly cut off, and they no longer have jobs. Medicine is being withheld because there's no one to distribute it. Power is being cut to ventilators. Food is rotting in warehouses instead of being delivered to the needy worldwide.

ICE is already targeting minority communities and detaining anyone darker than mayonnaise without proof of citizenship currently on their person (including indigenous people). He's got ICE literally going door to door in some communities looking for anyone they consider suspicious.

Can he legally do any of this? Of course not. But no one is stopping him, and anyone who tries loses their job. (He's also going after everyone who had anything to do with prosecuting him or his army of Brownshirts for anything ever.)

A FOX News host is running the Pentagon. An antivaxxer snake oil shill is in charge of the National Institute of Health. Elon Musk and a handful of white supremacist hackers, despite none of them being approved or vetted by congress, have been downloading people's private information from various agencies onto external hard drives as part of an illegal agency Trump created by fiat out of thin air, and shutting down agencies by cutting ifc their funding. (Among other things, they're targeting agencies that have investigations open on Musk's businesses.) Agencies that are allowed to remain open are being purged of anyone whose personally loyalty to Trump is in question.

See, his first term was just setting the stage for this. His party has spent the past four years consolidating power (actually they've been working towards this since the mid-1900s--this is just the culmination of all that), and now controls all three branches of government and the military.

Oh, and get this--thanks to a far-right-controlled SCOTUS ruling that a president cannot be prosecuted for any "official" act, the orange shitgibbon has no reason to listen to lower courts telling him he can't do any of it, because since he can't be prosecuted, the WORST they can do is maybe get his cronies to back off. And anyone the courts DO bust, Trump will pardon, just like he pardoned all 1,500 terrorists who attempted a coup when he lost an election. (If you're familiar with history, you may note the parallels between Hitler's and Trump's playbooks.)

Again, the courts--which move slowly--can order him as much as they want, but he has no reason to comply, because the highest court in the land has preemptively declared him untouchable. Even on the crimes it was ruled he COULD be prosecuted for, and the 34 felonies he was convicted of, the judge declined to hand down any sentence. (Too many judges owe their appointments to Trump, for one thing--The GOP blocked attempts at filling judicial positions during the Obama administration, letting the vacancies pile up until Trump was in charge.)

I'm skimming the surface with a broad overview here, and maybe of it can be reversed eventually. But not soon enough. And even if it happened tomorrow, it will be of little comfort to those suffering now. It will take literally decades to undo the damage the orange shitgibbon has already done.

See below for just a FEW examples of what concern me.

It's not "just rhetoric."

Considering Trump's plans for Gaza (complete ethnic cleansing/genocide so as much of it as possible can be developed into a bunch of luxury resorts) and what he and his dom (Musk) are already doing to harm and kill poor folks all over the world, I wonder if the "Never Kamala" people still think it was more important to "punish" the Dems (who are relaxing in their mansions, because this is just a game to them) than to save the world from the orange shitgibbon.

I mean, given what they KNEW would happen under the orange shitgibbon, we can clearly see that Palestinian lives certainly never mattered to them. Nor do the lives of all the poor folks all over the world getting funding yanked from the programs that keep them alive. Nor do the lives of ethnic minorities in the US being rounded up by ICE. Nor do the lives of trans people or other queer folks.

They got their wish, I guess.

[flying-cat]

I just saw someone say "I wasn't educated on politics so I didn't vote" then why didn't you educate yourself??? We all have little computers in our fucking hands guys this is kind of something to USE THEM FOR.

[powdermelonkeg]

Me, playing BG3: Gortash staged a mind-controlled coup! Perfect political intrigue.

Me, looking up the politics of Baldur's Gate: Oh this city's government is falling apart at the SEAMS.

[dragonji]

now I Know this is being overdramatic and petty which is why im posting about it instead of actually saying anything but I wish to fucking god my roommate would stop having ppl over without warning me beforehand.

[vaguely-concerned]

I've been trying to figure out a dynamic between neve and rye that I find more compelling, because right now there's not much of anything there for me to sink my little teeth into. but I think I've landed on something delicious with the idea that especially after minrathous gets fucked, rye looks at neve and sees myrna -- someone he feels he keeps letting down horribly no matter how hard he tries not to and can't quite achieve the approval of/connection with that he wishes so it's better to just pull away completely and disengage rather than stay in that unshifting shame. neve is (very understandably) measured and distant with him after what happened, and he's flashing back to his student days of myrna gazing at the perpetually hungover heartbroken heap of a person of him on the other side of her desk every time he missed the deadline of a paper or project like '...can we at least both agree that this is. a bit disappointing. especially considering your potential.' (and him all smudged black eyeshadow and numb ruefulness being like 'sure that's a very kind way to put it myrna thank you'.)

aside from the 'if I let him get too deeply into this he'll go the way of brom and it'll be all my fault (again)' element, neve thinks rye is dismissing her and her city/being a bit callous in the same way he was after varric's death (listen. how fucking wild must rook's reaction to losing a beloved mentor seem to the rest of the crew who aren't seeing the blood magic paper doll ghost varric the whole time, especially those who got to see them interact. you WOULD think 'there's something wrong with this guy. putting the job first is one thing just not seeming to react at all is another this is fucking freaky', wouldn't you, especially after seeing the warmth in that dynamic in action beforehand.) perfect storm of two people who grit their teeth and turn inwards in pain deciding that not talking about it is their best bet (NEWSFLASH: IT ISN'T) lmao

(rye spent his last year of watcher training on a mostly joyless bender and then got it together enough to finish the eternal orb project last moment in a fevered near-sleepless week instead of the half a year that was intended. emmrich is both astounded and distressed to hear this. "a week? but -- but that is an astounding accomplishment rook!! and also why in the maker's good light would you ever do that to yourself?" ("well you see there was no one to stop me from doing it like that but me. and under those conditions these things tend to happen".) rye was working through/looking up stuff around transitioning and doing every kind of OTHER high level watcher research through that whole time, but ultimately he's an excellent watcher and a terrible student, at least under traditional methods. adhd from here to the fucking moon. touched by something akin to divine inspiration in moments of high tension that pulls all the threads into one coherent unbreakable cord, a bit of a frayed mess in most other settings. in our world he'd be dropping out of a masters program at the very last hurdle in this moment maker bless and protect him)

[minty-mumbles]

1535 days to go

[im2tired4usernames]

Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die