#there sure are people in the main tag being like this book was not to my taste and is therefore Bad

[radish-club]

So now that I have finished, I am going to break down my prior knowledge point by point and see where I was right or wrong about my prior knowledge of Worm because being thorough is fun.

Side note: you may be thinking since I've been tagging my liveread posts as "wren wreads worm" that my name is Wren. Nope. I just liked the triple W plus the misspelling. Wren is the name of the robot girl in my profile pic. It was also the pseudonym I used back when I was active(ish) on the Parahumans discord (for the Pact and Pale chats).

Wren Wreads Worm: Where I Was Wright and Wrong about Worm

Big picture: there's alien entities called incubators shards who implant themselves in people and give them powers.

So so the alien entities aren't called Shards like I thought, they are called Entities and the Shards are just their fragments.

I was under the impression that there was, like, a bunch of these aliens that were doing their experiments on earth and each one was implanting themselves into humans. But nope, only really 3 of them important to this story, only 2 came to earth, and only 1 survived initial contact with the planet.

I am not sure how accurate the comparison to the Incubators from PMMM ended up being, but similar enough I guess.

Powers are triggered by traumatic events and are usually themed to said events. There is also an organization called Cauldron who tries to give powers in a controlled manner. Powered beings are called parahumans.

All correct here.

The main character is Taylor. She has the power to control bugs. She was triggered by being bullied in high school. She was shoved into a locker full of used tampons and left there. I don't recall if that was the specific trigger event or just one instance of bullying.

It was the specific trigger.

She wants to be a hero and thinks of herself as a good, well intentioned person but is so so stupid. She goes out to fight crime, and meets up with teenage villains (called the Undersiders??). Against advice of established hero(es) she goes "undercover" with teen villains. In doing so she gets deeper and deeper in. Does like bank robberies or some shit that go badly. People die. And so on.

All true. Though I didn't realize eventually she just fully embraces the villain thing and get outed as "Undercover" during the course of that. I figured kept up her plan to rat them out up until she defected and then started snitching.

At some point she officially joins heroes and there is a time skip but I don't know if these two things happen together.

Kind of?? Not really but close enough. The time skip wasn't all in one piece like I thought either. Just a few months at a time per chapter until it gets the last year, year and a half out the way in one go.

Halfwayish through the book there is a big fight with a creature called Leviathan in which several characters dies (and apparently the author rolled dice to see who would die, so it was possible even Taylor could have died in that fight).

So in my head, the Leviathan fight played a similar roll as what the Behemoth fight ends up playing. A big transitional fight between Taylor as Skitter and Taylor as Weaver.

The way I was figuring it, I think, was that all the Skitter crime boss stuff happened and gradually escalated in an intact Brockton Bay, but then the Leviathan wrecks shit and the experience lead Taylor to defected or something, I am not sure.

But no, it was towards the beginning, if anything. It is the arc that is the transition from Act 1 to Act 2 if you were to break Worm into 3 acts.

At some point in the story Taylor kills several people. These include an established hero (Alexandria?) by suffocating her with bugs and also a baby but for the baby she uses a gun.

All true. I was not aware of her first proper kill in Coil, I'll note.

It was Alexandria that she kills which, as I guess, was a big important event that happened that gets referenced throughout the rest of the book.

The baby killing, however, was NOT as big of a deal as I thought it was going to be. By a good margin too. Like I was imagining there was going to be this build-up over the course of several Arcs about some baby who was going to set off a chain reaction or be dangerous in itself in an immediate sense.

There was going to be debates amongst characters about what do do about it until Taylor finally gets impatient, tracks down said baby, and assassinates it. And then it would be this big awful thing she had done that would be held against her and make her reviled by many.

But no. There is build up in the sense that it is implied that the baby, Aster, COULD be dangerous. And it is implied that she might end up in one of Gray Boy's time wells.

But the actually shooting just kind of happens, with implied motivations, as opposed to explicit ones. And the chapters that follow are for Golem, Aster's brother, who is broken up about it at first. But after that, I am not sure if she is ever mentioned again.

I guess because goes straight into the Jack fight and then Scion attacking immediately after. And not that many people saw it happen. And Taylor is at the point where she is kind of past feeling emotion about such things.

But going on memes and jokes about Taylor's baby killing, I just thought it was going to be a much bigger deal than it was.

There is a parahuman with gold skin who was one of the OG parahumans back in the 80s.

I was both right and wrong here. DWMP is named Scion and he was a cape from the 80s, but he was not a parahuman.

I discussed this in another post, so I won't go as in depth here. Briefly back when I didn't realize there was just one single entity (for all intense and purposes) and shards of said entity but I thought the entities and shards were one in the same and were many in number, I thought Scion was just a regular human who got an Important Shard and also most of his memories wiped.

I don't remember his name but I do remember he is very Dead Wife Man Pain, so let's call him DWMP.

The DWMP aspects came from half remember stories about Worm my wife told me. She used that expression to describe Scion and I got memories jumbled and thought there was some car wreck backstory or something.

DWMP has a fateful conversation with a villain named Jack Slash. Slash convinces him to destroy the world. Maybe also other realities too??

He does have that conversation with Jack Slash and he does begin destroying the world because of it. I didn't know the Jack Slash connection would be broadcasted within the story itself, long before via Dinah's precognition. I thought that was neat and felt special and in on the secret (this is why I don't mind spoilers for stuff).

And yeah, he does attempt to destroy multiple earths in multiple realities, but that isn't really part of the conversation.

(or maybe the same conversation is happening on multiple realities with multiple Slashes and DWMPs??)

The same conversation wasn't happening in multiple realities. And there is only 1 Scion for all the different realities. So no idea where that part came from.

There's apocalyptic event and Taylor gets someone (Amy/Panacea, I think) to enhance/alter her power so she can jump between realities. She then begins to gather parahumans from differently realities into a team to come together and take out DWMP with the power of teamwork and a giant laser.

Correct about apocalypse and that it was Amy.

But see, I thought the power enhancement was the reality hoping itself. I didn't realize that she got the power to literally control people.

So here I was thinking the climax was going to be her jumping through realities talking to and convincing alternate earth capes to join her cause and then they were all gonna rally together and fight Scion.

What ACTUALLY happened was so so so much better. She becomes a monster and begins controlling people, namely other parahumans. She controls a portal making parahuman to help extend her range and forcible recruit literally 1000s of people to fight and die against Scion.

This represents culmination of her continually increasing unethical actions for the "great good" and the final betrayal of her previously held morals.

Basically the "power of friendship" is funny in retrospect since I meant it somewhat sincerely.

Spot on about the giant laser. There was a giant laser. It is was killed Scion in the end.

They are not able to save the world they are currently on but a portion of Earth's population are evacuated from their current reality to an Earth with no humans where Ward takes place. One of these two earths is called Earth Bet.

Earth Bet is the main earth for our purposes. It wasn't as thoroughly destroyed as I assumed. Like folks are still rebuilding and live there. I am not sure how much of the population is spread amongst the various worlds.

From what I understand the afformentioned humanless world (Gimel) is where Ward takes place mostly or completely but I can only imagine there is some crossing over.

No idea what happens in-between. If folks continue to live on Bet, and so on.

Taylor's fate is left ambiguous. She maybe dies, she maybe fucks off to another reality. Maybe she become meguca idk.

And this part annoys me. It's is not ambiguous in the way I thought.

Like at first its pretty unambiguous. Contessa shoots and kills Taylor, ending her narration. It's great, I like that.

But then you have that epilogue about her fucking off to the other reality. It's somewhat implied to be fake given Tattletale's dialogue and the fact that her (presumably) dead dad is there. But the phrase "Gold Morning" is used. And the whole thing doesn't feel "dreamlike."

I get that the author SAYS it's supposed to be just a dream that happens while she's dying (I think that's true, correct me if I am wrong). And while I like to think that is the case myself, what he wrote isn't very good at getting that across.

And it's not even that good of a chapter (Tattletale parts are fine) to justify it being there, even as a dream. I feel if the last we see of Taylor is her getting shot, that would have been great. The final epilogue stuff felt forced and I didn't like it.

Other Notes:

-Taylor goes by 3 names: Skitter, Weaver, and Khepri

Partially true. She briefly goes by the temporary name of Bug prior to Gallant naming her Skitter after the bank robbery. Also I did not realize how little the Khepri name gets used in book.

-There a suite of powers called the Alexandrian Package bc they are the ones the parahuman Alexandria has. I think they are flight, semi-invulnerability, and strength (or maybe one of those is energy blasts)

True but this term only gets mentioned once maybe twice in the Worm. Maybe it comes up more in Ward or Weaverdice or something.

-there is a character named Bitch whose power is turning dogs into monster dogs. Media calls her Hellhound to be less controversial and she hates that

True

-There are sisters named Victoria (Glory Girl) and Amy (Panacea) the former of who is the protagonist of Ward. Amy turns Victoria into a Cronenberg at some point. Their relationship and respective characterizations across both books is a point of great controversy among fans. To put it lightly.

True. Though I did think Victoria would be put back together again within the text of Worm.

There was a scene and her being presented to Amy (I am guessing) to be fixed while Taylor is being lead through her banishment portal, which was kind of out of place to be honest. Like, I know Taylor saw Cronenberg Victoria via the clairvoyant when searching for heroes but did she collect her? If so, why? And if not did someone choose that moment, immediately after the fighting finished to take care of this. It was an awkward moment.

-There is a character named Lab Rat who died(?) but he, in the form of one of his clones, comes back in Ward as a guy named Chris.

As far as Worm goes, the part about Lab Rat dying is true. And if I remember correctly, the thing he threw over the side of the oil rig was his clone. And I haven't read Ward but I am pretty sure said clone became the character Chris.

-Browbeat's fate was ambiguous, so him secretly being this or that character in Ward became a meme. Because the author hates fun memes, he went back and changed Worm so BB unambiguously died.

Not much more to say here. The death was changed to be unambiguous.

Numbers Man is hung

Described as wearing just a shirt and glasses. Surely, what the author meant was that he was wearing no pants because of his monster dong.

I know Brian and Alec die but not exactly how or when.

Both true, though the story really take it's time before confirming Brian's death. Not a criticism, just wasn't expected.

I think Danny dies too but I'm not sure.

It's never confirmed but heavily implied.

I'm pretty sure Lisa and Rachel make it to Ward but I'm not sure about Aisha. I don't think she dies though.

They all make it.

I know there is going to be a jailbreak at the Birdcage at some point but I don't know the particulars.

Kind of true?? But not in the way I thought. I thought the inmates mount a jailbreak and that is how Marquis, Lung, Amy, etc get out. But no, pretty much all the named inmates are let out to help fight Scion. Taylor breaks the remaining inmates out during her run as Khepri, if you want to call that a jailbreak.

Taylor loses an arm at some point

Twice actually. Once at the oil rig (along with her lower half) but gets it regrown. Then again when it is crushed by Sveta and then removed by Lung (at her request). That gets healed over but never replaced.

It may be a few weeks before I start, but I'm probably gonna finally read Worm here soon. May even do a liveread if I feel like it.

I already know several of the major plot points BUT I I'm probably wrong in many places (as I was with Pact).

So before I start, I wanted to write a synopsis of what I think I know about Worm. This way I can refer back to this post and see how much I got wrong, what major things I was missing, etc.

What Worm is About (by someone who hasn't read Worm)

Big picture: there's alien entities called incubators shards who implant themselves in people and give them powers. Powers are triggered by traumatic events and are usually themed to said events. There is also an organization called Cauldron who tries to give powers in a controlled manner. Powered beings are called parahumans.

The main character is Taylor. She has the power to control bugs. She was triggerd by being bullied in high school. She was shoved into a locker full of used tampons and left there. I don't recall if that was the specific trigger event or just one instance of bullying.

She wants to be a hero and thinks of herself as a good, well intentioned person but is so so stupid. She goes out to fight crime, and meets up with teenage villains (called the Undersiders??). Against advice of established hero(es) she goes "undercover" with teen villains.

In doing so she gets deeper and deeper in. Does like bank robberies or some shit that go badly. People die. And so on.

At some point she officially joins heroes and there is a time skip but I don't know if these two things happen together.

Halfwayish through the book there is a big fight with a creature called Levithan in which several characters dies (and apparently the author rolled dice to see who would die, so it was possible even Taylor could have died in that fight).

At some point in the story Taylor kills several people. These include an established hero (Alexandria?) by suffocating her with bugs and also a baby but for the baby she uses a gun.

There is a parahuman with gold skin who was one of the OG parahumans back in the 80s. I don't remember his name but I do remember he is very Dead Wife Man Pain, so let's call him DWMP. DWMP has a fateful conversation with a villain named Jack Slash. Slash convinces him to destroy the world. Maybe alos other realities too?? (or maybe the same conversation is happening on multiple realities with multiple Slashes and DWMPs??)

There's apocalyptic event and Taylor gets someone (Amy/Panacea, I think) to enhance/alter her power so she can jump between realities. She then begins to gather parahumans from differently realities into a team to come together and take out DWMP with the power of teamwork and a giant laser.

They are not able to save the world they are currently on but a portion of Earth's population are evacuated from their current reality to an Earth with no humans where Ward takes place. One of these two earths is called Earth Bet.

Taylor's fate is left ambiguous. She maybe dies, she maybe fucks off to another reality. Maybe she become meguca idk.

Other Notes:

Taylor goes by 3 names: Skitter, Weaver, and Khepri

There a suite of powers called the Alexandrian Package bc they are the ones the parahuman Alexandria has. I think they are flight, semi-invulnerability, and strength (or maybe one of those is energy blasts)

there is a character named Bitch whose power is turning dogs into monster dogs. Media calls her Hellhound to be less controversial and she hates that.

There are sisters named Victoria (Glory Girl) and Amy (Panacea) the former of who is the protagonist of Ward. Amy turns Victoria into a Cronenberg at some point. Their relationship and respective characterizations across both books is a point of great controversy among fans. To put it lightly.

There is a character named Lab Rat who died(?) but he, in the form of one of his clones, comes back in Ward as a guy named Chris.

Browbeat's fate was ambiguous, so him secretly being this or that character in Ward became a meme. Because the author hates fun memes, he went back and changed Worm so BB unambiguously died.

Numbers Man is hung

[manitole]

Emmrich x Rook = Ideas for Fanfic

 (This is going to be a REALLY long post)

Context: I’m an awkward millennial that doesn’t know Tumblr very well. I apologize in advance if this post is weird and not perfect, I’m still learning. My activities on this platform are mostly resharing awesome post on my page. Since the last few weeks, I must admit that the communities here around my tags are incredible, positive, academic and just kind of healing my heart. For this reason, I feel comfortable trying to be a little more invested. Introduction to the main theme: I’m really happy to see that I’m far from being the only one to be obsessed and hyperfocused on Emmrich Volkarin, especially his romance with Rook. His personality is different from my typical fictional crushes: this fact had opened new possibilities about scenarios in my imagination. The main theme: I love to write, but I have a thesis to finish. Plus, I’ve already started two fanfictions and I’m not close to be done with those two stories. Since I’m lacking time, experience in fanfiction, knowledge in the DA universe and expertise in the English language (I’m a native French speaker), I must conclude that writing a fanfic Emmrich X Rook would not be the best idea right now. I would LOVE to share some of my ideas if it can inspire some people out there:

A – Too much rigidity versus chaotic (Mortal): I would LOVE to see a fanfic which addresses the mountain struggles of Rook and Emmrich living together after the story of the game. This man has been alone for a long time. We don’t know if he already lived with someone else during a long period of time. Emmrich likes to have his books ‘’pristine’’. I’m also guessing he has a strict routine regarding mealtime. I see Rook being kind of chaotic, as letting their underwear lying around where they needed to remove them (around a bed, coffin, or on the dinning table after some sexy time… why not). I could also see Rook inviting old friends for a late dinner, at the last minute, while Emmrich is already in his night gown, ready to sleep. Anyway, I would LOVE to see character’s development around those struggles: Emmrich learning to be a little more flexible while Rook is learning to be a little less disorganized.

B – Feeling bored after saving the world (Mortal): Could be related with point A or not. I know that everyone has different opinions, but so far, I preferred Rook to also be a Mourn Watcher. It seems natural to think that after the end of the game, Emmrich, Rook and Manfred are going back to Neverra. I could see Emmrich going back to teaching. I could see both possibilities where he is satisfied with this (with Rook and Manfred in his life) VERSUS feeling bored after travelling so often for saving the world. I’m not sure what Rook would want to do with their life after the war. Could they even be able to stay at one place? I could see them needed to travel and leave Neverra for sometimes for fighting or geopolitical stuff. I could also see Rook being done with that kind of life and wanting a normal happy and almost boring routine. Let’s talk about marriage. We all know that Emmrich always thought he would get married someday. Would he be ready to marry Rook? If yes, does it mean that he has outcome the age gap problem (?). I don’t know about Rook since the character vary from person to person. They could want to wait for marriage. I see this possibility more in the Mortal route since I have NO idea how Lichdom works and if a Lich can marry someone…

Now. I must explain before going on with my next idea. I’m not a fan of any pronatalist outcome. I don’t think a couple should have children to be happy or have some news goals. I also love stories and fanfic that show childfree happy people. Having children is not and should not be seen as a normal progression of life. It’s a choice and it should be a free and informed joint decision. Childfree couples are NOT less interesting than parents. But I also can see the difference between real life and fiction, especially in a fantastic universe like DA. I think some fanfic that adds children into the story can be a good thing, especially if those are kind of REALISTIC (happy rainbow sunshine without any struggles at all) and talk about more than only the positive of parenthood. Now, we could argue about Manfred. For me, as a couple, Emmrich and Rook are already parental figures to Manfred. While it’s not a typical experience, there is still something there. Manfred doesn’t need to eat (nor to sleep?) but he can still burn some books by accident, requiring some ‘’parenting’’ from Emmrich or Rook.

C – Parenting: I could see the couple adopting a kid while the opportunity is there. I also think that Manfred would be an awesome big brother. Now, let’s talk about a Rook that could be pregnant (trigger for some people, so please go to point D if you don’t want to read about this idea or about parenting and or reproduction).

1 – Pregnancy (Mortal): I’ve been thinking A LOT about the last scene between Rook and Emmrich when they have sex in a coffin. I’m an artist geek but also a nerd scientific with a nursing degree. Both don’t always match well together. I don’t know a lot about contraception in fantastic universe, especially DA. I can’t stop myself thinking: did Emmrich and or Rook THOUGHT about this? One part of me think that Emmrich would not be the type of person to forget about any risk regarding that subject. It would seem easy for him to cast a charm for preventing a pregnancy? I don’t know. But on the other hand, the end of the world is happening, and him or Rook could not survive to the last battle. The party banter between Harding and Emmrich show that the necromancer can forget some things important when he is with Rook or just by being in a new relationship. So perhaps Emmrich didn't think about it. I could see Rook having sex without having that in mind at all, kind of like a YOLO attitude. They love Emmrich and they are like '' let’s have awesome lovemaking before perhaps dying or whatever''.

Nooooow. Let’s talk about that accidental pregnancy if we could agree that because of those circumstances, no one thought about contraception, because you know… ‘’ End of the world ‘’. Plus, while an accidental pregnancy could be the end of the world for some person, it could not be as horrible for others, like Emmrich and or Rook. So, the team beat Elgar’nan, Solas linked himself to the fade and all. The world is safe for now. It’s the time of celebration. Even after some rest, Rook doesn’t feel really good. They are kind of tired all the time but again, it’s normal since they have been on high adrenaline during the last few months (?). It could explain things. Them and Emmrich could think it is related to the fade or perhaps a curse. Eventually, I’m pretty sure Emmrich would realize the situation before Rook. He was able to spot that stiff wrist. He could see subtle difference regarding Rook. I could totally see his shocked face while understanding the situation. As for Rook, I could see them not thinking about that possibility because perhaps they weren’t having regular periods in the first place because of the hard activities while trying to save the world. Now, let’s ad point A and perhaps point B to this scenario. The couple is trying to live together in a new routine while also learning they are expecting a baby. I waaaaaant to read about that 52-53 years old necromancer realizing his partner is pregnant with his child. Everything is going too fast, and Harding could make snaky remarks on this. I want to read how Emmrich feel about this: He always wanted a family, and he already has Manfred and Rook, but having a child could be something positive to him for different reasons (legacy and pronatalist blabla). But because of his age, it could also be an experience kind of sad, realizing that he could not see his kid grow as much as he would love to. The reaction of Rook about all of this could be really different since again, Rook vary for each player. I would love to see some struggles (perhaps with a big fight?) with a pregnant Rook who still wants to fight and live their ''normal'' life and an overprotective Emmrich (with only good intentions) kind of overwhelming. I could also see Emmrich taking his retirement from teaching sooner than expected, since he wants to spend as much time as possible with his children. I also think he could be the main parent, as the most ‘’maternal’’, kind of overprotective, again.

I see Emmrich having a girl. I’m not sure why, but it flows better in my imagination. It would make a lot of sense if this girl had the name of a flower or a plant, and her middle name could be Emmrich's mother. With Rook and Emmrich as parents, this little girl would become a badass woman with high self-esteem, taking bullshit from no one. She would LOVE her big brother, and Manfred would also LOVE her. I like to think he will learn faster while being a brother figure. I really see the young girl saying to everyone she has a big brother called Manfred without ever explaining that he is actually a spirit in the body of a skeleton. I could see everyone kind of shocked while meeting Manfred for the first time without that context.

Plus: Vorgoth must be one of the godparents, please. And the family should eventually adopt a pig.

Bonus: a time jump where Emmrich is dying, more than satisfied with his life, and all of his family is around him. I don't mind crying.

2 – Lich route (kind of a silly idea): This idea is kind of a joke. I don’t know how Lichdom works, but I’m pretty sure that once you are a Lich, you are sterile? Now… An accidental pregnancy could happen if Emmrich and Rook had sex BEFORE Emmrich became a Lich. I think it would be really hard on him to outlive not only Rook but also his children and perhaps his grandchildren. I could only see this as possible and not heartbreaking if Rook and Emmrich have a kid who is also a mage and would eventually also become a Lich. I could totally see an awkward family tradition that goes on generation after generation where each child gifted with magic MUST become a Lich before they are 60 years old or something. Imagine: you are like 25-year-old mage and Lichdom don’t appeal to you at all, nor does necromancy. Your sibling doesn't have magic so all the expectations are ON you (and that sibling is, of course, jealous of you).  One of your parents is getting close to becoming a Lich, and the ceremony is approaching. You have a grandparent and a lot of great-grandparents who are also Liches, and the festivity dinners are always awkward. Your family is like famously known in Nevarra but from the inside, you just feel weird. Eventually, you take your courage to break this tradition, coming out to your parents, and they tell you: “You are too young to decide this yet. Your great-grandmother thought the same thing at your age. You will change your mind.” To prove your point, you decide to join the Grey Wardens (or any action making it impossible for you to become a Lich), and half of your family is MAD and saying, “Omg, your great-great-great-great-grandfather is SO disappointed in you.” Done. I just find this possibility really funny.

D – Age gap: I would also like lots of scenes where Rook reacts the opposite of expected regarding the age gap between Emmrich and them (this post as an example). I could see Emmrich being a little annoyed sometimes when people talk to him about this subject, but I would love a Rook who doesn’t seem to understand the problem and just reacts possessively, as if the people talking about it are just jealous. That would also reassure Emmrich (I think).

E – Cute little scenes: I want to read about Emmrich and Rook snuggling on the couch in front of a fire, while Emmrich reads aloud a book about some academic stuff. I also would love a scene where Emmrich gives a powerful massage to Rook (since he knows anatomy so well…).

This is it. Thank you very much for reading. Now that all of this is out of my system, I can go back in peace to my boring thesis. If you already know some fanfics with one of those subjects, please tell me. I’m trying to check on AO3 often, but I don’t always have the time.

[sevenines]

i saw this tweet and found it interesting for two reasons. one is that some people base how good cartoon network would be to toh by how it treated su, and despite the fact that su’s treatment by the network was considered poor at the time, now its thought to be exceptionally good in comparison to modern shows.

two is how exactly su got impacted by a limited budget. a common criticism is how characters like connie, peridot, and lapis are left out of missions. but balancing a lot of characters is not only hard but also costly (extra animation, extra voices—it’s been revealed that the show is limited to a set number of characters per episode otherwise they’re over budget). animation mistakes are not uncommon since retakes cost extra. the entire reason the original show got cut short was due to loss of funding!

[gigantomachylesbian]

Guys. I did not know before now that writing could be painfully millennial in a full prose book but the pho*nix ke*per has proven me wrong and I have to complain about it in the tags

[totallyfluxd]

read the starless sea in like three days and I am. hmm. not capable of expressing how beautiful it is and how deeply it gripped me and hhhhhh I need a sequel about kat actually!!

[billiewena]

FOUR YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020, as summed up by Supernatural

past recaps: year one / year two / year three / year four

full context and sources below:

various explanations + resources/sources/extra reading on this year's recap:

balls deep: misha collins says the quiet part out loud at Cross Roads 8 Supernatural Convention, saying "if the CW wasn't so homophobic dean and cas would've been balls deep for sure" at a con (x) (x) (x)

garthbenny canon: supernatural actors DJ Qualls (who played hunter-turned-werewolf Garth Fitzgerald) and Ty Olsson (who played the vampire Benny Lafitte) reveal they're married, delighting crack shippers like myself everywhere (x)

spn spooky picture book: official supernatural children's picture book is released, retconning things like john winchester as a happy father figure and castiel being their cowardly childhood friend who sorta hangs around (x) (x)

boop button: tumblr introduces a feature people enjoy for once for april fool's day and halloween and allows users to boop each other, spn bloggers re-awake like sleeper agents to use it in full force (x) (x)

bedlund speaks on destiel: former spn writer ben edlund goes on a tweet fest replying to fans, talking about destiel multiple times including this profound tweet (x)

clear text, not subtext: jensen speaks out again on the confession at Purcon 8, this time taking a more open stance on how the relationship was textual, his take on dean's feelings about cas's feelings, and how the scene with cas deserved a resolution (x)

bury your gays: famed author chuck tingle (known for his plethora of highly specific and delightfully inclusive, if strange, indie erotica novels) publishes his second mainstream horror novel, inspired by TV network studios' infamous history of censoring LGBT relationships and openly killing off queer characters. In a non-subtle nod to supernatural fans, the main character is named misha. (sidenote: did end up reading this and this book is actually really good commentary on the industry in general and really good, 10/10 recommend) (x) also someone got the book signed by misha, to further break the fourth wall (x)

tracker: jensen ackles begins starring in a CBS show where he is basically csoplaying dean winchester, with the show featuring many non-subtle spn references (i.e. him pretending to almost get in an impala before going to his truck, characters wearing spn necklaces, etc.) (x) (x) (x) (special shout-out to clarice @youre-only-gay-once for expertly tracking the tracker show and these easter eggs, highly recommend their tag for their show)

cw's walker cancelled: fans rejoiced upon hearing the cancellation news for jared's post-supernatural show, walker, a remake of "walker texas ranger." in addition to generally being a copaganda show for the notoriously racist texas rangers, jared's inspiration for the show's direction caused much concern. the actor himself said the show was inspired by the US border crisis, not by the immigrant families affected by the separation and internment, but instead wanting exploring the POV of the law enforcement agents working at the border and the moral dilemmas they had to face (x)

pro-destiel Wonder Woman: Lynda Carter (aka the iconic and beloved original actress for Wonder Woman, not the z*onist one) says she could "go for some Destiel" when promoting #GeeksandNerdsforHarrisWalz and Misha's involvement (x) the rest of the spn cast and original Showrunner Kripke were also a big part of this event

chili's backfire: the chain restaurant chili's drags destiel while interacting with 9-1-1 bucktommy shippers on twitter, immediately gets backfire. notably, their stock takes a dip the next day. coincidence? maybe so, maybe not (x) (x)

samgirl voting fraud: "who is the gayest spn character" tumblr poll surprisingly gets heated, with a blogger straight-up admitting they used a bot on the "castiel vs. sam" poll to rig the poll in sam's favor, which they apparently also did for w*ncest in another poll in the past, and posting a guide on how anyone could do the same. luckily democracy wins in this one instance and castiel prevails anyways, leading to an also contested "castiel vs. charlie bradbury" round (x) (x)

pink pony jarpad: jared is spotted at lesbian pop star chappell roan's set at a festival, un-likely place for him to be (x) also may have been one of the "boring" people called out by chappell? (x)

pro-kamala castiel: in a last-ditch effort to get out the vote, misha uses the power of castiel photo ops to campaign for harris-walz and even shouts-out destiel. I feel depressed writing this sentence, if you've made it this long in your read and you're in the states I hope you're doing alright! maybe by the time I wake up things will be a little different though. (x)

[carlsangel]

ARE YOU SURE?

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: smut, awkwardish sex so watch out, p in v!

masterlist pinned on my profile! (i can’t link anythinggg)

read ghost in the woods. (also pinned on masterlist)

You always felt like crushes made your life more interesting. Even after the apocalypse started. Although that wasn’t able to be your main priority throughout the years, the world became more normal. The walkers, the quietness, the fighting. It all made sense and you adapted. Like humans are supposed to. However, with everything going back to normal, you were able to focus on the things you wanted rather than needed.

That being said, you were able to focus on someone you had quite a large crush on.

Carl.

You looked at him and wondered how no one else has seen him like you do. Just look at him. He has probably the most perfect hair you’ve ever seen. The sweetest looking lips and freckles that complimented his face so well. You were practically enthralled with this man and he had no clue. Or so you thought. Him being so clueless to how obsessed you were with him frustrated you to no end. You talked to him occasionally, whenever it seemed best.

During certain events you’d talk to him or you’d smile at him when you crossed paths. Sometimes you had the same watch shift and you had hours of just talking with each other. For some reason that never translated to outside work. He was always busy with Judith.

You just wanted to talk to him more. Anything.

That’s why, when Rick came up to you both during a watch shift and asked you to go on a run for him, you were ecstatic. Nervous like hell, but excited nonetheless. “I was wonderin’ if the two of you would be willin to go out tomorrow for some supplies. Nothing major just some batteries and what not.” Rick explains. You look over to Carl and he looks back to give a small smile before responding to his dad. “Yeah that shouldn’t be a problem.” He says. “Well it’ll have to be a bit later than a usual run…we won’t have enough people here to take your watch shifts till about noon.”

So it was a late run. Sounds like you’d have to be very focused.

And you were. At first at least. It was very awkward, it made you realize you never talked to him outside of working which technically you still were you just were trapped in a confined space alone. You began to overthink. You started to wonder if he’d seen you stare at him or if he saw how much you sought him out when you left your house in Alexandria.

But he didn’t know. All he knew is that he had to keep cool. You didn’t know it, but Carl was just as obsessed with you as you were. Usually when he’s like this he’d act on it. At least he did with Enid before they broke up. He would initiate everything with Enid, but with you…well you made him nervous. You were just really pretty and he was scared to look like some loser in front of you. The crush was so intense he actively avoided you which confused him really.

It explained his silence in the car. You two were told to drive out sort of far, but you decided to stop at an abandoned house first. Getting there, the sun was going down so it had to be quick. “Guess we should make this fast.” Carl states, getting out of the car and shutting the door. You agree. “Yep. Batteries…other shit.” You giggle. He smiles and you both head inside shortly after clearing it. It was pretty messy, paper and books everywhere along with random pillows scattered.

You both take separate paths into the home just to make sure there weren’t any surprises waiting for you behind doors. You have your knife in hand and a flashlight in the other, ready to open a bedroom door. Once you do, you open it to see a peculiar sight.

The bedroom was very nicely decorated to say the least.

There was a large bed with silk red sheets over it along with some nice pillows. there were dead rose petals scattered over it and the floor. The drawers in the room were all open with clothes falling out of them so you can only assume that their plans were scrapped. The bed was simply untouched. You sort of just stand there and stare at it, since that was all you really could do. You take it in and think about what could’ve happened when Carl comes up behind you, completely unaware. “Hey I checked the rest of the—woah..” He sees the bedroom and you snap out of it.

“Hm?” You look at him and he’s completely red. He takes a moment before continuing. “I checked the rest of the house. It’s safe. We should look through and find what we can.” He tells you. “Right. Yeah, of course.” So you scavenge through the house, mostly finding everything you needed in the kitchen and bathrooms. You noticed there was only one room however. Once you gathered everything you thought would be useful, you and Carl decided to leave, although it was unlikely you would until the next morning.

Before leaving you looked through the window to see that it was pitch black outside. You let the curtain fall back closed. “I’m not sure it’s a great idea to leave here.” You tell him. He looks at you and processes, letting his bag fall off his shoulder. “Help me barricade the door.” You both move to push one of the larger chairs in the living room to sit against the door. Once you’re all done, you decided to settle sleeping arrangements.

“I can sleep out here. On the couch.” He says, looking back to the couch which had no cushions on it. You look back at him and giggle. “We can both stay in the room? If that’s fine with you. There’s pillows in there.” You tell him. He hesitates but agrees. In the room you realized there a lack of comfort. You ended up lighting all the small candles and leaving them on the tables or dressers around the room to make it comfier. There were pillows but little blankets. The only ones being the silk sheets that were on the bed. He insists he’s fine so you leave him be and kick your shoes off the lay on the bed.

You both sit there in silence. Nothing. Not even a goodnight, the tension is incredibly thick and you’re both hyper aware of it. God it’s pissing you off. Doesn’t he get it? Doesn’t he see the way you look at him? You piss him off just as much. He just doesn’t have the balls to say it. It’s his fault after all, he avoids you constantly. He wants you. He wants you so fucking bad he just can’t—

“Just lay on the bed.” You blurt. His eyes open instantly. “It’s fine you can just lay on the bed.” You repeat. Carl slowly sits up and looks up at the bed. “Are you sure?” He asks. “Yeah I’m sure. We’re mature enough to do this without it being a thing. Right?” You sit up and look down at him. He just looks at you. Admiring how good you looked with just the warm lighting the candles gave. It almost turned him on. So he grows the balls to get up and kick his shoes off to lay on the bed. You lay back down and you both just sort of lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Carl was terrified. But he wanted you, he really did. He knew if he had the chance to do anything, it’d be right now. He can’t back out, he can’t avoid you. So he made the first move. That being, rolling to his side to look at you. You furrow your eyebrows and turn to see him, and it almost makes you laugh. You chuckle. “What?” You say amused. Your smile makes him happy. You reciprocate his action, turning onto your right side to face him. You sort of stare at each other and he has the slightest smile on his face. It’s very subtle but it’s there.

“What?” You repeat. He looks at you and builds up some courage. “You look pretty.” He says shortly. God you just wanted to scream how you felt. But he beats you to it. “I’ve sort of…I dunno I’ve been avoiding you for some reason. Well not some reason, I know the reason I just have this stupid crush and—” He nervously rambles which you find kind of sweet. But you suddenly get really excited. Was he seriously confessing? Right now? Everything went mute for a moment, you honestly heard nothing of what he was saying. You just felt the urge to kiss him. So you did.

Your hand moves beneath his chin to hold him in place while you press your lips to his. You both felt incredibly relieved, prompting a smile from his lips into the kiss. He almost moans, kissing you is all he’d been wanting. He grips your wrist and he moves his own hand to hold the side of your face, deepening the kiss. He moves over you, turning you to your back while kissing you deeply. Your hands move to his arms, running them up and down the fabric of his flannel. That reminds you.

You still have clothes on!

You pull back from him and he looks down at you, watching as you push his flannel off his shoulders. He realizes and is all for it. “Are we…um..” Carl lets you just start to take his clothes off with no problem. “This is fine.” He says with a smile, watching as you try your hardest to unbuckle his belt. Once you do he finally stops you to begin taking your clothes off, except you stopped him once he got to your bra. “Not yet. Please?” You question. He retracts his hands from your back and nods. “Yeah of course. I want my shirt on too…if that’s okay?” He looks down at you hopeful. You smile at him sweetly and nod.

“That’s okay.” You tell him. Of course you guys still wanted each other, but you still had your fears and insecurities. Not to mention you weren’t the closest just yet, this was on a whim. “But we can still…you know?” Carl questions, wanting to make sure you still wanted to go through with it. You nod and he takes that as a sign to pull his jeans off, meanwhile you take yours off. Once you’re ready, he looks down and can’t quite see. The room was dark, even with the candles. “Um…” He furrows his eyebrows but fuck he’s aching. He gently rubs himself over your folds, eliciting moans from the both of you. “Shit that feels so good. Really wet I—”

“Do you need help?” You cut him off, although you were getting impatient. It felt good but you needed him inside of you. It was a feeling you’d never felt before but you craved it. Terribly. “If you can’t find the right place? The hole, Carl.” How embarrassing for him. But to be fair it was dark in the room and he’d never done this in his life. But he agrees to the help and you lean down and almost guide him. Feeling his tip graze across your folds once again had you moan, but he prodded himself at your hole right away.

He breathed in sharply but slowly started to push himself all the way inside of you, bottoming out deep inside. His eyes fall shut and he drops his forehead to your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You turn to see him but he’s just breathing so heavy. “M-mhm. Just really tight. N’ warm…I don’t know if I’ll last long Im sorry.” He tries to adjust and pushes deeper in. You moan and it’s so much for him. He sits there for a moment, doing his best to catch his breath. Although that takes him a moment. Once he’s ready he pulls back to look at you.

He grins before starting to move his hips, starting in a really irregular manner. He was struggling a little bit but you could tell in the noises he was making. He was trying hard to not finish. He didn’t want to embarrass himself. Soon after, he ended up finding a nice rhythm. It felt amazing for the both of you, the moans slipping from your mouth got him closer each second. Your hands went from gripping the silk sheets beneath you to his side, grabbing at his shirt as you got closer.

He tries to shut himself up by kissing at your neck, occasionally biting. The sound of him in your ear was absolutely perfect. “Feels so good,” He says, over and over between whimpers. “Can’t take it you feel amazing.” It makes you smile that he can find such pleasure with you. He goes back to your neck, sucking marks to the skin.

It got to the point where he barely retracted himself from your heat, instead he kept buried inside. His breath got heavier and heavier, your moans got louder. “Carl I—” You start, unable to finish your sentence. “Mhm right there.” He shoves himself all the way inside, hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. You finish, clenching around him which makes him pull out straight away to finish on your tummy. All over your shirt too.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, but watching Carl do the same made you so happy. It finally happened. After a while of what felt like pining, you finally had him. He smiles, still breathing heavily as he rests his head on your chest. You wrap your arms around him and run your fingers through his hair. You stew on the fact that he’s in your arms. He’s still getting over the fact he was inside you. Also you felt perfect.

He’s really glad he took that chance.

The next day the drive back was quiet yet peaceful. Except you were both thinking the same thing. How would you tell everyone back home? Would this keep happening, were you guys going to be together officially?

I guess you’d find out.

a/n: so actually don’t flame me if this is dog shit IM SORRYYY if it’s terrible or if there’s spelling mistakes i’m just a girl let’s leave me alone on mistypes. anyway guys idk what the hell is going on with matchups, don’t ask me dawg i’ve done three in total out of sixteen who knows when those will be finished

taglist: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @sstar-ggirl

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

You Need Only Ask [professor!Marcus Pike x librarian!reader]

Read on Ao3

Pairing: History of Art professor Marcus Pike x art library reader/you (cishet female)

Tags/Warnings: Kind of pining idiots but only one is pining, everyone is being professional but it's clear that Marcus is a pining idiot, implied coworkers to lovers.

Summary: Professor Marcus Pike is one of those cliché absent-minded professors - or so you think, but maybe there's another reason why this brilliant academic is acting a dumb fool around you?

Words: 3,534

A/N: This was inspired by an ask sent to me by @just-here-for-the-moment for a fic ask game thingy. Here's the original ask and my reply. I didn't write it exactly like that (main difference is my fic is set in modern times), but I hope y'all still like it!

”Good morning.”

Your customer service smile in place, you look over your shoulder.

”Morning, Professor. Just give me a second and I will be right with you.”

He hums, and you turn back to the bookcase where you were just about to finish re-shelving returns. Once done, you join Marcus Pike, Professor of Art History, at the desk. He’s tapping his fingers, almost impercievably, against the surface of the old solid wood desk, and you stifle a sigh. He didn’t have to wait that long.

”What can I do for you?” you ask politely. Professor Pike is never rude, but he is the typical professor type: absent-minded, a little awkward, his research always the number one priority.

“I looked for this book in the online catalog, but as I suspected, you don’t have it. It’s probably sold out, too.” He gives you a piece of paper before both his hands disappear into his pockets.

“Another inter-library loan, then?” you state, looking at the title. It’s in French, and you know immediately that your library doesn’t have it. Professor Pike is not the most computer-skilled person, so you usually double-check every book he asks for in the database, but this one you know you don’t have.

“Might have to go international for this one,” you tell him. “Canada och Europe. That’s coming out of your department’s budget, you know that.”

“I’ll make room,” he shrugs, looking towards the door, like he can’t wait to get back to the comfort of his own office. “And could you please give me more time with the last one you got for me? I need it for a bit longer.”

“I’ll contact the lending library,” you nod. “I’ll let you know.”

“Great. Thank you.”

The “Sure thing” has barely left your mouth before Pike is out the door, the sound of his steps against the stone floor quickly disappearing down the hall. You shake your head before sitting down to look up the book for him.

As you work, you once again wonder how people like Marcus Pike get jobs at all. Someone as introverted as that would never have a real shot at getting a library job, which requires people skills, patience, and the ability to stand in front of people. But when it comes to academia, it seems like all you need is credentials and a good research profile, and you’re hired. Unlike you, who had to fight tooth and nail for this position. You have Master’s degrees in art and library science, educational and language studies, job experience, and it was still almost impossible to get this job. People who have these jobs never seem to retire but just sit there, year after year, until they eventually sprout roots that fasten them to their chairs.

But you’re here now, since five years, and while Pike’s predecessor never showed his face in the library but sometimes sent you cryptical emails requests that took you half a day to decipher, it’s nice to see that the much younger professor actually frequents the university’s special arts library.

Finally locating Pike’s book in a university library in France, you quickly find the instructions for ILL’s, and send a loan request. After that, you apply for more time for Pike’s previous book, and by afternoon, you have confirmation for both books: one will be mailed out later during the day in Europe, the other has been renewed. You let Pike know through an email, before performing closing duties in the library. Your computer pings just as you’re about to turn it off, and you see that it’s a reply from Pike. Clicking it up, you see the very unlikely response:

>>Amazing, what a service. Just bill the department, I’ve got it covered. Thank you so much 😊 <<

Shaking your head in disbelief at the informal tone, you turn off the computer, clock out, and go home.

Professor Pike is back two days later, now asking for a book that’s available. When you tell him so, he clears his throat, gaze flickering away from you.

“Could you maybe show me where it is?”

“Sure.” You’re curt, because this isn’t the first time. It’s an easy enough book to find, and every item in the library is labeled, and the database even has an interactive feature where you can click on the item’s call number to open up a layout of the stacks, showing the correct shelf in red. It has freed you up a lot now that most patrons can easily find their literature themselves, but some people just want you to do everything for them.

“You know, Professor, you could maybe my start of term library tour useful,” you dare to tease him as you walk before him to the right case. “Most freshmen find it very helpful, and they can usually manage their own information retrieval after.”

“I think maybe a little touch-up course would do me good,” he replies, voice a little tight. “But I like personal service.”

You find the book, pull it out, and hand it to him.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you tell him easily. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He swallows visibly.

“No, thank you.”

He uses the self check-out this time, and leaves quickly without saying goodbye. You shake your head, and catch the eye of Mandy, a Master’s student who works on her thesis in the library almost every day.

“Strange fellow, that one, isn’t he?”

She gives you a peculiar look. “I guess so.”

One thing that you appreciate a lot about your job is the building itself. The campus was built in Collegiate Gothic style in the middle of the 19th century, and compared to the nearby city library with its white surfaces, glass walls, and modern design furniture, the much quieter arts library still seems more alive. The library houses more books than one would think when first seeing it, and it has the charming nooks and crannies that are so common for old houses.

You’re standing in one of those nooks one day; an alcove that houses folios, a cart of tall books parked next to the step stool that you’re standing on. You hear someone enter the library, shout out a “Hello!” as you usually do to let patrons know that you’re in the stacks, and receive a low answer. Mindful not to hurt your wrists, you pick up another folio from the cart, and put it back in its place.

The sound of footsteps stops at the desk, and you pick up the next book.

“Be right with you!”

The patron moves again, slowly walking towards the corner where you are, as if looking for you. You turn your head just as you see Professor Pike come around the corner of a bookcase.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” you nod, picking up the next book. “Almost done.”

“I got your email about the book from France. They sent it rather fast.”

“I was surprised, too,” you admit. There’s one book left, and you really should get down from the stool, move it, and get up again, but you’re lazy. You reach, getting up on your toes, just barely getting the book into place when you feel the stool slip from under you. You gasp, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head during the split second you’re in free fall, and then you land softly, not on the floor, but against a corduroy chest, strong arms holding you.

“Shit, that was close!”

You’re tongue-tied, wide-eyed with shock, heart in your throat and going a mile a minute to make up for the missed beats.

“Are you okay?”

You slowly start to realize that you’re in the arms of Marcus Pike, who caught you when you fell from the stool. And he’s still holding you.

“Yeah, I, yeah, fine, I’m good.” You babble, moving uncomfortably to let him know to let you down, which he does with the utmost care. Your legs are wobbly, and Pike keeps a hand on your waist to make sure you won’t fall.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you now giggle, embarrassed but simultaneously exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. “That wasn’t stupid at all, was it? I’ve been thinking about having that stool replaced, but I never got around to it, haha. I guess it takes an accident for me to get my thumb out of my a-, I mean, to get it done.”

Your cheeks are heating up, your hands are shaking as you grab the handles of the cart, kicking the accursed stool to the side.

“That was really scary, though,” Pike tells you in a low voice. “You could’ve really injured yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, thanks for catching me.” You bite your lower lip and force yourself to look at him. “I’m so embarrassed. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Just glad I was here,” he shrugs, slowly following you as you march to the desk. “Although one could argue that had I not been here, you wouldn’t have tried to restack that heavy book without moving your stool. Sorry if I stressed you.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him lightly. “I sometimes cut corners like that. It’s fine, no harm done.”

You park the cart in its spot behind the desk, and turn to the shelf of reserved books.

“Here’s your inter-library loan. Due date four weeks from now, if you need it for longer, you know the drill.”

“I do,” he replies quietly and accepts the book from you. Holding it in one hand, he carefully opens it with the other, and thoughtfully browses through it. You sit down, flustered and still a little shaky, hoping that he’ll leave so that you can nurse your wounded pride, and maybe have a drink of water.

“It’s about these eighteenth-century art frauds in Europe – “

“I know. I read the title,” you cut him off, more curt than you meant to. Pike closes the book and nervously fingers the paper slip in it.

“You read French?”

“I even speak it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “Of course you do.”

You stare at him, frowning as you try to understand what his deal is, and why he’s suddenly smiling like that. It’s never happened before.

And you’ve never noticed what a charming smile he has. It reveals a dimple in his right cheek that makes him look younger than he is – not that he’s old in any way, he must be around your age, somewhere between forty and fifty. The smile makes you even more shaky, and you can’t stop staring at him. He eventually notices, the smile dies down, and he lowers his eyes.

“Well, thanks,” he mumbles, turning around and walking away briskly, leaving you to stare after him, wondering what the hell happened.

Mandy comes in from her lunch break, waves a hello, then stops when she sees you.

“Is everything okay?”

You nod dismissively. “I’m fine, Mandy. I just… almost fell from a stool. But no harm done.”

She expresses her sympathies before going to the study area. You take a deep breath, and disappear into the back room for a glass of water.

There’s tittling in the stacks, but you don’t pay it any mind: it’s part of library life, especially on a campus filled with hormonal young adults. It’s not until your hear Professor Pike’s name mentioned that you stop writing on your keyboard, and strain to hear better.

“He’s the best lecturer here.”

“And he’s so fucking hot, don’t you think?”

“Cara! He’s a million years old!”

“No, he’s not, he’s like the youngest of the faculty, except for Langley, but she’s a woman.”

“Well, I’m bi, and she’s fine too.”

Shameless giggling ensues, and you have to stifle one as well.

“Wouldn’t mind doing some extra credit for Professor Pike…”

“That’s so tacky, Mindy.”

“Come on, like you haven’t thought about it.”

The girls appear from the stacks, carrying literature over to the self service check-out.

“I just think that his lectures are amazing. He can explain literally anything so that I get it. And he knows so much.”

You stare at your screen, but you’re listening to the students.

“He should lecture more, why doesn’t he have any classes?”

“Dug, because he’s a professor, he has other things to do.”

“I’d give him something to do…”

More giggling.

“I’m serious! I ended upw atching that Youtube lecture twice just because he’s so good!”

The girls borrow their books while talking, then nod good-bye to you as they leave. You nod back, then hit up Youtube, and type in Professor Marcus Pike.

You find a video of him giving a lecture on the history of art, and open it. And your jaw drops.

The man in the video is confident without being cocky, talkative, engaging, contact-seeking. He speaks clearly, even drops a couple of jokes, and he walks around the podium in the auditorium. If it wasn’t for that corduroy jacket with the leather patches at the shoulders, the one that you had enveloped around yourself last week, you wouldn’t have recognized the man.

You close the video and chew your lower lip. You always thought Pike was this nutty professor who didn’t know how to behave around people and preferred books to socializing. But the man in the video is nothing like that. So what is his problem when talking to you?

Navigating to Facebook, you search his name, finding him easily enough. He doesn’t seem to be very active, but his professional profile is listed.

His status is set to “single”, which surprises you, but you think no further of it. You click on to photos, finding only a few, most of them outdated.

“Good afternoon.”

You look up, startled at the familiar voice. Seeing Marcus Pike’s face, you close the browser window quickly.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, I was just… working.”

He clears his throat. “I’d like to return this.”

You accept the book from him, recognizing it as one of his previous ILL’s.

“Thank you.”

A couple of students come in, saying hello to both of you before disappearing into the stacks, phones in hand, library catalog probably open in their mobile browsers. Marcus looks after them, moving his weight from one foot to the other. You put the book to the side.

“Anything else I can do for you, Professor?”

He almost jumps at the sound of your voice.

“Um, no, thank you, I have to get back to work, grad student coming to see me, um, thanks, I’ll let your know if I need anything.”

He leaves the library, and you’re almost laughing. What the hell was that?

As soon as the students have found and borrowed their books, and you’re alone in the library with Mandy, she gets up and comes over to the desk. You smile your mild customer service smile at her, but she returns it with a wry grin.

“You know that he likes you right?”

You blink, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“Professor Pike. He likes you.”

You shake your head to show her that you have no idea what she’s talking about, and she laughs.

“Oh, come on! The way he stutters and stumbles when he’s here. And he talks about you all the time, every chance he gets.”

“He what?” Your voice goes up, and you clamp your mouth shut. Mandy nods.

“He always tells us to use the library, and ask you for help. The librarian there is really competent, we’re lucky to have such a professional at our service, that sort of thing.”

“Why do you think that means he likes me?” you ask, cheeks heating up. This is stupid, this girl is half your age, and you’re talking like both of you are in middle school.

“Because he’s super confident in class, in meetings, whenever he talks to anyone, except you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hello!” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Earth to librarian lady! He’s like a flustered cinnamon bun whenever he’s around you – “

“Cinnamon bun?” you interrupt her, incredulously.

“Cutie patootie in old folk speech,” Mandy smirks at you, and you scoff.

“I know what a cinnamon bun is.”

“Whatever. He comes here constantly, doesn’t he? I sit here most days, and no other faculty member visits as much. He’s here practically every day, asking you the simplest questions. He’s into you.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mandy,” you mumble, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Alright, if you say so,” she smirks. “But I know what I’d do if I were you.”

Later, when she leaves the library, wishing you a good weekend, you open up the browser window again, Pike smiling charmingly at you from his profile picture. You look at it for a long time before logging out, and getting up to reshelf returns.

Friday afternoon in the library makes for slow hours. It’s usually empty – even Mandy has left – and while it gives you the opportunity to prepare for next week, there are Fridays when you’d rather just close up, if you could, and go home early.

A quarter to four, when you’re impatiently tapping your foot for closing time, Marcus Pike shows up again. Mandy’s words echo in your head, making you nervous for the first time, but you manage to suppress that, instead turning on your professional persona.

“Back so soon?” you ask him lightly

“Yeah, I need a book.” He seems to understand himself how stupid that sounded.

“You’ve come to the right place.”

He tells you the title, and you look it up.

“It’s in, call number N5198-5299,” you inform him, then looking up at his hesitant expression. “It’s in the corner over there.”

“Um, could you show me? I’m not good at this.”

“Okay.” You get up and walk around the desk. “But it’s a class that you use a lot, Professor, you should be accustomed to it by now.”

“Marcus.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Marcus. I don’t much like titles anyway.”

“Uh-huh.”

You take him to the right stacks, walking in between the heavy cases. It’s a tight squeeze, this one, and the book is located further in. You pick it out, and turn around, only to find Marcus standing right behind you.

You’ve been in this situation before, many times even. Worst times were when you worked in the city library, and creeps would crowd you between the stacks, not trying anything but coming closer than necessary.

Your heart misses a beat, but you’re not uncomfortable. Instead, you smell something familiar and comforting, something besides old paper, leather covers, and ink. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Marcus’s cologne, the corduroy, his shampoo: earthy but fresh, a little like the forest after rain, but with an undertone of old leather armchair.

You wet your lips, and hold up the book he asked for.

“Your book.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t take it, so you lower your hand. He clears his throat, but this time, he doesn’t look away, but straight into your eyes.

“I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“There’s this classic movie festival this weekend, and I was wondering…”

“If I wanted to go with you?” you finish his sentence for him, as he takes too long for you to wait. He blinks, then smiles that sweet smile again.

“Exactly. Yes. Would you?”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” The smile seems to broaden even more.

“Sure. Tomorrow?”

“Perfect. I can pick you up, if you want to. At six?”

“Perfect,” you echo, now smiling widely yourself. He exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entirely time.

“Perfect.”

The desk phone rings, startling both of you. The book falls from your hand, and you look down at it, then up at Marcus.

“I need to get that.”

“Of course,” he nods. You make a little movement with your head.

“I need to get past you, Marcus?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry.”

He backs out from between the cases, letting you out as well. His cologne seems to rub off on your arm when you brush past him, hurrying to the desk. You answer the phone and try to focus on the person calling, take a couple of notes, and end the call just as Marcus comes walking to the desk, book in hand. You check it out for him, give him your number, and he smiles again as he thanks you. You follow him to the door so that you can close up after him.

“I’ll call,” he promises as he steps out. You nod, hand on the door handle.

“Looking forward to it.”

He raises the book as a farewell, then starts walking down the corridor. You’re about to close the door when you suddenly step out, calling his name.

“Marcus!”

He turns around immediately, and now that he’s standing with his back straight, instead of hunched over, you notice how tall and broad-shouldered he is.

“Yes?”

“For the record… you’re into me, right?”

He chuckles, his ears turning pink. “Yeah, I’m into you.”

“Just checking,” you grin. “See you tomorrow.”

[yazthebookish]

Maybe I'll spoil you guys and talk about Gwynriel and ACOTAR5 and anything related to it overall. I recently finished my HOFAS reread and have some fresh thoughts. I'll let my thoughts guide me and some of these points I've already addressed in my insta stories yesterday. I just rather share a lengthy post here since I'll only tag under #gwynriel.

I often see arguments about how Gwyn and Azriel can't move the plot forward because the series is centered on the Archeron sisters.

First, that's not true because Sarah is following what she called "a traditional romance route". She's following the same patterns of Nalini Singh, Kresley Cole, and Lisa Kleypas where they publish multiple books in the same series following different couples.

This is fitting for a series like ACOTAR because it's romance-centered. And Sarah have already said that each couple is getting one book and there will likely be more books beyond ACOTAR6.

Saying that doesn't dismiss the importance of the sisters to the story, Feyre already has a trilogy centered on her. The spin-off just follows different characters including the sisters.

I won't try hard to convince people on this because I've already posted almost everything Sarah said about the spin-off series and what's it's about. So if the next book is not centered on an Archeron sister, that's for Sarah to bamboozle the fandom with.

One thing that stuck out to me is when I compared the ending of ACOSF with the scene of Bryce giving Nesta Gwydion and seeming like she left Nesta with a new quest.

First, this is what the text says, and this is Chapter 80, the very last chapter in ACOSF:

Succeeding in the Blood Rite didn't mean the training stopped. No, after she and her friends told Cassian and Azriel most of the details of their ordeal, the two commanders had compiled a long list of mistakes that the three of them had made that needed to be corrected, and the others wanted to learn from them, too. So they would keep training, until they were all well and truly Valkyries. Gwyn, despite the Rite, had returned to living in the library.

1. The Valkyries are not yet a unit.

2. SJM only and specifically highlighted that Gwyn, despite the Rite, returned to living in the library. It was like "hey, remember all the talk Gwyn did about wanting to leave the library after two years? Yeah that's on hold a bit but keep that in mind". She didnt even add Emerie or the other priestesses to that sentence.

With Nesta being left with Gwydion to find out why the 8-pointed star was tattooed on her, I don't think the next book will start with "hey Elain take this sword and deal with it". Who are Nesta's main companions now? Gwyn and Emerie.

I'll be back to the Valkyries but let's just talk about Azriel for a bit.

It is so painfully obvious to me that Azriel is being handed the Illyrian plot on a golden platter. How big or small of a plot it is depends on SJM, but it's important based on the fact that she fleshed out the Illyrian's origins and tied them to the crossover AND making Truth-teller the knife of Enalius.

That is a big deal for an Illyrian like Azriel.

And I quote my friend Lacie on this, it is very poetic for Azriel to be the owner of the knife that originally belonged to the person who freed his own people from the Daglan's clutches, perhaps because he saw his people are more than just slaves to the Daglan—how powerful would it be for Azriel, who loathes his own people, to parallel Enalius.

And for years some people were against Azriel dealing with this plot because he shouldn't make peace with his "abusers", its true his own family and some Illyrians failed him but he is condemning an entire population. Good people like Emerie and Balthazar. Even Rhys's mother, who had valid reasons to hate her people especially as a female, still made sure to make Rhysand connect with his Illyrian heritage and he even goes on to say that his mother didn't forget what they did to her but still loved her people.

If both Cassian and Rhysand (and by extension the author) continue to flag Azriel's hatred of the Illyrians as an issue—then it is a damn big issue for it to be addressed repeatedly.

Okay so to address my final point about Gwyn and Azriel and how they can move the plot forward.

Now I didn't detail out much about what the next book will deal with because that's another post (and I already have a post on that).

All of our theories and predictions are based on information that is available to us. Saying Azriel and Gwyn cannot move the plot forward does not make any sense because the central plot is tied to multiple characters, Archeron or not.

If SJM wants to make a character move the next book's plot forward, she can do it because she's in control of the story. She's in control of the narrative. She's in control of the characters.

The characters are puppets and this is an unfinished story. If some characters would add more value and make for a more interesting story before the others, she can decide on that. If she wants to make Eris the protagonist of the next book, she can easily do that whether the fandom wants it or not.

Let me give you an example of minor characters that pushed the plot forward and became main characters: Yrene Towers and the Hind. These kind of arguments could've been used for them in HOEAB or HOSAB and Pre-TOD. Before HOSAB/HOFAS and TOD, could we have predicted that they would have played a crucial role before those books? Not likely because they had minimal appearances and were not part of the main cast. This is what I'm talking about.

You can't know how a character will contribute to a story until you see how it all unfolds. We can make guesses on the information we have which is why I believe three characters are likely to join the main cast: Gwyn, Emerie, and Eris.

Why is it so easy to accept that Emerie might be sharing a book with an original character like Mor but it's hard to comprehend the fact that Gwyn could also share a book with Azriel? Because Emerie showed up in ACOFAS? To me that's not really a strong argument based on Sarah's writing and what we have in the books, she doesn't really pick based on who showed up the earliest. Here's a good example: Hypaxia, who showed up earlier, didn't even get her own chapters but the Hind did.

And there's one argument I recall about how I need to rely on Nesta to have a plot focused on Gwyn or the Valkyries in the next book. Nesta's arc is clearly not over based on HOFAS, but does that mean she's getting a POV? Not necessarily. I don't think she is. Gwyn is the perfect candidate for us to see what's going on with Nesta post-HOFAS and how they all deal with the Valkyries and whatever Sarah will set up with them.

There is this whole Valkyrie/Illyrian conflict that could be triggered as a result of the Blood Rite, with Ramiel definitely being an important location to explore in the next book, we also have the Pegasi and the Prison and the implications of the crossover. It makes sense to have an Illyrian and a Valkyrie POV to deal with some plots in the next book.

"Gwyn contributes to nothing" we can't know until the book is out. How sure are we that maybe SJM won't connect her to the crossover by making her mysterious father a Worldwalker? Or Prince of Hel? Or an Asteri? Maybe I'm right maybe I'm wrong.

"But Koschei! And the Human Queens!" Koschei will always be a background player pulling on the strings until the final book as it's obvious he is the big bad in the series, unless someone even worse is revealed. But no one is dismissing Koschei or the Human Queens messing around.

Literally what's the point of the story or the fun elements of surprises or plot twists if you need Sarah to list down everything that the next books will deal with. That's not how a story develops to me. I don't need to know everything in advance to just know how it will go. That's like knowing spoilers early on and checking off with each book what happened and what didn't happen. I feel like it's close to how a lot of readers were disappointed with not having enough ACOTAR in HOFAS, because Sarah implied half of the book would be set in Prythian. So by the time the book came out and it wasn't that, people were vocal about it.

In my opinion, SJM set a good foundation for Gwyn's arc to build up on in ACOSF and her arc is not over. We won't get mentions of her still carrying the guilt of her sister's death or not leaving the library after she said she's sick of being there for two years without us seeing resolution for that. She wouldn't be in Azriel's bonus chapter if she is not involved with him.

To conclude, my reread still affirms to me that the next book with an Azriel/Gwyn book. Azriel is clearly being set in the forefront.

[notjustjavierpena]

Hiii!!! Can you do some phone sex with dbf!joel? I’ve seen it around but I’d love your take on it 😈

Pillow

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I love you, anon. This is so fun to write! Keep it coming.

Summary: Leaving for college after fucking your dad’s best friend a whole summer is sure to bring along some withdrawals symptoms.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (MDNI!), pillow humping, f masturbation, daddy kink, phone sex, dirty talk, m masturbation, mutual masturbation, somehow also a bit of fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48953992

Pillow

Physically, Joel is annoyingly far away from you when you finally leave for college again, but in your mind, he is very much present all the time during classes. He floods your brain with filth, sweet nothings, a sudden memory of how it feels to kiss him and how his fingers feel inside you.

You miss him and it’s frustrating.

Frustrating to a degree that you haven’t quite experienced before, one that makes you want to say a naughty word just to see him drive across the country to tell you off. It must be withdrawal symptoms, you think, as a result of spending a whole summer being so close to him. Every day bouncing on his dick with his hand on your throat, able to see him, have him, whenever you wanted.

Yes, you have his number in your phone’s contacts, but so far all you have messaged him is that you’ve arrived safely, and his dry response of a simple smiling emoji and a thumbs up tells you that he is not the type to text regularly. You’re surprised he even knows how to use emoticons.

It’s Friday night after your first week back and you are alone in your room. The dormitories are quiet, empty of students who have gone out to celebrate the so far successful survival of being back to having their noses in the books again. Even your roommate has gone out despite her being notoriously known for staying in to read ahead. You wonder if something’s happened to her over the summer that’s changed her — just like you have changed from enthusiastic to filled with dread, unable to say why to anyone. 

“Just don’t feel like going out to get hammered,” you’d said instead, head in your pillow as you had tried to hide your blues. Is this heartbreak?

Your face is still squished into your pillow, arms wrapped around it to feel something close to an embrace. All the other decorative ones have been thrown onto the floor. Your blanket has been discarded too since it’s still warm at night. You have one leg tucked under your body as you scroll mindlessly through your Instagram feed and watch stories of people in bars, singing loudly and drinking beer.

It’s been an hour since you texted Joel, the famous non-texter, that you missed him. The radio silence is driving you insane, even more so because you do not wish to be the person who demands constant attention. 

But the text has sent your heartbeat skyrocketing. Yet the pulse isn’t just evident in your chest; it’s moved down south so quickly. You miss him, yes, but fuck, you miss his mouth, soft tongue on your clit, pads of his fingers rubbing against that little spot inside you that made you a believer. Though above all, you miss his cock that fits perfectly inside of your, now wet, cunt.

Eyeing the floor, your gaze falls upon your new silk pillow. It was a birthday present from your roommate, something about the silk covering being good for your hair’s health, but right now, it’s going to serve a greater purpose. 

You snatch it from the floor and haul it onto the bed, impatiently getting onto your knees to pull your hoodie over your head, exposing your chest, and tug your underwear down to your knees. It’s not like you’re in a hurry since it’s still early, but you are too lazy to take your panties all the way off.

You consider getting up and locking the door for a moment, but you should be able to hear if your drunk roomie stumbles towards your shared room, so the need to get off wins over your laziness once again. 

From previous experience, you bunch up the pillow how you like it. The silk is tricky since it’s smoother than your normal pillow, but you manage to straddle the fabric how you want it after holding it in place. It’s so soft and comfortable against your very sensitive skin, cooling against your wet heat.

You reach down between your legs to spread yourself open a little, letting out a soft sound as the bunched-up stuffing of the cushion settles right where you need it the most. Your heart is beating out your chest as you start rutting your pussy against the silk, seeking out some kind of disappearance act for the constant ache and dread in your body from being exposed to missing Joel fucking Miller. 

You get lost in the sensation quickly. Warmth spreads across your chest as your breathing becomes heavier. Your sensitive clit throbs, earning friction that gets you humming in pleasure. If you close your eyes, you can almost feel his lips ghosting along your neck and you imagine that he is the one touching you between your legs, chest towards your back, and arm around your waist, so he can cup your mound and plunge two fingers into you. Your walls clench, a higher-pitched moan bouncing off the walls.

You grind harder against the pillow. Your thighs tense a little as you rock back and forth, cunt fluttering as you feel closer to the edge by the second. Oh, how you wish to have his face between your thighs right now. His warm, thick tongue fucking you open as his nose bumps against your swollen nub. 

Your hips stutter. Not yet. You wonder if you could wait long enough for a reply. Probably not.

You move to get on your hands and knees, looking down between you and the pillow. There’s a stain on the silk, your arousal having seeped onto the fabric and made a darkened wet patch. Your cunt clenches once more, and another sticky drop of slick drips from you. 

“Shit,” you moan quietly at the sight. You are about to reach for your phone to cheekily snap a photo of your mess to send to Joel, but before you can open the camera, a message from Joel ticks in. 

You almost come at the mere sight of seeing his name on your phone. It’s still coded in as Joel (dad’s buddy). There’s no need to open it as you read it at the top of the screen. 

I have some time. Can I call you? -JM.

You don’t reply. Instead, you call him without a second thought. The beeping sound of your phone ringing has you shivering, but he picks up on the third ring.

“Joel,” you breathe shakily into the receiver. 

You hear Joel’s breath hitch in his throat at the tone of your voice. You imagine that he has tensed up since there’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, “What're you doing?” 

“Thinking about you.”

“What are you wearing?” From his tone, you can hear that it’s meant as a joke with a tinge of mockery too. You suppose that you deserve that, but you won’t let him get away with being snarky about this. He needs to know this isn’t just to get adventurous with him, but rather to relieve you of misery. 

“Nothing, Daddy, I miss you… It hurts,” you pout despite him not being able to see. 

“Where does it hurt?” He plays along. All mockery has vanished. He clears his throat, it sounds dry.

“My little pussy. She needs you,” you make sure your bed squeaks as you start moving on the pillow again. Joel is quiet except for a deep exhale as he listens. It has your head swimming once more in record time, clit throbbing impatiently as you’ve already edged yourself once. 

“Fuck, baby. I can hear ya. Got anythin' between those pretty legs?”

“Not my hand,” you say truthfully. You put your phone on speaker to grip the edge of the pillow, snapping your hips forward in your seat. 

“What then?” 

“My pink silk pillow,” you moan softly as heat starts pooling below your navel again. You want him to join you, but you’re not going to ask.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel breathes deeply in through his nose, a half sigh and moan, “We’ve been apart for a week and you already do this. Gettin' out of hand, baby girl. Don’t ya think so?”

“I can’t function without your cock, Daddy” you feed his ego. It won’t harm anyone because you’ve found your statement to be absolutely true, “Miss being sore. You made me hurt so good, Joel.” 

“And now you’ve replaced me with… bedding?” Joel teases, but you hear him shuffling around like he is moving through his house. 

“Yeah,” you giggle breathlessly, bunching the pillow up even tighter. You wiggle your hips to seat yourself against the silk as before, a little crease of it nudging against your clit. It makes you push your pelvis harshly yet slowly into it. An idea pops into your mind, “Wanna see?”

You hear the sound of sheets, the clinking sound of his belt being unbuckled, and then the pull of his zipper. That was quicker than you thought. 

“Hold on,” he replies and moves his mouth away from the receiver. You prop up your phone against the wall on the floating shelf above the head of your bed, listening to the faint sound of pants being shoved down.

When he finally calls you and the FaceTime logo appears on the screen,  you press the green answer button and stare right into the camera. If this was a planned call, you would have thought about your looks and your pose, but Joel will see you just how you are right now. 

He isn’t disappointed. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he says instead of hello. You cannot see his cock, only his broad naked shoulders, mouth that’s slightly agape, and his eyes, which have become a darker brown with his arousal. 

“Daddy’s so potty-mouthed,” you reply innocently, sitting up a little straighter to show off to the camera. You move slowly up and down on the pillow, back arched to push out your chest and one hand curled around your breast. 

“How long have you been draggin' your cunt all over that pink cushion, young lady?” He asks in a low voice. His shoulder is moving in a way that tells you enough, and if you could close your eyes without feeling rude, you’d be able to see how it looked when stroked his dick.

“A while, a little after I texted you,” you reply. In the corner, you can see yourself moving on the pillow as your tits bounce slightly. It turns you on to see yourself masturbating more than you’d like to admit, “I’m so horny for you.”

“Bet you are,” his eyes roam hungrily over the screen, “So what are you waiting for?” 

“What do you mean?” You pant. 

“You want me to see you come, ain't that the plan?” His breathing is accompanied by the sound of his fist pumping his cock, “To show me how good you can treat her when I’m not around to do it?”

You nod as you moan loudly. Sweat has started to form on your chest and breasts, glistening prettily for him as you thrust your hips faster to chase your climax. It climbs steadily, like a coil tightening in your abdomen, starting from behind your cunt. 

On the other end of the line, Joel’s heavy breathing is slowly turning into moaning as well. He is getting closer as well, trying his hardest to get to where you are. 

“Daddy,” you cry feebly, “I’m gonna fu— come.”

A tingle is creeping up your spine. You’re so close, letting go of your breast to pull the fabric taut with both hands as you rock against it. Where you’ve been panting before, you hold your breath right before you come.

Every single drop of tension in your body seeps out of you as the coil finally snaps. Your orgasm hits you like a runaway train. Your world fades from view for a few seconds, your mouth hanging open in a loud groan. You ride it out without hiding your pleasure from the world, hoping that you truly are the only person in your dormitory right now, concentrating on staring into the camera lens as you gain your vision back. 

Joel swears at the sight, speeds up his hand. He scrambles for his phone to angle it towards his dick. 

“I’m gonna wreck that little cunt when I see you next time,” he promises through gritted teeth, suddenly letting out a deep grunt of satisfaction as he comes. He paints his hand, nearly dropping his phone amid the intensity, “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You’ve collapsed into your bed, pulled your phone down to hold it away from your face, and stare lovingly at Joel as the camera returns to his face. He looks a little flustered, cheeks slightly pink from the blood coursing through his veins. 

“Stay on the phone with me for a while. I promise not to fall asleep,” you plead, swinging a leg out over the edge to pick the blanket up from the floor with your toes. You throw it over yourself, suddenly chilly when the air hits your sweaty skin. It’ll be easier than hiding the evidence by cleaning up too. 

“Alright, lemme go wash my hands first,” he says, leaving the frame. You hear his feet patting across the bedroom floor, but then you hear nothing else.

When Joel returns, he gets under the covers as well, “So, how was your first week at—“

You’re snoring ever so slightly. He smiles to himself but doesn’t end the call just yet, watches you fall deeper into slumber for a while before deciding it’s enough. He shoots you a text before plugging his phone in for the night.

Fell asleep on me, Sleeping Beauty. I miss you too. Props to you for not getting foul-mouthed like me. I’ll remember that. -JM.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[ceilidho]

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

[runaeveena]

Your dashboard if you were in a d&d fantasy world still involved in fictional erotica discourse part 2

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

now that the new Mountain Angel volume has come out can we please tag spoilers, some of us are still waiting for our pigeon mail

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

you can access the volume in full on TomePlane!

🎭 bardcampistrash Follow

until TomePlane acknowledges that its interplanar storage is made possible by binding aboleths to the plane and killing them then we are going to continue not using that platform, thanks

🦚 faeynadaughter Follow

aboleths killed my cousin who was a royal cleric. ill never understand why theres a whole movement to protect abyssal creatures when theyve caused so much damage to our kingdoms. and disliking a pocket dimension which provides thousands of people access to books? your attitude reeks of anti literaturism and mal-aligned virtue signaling and im not sure which is worse

🫒 tenthday237 Follow

Aliizya gets pregnant on page 62

⛰️ berenicesblade Follow

banished

620 Notes

🏰 finchtruther Follow

okay but the way that faelor finch writes every song that perfectly fits pennbiel liiike its giving closet fangirl

🧭 waywardwarlock

seriouslyy!! like what else is "give me your unmarked hand / in the shadowfell we won't be a secret" supposed to be about if not pennipher and corabiel

16 Notes

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

yall please dont fill up the unseen servant tag with your super fucking weird smut posts im just looking for tips on how to find my unseen servant

🪡 scç-writer

the search function on tomeblr does need to be updated but we dont have to kinkshame :)

🌫️ cloudgiant-snailboy Follow

the site is being overrun by virgin degenerates

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

sounds like you need Wilam the Wizard with Wandering Hands to help you summon the unseen stick in your ass

290 Notes

🗝️ crypt-princess Follow

so whose going to be the first to commission a painting of that scene with Aliizya and the beholder 👀

🍎 bloodmaledickening Follow

i already asked my local artisan he said he's gotten two other commissions for the same scene lmao

🐁 softbarbarian

girl i commissioned a tapestry

45 Notes

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

friendly reminder that devil deals are a real thing that a lot of people fall victim too and that demons are malicious and do destroy peoples lives if theyre not careful so please be careful when consuming works like Hellionfinity which romanticizes devil deals and fiendish soul contracts

🌾entangled-farmer Follow

imo any work of fiction that involves a romance between any type of fiend is not just problematic but harmful

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

i used to be indifferent to books that had devil romance interests because like thats their whole thing theyre seducing people to get their souls and the mc overcomes it, but reading through the replies i see that Hellionfinity actually ends with the devil character as the main romantic lead which is super problematic in terms of power imbalance and the fact that he has a redemption arc is so out of touch especially since our military is finally recovering from the azgurian assault

🧚🏻‍♂️arms-of-faelor

helliofinity also has a scene where the main character uses a soul coin that an imprisoned mortal gave him and he uses it to bring the devil out of avernus so he doesnt fully die and no one in the book mentions it or talks about how messed up it is to use soul coins and we never see the now bound to hell prisoner ever again

🕯️ andersfirelight Follow

hellionfinity officially cancelled on my end!

88 Notes

☘️ celest-ial Follow

moment of silence for all the customers waiting on drink orders while the tavern wench gets her back blown out by a new guy every night ✊😔

🦁 king-killa Follow

the gods work hard but Girthy Gladys gets worked harder

57,022 Notes

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

paladin and warlock romances are OUT! cleric and necromancer romances are IN!

🪭 royalcoinpurse Follow

the only thing a cleric should do to a necromancer is beat him to death so she can revive him and kill him again

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

❇️ arch-dryad Follow

i think we need to analyze why we're so quick to place women in categories of devious seductress or healer in romance novels as if that hasnt been the pervasive trope that holds magic-touched women back in our actual society

🍯 treebarkhookhandwagondoor

why do you assume these fictional tropes are mf couples only? can a gay cleric not beat his gay necromancer boyfriend to death?

🎲 beholdersbeholdingme

and off! beat him off cmon guys

5,275 Notes

🧀 weremouse Follow

yall ever be talking or whatnot and feel like no one understands you

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛄᚠ ᛡᚢ ᚳᚪᚾ ᚱᛁᛞ ᚦᛄᛋ ᛡᚢ ᚺᚪᚠ ᛏᚢ ᚱᛁᛒᛚᚪᚷ ᚦᛄᛋ

🧀 weremouse Follow

say that shit fr (<- looking around clueless)

🪨 sebrenenogdon Follow

ᛋᛁᚱᛁᚪᛋᛚᛁ

60 Notes

🌠 crownofstars

remember when that person made a call out post for the author of ilairepeler for using a ghost writer and it turned out the author was an actual ghost. writing. like a literal ghost writer. like.

🍄gnomestool Follow

arent you the dwarf that fucked a slaad

🌠 crownofstars

how would you like to become a ghost so you can write more witty comments like this for eternity

301 Notes

[tiramisuc0ffee]

Cold Nights.

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆ pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!reader

Summary: Suguru defected. Satoru comes to you for comfort.

warnings/tags: Takes place before "The Ghost of You" (which you can read here), and takes place after Warm Afternoons (which you can read here). Mentions events during the Hidden Inventory Arc, reader, and Satoru are close friends, but it's clear there is something more, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, not a lot of comfort tbh- like a sprinkle of fluff? slight OOC!Gojo, imo teehee

word count: 3.2k (I KEEP GOING OVERBOARD WHEN IT COMES TO THIS MAN)

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

It was an incredibly rare day off. Classes had been canceled and no missions had been assigned to you. The only flimsy explanation you were given by Yaga was that some form of internal investigation needed to be done within the school and it was in everyone's best interests to keep most of the students away from the main campus.

The news had been a shock and you certainly had several questions—the suddenness, the complete lack of clarity—it simply didn't sit right with you. A part of you wanted to attempt and pry for more details but, truthfully, the allure of finally having a day to just take it easy and potentially indulge in some hobbies you've fallen out of touch with was so tempting that you simply nodded with a smile before heading back to your dorm.

The sun shone brightly when you left Yaga's office, the day couldn't be more perfect. You capitalized on this, taking the time to finally visit that cafe you had been eyeing for a while, bringing along that fiction book that had been doing nothing but collecting dust on the shelf. You even did some shopping, treating yourself to a new outfit that you hoped to find an excuse to wear sometime soon.

But as evening approached, dark clouds rolled in and rain began to fall. Your eyes watched how the raindrops splattered across the window of your room, creating a repetitive pattern as you held a cup of tea close to your chest, sitting upright, your knees to your chest on your bean bag.

Finally a day off... God knew how badly you and everyone else needed it.

Especially Satoru and Suguru.

You couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips as you thought of the two men. Of course, you only heard stories of what they went through. Stories of a young girl by the name of Anamai who they couldn't protect, how Suguru had to watch her life being taken right before his very eyes, watching as the blood poured from her head, Satoru who came face-to-face with death and essentially lost his touch with reality, resorting to killing a man, though an assassin, in such a brutal manner.

You hadn't been there to witness any of it, but you saw the evident repercussions and how deeply the events affected them both.

With each passing day, you could see Suguru was looking worse for wear. Deep and dark circles contrasted heavily against pale skin, his hair growing long and unruly, and his body slimming, losing the definition it once had. And even though Satoru and Shoko would seemingly take his lazy excuses at face value when they asked, you were certain that you all knew how the raven-haired boy had something eating away at him.

Then Haibara died, and a hefty state of mourning took over the campus.

You watched as Nanami would have these flashes of anger, seeing several moments of barely contained rage and sadness. You understood his emotions deeply. You felt gutted. There was a part of you that always felt like you built a family within Jujutsu Tech, that these were your people and you cared deeply for each and every single one of them.

You remember the tears you shed silently in your room the night you found out. Remembering the handful of outings you, Suguru, Shoko, Satoru, Nanami, and Haibara went on. Several afternoons and evenings were filled with goofing off... just living life, feeling like normal high schoolers.

He was so young...

You didn't have it in you to go to the morgue to see his body, you weren't sure you could stomach the sight of it all. You knew Suguru went with Nanami, the two of them didn't talk much that day.

You tried to be as supportive as you could. You couldn't stomach the thought of seeing another one of your beloved friends fall, so you tried to be there. There were times you tried talking to Suguru, during the one-off chances you got to be alone with him for a brief couple of moments, but he would brush you off gently, giving you reassurances that you knew were nothing more than poorly constructed lies.

You wanted to be there. But what could you do? As much as it pained you to see him struggle, it's hard to help someone who wasn't ready for it.

You sighed softly.

But Satoru on the other hand of it all, his response was exactly what you expected, and if you were an outsider you would honestly have thought that he was completely unaffected by it all.

His normal demeanor was the same as always, carrying himself around with a lax and carefree attitude.

But, you second-years knew better.

Suddenly Satoru was pushing himself more and more, so much more than he normally did. You saw his determination tenfold and how there was this prominent need to push himself further to master his technique. You watched on as he managed to figure out how to manipulate his Infinity to discern levels of danger, automatically at that. His struggle to use Red was no more, mastering it to a tee and now proudly showing off the fact he was able to utilize the Reverse Cursed Technique as well.

He rose above everyone else so quickly, at such an alarming rate, it left many of you in the dust when it came to strength-

He truly had become the strongest.

But you knew, this all developed from deep-rooted frustration.

You could see as plain as day that he took what happened to Amanai and himself as a hard-hitting failure and a sign of weakness. And he wanted to make sure that it would never happen again.

But as a direct result of his intensive training and remarkable improvements, you got to accompany him on missions less and less, meaning he was away a lot more often than he usually was.

He often went alone returning with an earful of stories the moment he reunited with you, talking about what weak first grade he had to obliterate that day. Talking with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic delivery as you would laugh at his antics, munching on whatever sweet treat he picked up on his way back to share with you.

At least they had today to take it easy, you thought to yourself. You hoped that they would utilize this opportunity to do something fun to add some color to their life. Especially for Suguru, maybe Satoru or Shoko decided to drag him out somewhere, the thought made you smile for a moment as you took a sip of your tea.

Yeah, a day off for both of them was definitely needed. They deserved to feel like normal people again... even if it was just for a day.

BANG BANG BANG

A loud banging on your door had you jolting and letting out a soft squeak as you nearly spilled your half-cold tea all over your lap. You scramble to set the mug aside on your coffee table at you hurriedly rise to your feet, sliding on your slippers as the knocking begins to grow a bit more restless.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG "Coming!" you called out, hoping the knocking would finally cease. You swallowed your annoyance, trying to find it within you not to curse out whoever was at the door for giving you a scare as just a few gentle knocks would have sufficed.

You approach your front door and your fingers reach out and wrap around the doorknob, twisting and pulling.

"Satoru?" you blinked, your voice laced with surprise when you opened the door and were greeted with the sight of him.

It wasn't that strange for him to show up unannounced, he did it all the time and you were more than accustomed to the habit. No, what confused you was the fact that he was soaked as if he had been caught in the rain. His hair was matted down, his clothes clinging to his body as waterdrops dripped from his skin.

He didn't have his Infinity activated. Something was clearly wrong.

“Hey—are you okay—” you started, cutting yourself off with a gentle 'hmph!' when Satoru suddenly pulled you into him wordlessly. Your clothes dampened from his own soaked ones and normally you would curse the life out of him for something like this, but you made sure to hold your tongue, knowing very well now wasn't the time for that.

He held you tightly in his arms, and you could feel the shivering of his body against your own, likely from the cold wind nipping at his body from being out in the rain for who knows how long.

You frown, letting him hold you for a few seconds longer before gently patting his back, indicating for him to ease up his hold. You can feel him hesitate, giving you one last gentle squeeze before pulling away. You take the opportunity to close the door behind him, locking it and glancing up at him wordlessly before walking further into your apartment, inviting him further in.

"You're going to catch a cold..." you sigh out loud, moving hurriedly to your dresser, first fetching a towel and tossing it to him, which he catches with ease. He still doesn't speak and it bothers you deeply. The Satoru you were used to had no off switch, he could talk aimlessly for hours without a care. But this unnerving silence, the way it was so blatantly evident that something was bothering him and he wasn't even trying to cover it up— it was strange.

You open up one of your drawers, fetching out one of his shirts and joggers that the two of you agreed to keep in your room given how often he decided to stay over. Closing your drawer, you hold them delicately and make your way back over to Satoru, watching as he dried his hair, his gaze lowered to your floorboards.

"When you're done drying yourself, change into these... I'll get you something warm to drink and then we'll talk, okay?" You murmur softly, handing him the change of clothes, a gentle sympathetic smile on your face as you place a reassuring hand on his arm.

He nodded simply, leaving your side and heading into your bathroom, sliding the door shut behind him. You sigh softly, allowing your smile to drop to a frown as you immediately busy yourself by putting together a cup of hot chocolate. You grabbed a mug from your cupboard, poured in the hot chocolate powder as you heated up some milk, and reluctantly dropped two sugar cubes into the mug, knowing that Satoru would comment on it if you didn't.

As you are pouring in the milk, you hear the sound of your bathroom door sliding open once more, causing your eyes to flicker away. Satoru emerges, looking a little more put together than before, his hair was a ruffled mess but at least he was wearing dry clothes.

"You can hang them by the heater..." you say to him softly, eyes flickering down to the damp clothes that were in his hands while you stirred together the milk, sugar, and hot chocolate powder.

He does just that, gently laying out his clothes before sauntering over to your bed and sitting on top of the plush covers. You follow suit, fingers gently holding the handle of the mug, you walk over to him, leaning down to hand him the warm drink.

He musters up what looks like a weak smile, and you whisper a soft 'you're welcome' before pulling away and moving to go sit back in your beanbag—

But a gentle hand grabs your wrist.

And you meet his gaze.

His normally bright cerulean eyes are dulled down. He looks tired, and there's this specific look on his face— you don't like it—he looks so worn down.

He gently tugs on your arm and you immediately understand. Wordlessly, you sit down next to him on the bed. His free hand laces with yours and you give him a gentle squeeze, watching as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate, a soft sigh leaving his lips from the warmth.

He's running his thumb along your knuckles, lips tugging down into a frown as his eyebrows furrow.

A moment of silence passes.

"Suguru's defected" Satoru finally speaks, his voice devoid of any emotion, it's light, quiet in volume but the words have a sharp edge to them. They hang in the hair for a second, five, then ten—

"What?" you say incredulously, sounding more like a statement rather than a question. It's the only word your mind can conjure, your eyebrows furrowing, wondering if you heard him correctly, wondering if this was one of Satoru's sick pranks that simply went too far.

"He killed an entire village, he killed his parents— I went and saw him, there was this look of indifference on his face like it was nothing to him..." Words started to spill from his lips the more he spoke, not being able to stop since he started, "I wanted to stop him, I knew I had to, he would kill more, I could see it in his eyes but I—" "Satoru please slow down—" you tried to interject watching as he was getting more and more worked up with each word he spoke. His leg was bouncing rapidly and the hold he had on your hand was starting to become a little painful. His gaze was straight ahead, boring into the wall with this thousand-yard stare. He look petrified.

"But I couldn't, and he knew I wouldn't, he taunted me the bastard essentially telling me to go ahead and just pull the fucking trigger but I-" His voice broke and his eyes screwed shut, his head swinging down as his lips began to tremble. "I couldn't, (Y/N), I couldn't do it"

Then you see it.

Cascading down his cheek...

...along his pale skin...

...collecting at his jaw...

...dripping onto his freshly changed shirt...

A tear.

Your heart broke.

"I mean how could I...?" he laughs bitterly, "I'm not that heartless, am I?" he continues to laugh, a sorrowful sight as more tears begin to leave his eyes.

"I knew- we all knew something was wrong. And I tried... I swear I tried. But the fucker just wouldn't talk to me" his smile is wobbly, his bottom lip continuing to tremble and he bites down on it, a huff of air leaving his nose as he tries to still himself.

You truly didn't know what to say.

This simply was too much. You had never seen Satoru so vulnerable before. You had never seen him cry. And beyond that, you were still reeling from the news he brought to you. Your mind was running at a million miles per hour, searching for something, anything to say. Begging that somehow the right words that would heal everything would appear and leave your mouth.

But you drew a blank. So silently, you remove the mug from his hand, setting it on the coffee table next to your long-forgotten cup of tea, and slowly, you wrap your arms around him and hold him close. Hoping that maybe something as childish and as simple as a hug would provide some measly sense of comfort for him.

He breaks.

He's pulling you into his lap, arms tight around your waist and he shoves his face into your neck, stifling his emotions. His breathing is ragged and he's stuttering out nonsense as he tries to find his voice again but fails pathetically.

You felt your entire being shatter at the sight of your best friend being so broken, "This is not your fault, Satoru" you finally whisper, your own voice cracking, wondering if what you said was the right thing to say. "Like you said... you tried, we all tried- we wanted to help him, we really did-" A soft sob leaves your lips at the end of your sentence and the two of you just hold onto each other tighter.

"We can't save those who don't want to be helped.." you resolve, your hand gently running up and down the expanse of his clothed back.

You didn't know what more to say, what could you say at a time like this? Were there any right words? You were still reeling from your own emotions, you didn't know what to make of it all, and you simply felt devastated.

So the two of you sit there, silently crying in each other's arms, mourning over the fact that you lost another one of your friends. Wondering what you both could have done differently, wondering how you could have let Suguru fall so low?

"Stay with me tonight..?" he suddenly speaks again, his voice slightly hoarse as he continues to cling to you tightly.

"Of course..." You whisper back to him, not missing a beat as you attempt to wipe away your tears.

Eventually, the two of you move, making your way underneath the covers of your bed, lying on your side and facing each other. He brought you back to his chest, engulfing you in his arms wordlessly, allowing the two of you to fall into silence for just a few moments.

"Do you remember that mission we had together a couple months ago? The one where we thought we'd be going up against Grade Two Curses" he starts, voice nothing more than a hushed whisper that if you hadn't been so close to him, you may not have heard him. "Yeah, and it turned out to be Grade One's instead..." you whisper back, briefly recalling your annoyance over the misinformation that you and Satoru were given at the time.

He lets out a soft chuckle and you feel you've earned yourself a small victory. "That's the one..." he trailed off, letting out a shaky breath before continuing to speak, "we decided to wander about for a bit afterward... and we just- watched the sunset together and talked," he said, his hands trailing up your back to begin playing with the ends of your hair and a soft smile graces your lips at the action.

"Yeah, I remember that" you murmur, recalling the fond memory as you leaned into his chest a little more.

"So-" he begins, cutting himself with a shaky sigh, "...You don't plan on going anywhere, right?" his voice breaks again, and your ears perk up, realizing he was mimicking those exact words he spoke to you that day.

And you're unsure if this is a narrative you're creating in your head, but you realize at that moment that Satoru was just as terrified as you were.

As selfish as it felt, you realized that he also was afraid of losing more people. That there was a part of him that also didn't know if he could stand to watch as another person slipped through his fingers.

That maybe, he was afraid of potentially losing you just as you were scared shitless of losing him.

You felt something stir within you, an emotion that you couldn't quite place as you processed your own thoughts.

"I promise you... you're stuck with me" you say with teary eyes, mimicking your exact answer to him from that evening. You feel his body tremble and he just holds you tighter, the next few words he speaks coming out shaky and strained.

"...Thank you..."

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

A/N: well if you read "Ghost of You" - if you know- you know :P But that is the 2nd and final prequel/addition to the Ghost of You story. I wanted to write these two parts as I thought it would help bring more meaning to the story and that it would also offer a bit more of a deep dive into the dynamic that Satoru and the Reader had, and it'll help sort of justify Satoru's reactions and emotions during the story. But thank you guys for the love and support on this fic! It did so much better than I ever thought it would! I have a few drafts of drabbles that I have been preparing to post but I hope you guys will stick around and see some of the new works I will be posting. Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Taglist: @hyori2 @kalulakunundrum @smolbeanzzz @numblytemporary @satxoru

[bibliophilea]

So... this isn't the first time I've seen people being incredibly mean to a whole section of the phandom. It's the first time in a while I've seen a post this bad in the main "danny phantom" tag, though. I have Thoughts™ that have been stewing for a while. Thoughts™ that shouldn't be put in the tags of someone else's post.

I'm not going to link anything. These are just my thoughts, raised to the forefront by recent posts in the main tag.

TLDR: I have two main Thoughts™:

No matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom. The folks who openly despise real people for shipping fictional things do not represent all of phandom. Y'all deserve better than being called shitty names. Your ships do not make you a bad person, and I personally welcome you.

To y'all who keep trying to draw a line in the sand to define who is "degenerate" or whose work is "degenerate": the moment you draw that line, you create a way for others to shove people behind that line. And the folks who usually get shoved behind that line and called "degenerate" are lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. It's happened before on LiveJournal and FFN, and it's happening now, irl, with book bannings across the USA (and especially in Florida). The only way to protect lgbtqia+ folks and sa/csa survivors from this abuse is to not draw a line in the sand at all. Don't call folks "degenerate" for any reason, unless you're ready to have that finger pointed back at you by a larger and more negative movement.

If you desire fuller context, it's below the cut.

First: no matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom.

The views of hatred and disgust that pop up in this phandom don't represent all of phandom. No fandom is perfect, and we'll always see some form of the "logic of disgust" from some folks in any fandom. But no matter what you ship, and whether or not I personally ship it, I welcome you. You will find no disgust from me as I am now.

If you dig backwards into my blog, you might find some anti sentiment. My introduction to fandom was first FFN, and then tumblr, back when I was more of a black-and-white thinker. I'm pretty sure I experienced some form of shock when I really started digging in to the Wild West that is fandom. I don't know if I ever expressed this shock online. But none of you deserve to be called "degenerates" over liking whatever fictional content you like. Y'all are a part of phandom, too, and any attempts to erase you or deride you are wrong.

We shouldn't be drawing lines in the sand and throwing people behind those lines. That's dangerous.

Second: to y'all who keep drawing lines in the sand, please consider the broader context around you.

The moment you draw a line in the sand to delineate between you and your group of people, and "them" and their group of "degenerates", people find ways to shove other folks, including you and your folks, behind that line. Historically, both in fandom and outside of fandom, the folks who get shoved ALWAYS include lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. We saw this with the purging of LiveJournal. We saw this with the multiple purges of FanFiction.Net. We haven't seen this with ao3, as far as I know; but their stance seems to be very anti-censorship for fandom-historical reasons.

Outside of fandom, we are seeing this now. I'm doing my senior capstone project on book bans. According to PEN America's data, over the past school year alone, 154 counties in 34 states have banned 1557 books 3362 times overall. Over 40% of those bans come from Florida counties. And much of the "reasoning" behind these bans is the same logic of disgust that fandom applies to "problematic ships": They call it pornographic and pedophilia. They call it harmful and age-inappropriate. They largely target books about lgbtqia+ people and people of color. And this year, they've also targeted "books on physical abuse, health and well-being, and themes of grief and death" - expanding their censorship to "protect the children".

Censorship doesn't protect anyone. Instead, it prevents people from holding genuine conversations with real people about the censored material.

And if you're not ready to have that conversation, that's fine! You do you! But don't create an environment where other people can't have that conversation. That only breeds the sort of black-and-white thinking that leads to 1406 book bannings in the state of Florida.

This is just speculation on my part: but I reckon every single person who supports those bans would love to ban the same content you want censored. And they'd call for you and the content you love to be lumped in with them.

We all deserve better than that. So please stop drawing lines in the sand.

[creatingblackcharacters2]

Did you know that the creator of #Inktober stole his work from a Black artist?

Now you do!

I want to kick off October by talking about #Blacktober, an event for supporting Black and Black biracial artists that ran from 2020 to 2023!

According to the organizers' own website:

In response to the creator of Inktober plagiarizing his art book from Alphonso Dunn, and the antiblack harassment Black cosplayers and artists face for re-imagining their favorite characters as Black in media and an art community where we're underrepresented - we created #Blacktober in 2020 in hopes to celebrate ourselves, nurture the community and create a positive, empowering space for Black creatives.

Any Black creative and/or cosplayer can tell you that creating or cosplaying beloved characters while Black will lead to vitriol. From comments as supposedly "harmless" such as "oh thats the "Black version" of [character]" (instead of acknowledging that they are the character), to more overt antiblackness like "n***er [character]" and "[character] isn't Black!" with the intent to mock both the creator and the character in question. They suggest that the Blackness is an insult to the character, that it's not accurate. Far less normalized is anyone saying "white [character]" or "cracker [character]" about white people cosplaying nonwhite characters.

Virulent antiblack racism towards organizers and participants was amongst the main reasons that the organizers had to let go of hosting Blacktober.

We've had a blast with everyone these past 3 years watching fan art to original creations be born out of a passion for seeing ourselves in media. However, we, the organizers, are no longer able to keep going with this event, especially with the current state of social media. We've had to combat a lot both on the front lines and behind the scenes. Not just the organizers, but also those participating. This, along with time, was two of the few reasons why we've decided to sunset.

While Blacktober itself is unfortunately no longer an organized event, Black and Black biracial artists might still choose to draw something for the month under the #Blacktober tag.

No, this is not for nonblack creatives to participate in themselves. Not for you nor your Black OCs!

It's a shame that racism constantly seeks to destroy what Black people create, and that it's so common to steal, take credit for, and benefit from our work. But you can avoid being a part of that by supporting Black creatives in your space! I am sure they are there, if you put in the effort to look for them! Search the tag- you might find old AND new work! This also includes standing by them when they speak up on mistreatment within your communities. When you don't speak against antiblack racism, it means you tolerate its existence. And when you tolerate antiblackness, guess what it makes you? We can't say fandom is for everyone, and then not act to make it so. Let's do better.

Happy Blacktober!

[the-boy-meets-evil]

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | teaser | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: ~1k for the teaser (full fic here) warnings (for the full fic, teaser has none): art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, very brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, ambiguous ending, smut warnings on the full fic

a/n: this fic is for the amazing world tour collab for @svthub. i'm excited that i got to be part of it! the full fic will be posted on june 28th. if you'd like to be tagged, leave a comment, send an ask, or fill out my permanent tag form here

taglist: @aaniag, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. 

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “It wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

i hope you enjoyed this little snippet!