#to make it clear: I am NEVER referring to the people when i criticize a government or nation

[genericpuff]

Wait, if Hera hated nymphs, does that mean she had beef with Poseidon's wife???

Who knows, but it does shed a whole new light on this scene from Episode 1:

Like, in the context of the scene, it's clear the point of this interaction is to highlight how "lonely" Hades is that he's the only one at the party without a date. Though I do think it's funny that Hades is frustrated / shocked at the revelation that Poseidon brought his wife to a party that she would presumably be invited to attend, like... of course Poseidon is here with his wife, that makes Amphitrite royalty by extension and so at the very least she'd likely be obligated to attend even if she, for some reason, didn't want to go.

So Hades being like "GOD you mean I'm the ONLY UNMARRIED GUY without a DATE???" like yeah man that's what it means to not be married LOL

But in hindsight, knowing what we know now about Hera being cruel to satyrs and nymphs who are canonically lower class (making it a double whammy of racism AND classism) that interaction of Hades asking Hera if Poseidon brought Amphitrite right after Hera called Minthe "nymph trash" almost feels like Hades calling her out, to which she responds sheepishly, "... Yes."

Again, I know that's not the intention of this scene, but it does come with deeper implications now that the series is over and we know that Hera has a history of racism and classism which largely goes unaddressed.

And those implications kind of read like this:

Hera: "I, for one, am grateful! I don't have to spend the evening with that nymph trash :)"

Hades: "Did Poseidon bring his (oceanid) wife?"

Hera: "(・_・;)... yes, okay, Poseidon brought his wife, Amphritite, but she's not nymph trash or anything, she's one of the good ones!"

Again though, just food for thought that's kinda messed up and kinda funny to think about on re-reads. There's so much classism and racism baked into LO even from the very beginning and it's wild that it wound up going unnoticed for years. Even I didn't really notice it as much as I ought to have when I first started reading. To anyone who's new to the series, LO does a good job at bombarding you with colors, characters, Greek myth references, and feel good fluff moments between H x P to distract you from the often biased and outdated viewpoints in its narrative.

TBH, none of that is to say that Rachel herself is some massive racist for writing a story like this, but I do think she didn't really spend enough time analyzing the works that clearly inspired her and/or challenging her own inspirations to ensure she wasn't continuing the cycle of casual racism. It's really easy to be blissfully aware of your own biases if you never learn to address them, especially when it comes to writing fantasy stories which we tend to "disconnect" from real life, never once realizing that the messages and undertones we might accidentally be sending are often still realities for many people in real life today. Fiction isn't real life, sure, but it can still perpetuate some really dog shit thought patterns and subconscious beliefs if left unchecked, which LO is frankly full of especially upon re-reads with a more critical eye when you're not as likely to get distracted or swept away by the pretty colors and whirlwind romance.

[changbunnies]

All About You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: age gap, royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), pet names (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.

In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times– that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically. 

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check– and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option.

He lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason. 

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it. 

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you– he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability. 

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching the princess' description. And as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do.

He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself.

It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries. 

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe.

But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days. 

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you– there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere. 

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.” 

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power.

“Princess–” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp. 

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage.

Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are. 

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error– one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach.

You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night. 

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour.

He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.” 

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together.

“There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room. 

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised.

He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before?

You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to. 

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now. 

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.”

Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.”

“Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death.

He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you. 

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel– because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it?

You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter– you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl. 

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats.

You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on. 

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose– he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe.

You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning.

He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want. But you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily. 

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him– you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion, no matter what anyone says. 

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand. 

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs.

It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho thinks he would do if he were you, anyways. 

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?”

Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You– what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard; a man who is your fathers age at that. But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest.

“Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation.

“Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now? 

And truly, Minho was the ideal man; at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you.

He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance? 

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked.

You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help. 

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil; you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame.

You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly. You'd match one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other. 

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.” 

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control. 

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin.

In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this– to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side.

“You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” He looks you over carefully following your question, grip on the armrests tightening.

Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable? 

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.”

“So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated. 

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs before Minho rises from his chair. He's is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need– all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin.

He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..”

He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy. 

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips.

He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows.

Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck. 

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle. 

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip.

If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin. He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too.

His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body. 

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing.

You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. “Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something.

You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating. 

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly. 

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your arousal. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect.

You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head.

“Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?” 

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims.

“I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers.

It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women– women who knew what they were doing. But really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. 

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked– you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you. 

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question.

Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet.

Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation.

“You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. “Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss.

His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin. 

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling.

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all. “M-Minho, I’m– 'm gonna–” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence.

He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.”

All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips. 

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face and gushing around his fingers.

He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes.

You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers. 

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head. You’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down.

He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit. “Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly.

“Feels good, I just– I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel about him even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess–” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious.

“Minho, I–” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop.

You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please–” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble.

But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you– not that you mind in the slightest. You’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you.

He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release.

He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust. A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours.

Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him. His arms wrap around you snuggly, and keep you upright against his chest. You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek.

He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow.

“Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks.

In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably?

He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be. You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least.

“Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it. 

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same.

He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided– so if you make your future husband, your father, or even the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

[dollypopup]

I think it's interesting to look at the 'Mr. Bridgerton' scene as a backdrop for the eventual mirror scene. Firstly, in the fact that I think we've kind of misinterpreted it.

So many people are of the mind that scene's purpose to 'drag' Colin, but really, that scene has 3 primary functions. The first is to inform Colin that Penelope is aware of what he said of her, thus opening the door to clearing the air between them and providing an avenue for which Colin can apologize. The second is to establish the ground that they are currently on: Penelope has given up on the dream of Colin Bridgerton, in particular the perfect prince that can do no wrong, and has made it clear to him. It also creates distance between them that they will bridge.

But the third, and to me the most wrapped up in the mirror and the inner workings of their relationship is that it reveals how Penelope feels about *herself*. It's not necessarily an echo of what the ton considers her as, after all, we have a lot of evidence indicating that, for all intents and purpose, people aren't *unkind* about her, but rather that they ignore her. Audience members recognize this as Penelope's own shyness being the cause, she is often sitting off on the sidelines or not really talking to much of anyone, in the books she's referred to as the 'one who doesn't speak', and her LW business takes her away from being a character in the action of the ton to a bystander, kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts that perpetuates itself. Pen felt unseen so she became LW to have some power, but then LW herself must remain unseen and Penelope continues to be by design of her own making.

No, I think what it really reveals is that Penelope has incredibly low personal self esteem. We as a fandom has lauded that scene as her dragging Colin, saying that he's cruel and calling him Mr. Bridgerton is absolutely meant to create distance between them, but I don't think she's dragging him.

Because the person she is *actually* dragging here. . .is herself. And it is a general theme in her life. In Whistledown. Aloud. Even with Marina, when she complimented her, she assumes that she's lying. When Edwina says she's wearing a pretty dress, Penelope puts herself down and doesn't believe her, even when the compliment is genuine. In truth, Portia is not seen as being particularly unkind to Penelope. At least, speaking as someone who's mum was *awful* about my size and weight and outfits, Portia is. . .overall rather mild. She's not KIND and loving, not by a long shot, but she's also not targeting Penelope only. She's plenty mean and critical to Prudence, too, even to the point where she foists her off to her own cousin as a pawn piece. Penelope has low self esteem because of a lot of reasons, she's bullied by Cressida (I think a lot of girls are, she was pretty mean even to Daphne in S1) and her family isn't very tender to her, and she's not being pursued at every turn, but part of it is also her own perpetuation.

Listen to what she says "Of course you would never court me" "I embarrass you" "I am the laughingstock of the the ton". She sees *herself* as an embarrassment. She puts *herself* down. Arguably, more so than the ton does. She's meaner to herself than anyone else is, aside from Cressida. And honestly? Looking at Colin's face there. . .he is HURT that she considers herself this way. That she's projecting that onto him. Yes, he's hurt that he hurt her, of course he is, he never wants to hurt her. And yes, he's ashamed that he said he wouldn't court her the way he did and that in doing so, he validated her fears that she is unloved and unwanted, but also because. . .she already feels that way about herself. She's felt that way for years. And it's painful to care about someone, to see them as wonderful, and realize. . .they don't feel the same about themselves at all. I don't think Colin is out here feeling so wounded over the fact that she called him cruel and won't refer to him by first name anymore, but that he's most hurt by what she says about herself.

Because he *doesn't* see her the way she accuses. She says she never expected him of all people to be so cruel, but he feels the same way. He never expected her to be so cruel to *herself*. He wants to go somewhere private, not because she is an embarrassment, but because he wants to have a private conversation with her. Maybe assure her. Maybe explain himself. Maybe hash it out. But god Luke Newton's acting. . .he is *aching* for her. And it feels like he's going to do those lessons not in atonement for what he said (thank god) but to genuinely help his friend who thinks badly of herself. To lift her up. It's not about him at all, not about earning forgiveness, but about elevating Penelope. And that's. . .fuck, I just find that's just so heart stoppingly beautiful.

You can see, in that scene, how much he cares about her. How deeply and genuinely he adores her as a person. And just how painful it is for him to know he has validated, whether on purpose or otherwise, how poorly she feels about herself. How low her self-confidence really is. She is giving him a glimpse into the cracks of her heart, and when he sees them, he wants to reach out with both hands and make it feel better. Make her feel better.

After she says 'even when I change my entire wardrobe', he looks so fucking crushed. So 'don't say that'. So 'you really believe that?'. So 'God, I hate that you think that way'.

Because regardless of it all, he does love her. It's not romantic yet. It's not sexual yet. But he genuinely, truly, from the bottom of his heart, thinks she's wonderful. That was evident even in the 'purpose' scene. Every time Penelope opens up and reveals a facet of herself, he likes it. He likes her barbs and her dreams, he likes talking to her. He likes her. And he feels awful that he hurt her. And he feels awful that she's hurting herself. He loves her. He wants her to love herself.

And that's where the mirror scene comes in. Because the mirror scene isn't about sex, not really. Not entirely, at least. The mirror scene is about *intimacy*. The mirror scene is about being seen. Not just her seeing him, or him seeing her, but for Penelope to see *herself*. In a way, through his eyes. Because hers are biased rather negatively toward herself, which is evidenced in the 'Goodnight Mr. Bridgerton' scene, and in so many little moments we've already gotten where she's literally looking down on herself, feeling down. She doesn't necessarily *like* what's in the mirror, but he does. Because he likes *her*. And he wants to show her that he does. Show her that he finds her beautiful and have her recognize that in herself.

The 'Goodnight Mr. Bridgerton' scene is about Penelope revealing how she sees herself. The mirror scene is about Colin showing her how *he* sees her. The Goodnight scene is about Penelope thinking she means nothing to him, that he thinks of her the way she thinks of herself, that this is how everyone thinks of her, and the mirror scene is a direct response to that: No, he doesn't. No, he doesn't think she's embarrassing. No, he doesn't think she's a laughingstock. No, he doesn't think she's unappealing. And he doesn't think she should, either.

And he's going to show her that. Not just tell her, but show her. The mirror scene is so often a focus on Penelope, so much of Polin is in Penelope's focus, but approaching it from Colin's perspective and his motivations is so fulfilling, too. It's a glimpse into them in conversation, and a demonstrate of how Colin loves her. How Colin loves in general, openly and earnestly and altruistically. How he encourages her to be braver and more confident in herself, bolstering her because he just likes her *that much*. How he finds the most fulfillment and satisfaction in caring aloud. The mirror scene is a demonstration of his heart in reflection.

When Luke Newton said the first word that came to mind with the word 'Mirror' was 'Exposed', he doesn't just mean physically. He means emotionally, too.

God this couple is so fucking good.

[antianakin]

I found this on Tumblr and wanted to get your thoughts on it. So, that quote was from The Acolyte that the head witch lady says to Sol, and I knew that some would reference Anakin and Order 66 because of that line. But, I wasn't expecting them to mention that scene with Qui-Gonn.

Also, I don't know why some would compare Qui-Gonn to Sol cause Sol was overly emotional. He was impulsive, insistant on Osha to be his padawan, and wasn't composed. Qui-Gonn was more put together, and he spoke with reason even when he was denied by the council. I just can't wrap my head around this. The jedi aren't supposed to be emotionless. They just can't let their emotions mess with their judgment, right? So, why make Sol like this?

I have no idea what the "choice" thing is about lol, I'm not sure I want to know given everything I already know about this show.

I feel like I've made my thoughts about Acolyte fairly clear at this point. It's not shocking that there's a direct reference to Order 66 that condemns the Jedi and blames them for their own genocide. Headland has made herself EXTREMELY clear in basically every interview I've seen of hers where she discusses the Jedi and her ultimate thesis about them in this story. This is why I boycotted it and will never try to watch it even after it ends. Nothing in this show is meant for fans like me because I am not going to find it compelling or interesting or enjoyable to watch. I'm willing to bet every single person who loves Acolyte and thinks it's incredible probably hated the Obi-Wan Kenobi show (a show that was intentionally trying to feel like the Prequels and refuses to place the blame on the Jedi instead of Anakin himself), so whatever. I got mine.

As for Sol and Qui-Gon, they're not basing him on CANON Qui-Gon, they're basing him on FANON Qui-Gon. They obviously think that it's canon Qui-Gon, but it's not. Sol is based on Filoni's Qui-Gon, the Enlightened One, the man who was the embodiment of What a Jedi Should Be specifically because he "defied the Council" and was labeled a "maverick" as a result. People have taken the fact that Qui-Gon questions the Council somewhat regularly and decided this means that Qui-Gon like... understood what being a Jedi meant BETTER than the rest of the Council and that the Council's version of being a Jedi involves suppressing/repressing your emotions, so therefore Qui-Gon doesn't do that.

Some of this is also based on the fact that Qui-Gon believes Anakin was the Chosen One and the Council seems a little skeptical about that, but Qui-Gon is obviously right about this and so the assumption is that Qui-Gon is more connected to the Force or more clued in to its will than the rest of the Council.

This takes the whole "the point of the Prequels is that the Jedi were corrupt" interpretation and the conflict seen between Qui-Gon and the Council and makes some assumptions about Qui-Gon's character as a result. If the Jedi Council represents everything WRONG with the Jedi in this era, and the Council is in opposition to Qui-Gon, then naturally Qui-Gon must be everything RIGHT with the Jedi.

So when you take all of this together, despite the fact that Qui-Gon in TPM is actually pretty reserved himself, it leads to this interpretation of Qui-Gon as someone who just trusts his emotions above everything else and feels them more than any other Jedi does, which leads us to Sol, who is more visibly emotional. Since I haven't watched the show, I can't speak very well to how he's intended to come across, whether those emotions are meant to make us believe he's more enlightened than anybody else or not. I do know that the actor himself has said he explicitly based his character on Qui-Gon, so take from that what you will I guess.

Headland's views on the Jedi would impact her views on the Council as well, and a LOT of Jedi critical fans tend to laud Qui-Gon as some kind of enlightened messiah, so it doesn't shock me that she views Qui-Gon this way herself and made a character in her show that sort-of emulates her interpretation of Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon is VERY important for fans who interpret the Prequels as being about the Jedi's failure, so since Headland is writing a story about the beginning of the Jedi's downfall, it makes sense that she'd include a character based on someone she interprets as the last remnant of "what the Jedi should've been."

[roadside-oddity]

There is a Rampant and Vicious Cycle in the Online Left That Needs to Be Addressed

Every leftist needs to understand that not every proclaimed leftist is a safe person or one that is acting in good faith. Many people in this sphere --even if they are minorities themselves-- are Abusers. Let me be clear: they are Abusers REGARDLESS of --NOT because of-- them being a minority. Despite this, many of them have weaponized their standing as a minority in order to get away with their behavior and achieve what they see as some form of power and control over others. Let me be clear. I am referring to those that:

Manipulate and lie about pressing situations (especially when it's to harm another person or demographic)

Excessively use idpol to either elevate themselves to holier than thou levels ("listen to ___ people but only when it's something I agree with, which just so happens to devolve from constructive change to making others grovel and plead forgiveness endlessly before me") or belittle others (ie their skin color, gender, queerness, disability, neurodivergence, religion, age, etc.) in order to discount their point or not treat them as equal human beings; yes, even if their skin tone is white or if they are men, abuse does not have to be backed up by systemic issues in order to be abusive or at the very least harmful (sidenote: this does not apply to people talking about their experiences as a minority that is otherwise not experienced or understood by others, the issue I'm pointing out is when it's twisted to cover everything not directly tied to their identity and proclaim themselves as the only ones allowed to be the voice of reason, therefore shutting up everyone else and to avoid any constructive criticism or discussion)

Act on rage and at times even trauma to bring forth harmful ideals (ex: truly hating every person of a demographic, wishing for a genocide, making actual death or rape threats towards someone or a group, conversion, etc)(sidenote: I'm not discounting those that have trauma and even have harmful thoughts, just please seek help and understand that it is not healthy nor sustainable to paint or alter reality to be in line with what trauma makes you believe)

Actively try to get others they don't agree with to either permanently leave the internet or commit suicide and even celebrate when either happens

Excessively test others on their "purity" on unachievable standards to the detriment of everyone and Leftism as a whole (purity culture is fueled by christian culture in order to disguise doomerism, accepting defeat when change is not possible, of which is the very thing that will kill leftism)

Infight over weird made up issues (remember how divide and conquer is a war strategy? To split hairs and discount others for non-issues is to do the work of conservatives and nazis for them)

Shut down people or discussions over minor slights such as using an incorrect word/phrasing or any numerous perceived mistakes (example I've seen here: berating a person with schizophrenia (or a trans person or any other minority) for using a derogatory term for themselves when they're talking about how everyone else is speaking over them and not listening), ignoring the hypocrisy or not taking into account any number of mundane causes such as non-native english speakers, generational gaps, being in the process of learning (either recovering from harmful beliefs or simple ignorance), using those terms to prove a point (such as that example I mentioned above), neurodivergence, etc.

Not letting others talk about their experiences of oppression when those experiences don't match theirs, instead opting to call those people bigoted for contrived reasons

A rejection of nuance, intersectionalism, and even reality to better suit their goals (ex: claiming that every trans man benefits from the patriarchy and can never experience misogyny)

Misuse of therapy speak and terminology in order to water down those terms and render them near meaningless so they can weaponize them under the pretense of their original use (ex: gaslighting), or to cut off any need to connect or sympathize with other human beings and instead speak to them like a PR message (refer to this video by Zena and Poppy for reference)

They never speak on true leftist/progressive ideals or positive change, they only engage in destructive discourse or any behavior listed above

Making baseless dangerous accusations towards someone they don't like. Before you go harr harr you're doing that, I'm not calling out any specific person and am merely listing dangerous behaviors I've seen people here act out. What I am referring to are when someone casually calls someone specific a predator (or whatever else) with absolutely zero proof and expecting everyone to believe them no questions asked. This has been shown to ruin people's lives

Any other similar behaviors not included in this list (as well as classic logical fallacies), but what I've mentioned above should paint you a good picture

Every example I've pointed out were REAL EVENTS I've seen from people that proclaim themselves as leftists or even just progressive, and sometimes are even minorities themselves (some even infight against their own communities using the behaviors listed above, often out of internalized bigotry)(an example of a real event that happened here recently were when several people were making rape threats towards a trans man by the username of @a-faggot-with-opinions). To be blunt, I'm pointing out exclusionism in practically every form, asexual discourse, transandrophobia, TERFs/radfems, TEHMs, tankies, "cornbreadtube", nationalists and ethnonationalists, and all else I don't have the terminology for For many of the people that fall under that bullet list I would hesitate to even refer to them as leftist or progressive, as they never seem to actually show they act on it or even believe in it, only making an appearance in those communities for their own destructive personal gain; hell, often times they have ideals that directly go against what those communities stand for! Examples include TERFs with white supremacist beliefs, transandrophobes that are misogynistic, ethnonationalists that are antisemitic, puritans that are ableist, the list goes on forever. Once you know what to look for, you can see the hidden or overt bigotry behind their false "progressive" statements

No one is infallible No one is better than everyone else You are not immune to propaganda No one is immune from behaving abusively

These people are dangerous, whether they actually qualify as abusers --as I've been referring to them as such for brevity and impact-- or are people that are engaging in hurtful or fully abusive behavior (use this paragraph as a disclaimer, I of course can't know if someone is an abuser in real life unless there is documented evidence of such). Regardless, they are hurting the left and are letting the right win

If you see any of these behaviors either 1) take caution if you're unsure, 2) block them, or 3) if you have the fortitude, call them out. Either way, use your best judgement and think for yourself (or discuss with good faith leftists if you're uncertain). And remember, often times (albeit not always) they are actually fully aware of their disgusting behavior and are choosing to act maliciously, not ignorantly.

Stay safe, log off, do what you can to support your local community and leftism as a whole, don't let these people distract from the real issues at hand. Have empathy, if you don't have empathy then act in compassion, if you don't or refuse to do either please do not engage in politics. Misanthropy has no place in matters concerning humanity.

And remember: we have to stand together in unity so we can create a better future for all

[streussal]

i 100% agree with u about the fight, my question is why do you think they even included that scene? i don't feel like it tells us anything we don't already know & it gives ppl who dont remember the original scene opportunity to believe louis was the aggressor.. don't know how to feel about it to be frank

I got this ask after I made this post. Responding almost 4 days later so I don't know if the anon will see this, but I have some thoughts.

First of all, no matter how strongly a piece of media demonstrates who is the bad guy in a situation, there's always going to be people who side with the abuser, ESPECIALLY if the abuser is a white male and the victim is anyone other than a white male. Louis straight up said in the scene (LESTAT'S VERSION) "like you wrapped your hands around our daughter's neck" so it's pretty clear he's responding to Lestat attacking Claudia. On stage, Lestat goes off script and insists that it was wrong of him to drop Louis from the sky, and that afterwards Louis was "a broken thing. I know, I saw, because I am the one that broke him". He then follows this with the admission that he did it because Louis hurt his feelings, not because of any threats or violence from Louis: “I couldn’t persuade him to return my affections. I could force him to love me. And so, I broke him.” If people don't get that Lestat was in the wrong here, I don't think there's anything else the writers can do.

As for why I think the show gave us that scene:

Playing around with different points of view is neat, and showing different recollections of the same event is a recurring thing in this show. (I'm torn on whether this is Lestat's actual recollection or just something the coven added to make Louis look bad - see my interpretation that Lestat is being coerced into participating in the trial - but either way it plays into one of the themes of the series.) Yes showing the POV of an abuser could backfire if it falls into victim blaming but I think the show handled it very well (and there is a portion of the audience that is always going to see Lestat as the victim even when he straight up says he was the bad guy in a situation).

It shows Louis physically protecting Claudia AND prioritizing her over Lestat. One of the major criticisms of Louis is his failure to do either of these things, so I actually think it made a lot of people like him better. Most of the twitter reactions I saw, from people who accepted the scene as 100% fact, was people talking about how great it was that Louis was ready to kill the guy who hurt his daughter.

It allows Jacob Anderson to do something different! One of the reasons I'm suspicious of this version of events with Louis cackling is that I have not seen Louis act quite like that before. But Jacob definitely sold it! Makes me wonder if maybe this is yet another side of Louis! I don't know! It adds rewatch value.

The acknowledgement that Lestat dropping Louis from the sky really did do long term damage to Louis. Not just physically. He became "a broken thing" - there was serious psychological damage. After he got back together with Lestat, we never really saw him push back against Lestat again. A lot of his time in Paris is a reaction against being in an abusive relationship. (And then he gets in another one, which happens a lot in real life.)

But I think it's also significant that right after this scene, we saw Lestat's remorse. And a much more real apology than anything we saw in s1. Now obviously this does not fix anything. (Claudia highlights this - "Can I cry and say sorry too?" - She and Louis tried to kill Lestat and are on trial, Lestat nearly kills Louis and just gives an apology.) But it gives the possibility that perhaps Lestat has changed or realized that he needs to change. And given that the showrunner has repeatedly referred to Loustat as the central love story of the series (link)... we need to see that Lestat is not going to do the same thing again. We want him to be better for Louis. Not that it would ever be an entirely healthy relationship (they are vampires), but not "drop him the sky requiring months of recovery" level awful. (@awildwickedslip wrote an interesting post relating to this here)

[unikhroma]

the big acid theory post

(i am sorry for how long this is)

couple weeks ago someone on discord asked if i could dm them my gripes about acid theory, since they hadn't seen any criticisms of it. i was very surprised to hear that so of course i did what any normal deltarune fan would do and wrote an essay (aka complained for several paragraphs). posting for reference sake so i have all my thoughts in one place and never make a post about this topic again

----------

basically my criticisms for acid theory are on all tiers/interpretations of it as an life-changing event where he ends up disfigured. i don't think it makes much sense to happen for multiple reasons

for it to happen from a narrative perspective i don't really buy it. spamton's downfall is already tragic in that he lost his friends, his fame and fortune, and got evicted. in regards to the mansion, the eviction itself is the tragedy, in particular that it's implied that it wasn't only him that got evicted that day. a swatchling says that the mansion used to be for high-class citizens. the rooms that were once for these citizens are now for lightners, so it wasn't just that he had no money, he was gonna get kicked out anyway.

i mention this cause a common interp of acid theory is that the mansion staff threw him in as punishment, and i think there's little evidence for that given the circumstances. a while ago i went on this whole spiel about how mischaracterizing queen and/or swatch to try and support the theory makes it weaker to me but that's additional stuff

and about the acid as a threat, it's hard to take it seriously when the majority of mentions of it are for gags or game design-related. for example, the gold berdly statue being dropped into the acid slowly dips in because if it just sank instantly, you could very easily miss it. the swatchling being stranded on the island is a goof with anticipating a battle the moment you set the bridge out for them.

for spamton falling into the acid as an explanation for whatever caused him to be a physical puppet (this is going off of taking the addisons' word that he was an addison too), it doesn't really line up. it doesn't make a lot of sense from a lore standpoint; there's no evidence to suggest that the addisons look like puppets underneath. i mean it's an interesting hc, but to assume it's canon that that's why spamton looks like a puppet now is kinda just filling in blanks.

that one q&a answer where spamton talks about there being some kind of "spamton method" he used every day and became "big" to me implies that it was some kind of slow transformation into a puppet. it's not much to go off of, but it's a lot more compelling than taking a tumble in acid. there's more mystery there and might even explain why spamton showed up to the mansion less over time

i think at this point it's clear that at some point he did get pushed in by someone, as stated in the spa attire from the sweepstakes and one of his valentine's cards, but to me it seems like it was an example of him being mistreated by the other rich residents in the mansion. before he talks about getting pushed in a pool, he mentions that he's gotten swirlies at the mansion, and to me it seems like he's still really bothered by his treatment there which is why he mopes about it.

queen mentioning that the acid can shrink people is also played for jokes, even susie in the ch3 video saying that they'll die if they drink the acid is played for jokes (also i think it would probably hurt them cause they're lightners and not cyber darkners)

anyway, if acid theory ends up being directly confirmed without any cryptic wording and all that i would still dislike it. i just don't think it fits with spamton or ch2's themes and it's randomly dark in a way that's not appealing to me. i like psychological horror more and the puppetfication thing already fits that. i know it's definitely appealing to others and i don't think people are bad for liking it per se, but it's not my kinda thing at all nor do i think it's canon, so i personally want nothing to do with it

[maingh0st]

The hate Taryn gets is way too exaggerated and disproportionate. It’s just straight up misogyny at this point, in my opinion. The fandom needs to get over it.

I could literally write a treatise about Taryn-hate at this point lmao. I’m going to share some thoughts (this actually got quite long), but I want to include a big ole disclaimer: at the end of the day, everybody gets to engage in fandom in the ways they want. everyone is free to love or hate whichever characters they want, for the reasons that feel valid and real to them. that being said, the treatment of Taryn specifically is really troubling and bizarre to me. 

I think it’s worth pointing out that when we say Taryn-hate seems misogynistic, that means a lot more than just “people who hate Taryn hate her because she’s a girl.” in my opinion, fandom misogyny toward her often gets couched in broader terms. some examples of what I mean by this are:

(1) Taryn does things that are bad and I don’t like that - uhhhh okay. everybody in these books does shitty things, so let’s think about why specifically the actions of Taryn (a 17-18 year old girl being manipulated by multiple men in her life) fall into the category of unredeemable for you. the reason we might point to this being misogynistic is because it’s a double standard that doesn’t apply to other characters—we’re willing to forgive Cardan his cruelty, or centuries-old Madoc for the trauma he's inflicted and his ongoing need for bloodshed, but Taryn is just a stupid, evil girl for trying to secure her place in Elfhame through the levers of power that are available to her. she can never be forgiven nor redeemed no matter how loyal she is to Jude moving forward. why is that? what sin of hers are so particularly evil to warrant this response? and we have to answer these questions in the context of Elfhame & its moral code, not in the context of our own world.

(2) I could never see myself acting in the way Taryn does and therefore I don’t like her - okay? I can never see myself acting like Madoc, or even like Vivi (don’t get me started on Vivi & the fact that she gets passes Taryn never does), but that doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy for them. I understand that we experience the books through Jude’s perspective, so we’re automatically more prone to rooting for her—and to be clear, I love Jude! but fiction challenges us to experience the world through other perspectives, and it’s my opinion that Taryn acts in a way that is completely consistent and understandable with her experience of Elfhame. “I’m not like you,” she tells Jude. “I want to belong here. Defying them makes everything worse. You never asked me before you went against Prince Cardan—you didn’t care what it brought down on either of our heads.” 

while Jude’s defiance is held up as girlboss behavior (by me, too! I love a “get worse” arc), Taryn’s more traditionally feminine approach to finding her place in Elfhame is reviled (@slightlyrebelliouswriter23 has a great post on the fawn response to trauma & on passivity). more on this point below. 

(3) Taryn isn’t a “girl’s girl” - I am begging fandom to think critically about why Taryn betrays Jude & what that says not just about Elfhame, but about our world. these girls live in a world that affords them little power and agency. we meet them on the cusp of adulthood, and they’re both hyper-aware that they need to secure their place in Elfhame. Jude refers to knighthood as “earning” her place and is uninterested in marriage, but Taryn seems aware that she’s more likely to secure her place through the latter option (and also expresses the fear that Jude is going to leave her behind). it’s an oversimplification, but a useful one for the sake of this conversation, to point out that Jude chooses a more traditionally masculine approach, while Taryn chooses a more traditionally feminine one.

the tragedy is that this world—and particularly the men in their lives—pit them against one another. Locke offers Taryn the thing she wants most, requires a vow of her secrecy, and then begins flirting with Jude (and that's not even to mention him being a gancanagh!). at a point in her story where Madoc and Oriana are the only family who are still around for Taryn, Madoc capitalizes on Taryn’s ignorance (and also her awareness that she's never been the favorite daughter) & uses her to betray Jude. I almost never see these complexities brought up in conversations about Taryn, which is just gross to me, and echoes the ways that patriarchal power structures pit women against each other in the real world. 

I’ve seen people argue that while Jude’s approach is also flawed, she at least doesn’t betray Taryn. and like… kind of? she certainly doesn’t betray Taryn as directly as Taryn betrays her—but some of that just strikes me as dumb luck. consider what might’ve happened if Dain hadn’t died at the end of book one. what lengths might he have asked Jude to go to in order to prove her loyalty to him? or if we rewind even further—it’s honestly just dumb luck that someone didn’t harm or kill Taryn (Valerian, for example, could've chosen the wrong window). Jude’s antagonism of Cardan & his friends had a direct effect on Taryn’s life, and even though Taryn begged her to stop, she bullheadedly charged on. the difference is that Jude’s risky decisions ultimately work out for her, while Taryn has to face the consequences of hers not panning out the way she wanted them to. 

this isn't exhaustive, and there’s so much more I could say, but this is already so long. so in conclusion, the reason all this matters to me personally is twofold: 

at its best, fiction teaches us empathy. part of why I love tfota is because it takes characters & dynamics that are really messy & helps you, the reader, understand where everyone is coming from & why. the fact that we love Madoc is a testament to fiction’s ability to do this. so why is a teenage girl treated like the true villain of this story? what about her makes us incapable of empathy? why, in the mind of the fandom, is she not allowed forgiveness (or even just a chance at redemption) for the harm she's caused, while other characters are? I see people stanning Nicasia, who actively tortured Jude (over a boy, no less!!) ffs

fandom misogyny reflects our world. why are people eager to forgive toxic male love interests, yet hold the bar impossibly high for girls? why is there such a narrow set of choices & behaviors that we consider acceptable for female characters? Holly wrote a story about two young women carving out places for themselves in a world hostile to them, hurting each other in the process, and ultimately deciding to forgive, love, and root for one another—and fandom has taken that complex narrative and pitted them against one another, upholding one as the girlboss who can do no wrong while treating the other as scum. misogyny thrives on women treating each other like the problem, so if this is our attitude toward a fictional story where we’re afforded direct looks into characters’ thoughts, how much worse are we going to be in the real world, faced with real, imperfect women?

anyways, in conclusion: you're entitled to dislike taryn, but if you feel such vitriol toward her that you're literally making hate posts (or commenting under fanart of her!! holy shit), I invite you to interrogate where that hate actually comes from. fin.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Freak and The Princess (I)

Summary: Eddie lets you walk by during his rant in the cafeteria, stumped by your quietness and manners toward the town freak. He then decides to be the perfect gentlemen. [Part 1 of 5 depending on if anyone actually reads it.] 2k+ Words

Warnings: none! Just more fluff than a Pomeranian. There is also a very good chance Eddie is OOC but Imma risk it (if you get that reference, we should be friends).

A/N: (I'm terrified to do this.) This is the first thing that I've ever posted so constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated! I've been writing stories like this for years but have been too scared to post them for a variety of reasons, but I love writing and reading so if one person can get a little joy from this, then my goal is reached. I edited this and proofread it, but please point out any errors or things that you like! And please send requests; all the characters I write for are under my tag #characters! Hope you enjoy! :)

The Freak and The Princess

Part One: My Princess

Being as quiet as I am has its pros and cons. 

Pros: I don’t get noticed often, can easily observe everything around me, and can escape my real life whenever I want. 

Cons: when I do get noticed, it gets real. 

I’ve lived in Hawkins since eighth grade. Now I’m a senior. I don’t have any consistent friends, although Steve Harrington came to be someone I knew I could trust and talk to after dealing with the Russians side by side last year. The only person I noticed for myself was Eddie Munson. He was a big, bad high schooler when I moved here, and I guess that hasn’t changed. Since he’s two years older than me, we’ve never talked or met, but I know who he is, and he’s one of the few people who can make me smile without even realizing I’m there. 

I was walking through the cafeteria, trying to get outside away from all the noise and people, when I heard a voice I’d recognize anywhere say, “But as long as you’re into band, or... science. Or parties. Or A GAME WHERE YOU TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS!!”

I watched as he walked down the Hellfire lunch table, stopping at the end and responding to Jason’s comment with fake devil horns. He continued talking, jumping off the table and finishing. He stepped back, motioning for me and another girl ahead of me to walk by him. 

“Thanks,” I whispered, smiling as I met his eye. I felt his eyes on me as I walked by, and I decided he was trying to figure out who I was. I waited in an empty classroom until most people cleared out before walking to my locker and gathering my things. 

“Hey,” someone said beside me. I jumped slightly before turning to see Eddie leaning against the lockers and looking at me. 

“Hi, Eddie,” I said quietly.

“You know my name?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Man, now I feel bad. Let me guess?” 

I laughed lightly and nodded, closing my locker and picking up my bag. 

“Marcie? No, that doesn’t fit. Kelsey? Too cheerleader-y. Princess?”

“That your final guess?” I smiled. He nodded, a proud look on his face. My watch beeped, and I pressed it to silence it. 

“That’s my cue. See you around, Eddie!” I said, walking out the door. 

“See ya, princess!” he called. I blushed, glad to have my back to him. The next day I went to school as usual; until lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, on my way through as always, when I felt someone walk up beside me.

“Hey, so I haven’t seen you around before and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jason Carver.”

I kept walking, not talking to him. “What, I can’t even get a name? Pretty girl like you has to have a pretty name!” I was at the door when he grabbed my wrist, “Look, I get that you’re shy. All I’m asking for is a name, beautiful.” 

He was surprisingly cordial, but I knew there had to be a catch. 

I thought quickly, deciding to say, “Arwen.” 

I pulled my hand from him and rushed outside. After my last class, I walked to my locker, hoping to see Eddie again, but soon my watch beeped, and I headed to work.

“Hey, kiddo, how was school?” Steve asked as I walked into Family Video and pulled my vest on. I shrugged and started stocking tapes. I heard the door open then close before Steve spoke to me again. “Something happen?” I shook my head no. “I’m gonna go check on Robin. I’ll be right back,” he said, moving past me quietly.

“Princess?” I heard from the other end of the aisle. 

I looked over to see Eddie with two tapes in his hand. I smiled at him and quietly said, “Hi.”

“Fancy meeting you here. Should'a known The Hair got to you,” he smiled, standing closer to me. 

“Take it easy, Munson,” Steve warned as he returned to the counter. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, causing me to laugh lightly. His smile widened, and he held two movies from the new release pile. “Which one?” I gestured to The Goonies, watching as he nodded and slid the other back where he’d pulled it from. 

“Didn’t see you at lunch today. You race through the cafeteria again?”

“Munson, leave her-“ Steve started before stopping when he heard me talking.

“Got corned by Carver and had to make a run for it,” I answered.

Steve jumped the counter, pointing at me as he rounded the corner into the aisle. “Did you just answer him?” Eddie and I nodded, Steve’s jaw dropping further. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Uh,” Eddie looked at his watch, “thirty-six hours.”

“And you’re already talking to him?” Steve asked incredulously. I shrugged in response, continuing what I was doing. 

“She talk to you?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Yeah, but it took her a lot longer to start.”

“I just have a welcoming and calming persona.” I laughed, shaking my head. Eddie walked past me to check out the movie, still bickering with Steve. He turned to me as he walked out, waving. 

“Let me know what you think,” I said, pointing to the tape with my chin. 

“Absolutely. See you tomorrow, princess.”

“Did Eddie 'The Freak' Munson just call you ‘princess’?”

“Yeah. He didn’t know my name, so he started calling me that.”

“Why didn’t you tell him your name?”

“Couldn’t. I don’t mind though.” I fell silent again, ignoring Steve’s questions and comments. I went home a few hours later, finishing my homework and hoping to see Eddie again tomorrow.

~

I exited my fourth-period class, ready to sit by myself for lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, taking a new route the other way around to avoid Jason. I ended up closer to the Hellfire table, smiling as I saw Eddie in a heated conversation with the boys.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jason said, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he came up behind me.

I was too far from the door and knew I couldn’t speak more than a few words. I only had one choice. I shrugged his arm off me and made a beeline for the Hellfire Table. There was an open seat by Eddie, so I slid into it, looking at him as they all silenced, staring at me. I flitted my eyes toward Jason, who glared at me and Eddie. I was shrinking into myself, wanting the floor to swallow me, when I felt Eddie grab my hand, his thumb rubbing the back.

“Guys, this is my princess. Princess, these are the guys,” he said. Then leaned in and whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you, ‘kay?”

I nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. Jason stormed off, and I breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t move to leave, choosing instead to silently listen to the guys talk about their new Hellfire campaign as I played with Eddie’s rings. Walking out of my last class, I saw someone leaning against the locker beside mine.

“Thanks for the help at lunch,” I said, walking by him and opening my locker.

“Anytime, princess. You working today?”

“No, I’m off the rest of the week. Scheduling error by my idiot boss, Keith.”

Eddie nodded. We both looked out the window when a loud crack of thunder sounded, and rain started pouring down.

“You have a ride?” Eddie asked, pushing off the locker as I closed mine.

“No, but I don’t live far.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll give you a ride.” He slipped his jacket off and laid it over my shoulders. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to. It’s completely fine. I’ve walked home in the rain before.”

“A princess should never walk home. Let alone in the rain. As long as I’m here, it won’t happen again.” He extended his hand, “Milady.”

I placed my hand in his, our fingers interlacing as I said, “Why thank you, kind sir.” We ran to his van, and I gave him directions to my house. “See you tomorrow?” I asked, beginning to take his jacket off as he parked in my driveway. 

“Of course. Keep the jacket, you still have to walk in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can pick you up in the morning if it’s still raining like the forecast said.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks for the ride, Eddie.”

“A pleasure, princess.”

I ran to my front porch, shaking the rain off and unlocking my front door. I waved to Eddie as he backed out, then went into the empty house. There was one more day, then solitude. At least I had Eddie and Steve to make the days more tolerable.

~

Eddie kept his promise, pulling up in front of my house as I stepped outside. I moved to return his jacket, but he shook his head, “That’s yours until it stops raining.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Have to keep my princess dry and warm.”

‘My princess.’ His princess.

We walked into school together before going our separate ways for classes. I walked into the lunchroom, setting my sights on the Hellfire table. I was just a few steps away when Jason stopped me, standing between me and the table.

“You have a lot of nerve ignoring me,” he said loudly. I saw Eddie pick his head up and look over, making eye contact with me over Jason’s shoulder. He stood up but didn’t move toward me, waiting. 

“You gonna say anything? Can you even talk, Arwen?” I heard a few laughs before Jason continued, “What? Did The Freak sell your soul and your tongue to the devil?” I clenched my jaw, starting to see red. “Just a matter of time until he sacrifices you. Or worse,” he whispered. He backed up with an evil grin. Now everything was red. 

“How do you know he hasn’t sacrificed your soul? Oh, that’s right, your head is so far up your butt you’d notice the extra room,” I responded quickly.

The whole cafeteria broke out into yells and clapping. 

“What’d you just say to me?”

“I said to get your ears checked. Your ego seems to be clogging everything up.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Not half the person you think you are.”

“If you want attention, baby, just come out and say it.”

I saw Eddie step toward us but gently shook my head, stopping him.

“Maybe I do want attention. But I promise I don’t want yours. So, if you’d be so kind as to move out of my way, I’d appreciate it.” He took a single step to the side. “Oh, and if you so much as look at me or any other member of Hellfire again, I will shove my foot up your butt until your heart stops. Got it?”

Jason nodded and rushed out of the room, everyone cheering again as I walked toward Eddie and grabbed his hand. He nodded, following me to an empty classroom. 

“Why did I do that?” I groaned as I sat down, burying my face in my hands. 

“Because you’re amazing.”

“Now people know who I am, and they’ll talk to me.”

“I’ll become your personal bodyguard. Nobody will be able to talk to my princess.”

The bell rang, and we reluctantly returned to classes, meeting by my locker at the end of the day. 

“Let’s drop by Hellfire real quick.” We entered the room, and he dug through a box before pulling something out and turning around, unfurling one of the signature Hellfire Club t-shirts. “This should fit. You called yourself a member at lunch and we have a very strict policy regarding verbal agreements.”

“Oh, of course,” I smiled and slid it over my other shirt.

We stopped by Family Video to return Eddie’s tape, Steve’s eyes widening as we walked in together, asking, “What’s happening here?”

“Someone stuck it to Carver today, in front of the whole school,” Eddie smiled. 

“Good job, babe,” Steve said as he began returning the movie, “How ya feelin'?”

“I’m ok,” I shrugged, “hoping this doesn’t lead to people trying to talk to me.”

“Well, keep hanging with this freak and it won’t be a problem.” Steve smirked at Eddie.

“Whatever, Hair.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, princess.” He wrapped his arm around me, and I waved to Steve before walking toward the door.

“Take care of my girl,” Steve yelled.

“I’ll take care of MY princess,” Eddie yelled as the door closed.

A/N2: If you read this far, thank you so much! Please leave a comment or send me a message with any recommendations or requests (or if you're interested in more parts of this story). :)

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

https://www.reddit.com/r/acotar/comments/18rf6ex/in_defense_of_rhys_in_sf/

What's your opinion on this post defending Rhys in SF?

um well yikes. point by point, shall we nonny

feyre was not pro protective shield. she thought it a compromise because the alternative was rhys not letting her leave the river house for the entirety of her pregnancy (horrifying by the way) she traded one restriction over another (also horrifying), that’s not being “pro” something. and if the shield was for protection why did he take it away when they went to hewn city, so smugly announcing feyre’s “pregnant scent” even cassian noticed? it’s all about protecting feyre until he needs to parade her around like some prize he’s won right? op’s right tho, it’s not like tamlin, it’s worse. that shield was so tight, she couldn’t feel hugs or touches from her fucking family, no one could smell her. that is infinitely worse than being trapped in a huge manor, and given how much emphasis sjm put on feyre’s claustrophobia in acomaf, she should’ve not have been ok with it, but of course, feyre’s triggers don’t exist when it’s rhys doing the triggering. “as a high fae male” oh pls spare me. sarah can claim that the possessiveness and control is cause they’re not human and stans can believe it, but when she starts actually writing fae, and not super soldiers with vague, unexplained powers and pointy ears, i’ll believe it. sure it can be assumed that they had discussions on how best to protect nyx, but considering that in those conversation the danger nyx brings to feyre was never brought up, i am not giving rhys the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t somehow manipulate feyre into accepting that shield (again horrific compromise)

op is right again about not telling feyre about the wings being on brand for rhys, that doesn’t make it right. one day y’all will stop using the “morally grey” argument as paltry ammunition and get you some artillery of common sense. for the umpteenth time, actually morally grey characters don’t get their actions idolized or explained away with sympathy. “he tries to do everything himself” he’s not the pregnant one though, is he? i do not give a single fuck about his self-sacrificial tendencies when they deeply affect someone else. the knowledge about the wings was not his to keep secret.

“rhys is helping tamlin but that doesn’t mean he has to be nice” um yes the fuck he does when tamlin’s the reason the ungrateful dick is alive. “tamlin ruined himself” exactly what ruination is this referring to? surely not the fall of his court, which wasn’t his fault. and yea how he’s treating tamlin isn’t just because of feyre, it’s because he’s a shitty person that kicks people when they’re down so he can hypocritically crow about how magnanimous he is offering solutions to problems he caused.

finally, yea we don’t get rhys’ or feyre’s pov in the main book, but using “complexity” as a shield to the criticisms of the former’s actions in this is laughable at best. it’s not a complex thing. he kept life and death information from his pregnant wife who’s made it clear multiple times that she doesn’t like things being kept from her. seems pretty simple to me.

[capitalism-and-analytics]

Idk if you ever heard of it, but usually people, who go for minimum wage do it simply because they don't have any other option. You seriously think someone will intentionally choose a job with the least wage? Ofcourse not. And that kind of jobs commonly require a lot of energy and physical effort or sometimes people who work in it have some other kind of work to do like students or mothers, that doesn't allow them to quickly improve their financial situation. Do you live in a world, where none of that exists?

I'm assuming this is in response of another post, so apologies, if I am missing some context, but I will still aim to answer your post/question.

"You seriously think someone will intentionally choose a job with the least wage?"

Yes, but not for the wage, they are choosing it for the other characteristics of minimum wage jobs: flexible scheduling, part-time hours, low or minimal qualifications, culture, development of skills/networking, and/or available in most areas. People commonly choose lesser paying jobs over higher-paying jobs for a plethora of reasons, at all income levels.

"...And that kind of jobs commonly require a lot of energy and physical effort..."

Relative to what? If you are comparing them to office jobs, then sure, but most minimum wage jobs aren't nearly as physically exhausting as you are trying to portray them.

"...in it have some other kind of work to do like students or mothers, that doesn't allow them to quickly improve their financial situation..."

First off, being a student is literally the worst example of someone being unable to quickly improve their financial situation. FYI, you don't need to graduate to be able to move away from minimum wage.

Second off, as much as being a parent is an appeal of emotions, that doesn't change the fact that outside obligations exist for everyone and hold no influence to the value of one's labor, except when improving one's qualifications.

The same way an accountant can't charge more for being a father, a cashier shouldn't expect more either.

"Do you live in a world, where none of that exists?"

I live in the same world as you. The difference though is that I try to look at the world critically and try to avoid letting myself being misled with blatant exaggeration and irrelevant appeals of emotion.

Many minimum wage jobs are tiring and physically taxing, but they are not as inhumane or physically draining as you claim.

The knowledge and skill barrier for escaping minimum wage is absurdly low. Life is a journey, it is okay to progress incrementally. People are too busy focused on the final destination without considering all the potential stops they can take along the way.

To be clear, I'm not saying we can't aim for a better world or better society, I am just saying we need to direct our efforts appropriately. In this case, it isn't just employers being greedy and selfish, it is society as a whole. Most consumers consider price to be the leading indicator for making their purchase decisions and changing minimum wage laws isn't going to change that belief.

PS: Not that it should matter, but I was a full-time dishwasher at a large buffet for the first two years of college (also as a full-time student). I then went on to work 60-80 hours per week for the first 2-3 years after graduation (70-90 if you count travel time). In both cases, I never stopped upskilling myself outside of work. I'm not saying it's easy, but it is not nearly as "bad" as you are trying to portray. Additionally, it has nothing to do with "I did it, so they should have to as well" and more to do with "It was my choice, therefore my responsibility."

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

INB4: "What about Jane Doe who has twelve chronic illnesses, three physical disabilities, four kids, and their husband recently got hit by a bus?"

I'm referring to the common scenario that describes 99% of people, not the 1% edge case scenario. For those 1% edge case scenarios, I'm more than happy to discuss alternative solutions, but that should define the exception, not the rule itself.

[sgiandubh]

People have opinions about kids, etc great state opinions, but when they post as absolute facts is the problem accompanied by fake voices on videos and blurred pix, that's a problem. Making up lies as facts are the problem. Denigrating Cait and or Sam or worse their families members because you have no real proof is wrong and goes beyond having a peaceful opinion.

Dear Opinion Anon,

First, our traditional spelling bee, because you people still did not learn how to write properly, ok?

People have opinions about kids, etc. great Great: state opinions, but when they post as absolute facts is the problem, accompanied by fake voices on videos and blurred pix, that's a problem. Making up lies as facts are is the problem. Denigrating Cait and/or Sam, or worse, their families' members, because you have no real proof, is wrong and goes beyond having a peaceful opinion.

Look at you, little fascist who knows nothing about the subject-verb agreement in English grammar! Being told what is right and what is wrong by someone clearly unable to properly read and write does not help, pumpkins. Send in your green berets, next time, please: this is way past boring!

I always said I shall speak only for myself on this page. So I am asking you:

Where did you see that particular video on this blog?

Where did you see those funeral pics on this blog? Let alone I explained why I never posted them and you bunch of coward liars all cackled. At length.

Where did I insult Sam's family members on this blog?

Where did I insult Cait's family members on this blog?

When and where did I stalk Sam, Cait or their entourage, unlike one of your queens?

And the question summing them all up:

Do you have a problem with freedom of speech in general?

People post whatever they want to post. They do not need me or you or Moo or *urv or Marple to tell them what to think or post. It is their constitutional right. This is not North Korea: this is an immaterial, almost completely deregulated space, where the demand for information meets the available offer via clicks, shares and comments. Other information is traded in DMs, Telegram groups and other outlets.

Have I made myself clear?

I'll tell you what. You are at once very nervous, curious and afraid of the whole bunch of things we collectively know. You still cannot understand how and why we are still here. You are perplexed by the number of intelligent professionals that are actively debunking all the shite you post regularly. You are upset by the fact real, strong friendships exist in here: something perhaps unheard of in your halls of gloom. And we elicit this reaction only based upon roughly 10 to 15% of the whole content in our, again collective, possession. If you knew all we know, your brain couldn't take it, duckie.

And then I know something else:

No shipper, ever, phoned an employer of an Anti to explain their employee was on Tumblr instead of doing their job.

No shipper, ever, phoned resorts, hotels or airline offices around the world in an attempt to find out where S, C, their progeny or other side players were, at a given moment in time.

No shipper, ever, used their own contacts' network to send false messages about the other side of the fandom war to the two leads, STARZ or the OL production team.

No shipper, ever, sent heinous comments on Anti blogs.

No shipper, ever, harassed Twitter and Instagram posters with endless questions about the time, place and people present at a randomly given event.

No shipper, ever, mounted via sock accounts a whole denigration and calumny campaign on Twitter when one of the leads was involved in a PR blunder.

No shipper, ever, used sexually loaded vocabulary to express 'appreciation' for the actors' work.

No shipper, ever, went on Wikipedia to repeatedly edit the male lead's dedicated page in order to include false sexual orientation reference, which then was screencapped and used as 'evidence' in subsequent flaming wars.

And many more...

You know, people have criticized me for even answering you. But answer you I shall, every time I shall think a reminder is necessary. I think shippers have turned the other cheek for way longer than they should have: a strategic choice that gave you both space and confidence. That you all went in a frenzy just before Christmas tells me perhaps more than you'd think about the kind of people you really are.

I am done with you. Don't bother coming back - you will be immediately blocked: you, your terrible grammar and your impertinence.

[teruthecreator]

(tw for racism, pedophilia, transphobia, child impregnation mention)

yeah idk why y'all read this

i was originally going to just post this and have some tags with my reasonings, but i realized that opens me up to too much bullshit from people who may think i'm being unnecessarily mean or whatever. so i'm going to explain exactly why the screenshots above are something i hold issue with.

firstly, and i just want to get this out of the way, this post is not intended to be a hit piece against the creator. i've seen how she reacts to any mild-mannered or slightly joking criticism, so i know this post is probably going to not land well. but it isn't my intention to make her mad or anything--she's writing a piece of content for the internet, which means she is just as open to criticism as any other poster. and what i intend to go into in this post is criticism. i'm allowed to do this, as that is the nature of the internet. people are allowed to critique whatever they please, and if you don't want critique then you shouldn't post. simple as!

i am also making no attempts to posit myself as better than the creator. i'm not doing this for clout or moral superiority or any of that dumb shit. i simply want to discuss something that's been bothering me for a bit, while simultaneously warning people who haven't read this yet (who may be sensitive to the issues above) to steer clear. if things like casual racism or transphobia aren't properly tagged, then readers who are affected by such things run a risk reading this! same goes with people who are triggered by lewd content involving minors. i wanna make sure people are getting a more critical scope of this work than what has been hoisted up by others.

okay, now that i've gotten that out of the way, i'm going to get into my points.

firstly, the subtle and not-so-subtle racism throughout this fic, especially in relation to serizawa. i'm white, so there is only so much i can speak on without trampling over the words of other fans of color, but some of this feels so blatant it's odd it hasn't been noted earlier. it's important to note before i go into it that serizawa is specifically written as half-black half-japanese for this fic, in case the screenshots don't make it abundantly clear. but there are just too many moments of casual racism in this fic. i'm not talking about the plot point of serizawa being bullied as a kid for being mixed; i'm not mixed, so i can't speak on the accuracy there but it is well-known that black people face a lot of racism in japan. i'm talking about how it seems everyone else has these racist moments that aren't acknowledged by serizawa or the narration as being bad.

reigen hypothesizing over serizawa's exact ethnic background is just strange. yes he's a fairly observant guy (he has to be, with his job), but there is no canonical evidence to suggest he would immediately jump to theorizing whether serizawa is american or not. and the way it's posed in that first quote--"he has darker skin and the kind of hair texture that would likely indicate African ancestry"--is not great. that's an extremely inappropriate way to bring up someone's race. i don't think most people would stare at someone and be like "hmmm well your nose shape and hair texture would suggest you're of this race". it's racial essentialization that is only slightly covered up by the excuse of "oh he tweets in english". there are some other smaller moments of questionable wording, like calling serizawa's afro "sloppy" when it isnt (which btw there's another issue with the creator only referring to an afro as a "fro". it's a hairstyle; you're allowed to use the actual name of it). even if reigen cuts his hair in canon, he never states it's because serizawa's afro looks sloppy. (also there's something to be said about the casual racism baked into making your employee cut his natural hairstyle for a job, as that is a very real issue many black people face when wearing their natural hair or even protective styles in the workplace.)

i'm especially bothered by toichiro's very casual racist remarks. toichiro in this fic is a general bother of mine (most of which can be boiled down to "he would not fucking say that"), but the way she chooses to characterize him in relation to serizawa feels gross. calling a black man a slave should be a very obvious red flag, but also saying serizawa (again, as a black man) has a "brutal masculine appeal" is also extremely stereotypical and racist. and really there is just no need for it; toichiro's actions in canon prove how shitty of a guy he is without the need for him to be racist (along with other things i'll get to in a bit). as my girlfriend put it: he doesn't need to be a member of the fucking kkk to show he's a bad guy.

there's also, again, the very casual racist remark of calling serizawa a "dog". i don't care if that isn't the intent; when you are writing a character of color you need to be aware of your wording, even in insults (unless she intended to make tsuchiya racist, which i don't think she did).

secondly, the eugenics/child pregnancy bit. it is surreal to even have to write this, but i seriously do not understand the purpose of either of these bits in the story. they are so minor yet so jarring you can't help but wonder why they're there. once again, i do not think you need to have toichiro doing esper eugenics just to prove he is an evil guy. he has nuance, and by making him casually reference child pregnancy (like that isn't an INSANE thing to say) reduces that nuance to nothing. that's the only reason i could see why that bit was included: to make toichiro look worse. but, even still, the author is running the risk of potentially triggering victims of csa or people who don't want to see that by not properly tagging the mention of it (or, at the very least, warning readers in the intro notes). the only other explanation for it would maybe be shock factor??? but that's a pretty shitty thing to use for shock factor, if i'm honest. also the fact that the esper eugenics was referenced again in a more recent chapter just has me very disturbed and confused. there isn't a canonical explanation for why we see less espers who are women than espers who are men, but that doesn't mean we need to jump to fucking Eugenics. it's weird!

thirdly (and this is probably one of my biggest problems and the main reason i wanted to make this post), the weirdly lewd/sexual language shou uses constantly, along with referring to reigen as a pedo or a creep at several points. frankly, i think it's pretty fucking gross for someone in their near-40's to be writing a 12-year-old talking so casually about sex like that's normal. which, i'm sorry, but it's not. yes, teens know about sex and like to joke about lewd shit. but a 12-year-old is not about to make references to a grown man's virginity. 12-year-olds draw dicks on their desk bc they think it's funny. 12-year-olds say the word "buttfuck" because it has the words "butt" and "fuck" in it, and those are the two funniest words on earth to a kid that age. i literally do not understand the purpose of having shou be so lewd all the time. for one, it doesn't make sense for his character. shou is shown time and time again to be extremely mature for his age, but that maturity extends to shit like assembling a counter-terrorism unit and extending a hand to his father to allow him to try again. and even then he's still just as naive as any other kid his age! the omake where he's telling his guys to go to the "far right corner" based on ritsu’s advice proves that he still has plenty of blindspots that are indicative of his age. leaning into this raunchy, lewd version of shou is just weird. and, again, i think it is made a bit weirder given the author's age!!! not ageshaming or whatever--i'm 23 and i write fanfic, clearly i cannot judge there--but it is just extremely inappropriate in my opinion. also having shou be more versed in sextalk than serizawa is odd too and speaks to a larger issue of serizawa's infantilzation throughout this fic, but that's something i can get into in another post if people want an explanation.

also, the way she constantly calls reigen a creep and even has him being accused of being a pedophile during the twitter cancellation is extremely inappropriate when, again, there is NO CANONICAL BASIS FOR THIS! everyone just calls him a fraud and a scammer during separation arc; there is never a reference to reigen being seen as a pedophile in that arc. and, yes, while there are versions of mob psycho where reigen is very clearly written as a creep (looking very specifically at the netflix adaptation), that doesn't mean it's good. honestly, the creep mentions all just feel like really poor jokes that do not land in the slightest.

finally, the transphobia (aka WHY IS SHIMAZAKI A CHASER). i literally do not know what else to say other than: why? why is this a thing? why is he a chaser? what is the purpose of this? is it a joke? i feel like it's supposed to be, but seeing as the author is cis i don't think that's a joke she should really be making. it not only comes out of left field, but it's just kind of a weird thing to ascribe to a character for no reason. not to mention, it's uncomfortable! trans women deal with enough creepy antics from cis men in real life--why must they be accosted by this guy too? it's just weird and uncomfortable.

i wanna round out this post by saying, once again, that i'm not trying to attack anyone with this post. but i do hope people come away from this with a new perspective on this work, and maybe think twice before recommending it uncritically to someone. to the author specifically, i hope you can read my post without rage or indignance blinding you. i might be a little blunt or rude in parts, but it's only because i'm passionate and i don't mince my words when it comes to things i'm passionate about. to the readers, understand i am not judging you for reading this fic without noticing these things. your own life experiences will give you certain blindspots and there's nothing wrong with that. i have plenty of blindspots of my own! it's what makes us human.

there is more i could say, but this post is long enough. i ask that if you come to me in my inbox or in dms about this that you treat me with respect, as i will do that for you. writing something like this took a lot out of me, as i'm usually not so open about my opinion on shit like this.

have a good day :-)

[jotun-design-party]

on fandom orientalism, ft. a quick visual example:

the example on the right is something i drew solely using references of the top results i saw on pinterest upon searching "jotun loki." please don’t roast my inconsistent handwriting

south asian cultures are often jumbled together for white artists of all kinds (authors, artists, movie directors) to create a sense of mystery and make things look "more foreign."

note: this doesn't touch on the antiblack racism in canon jötun designs; this post is primarily about fandom-sourced fetishization. i heavily encourage people to reblog and add onto this post anything i may have missed or added nuance

cut: links on orientalism, in-media examples, how this manifests in fandom-made content

i'd like to start off by saying that this post is a white person telling other white people how to spot orientalism in relation to fiction. i am by no means an expert on any of this, but my goal here is to start creating a less ignorant space that doesn't push people out of fandom.

i'm just trying to stir up more conversations about this and get other white people to think more critically about how they engage with the content they consume. nerd shit should never come with a sacrifice and it's extremely upsetting to see people of color consistently forced out of fandom communities, especially when modern superhero comics began as a way for jewish people to have a voice.

if this post upsets you, i don't want to hear it. don't tell me, "it's not that deep," or, "keep politics out of comics." it is that deep, and superhero comics have always been political. if you have the urge to leave a comment or send an anon about how you don't think it's a big deal, feel free to block me instead, because i don't care and you'll just get blocked anyway 👍

with that out of the way,

Q:

A:

there are countless ways to design a character in a way that makes it clear that they are an alien, or to make them sexy, and there is no excuse to perpetuate stereotype that put real-life people in danger to do so.

"Orientalist paintings and other forms of material culture... depict an 'exotic' and therefore racialized, feminized, and often sexualized culture from a distant land." [¹]

there are so many examples of this in loki fic and art. it's extremely common to see loki depicted as a feminine object of desire. they may have longer hair. clothing that serves more as an accessory than an outfit, that isn't suited to protect them from either the harsh cold of jötunheim or the sunburns one might get when surrounded by reflections of the sun off the snow. draped in jewelry, and in a compromising position.

i'm sure you can imagine how this can get especially out of hand in relation to thorki. i would speak more on thor's presence as both the white aesir prince or the strong barbaric jötun, but as i'm not comfortable consuming thorki content, i don't have enough context to speak on the stereotypes used outside of the art pieces i've seen while searching for jötun loki fanart.

i am, however, confident in saying that orientalism often serves as a device for fan creators to show a contrast between Asgard's white-viking-british-accent-magic-science-elegance. jötunheim, in the comics, is often portrayed as a less intelligent, cutthroat, barbaric, and bloodthirsty culture.

"There was always something unknown and uniquely different about Orients which reinforced the distinction between the European 'us' and Asian 'them.'" [²]

the green link in particular comes with a helpful tool for anyone who might be inexperienced in spotting racist themes in media. if you have trouble being confident that the media in question is orientalism, this link comes with a checklist scale to score how likely it is to be an offensive depiction.

an example that most of you will be familiar with is Disney's Aladdin (1992). the green link goes much more in-depth about the intricacies of Aladdin's orientalism, and i heavily HEAVILY encourage you to read it, as it will help fully grasp the way fetishization and demonization go hand in hand in orientalism.

here, i'd also like to use it as a comparison to show why this loki stuff is honestly... egregious.

by now, even the visuals here should seem very familiar.

the source goes on to use arranged marriage as an example of a common "trope" in orientalist fiction. as previously stated, i don't consume thorki fiction. however, i am EXTREMELY confident in making the guess that it tends to be a common theme when jötun loki is paired with an aesir thor.

i'd also heavily recommended this article and this wikipedia page, both on the negative and stereotypical portrayals of romani people; loki is a magic user, and i suspect that one of the reasons there is such heavy use of these appropriated, exaggerated, and fetishized themes and visuals is because of the demonization of romani people as tricksters, thieves, and witches.

[grievedifferent]

the note to hannah initiating the prank ... what version am i relying on since i take so much context from the remake while relying on the original release (as well as the protoype)? read more for length: keep in mind, this is all game discussion and not really headcanon material.

i have to be clear about two things here: one, most of the discourse i'm referring to is either from reddit threads i've seen or what i initially encountered before the remake came out in the 2015-2017 circa of writing in the until dawn fandom (me as josh and matt, otter as ash and hannah, she wasn't writing chris then at the time on the dash). this is not at all coming for anyone here, if anything is just a post of me defending hannah because i think she's incredibly misunderstood, then just left to the wolves to be "the monster" ... when, in reality, her story is very tragic. she's not a monster. she's a victim. i just don't want it to be taken that this post is about anyone at all here because it's not, no current interpretations were even considered aside from my own and otter's when writing this, and this is more towards the non-rpc fandom side of until dawn and how i see their views of this cast versus the rpc comm (bc in rpc you tend to go into the details, looking for things that people typically are not). again, no shade to anyone, this is mostly a me coming to hannah's defense post if anything.

okay, okay, so what version then?

the original. here's why: it makes literally no sense for hannah to just take off her shirt with no initiation. she's very shy, very reserved, and even her crush on mike (while obvious) is meant to be "hidden in heart" (the way you see his photo hidden under the invite from him in her room, etc). without being told or suggested, i doubt she'd just "go in for the kill" in that way. meeting mike at all was a huge deal for her, she's clearly very anxious and excited about it. without it being fed to her, i don't think she'd have just done that on her own. kissing him? i can definitely see that.

the original note reads: "hannah, you look so damn hot in that shirt ... but i bet you're even hotter out of it. come to the guest room at 2:00am" signed mike xxx

while the new note says: "han, it's been so fun hanging out with you ... no on gets me like you do. come find me later. i'll be waiting" signed mike notably without the xxx.

again, going based off my post here, this is to soften things up, plain and simple. it's another detail they tweaked a bit to make it "seem less mean" but ultimately, the prank is mean. it was meant to humiliate hannah. i've seen arguments that hannah deserves the prank because she was "coming on to mike" or "making moves on him" but let's be real:

a) mike says flat out to emily that he is no one's man. his profile says he loves women and hates commitment. b) hannah is no threat to emily save for her status as an elite. hannah might be like one inch taller than emily ... but emily would eat hannah alive for breakfast. seriously. c) i don't think hannah was aggressively coming on to mike. she probably acted shy and reserved, wanted to be around him, and cared about his opinion.

again, her crush is like hidden in her room that you (as sam only) have to seek out (and then kind of criticize her for tbh, i get it's not open criticism but the reactions of like "oh, hannah" like it's cringe that she liked mike when that's a well-known group fact? also she didn't have time to clean up, sorry, and josh wanted those details to be seen, so. it's just kind of mean commentary imo. always has come off that way to me.).

another reason i think that hannah's crush was more "sussed out" by emily and jess (primarily jess, i would assume) is now because of this new context:

they were in her room, able to find the same clues sam can later on. it's not that far of a reach. hannah was never openly pursuing mike, she was crushing hard on him.

also interesting that they take hannah out of the shirt they had her in the original to make her get back into it to give it that same scene feel from the original, but make her act more sexually suggestive when the prompting originally came from her wearing that shirt thus suggesting she take it off via the note. kind of wild to me, idk.

and what drives me a little crazy?? jess also likes mike. like literally at the same time hannah does? and emily is actually her best friend, hannah is likely not that close to emily, so ... why is that okay? jess swooped in immediately after their breakup, which also could have been mike "swooping in" to her (but she didn't deny him, she accepted his advances were that the case). it's not even confirmed why mike and em split, just kind of implied heavily that mike likely broke it off with em (i assume bc of him liking jess, the contrast is that mike actually likes jess whereas emily does not actually like matt in that way), so jess might even be the reason. she could have also swooped in even before the breakup was official. we do not know for sure. we just know that this is okay for jess ... but not for hannah. because hannah should know better. make that make sense to me.

why is hannah held more culpable for her being victimized than the people that victimized her? and this is coming from me, someone who loves this whole cast, writes josh who terrorizes this cast, and also matt who filmed hannah (and i hold him responsible for that).

and as for jess? that would make sense for emily's standing with her. so, my question here ... why does hannah not get the same pass? i've also seen the argument that "well, the gang is young, they didn't mean it, mistakes of youth, valor of youth, etc etc", but this same argument is not given to hannah who is younger than them. she might be the "oldest twin", but she's one of the youngest people of the group, yet she gets held to a very concerning degree as she deserved to die basically. a lot of this discourse i've seen mostly in reddit and like the old rpc, so not here (to make that clear), but after years of seeing hannah's character basically be so forgotten, misunderstood, and even villainized? it's hard to swallow writing her big brother, being that she and beth are like josh's motivations for everything.

ending this post saying i unironically love this whole cast, i don't dislike emily or jessica or sam, i love them all. i actively play to keep them alive usually unless i'm doing bad runs or trophy runs on purpose to get more dialogue or context or story, but generally? i play the game as good as i can for all of them, try to keep them all alive, and my default post verse has them all live, so clearly i'm not here to take shots at the cast, but like, show the same love to hannah? the same devotion? and accept that this game is the folly of youth. they're literally all names stemmed from religious sources thus indicating they are god's children trapped on the mountain being punished for messing with forces beyond their control that them and everyone else along the way that's encountered this damn mountain has been warned about time and time again. listen to the mountain.

also, for just even more added context: hannah was always the victim. her character might have changed from being the "victim girlfriend of clayton (the josh figure) who had everyone wrapped around her finger, circa 2008-2010" to "the seemingly popular and at least confident twin of beth that gets pranked for liking mike, circa 2011-2013" to the hannah we get in the 2015/2024 release, but she was always the victim, be it to a supernatural entity or just a human killer. actually, they made her more sympathetic to really hit home hannah is the victim, beth is basically also the victim through association of doing the right thing and going after hannah. <- because about that? very cruel to just go back inside and let beth go find hannah in a clear snowstorm when it's dark and cold, and numbers are more useful to find someone in this situation, as well as safer. i do not care that "beth knows the mountain" (i assume sam's reasoning to telling them to go back inside), but i mean, give it to mike at least for suggesting they go after hannah and beth. it might have made hannah mad, but it might have also saved her life. he did the in the original, he did it in the remake, props to him. i get being young and irrational, but even mike thought that it was a good idea to go after them, and then we see him literally do this for jessica, meaning mike is always the guy you want going after you to save your life. he will act if allowed or if required.

also, just imagine the sheer terror of josh waking up to his sister's being missing, having to get the police, likely having gone out himself to look a bit and finding nothing, and also having to tell his parents? not fun.

and you know what? i'll end this post by saying one last thing: good for hannah to become basically the queen of the creatures. she might not have been popular in life, i guess arguably she was well-loved (if we take the prototype into consideration of beth being the perfect one and hannah being the everyone loved her one (ouch)), but she was literally the biggest and strongest creature on the mountain, and good for her.

QUICK EDIT: the tattoo. yes, she got a tattoo because of mike (for mike, however you want to word it), but she didn't get a tattoo because mike told her to. he never was like "get a tattoo and i'll like you more" to his credit, and also just to give hannah some more stability here. like, she got it because it was one of maybe three suggestions to "get noticed by the guy you like" by being more bold. she went with a tattoo, which is obviously for us to have josh recognize later as hannah because otherwise, how would we know the creature is hannah, right? we as players have much more context to this than josh, so he specifically needs that tattoo to recognize hannah. otherwise, he'd be dead every single time with no option to live lol. like, otherwise it seems like without that nudge, hannah wouldn't have gotten a tattoo at all, even spurring beth to try and get one to match her before their deaths. so, i think she took the tattoo as a way to "be reborn" with a more confident personality, she might have gotten it because of the magazine, but it definitely helped her confidence.

ANOTHER EDIT: based on this unused dialogue between chris and ash, it's not hard to see that everything i've talked about above, including mike being not committed to emily (which is what he himself says), and how hannah was likely led on by mike without the prank. i am going to reassert here that i do not think emily and hannah were "besties" by any means. why is it okay for jess to like emily's man but not hannah?

[a-french-coconut]

Snippet #5

He knows where to find Will after the battle. Everyone knows but they stay clear of the infirmary, even the hurt ones. 

They all saw Lee’s body being carried in the makeshift tent, all heard Will’s screams when he saw his brother’s head caved in, bits of brain and bones where the son of Apollo’s face used to be.  Travis knows those screams, the pain scraping your throat, the grief tearing you apart and wetting your eyes. 

He’s familiar with it, because in alley behind a bakery shop, he was the one yelling. And so, while Katie holds her bloodied arm but doesn’t dare disturb Will, while Sherman winces at every step but stubbornly wrap his twisted ankle alone, Travis enters the tent. 

It’s not that big, just enough for eight or ten people to be in, and some of the space is occupied by six draped bodies. All the critical cases and severely injured have been moved to the infirmary’s building, where there is more space and resources. Michael and Chiara must there, tending to them. 

“Will.” He calls softly to his boyfriend, whose seated on the ground, looking with red eyes at the golden cloth. “You shouldn’t stay here.” But Will doesn’t move, doesn’t make any indication he heard him and so, he joined him on the ground. 

Six people dead. Lee, Castor, Timothy, Arianna, Lisa and Nick. Six people to hold a funeral, two of them only thirteen years old. 

None, by a miracle, are from his cabin. 

His eyes linger on the purple shroud. He’ll need to look after Pollux too.

“It hurts.” Will says with hoarse voice, sniffling. He looks exhausted, hands caked by blood and dirt, eye bags, face red after crying too much. And he still won’t stop looking at Lee’s body. “It hurts.” 

“Sunny, look at me.” He gently turn Will’s face towards him. Those blue eyes, usually so bright, are dimmed, filled with sorrow. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” 

“How ?” His boyfriend replies, gesturing at the dead bodies. “How can this become okay ? I lost my brother, Travis, it can’t be okay.” 

“With time, the pain will soothe.” He cups Will’s face, who has started crying again, softly wiping away the tears. “It will always be there, but life goes on Will, life goes on.” 

“I- I failed everyone Travis.” Will snivels and Travis hugs entirely, resting his head on the crook on his neck. “I couldn’t save them.” He knows he’s referring to the five other bodies in the room. “They were so afraid Travis, they didn’t want to die.” Will grips him harder, his hands tightening on his back. “And I failed them.” 

“No, Will, no it’s not true.” He whispers in his ear, rubbing gently his back. “You did you best, and nobody, nobody, will blame you because you did nothing wrong. And if some idiot think about it, I’m going to prank them and destroy them at sword fighting.” He reconsiders. “Okay, maybe not sword fighting, I’m average, but I’m super good at wrestling.” 

“You’re too scrawny to be good at wrestling.” Will says, his voice muffled by the t-shirt he’s wearing. With satisfaction, Travis notices he isn’t crying anymore. 

“I am not scrawny Will, and my dad invented wrestling. I’m good at it.” 

Will snorts and he internally whoops. 

“I’m going to miss him so much, Travis.” Will whispers, pulling away a little so he can look again at Lee. “You’re so lucky you didn’t lose any siblings yet. Well, they are the ones that left to be with Luke but they’re not dead, you know ? I hope you never experience this.” 

He smiles sadly, the memory of a boy jumping from one white strip to the other as they cross the street playing in his mind. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.” 

“Remember when we met for the first time ?” He asks Will, who instantly remembers. “You just arrived at Cabin 11 and I told you that you were lying about being an only child.” 

“Yeah, and even though the others interpreted as other thing, you were right. I was lying.” 

“You came at Camp alone, though.” Will says carefully. “Is it a mortal sibling ?” 

Travis shakes his head. “No, he was my younger brother by one year, and I’m pretty sure he was a son of Hermes too.” He feels Will tenses at his words. “He died before I came to Camp.” 

Oh Hermes, he can feel his own tears coming up. It’s been years since he talked about Connor to someone. Since he arrived at Camp actually. The only person that knows of him is the satyr that brought him, but David died trying to bring another demigod, that didn’t make it either. No one knows, and he intended to keep it that way. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” Will offers but he refuses. “No, I want to.” 

“We were living on the streets, doing pretty good.” He specifies when he sees Will’s horrified face. He tells him about Laura, about what they used to do to keep themselves entertained, about the cyclops. “I think he found us because of the Apple Watch Connor stole that day. We didn’t know about demigods and electronic stuff.” 

“He sounds amazing.” Will says gently, stroking his hand with his thumb. 

“He was.” Travis replies. It feels strangely good to talk about him. “He would have loved Camp.” 

Connor would have thrived here.        

“Do you think I failed him ?” He asks Will, turning his gaze at him. “That he’s angry with me for not saving him ? It would be funny actually, to have his ghost following me around, screaming at me.” He snickers slightly but his happy mood doesn’t last. “Instead, he’s probably wandering in Asphodel, forgetting his name, forgetting me.” It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “We were supposed to live together, always but the Fates are cruel, aren’t they ?” 

“Yes, they are.” Will answers. “Connor wouldn’t be angry at you. I think he would want for you to live your life, at the fullest.” 

Travis ponders for a moment. 

“I want to see the world with you.” Connor said, looking at him with gleaming, joyful eyes. “We’ll go everywhere !” 

“Did you know that we can’t see the stars because of pollution ?” Connor had informed one night, as they decided to sleep on the roof a building. “One day, we’ll leave the city and go somewhere where we can see all the stars.” 

“There’s so many foods !” Connor marveled at every restaurant they passed in front of, Thai, Chinese, Italian, French, Spanish. “We’ll taste them all !” 

“Yeah.” Travis replies, misty eyed. “He would want that.” 

Short resume of this : here you angst, then over there a little more ansgt and if you look more closely, you'll see even more angst !