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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

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More ask answer about Word of Honour (山河令, WoH) and the so-called “Dangai 101 phenomenon” under the cut ~ with all the M/M relationships shown on screen, does it mean improved acceptance / safety for the c-queer community?

Due to its length (sorry!), I’ve divided the answer into 3 parts: 1) Background 2) Excerpts from the op-eds 3) Thoughts This post is PART 1 ❤️. As usual, please consider the opinions expressed as your local friendly fandomer sharing what they’ve learned, and should, in no ways, be viewed as necessarily true. :)

(TW: homophobic, hateful speech quoted)

After WoH had started airing, I had waited for one of China’s state-controlled media to publish opinion pieces about the show. Specifically, I’d like to know ~ what is the administration’s current take on Dangai (耽改), as a genre? How does it characterise the closeness of the same-sex leads—the closeness that is suppressed when the original IP, of the genre Danmei (耽美) was converted for visual media presentation?

This is important, as China is a country where the government’s attitude becomes the official public attitude. The state opinion pieces will be quoted and parroted, especially if they come from heavy-weight sources (state-controlled media also have their importance/influence hierarchy). Production of the upcoming Dangai dramas will adjust their scripts accordingly. Marketing tactics will also adjust, make sure it doesn’t spread “the wrong message”; Dangai and Danmei dramas have both been pulled off shelves during or immediately after its airing before (Addicted 上癮 and Guardian 鎮魂, respectively), despite having already passing the censorship board.

If a heavy-weight state opinion piece pans the one-lead-fawning-over-the-other scenes in WoH (there are a few of them), for example, scenes / lines of such suggestive nature will likely disappear from the upcoming Dangai dramas for at least a year or two. If the critique spills over to a harsh stance against the presence of queers in Chinese media, all future Dangai dramas can become strict “socialist-brotherhood” stories, their “no homo” message reinforced by, for example, by inserting a female lead (or changing one of the leads to female).

Whether the official public opinion equates the true public opinion or not, public behaviour in China is quickly driven by the official public opinion. Example: the Xi regime’s conservative stance on queer issues has already translated to a quick deterioration of queer tolerance in China; open expressions that were tolerated, even welcomed, just several years ago are now met with significant hostility in the public.

This is a reflection of the nature of their government. A quick thought experiment may explain this. Take … jaywalking. It’s probably fair to say we’ve all committed this “crime” before?

Will you still jaywalk if your government declares it immoral to do so? Where I am, in the United States, the answer is definitely a no. The public will probably laugh at (and make memes about) the poor official who made the declaration, kindly ask the government to do something useful for once (f*** off), and keep jaywalking.

Now, what if the declaration comes with a law that includes a one-year prison term + lifelong criminal record for jaywalking? Let’s say this law is fully executable and irreversible, given this being a thought experiment—nothing you, or the public, can say or do can contest it.

Will you still jaywalk, even if you disagree with government’s stance that the act is immoral? You’ve got a neighbour who continues to defy the law. Will you think twice before letting your young loved ones go out with them?

Very soon, jaywalking becomes “bad”—even though such “badness” had little moral basis at its origin. It is bad because the government has “characterised” it to be so—an authoritarian government that doesn’t allow challenge of the characterisation.

The retention of queer elements in Dangai is the jaywalking in the example. The Chinese government stepping in to characterise (定性) an event, a phenomenon etc is common, and the people know the drill well that they fall in line quickly.

If a powerful state-controlled media publish a negative opinion piece on the queer elements in Dangai / Danmei, therefore, those elements can disappear overnight.

My question had been: will the state do it? The Xi regime has made its distaste for LGBT+ representation in visual media abundantly clear with its NRTA directives. However, while the Chinese government typically puts ideology (意識型態) as its Guiding Principle, exceptions have always been made for one reason. One word.

Money.

TU is a legendary financial success story every production company (Tencent itself included) wants to replicate. As a result, there are ~ 60 Danmei IPs (book canon) with their copyright sold for Dangai dramas; this long line of Danmei dramas in the horizon has been nicknamed “Dangai 101”, after the name of the show “Produce 101” Dd was dance instructor in. These dramas are all competing to be the next TU by profit.

Adoration from fans is nice, but money is what matters.

C-ent is currently in a financial bleak winter. The anti-corruption, anti-tax-fraud campaign started by the Xi regime in 2018, which cumulated to a sudden (and unofficial) collection of 3 years of back-taxes from studios and stars, has drained a significant amount of its capital; the number of new TV dramas being filmed fell 45% between 2018 and 2019, and production companies have been closing by the tens of thousands. The tightening of censorship rules also means production is associated with more risk. The commercial sector outside c-ent is also eager for replications of TU’s success—they need more “top traffic” (頂流) idols like Gg and Dd whose fans are sufficiently devoted to drive the sales of their products. Such “fan economy” would benefit the government, even if it doesn’t have direct stakes in the companies in and outside c-ent. People’s Daily, the Official State Newspaper, previously published a positive opinion piece on fan economy in 2019, estimating its worth at 90 billion RMB (~13.7 billion USD) per year.

But if the state allows the queer elements in Dangai’s to pass the censorship board (NRTA) for profit, how can it do so with the current “No homo” directive in place? From previous experience (scarce as it may be), the queerness has to be sufficiently obvious for the shows to make the profit everyone is wishing for. Dangai dramas in which the leads’ romantic relationship remains subtle have not sold the way TU does, even if they are well-reviewed and feature famous, skilled actors (as Winter Begonia 鬓边不是海棠红 last year.)

NRTA, and the government behind it, can’t just say I’m turning a blind eye to the flirting and touching for the money. What can it say then?

Here’s what I’d thought—what it can say, or do, is to “characterise” these Dangai dramas in a way that leave out its queerness. It did so for TU. TU’s review by the overseas version of People’s Daily devoted a grand total of two characters to describe WWX and LWJ’s relationship—摯友 (“close friend”). The rest of the article was devoted to the drama’s aesthetics, its cultural roots. (The title of the article: 《陳情令》：書寫國風之美 Chen Qing Ling: Writing the Beauty of National Customs).

How could it do that? The State’s power ensuring few questioning voices aside, I’ve been also thinking about the history and definition of Danmei (耽美)—Dangai’s parent genre as the causes. Based on the history and definition, I can think of 3 ways the queer elements in Danmei (耽美) can be characterised by the state, 2 of which provide it with the wiggle room, the movable goalposts it needs should it choose to want to overlook the queerness in Dangai.

The 3 characterisations I’ve thought of, based on the history and definition of Danmei (耽美) are:

1) The queer characterisation, which focuses on its homoerotic element. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is gay.

2) The “traditional BL” characterisation, which focuses on BL’s historic origin as a “by women, for women” genre. The M/M setup is viewed as an escapist protest against the patriarchy, a rejection of traditional gender roles; displays of M/M closeness are often “candies” for the female gaze. * Summary of the characterization: Danmei is women’s fantasy.

3) The aesthetic characterisation, which focuses on beauty—from the beauty of the characters, the beauty of a world without harm to the romance. * Summary for the characterization: Danmei is pretty.

The queer characterisation (1) is well-understood, and likely the default characterisation if it is to be made by the fraction of i-fandom I’m familiar with. Most i-fans I’ve met, myself included, would likely and automatically associate the M/M relationships in The Untamed (TU) and WoH with queerness.

The “traditional BL” characterisation (2), meanwhile, equates Danmei with BL as the genre of homoerotic works developed in 1970’s Japan for women comic readers, and has been widely interpreted from a feminist point of view.

Under such interpretation of “traditional BL” works, the double male lead setup wasn’t meant to be an accurate depiction of homosexuality. It wasn’t about homosexuality at all. Rather, it was about the removal of women and along with it, the rage, the eye-rolling, the unease women readers had often felt when attempting to interact with mainstream romance novels of the time, in which the female leads had mostly been confined to traditional women roles, and their virtue, their traditional feminine traits.

The M/M setup therefore acted as a “shell” for a het relationship that allowed removal of such social constraints placed on women. The lead with whom the woman audience identified was no longer bound to the traditional role of women, such as being the caregiver of the family. The lead could instead chase their dreams and roam the world, as many contemporary women already did or aspired to do; they were no longer limited to playing the passive party in life and in the relationship—and they enjoyed such freedom without risking the love, the respect the other male protagonist felt for them.

BL, in this traditional sense, has therefore been interpreted as an answer for, and a protest against the heteropatriarchal gender norm still dominant in societies deeply influenced by Confucianism, including Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, China. The M/M setup is, at heart, (het) women’s fantasy. The inclusion of two young-and-beautiful male leads also satisfy “the female gaze” ~ the popularity of BL among het women has therefore been compared to the popularity of lesbian porn among het men. In both cases, the audience is drawn not for the homosexual element but by the presence of double doses of sexual attraction.

(Please forgive me if any of my wording comes as disrespectful! I’m not used to talking about these topics.)

The availability of the “traditional BL” characterisation (2) is key to bypassing queerness as a topic in the discussions of Danmei (耽美).

The aesthetic characterisation (3) is very closely related to 2) in origin, but deserves its own point as a characterisation that can stand on its own, and may be more obscure to the English-speaking fandom given the common English translation of Danmei (耽美) as Boy’s Love.

Boy’s Love, as a name, amplifies the queer characterisation (1) and de-emphasises the aesthetic characterisation (3); Danmei (耽美), meanwhile, does the reverse.

Where does the name Danmei come from?

When BL was first developed in Japan, it used to have a now out-of-fashion genre name: Tanbi. Tanbi was borrowed from same name describing a late 19th century / early 20th century Japanese literary movement, known as Tanbi-ha and was inspired by Aestheticism in England. Aestheticism “centered around the doctrine that art exists for the sake of its beauty alone, and that it need serve no political, didactic, or other purpose”. Along the same line, the core belief of authors of Tanbi-ha was that art should celebrate beauty and reject the portrayal of ugliness in human nature, the darkness of reality:

…Tanbi writers argued that the ideas of naturalism writers such as “objectivism,” “truth is more important than beauty” and so on would “oppress human beings’ desire” so as to “lose beauty and human nature.” Accordingly, they insisted on “acute mental and emotional sensibility” [Ye, 2009].

(Source, with more details on Tanbi.)

Neither romance nor homosexuality were requirements for works in the original Tanbi-ha genre. BL borrowed the name Tanbi because its early authors saw their work created under the same principles: the emphasis on the beauty of their characters, their love (romantic and platonic), in a world that was also beautiful and untouched by ugliness such as sexism and homophobia.

The stubborn persistence on keeping one’s eyes trained on the beautiful, the willingness to turn a blind eye to reality for the sake of the beauty is built-in in the genre’s name. Tanbi meant more than beauty, aesthetics; its kanji form was written as 耽美; 耽 = to sink, drown in, to over-indulge in; 美 = beauty.

Tanbi, therefore, literally means to drown in, to over-indulge in beauty.

Over time, as the genre expanded its writing style, Tanbi eventually fell out of favour as BL’s genre name in Japan. However, as it gained popularity in the Sinosphere in the 1990s, starting with Taiwan and Hong Kong, the kanji of Tanbi was retained as the Chinese name of the genre.

In Mandarin Chinese, 耽美 is pronounced Danmei. A hyperfocus on the aesthetics, the utopian aspects of traditional BL is therefore retained in Danmei by its name. People’s Daily could therefore devote its review of TU on its aesthetics. Realism, including politics and all discussions of social issues, can therefore be swept aside in the name of respecting the genre’s tradition.

I’ve mostly been reading about and observing c-fandom, and I believe these 3 characterisations have all attracted its own kind of fans. Fans who care and talk about queer issues even when it isn’t encouraged by their sociopolitical environment, who shine a light upon these issues in their fan works. Fans who treat the M/M leads as if they were a traditional cishet couple, such as calling one of the leads 老婆 (wife) and assigning him biologically female functions when needed (via, for example, the ABO trope). Fans who insist the works must meet their beauty standards, rejecting those that fail (for example, if the leads are not good looking enough) by claiming they’re there for Danmei, not Danchou (耽醜, “over-indulgence on ugliness”). Fans who are drawn to the genre by a combination of these characterisations.

By the history and definition of the genre, all the above reasons for fanning Danmei are as valid, as legitimate as one another.

I thought about this related question then: are c-fans of the second (traditional BL characterisation) and third (aesthetic characterisation) groups homophobic? When I first asked this question, I—a fan whose fandom experience had been entirely in English-speaking communities—assume the answer was yes. I thought, in particular, the insistence of treating Danmei’s M/M couples as cishet couples in a homosexual shell had to be conscious queer erasure. How can anyone ignore the same-sexness of the leads? How can anyone talk about Danmei without associating it with homosexuality?

However, as I read more—again, specifically about c-fandom, and in Chinese—I realised the answer may be a little more complex.

Previously, I had largely thought about homophobia in terms of individual attitudes. This has to do with my current environment (liberal parts of the United States), in which the choice to accept or reject the queer community has become a close to personal choice. Pride flags fly all over the city, including the city hall, every summer, and most churches welcome the LGBT+ community. I hadn’t considered how an environment in which queers have never enjoyed full social exposure, in which education of related topics is sorely lacking, would affect Danmei’s development as a genre.

In such an environment, it is difficult for Danmei to evolve and incorporate up-to-date understanding of RL queerness.

The consequence I can see is this: Danmei is more likely to be “stuck” in its historical characterisation as (het) women’s fantasy inside than outside the Great Firewall, with its queerness de-emphasised if not erased—and it draws fans who are attracted to this kind of characterisation accordingly. This is, perhaps, reflected by the fact that the (het) women-to-queer ratio of Danmei / BL fans is significantly higher in China than in the West (Table 1 in this article summarises how Danmei / BL fans have split between different genders and sexual orientation in the Sinosphere vs the West in different research studies).

Another driving force I can see for Danmei to retain BL’s traditional feminist and aesthetic characterisations: women in China are not free from the social pressure that led to the birth of BL in 1970’s Japan. While many of them have achieved financial freedom through work and have high education, the young and educated have been subjected to immense pressure to get married and have children especially in the past decade.

In 2007, the China’s state feminist agency, the All-China Women’s Federation (中華全國婦女聯合會), coined the term 剩女 (literally, “leftover women”) for unmarried, urban women over 27 years old. The government started a campaign that, among other things, associated women’s education level with ugliness, and their unmarried status with pickiness, moral degeneracy. The reason behind the campaign: birth rates are plummeting and the state wants educated women, in particular, to nurture a high quality, next generation workforce. More importantly, the government sees a threat in the M/F sex imbalance (high M, low F) that has commonly been attributed to the country’s “one child policy” between 1979-2015, which encouraged female infanticide / abortion of female foetuses in a culture that favours surname-carrying boys. The state fears the unmarried men will become violent and/or gay, leading to “social instability and insecurity”. Therefore, it wants all women, in particular those who are educated, to enter the “wife pool” for these unmarried men. (Source 1, Source 2: Source 2 is a short, recommended read).

For Chinese women, therefore, patriarchy and sexism is far from over. Escapist fantasies where sexism is removed—by removing women from the picture—are therefore here to stay.

Danmei is therefore not queer literature (同志文學). The difference between Danmei and queer literature is highlighted by this reportedly popular saying (and its similar variations) in some Danmei communities:

異性戀只是傳宗接代，同性戀才是真愛 Heterosexuality is only for reproduction. Only homosexuality is true love.

The attitude towards heterosexuality is one of distaste, viewed as a means to an end the speaker has no interest in. On the contrary, homosexuality is idealised, reflecting the disregard / lack of understanding of some Danmei fans have towards the RL hardships of c-queers. The ignorance may be further propagated by gate-keeping by some Danmei fans for safety reasons, keeping queer discussions away from their communities for fear that their favourite hangouts would meet the same uncertain fate of other communities that previously held open queer discussions, such as the Weibo gay and lesbian supertopics. Such gatekeeping can, again, be easily enforced using tradition as argument: the beauty 美 is Tanbi and Danmei (耽美), remember, includes the beauty of utopia, where ugly truths such as discrimination do not enter the picture. A Danmei that explores, for example, the difficulty of coming out of the closet is no longer Danmei, by its historical, aesthetic definition.

[I’ve therefore read about c-queers viewing Danmei with suspicion, if not downright hostility; they believe the genre, by ignoring their RL challenges and casting them as beautiful, even perfect individuals, and in some cases, by fetishising them and their relationships, only leads to more misconceptions about the queer community. Dangai, meanwhile, has been viewed with even more distaste as potential weapons by the state to keep gays in the closet; if the government can shove the Danmei characters into the “socialist brotherhood” closet, it can shove them as well.

I haven’t yet, however, been able to tease out the approximate fraction of c-queers whose views of Danmei and Dangai is negative. The opposing, positive view of the genres is this: they still provide LGBT+ visibility, which is better than none and it would’ve been close to none without Danmei and Dangai; while Danmei may skim over the hardships of being queer, fan works of Danmei are free to explore them—and they have.

This article provides insights on this issue. @peekbackstage’s conversation with a Chinese film/TV director in Clubhouse is also well worth a read.]

That said, Danmei can only be dissociated from the queer characterisation if there’s a way to talk about the genre without evoking words and phrases that suggest homosexuality—something that is difficult to do with English. Is there?

In Chinese, I’d venture to say … almost. There’s almost a way. Close enough to pass.

The fact that M/M in traditional BL has been developed and viewed not as queer but as a removal of F also means this: queerness isn’t “built-in” into the language of Danmei. The name Danmei itself already bypasses a major “queer checkpoint”: it’s impossible to refer to a genre called Boy’s Love and not think about homosexuality.

Here’s one more important example of such bypass. Please let me, as an excuse to put these beautiful smiles in my blog, show this classic moment from TU; this can be any gif in which the leads are performing such suggestive romantic gestures:

How can I describe this succinctly? In English?

Two men acting in love? Er. That’s… the definition of gay, almost.

Two men acting gay? Well. GAY.

Right. Fine. Let’s go negative. Queerbaiting? … Still gay, because the word “queer” is in there.

[Pie note: for the record, I don’t think TU or WoH is queer-baiting.]

Personally, I find it impossible to describe the GIF above in English that I do not automatically associate with RL romantic love between two men, with homosexuality. But can I do it in Chinese?

… Yes.

There’s a term, 賣腐 (pronounced “maifu”), literally, “selling 賣 the rot 腐”, derived from the term known among i-fans as fujoshi and written, in kanji, as 腐女. Fujoshi, or 腐 (“rot”) 女 (“women”), describes the largely (het) female audience of the Japanese BL genre (>80%, according to Wikipedia). Originated as a misogynistic insult towards female Japanese BL fans in the 2000s, fujoshi was later reclaimed by the same female BL fans who now use the self-depreciative term as acknowledgement of their interest being “rotten”, for BL’s disregard of the society’s traditional expectations on women.

賣腐 is therefore to “sell the rot” to the rotten women; ie. the suggestive romantic gestures, exemplified by the GIF above, between the M/M leads are catering, performing fan service to their target audience.

[賣腐 is also a term one will see in the state opinion pieces.]

There’s nothing gay about this term.

I’ve therefore found it possible to talk and think in Chinese about Danmei while giving little thought to queerness. The history and definition of Danmei allow that.

Again, I’m not saying any of this to excuse homophobia among in Danmei and Dangai fandoms. The point I’m trying to make is this — given that Danmei has three potential characterisations, two of which can be discussed without abundantly evoking queer concepts and vocabularies, given that history of Danmei, as a genre, already favoured characterisation 2 (traditional BL), the government addressing homosexuality in its opinions on Danmei and Dangai is far from a given.

By extension, the popularity of Dangai may mean a lot or little to c-queers; by extension, the state can approve / disapprove of Danmei and Dangai in a manner independent of its stance on homosexuality, which is itself inconsistent and at times, logic-deying (example to come…).

This is both good and bad, from the perspective of both the government and the c-queer community.

For the government: as discussed, the “triality” of Danmei allows the state to “move the goalpost” depending on what it tries to achieve. It has characterisations 2 (the traditional BL characterisation) and 3 (the aesthetic characterisation) as excuses to let Dangai dramas pass the censorship board should it want their profit and also, their promise of expanding the country’s soft power overseas by drawing an international audience. These characterisations also allow the state to throw cold water on the popularity of Danmei / Dangai should it desire, for reasons other than its queer suggestions—despite the Xi regime’s push against open expressions of queerness (including by activism, in media), it has also been careful about not demonising c-queers in words, and has countered other people’s attempts to do so.

Why may the government want to throw cold water on Danmei and Dangai? They are still subculture, which the state has also viewed with suspicion. In 2018, a NRTA directive explicitly requested that “c-ent programmes should not use entertainers with tattoos; (those associated with) hip-hop culture, sub-cultures (non-mainstream cultures), decadent cultures.” (”另外，总局明确要求节目中纹身艺人、嘻哈文化、亚文化（非主流文化）、丧文化（颓废文化）不用。”).

Subculture isn’t “core socialist values”. More importantly, it’s difficult to keep up with and control subculture. 環球網, the website co-owned by People’s Daily and Global Times (環球時報), ie, The State Newspaper and The State Tabloid, famously said this on its Weibo, on 2020/03/04, re: 227:

老了，没看懂为什么战。晚安。 Getting old. Can’t figure out what the war is about. Good night.

The State also cannot stop subculture from happening. It doesn’t have the resources to quell every single thing that become popular among its population of 1.4 billion. What it can do to make sure these subcultures stay subcultures, kept out of sight and mind of the general public.

Characterisation 1 (the queer characterisation), meanwhile, remains available to the state should it wish to drop the axe on Dangai for its queer elements. I’m including, as “queer elements”, presentation of men as too “feminine” for the state—which has remained a sore point for the government. This axe have a reason to drop in the upcoming months: July 23rd, 2021 will be the 100th birthday of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), and the state may desire to have only uniformed forces and muscled, gun-toting “masculine” men gracing the screens.

What about for c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans)? What good and bad can the multiple characterisations of the genres do for them?

For c-queers and their supporters (including group I fans), their acceptance and safety are helped by the Dangai genre, by the Dangai 101 phenomenon, if and only if the state both characterises the queer elements in these dramas as queer (characterisation 1) AND their opinions of them are positive.

Personally, I had viewed this to be unlikely from the start, because a queer characterisation would mean the censorship board has failed to do its job, which is embarrassing for the Chinese government.

Characterisations 2) and 3) are not bad for c-queers and their supporters, however, and definitely not “enemies” of Characterisation 1); they can not only serve as covers for the queer elements in Dangai to reach their audience, but also, they can act as protective padding for the LGBT+ community if the content or (very aggressive) marketing of the Dangai dramas displease the government — with the understanding, again, that the “traditional BL” arm of the Danmei community is itself also highly vulnerable by being a subculture, and so its padding effect is limited and it also deserves protection.

The downside to achieving LGBT+ visibility through Dangai is, of course and as mentioned, that these dramas are, ultimately, deeply unrealistic depictions of the c-queers. The promotion of these dramas, which has focused on physical interactions between the male leads for “candies”, can encourage even more fetishising of queers and queer relationships. The associated (character) CP culture that makes and breaks CPs based on the dramas’ airing cycle may also fuel negative perception of queer relationships as attention-seeking behaviour, something that can be initiated and terminated at will and for the right price.

Finally, with all this said, which characterisation(s) have the government taken re: Dangai and/or WOH? And what opinions has it given to its characterisations?

PART 1 <-- YOU ARE HERE PART 2 PART 3

#pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

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pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 8.8k / genre: smut, established relationship, driftracer!au

summary: Jimin’s been pretty busy recently and you’re starting to feel neglected. Guess you’ll just have to make him pay attention somehow.

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), unsafe driving (back at it with the street racing), cursing, mild degradation, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (it goes without saying but please use protection guys), creampie, controlled orgasm (delay), multiple orgasms (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names

THIS IS A FOLLOW UP TO ‘CATCH YOUR DRIFT’— please read the original first

a/n: to everyone who was asking about a cyd follow-up—here it is! it’s basically a pwp with the flimsiest of plots lmao. enjoy!! x

“Jimin's up to something.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks away from where he’s been fiddling with something in the Pontiac’s engine. “What?”

“Jimin,” you repeat, slowly. “He’s up to something.”

Park Jimin. Breathtaking, captivating, gorgeous Park Jimin—unstoppable in his sleek black Nissan Skyline GTR, a master in his element, relentless, incredible. Your rival and main competitor on the track. The one person who challenges you, who you measure yourself against, who you always strive to beat.

Park Jimin. Your boyfriend.

“He’s been… weird lately,” you say, uncharacteristically hesitant.

Jungkook looks a little baffled but also concerned, eyes darting over in the same direction as yours. Jimin’s already kissed you good luck, a soft, lingering touch of his lips against yours before returning to his own car, and you’ve been watching him get ready for tonight’s race. He lounges against his black Skyline and laughs at something that Yoongi and Taehyung are talking about, looking every inch the king that he is.

Jimin is as striking and dazzling as always, jacket covered in jewels that burst outwards like fireworks, the cut of his metallic shirt low enough to reveal his collarbones and smooth skin of his chest. The only understated part of his outfit is the pair of unadorned silver hoops in his ears, simple and elegant. A gift from you that he wears every time you race.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise a little. “What do you mean he’s up to something?”

Honestly, being with Jimin is a dream. At first you’d been concerned that your competitive natures would clash and that being opponents on the drifting circuit would cause friction in your relationship—but it actually works out really well. Jimin makes you strive to be a better person, the best you can be, both on and off the track. You’re both as invested in giving each as much attention as you do to winning races, and the truth is that a lot of the fierceness you show on the track melts away entirely when you’re alone together: it just highlights how multifaceted and incredible Jimin is.

He’s a ruthless competitor. He’s also sweet and caring and kind and he always makes time for you.

Or at least, he normally does.

“He keeps saying he’s busy, and he seems to be distracted when we’re together,” you admit to Jungkook in a low hush. There’s no one within hearing distance of your Pontiac but you’re still cautious. Your relationship with Jimin is well known throughout the circuit now and you don’t want people overhearing intimate details about it. It’s none of their business. “I don’t know, Kookie, it’s… it’s concerning. I guess.”

You’re usually self-assured and confident but right now you sound unsure. Jungkook’s known you for years and years and is one of your closest friends, but even so, admitting this to him is difficult—and he knows it.

Jungkook pulls the hood of your car down, shutting it with firm hands before he leans across the metal towards you. “Have you tried asking him about it?”

“Of course.”

“What did he say?”

“We, uh, got distracted,” you say, and Jungkook makes a face at the implication.

“Maybe next time you’re trying to have a serious conversation you shouldn’t let yourself get ‘distracted’?” He raises his eyebrows as he lifts his hands to make air quotations at you and you pout.

“But his ass is just so perfect, can you blame me?”

“Okay, that’s it, I’m out,” Jungkook says while looking pained, and you can’t help but laugh.

Later, though, when you beat Jimin in the race, he lavishes attention on you like he always does—you’d barely inched out ahead of him tonight and so he takes his time when he works you up, touch light and teasing as he runs his hands over you. Your head tilts forward as you pant, bent over the hood of his car as he fingers you open, deep and slow. Just the way you like it, even if you’re hungry for more.

“Jimin, please.” Your voice is desperate as you beg and try to rock against his fingers, get him to move faster. “I need you inside me, god—”

Your words choke off when you feel a sharp smack against the bared skin of your ass, a small punishment for your impatience. You let out a gasp that turns into a quiet moan, turning to hide your face in your elbow to try and stifle the noise as Jimin’s hands immediately soothe over the touch, soft as he rubs over your heated skin.

“Patience, baby.” His voice is low. “You’ll get my cock when you’re nice and ready. Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, a little breathless. “I just want you so bad.”

You’re still turned away from him but you can hear the affection in Jimin’s answer as he leans forward to kiss the sensitive skin just behind your ear. “I know, sweet thing.”

Once he finally sinks his cock into you, it doesn’t take long for him to pull you over the edge, your nails scraping against the warm metal of his car as your body goes tense and you cum. Jimin follows soon after, spilling himself inside you as you shiver and clench around him, trying to draw him in as deep as possible; no matter how many times he fucks you open it never gets old, the way you can feel his body move against yours, the way he gasps and moans as he reaches his own edge, the way he holds you close as you both go lax against each other, warm and tender.

“Are you free on Saturday?” You’re perched on the hood of his Nissan afterwards, arms curled around his neck as you pull away to look up at him. “I thought you might want to come over for dinner and a film? You can choose which one we watch, I’m not picky.”

A quick expression flits across Jimin’s face, faster than you can identify, before it turns apologetic. “Sorry, baby. I’m busy this Saturday. How about next week?”

“Oh,” you say. “Okay. Um. Do you want to… grab a quick lunch instead? Or something? When you’re free?”

Jimin turns his face into your hair, nuzzling into your scalp before he kisses the crown of your head. “I think I’ll be busy all weekend, but I’ll let you know, okay?”

You pause and try to hide the surprising amount of pain and confusion that shoots through you at his subtle dismissal, schooling your features before Jimin pulls away to look at you. “Okay baby,” you say brightly. “I hope you have a good weekend, either way.”

Jimin cups your face gently as he smiles at you, all warmth and open affection before he dips down to softly kiss you on the lips. “I will.”

If you didn’t trust Jimin so much you’d think he was cheating on you.

You know that Jimin has his own life outside of you and you’re okay with that. You honestly are. It’s not that you want to monopolise his time, but he’s usually so willing to give it to you without you even asking—so now that it seems like he’s pulling away, it’s all the more pronounced when it happens, and you can’t help but wonder why. You’re trying not to be pushy and you haven’t outright demanded Jimin tell you what he’s so busy with; it must be important if he’s prioritising it over you and keeping it a secret, right?

Right?

You’re not needy or overbearing or clingy, but you are a tad possessive, and you can’t help but feel jealous of whatever it is that’s catching Jimin’s attention so much.

“Uh.” Taehyung’s eyes are wide. “Y/n, uh… your bra is? Kind of? Showing a little bit?”

“I know Tae, but thank you.” You take one last glance at yourself in your wing mirror before straightening up, content with how you look tonight. “I can assure you it’s entirely intentional.”

You usually opt for feminine outfits when you race, but they’re never normally this revealing; it’s borderline scandalous, really. Your bra is visible through the lace mesh of your shirt and your skirt is hiked so high it barely covers your ass, pleats fluttering each time you move. The thing that’s covering you the most is actually your pink leather jacket, but even that’s not enough to hide you from any eyes that are roving over you.

But the real kicker—the part of the outfit that would let anyone with discerning eyes know that you’re aiming for aesthetic over practicality—are your shoes. Your over-the-knee suede boots have a killer heel and they have got to be the worst things to drive with, the heels making it hard to shift your feet when you need to slam them onto the pedals, but you don’t care.

“I still think you should try talking to Jimin instead of doing… this,” Jungkook says, waving an arm at you.

“You just gestured to all of me.” You raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Not that you don’t always look good, of course, but tonight you’ve pulled out all the stops and it shows.

“That’s my point,” Jungkook groans. “If I nearly catch sight of your butt cheeks one more time I’m going to call the police. I’m feeling distinctly harassed.”

“You should be grateful.” You blow him a kiss and Jungkook makes a face.

“I’m going to call 911.”

“We’re not in America, Kookie,” Taehyung says. Jungkook just sighs.

Seokjin’s organised the meet at a car park in Gangnam tonight, and you watch as the lot starts to fill up, tweaked Supras and Skylines and Fairlady Zs whose engines rumble as their drivers descend into the underground level, filling the basement with noise. There are unfamiliar faces you don’t recognise, rich residents of Seoul’s most expensive neighbourhood rolling out to show off their money by way of their beautiful cars.

You know a lot of these people won’t be racing tonight and they’re just here for the novelty of it all. Good for them. You have other things on your mind.

(If Jimin isn’t going to give you time when you want it, then you’re not going to let him take it when he wants it. He hasn’t turned up yet but you know the second he sees you he won’t be able to keep his eyes off you—but tonight you’re not going to let him have you.)

You’re perched on the hood of your flame-red Pontiac as you wait for everyone to finish turning up, pretending to be absorbed in checking your nails as you cross your legs; you don’t have to look up to know that people are staring at you and your shameless behaviour.

They can watch. You’re not doing this for them.

You glance up at the sound of a deep rumble, almost a purr, and your eyes widen at the sight of the next car that rolls into view. It must be the only time you’ve ever been caught off guard by an unfamiliar vehicle and you don’t even have to pretend to be overawed, breathless as you take in the gorgeous sight.

She’s low and sleek and magnificent, stark black cut through with a thick ribbon of blood red that rises over the car's bonnet and roof, matching the crimson wheel trims and strip of colour that trails over the edge of its spoiler. The LED headlights glow white and red, crimson halo rings shimmering through the pristine and unmarked glass. She’s all smooth lines and curved edges, every contour a graceful stroke that builds up into a masterpiece, heavenly and bewitching all at once.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe, and for the first time since you started racing, you approach someone’s car before you even know who they are.

The driver is a man you don’t recognise. He’s stepped out of the car and is leaning against it casually, arms crossed and head tilted as he surveys the other motors lined up nearby, running a hand through his dyed brown hair to push it away from his forehead. He’s tall and handsome with his defined cupid’s bow and hooded eyes, and he’d almost look sleepy if he wasn’t watching you so intently, noticing your approach and keeping his eyes on you as you step forwards.

“Oh my god. A Dodge Viper?” You can’t begin to imagine the exportation costs for this thing and how much it must have cost to get the parts to modify it, let alone maintain it. (But Gangnam is an incredibly wealthy area, after all, so you’re not too surprised.)

“You like it?” The Viper’s owner tilts his head at you, a small smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “I can take you for a drive later if you’d like, beautiful.”

“Trust me, if I was sitting in this car, I’d be behind the wheel,” you say. “I bet she drives like a dream. How did you get your hands on an SRT-10 ACR? In Seoul?”

His smirk grows wider. “Brought it with me from Chicago.” He shrugs carelessly, as if it can’t have cost him a small fortune. Like the money means nothing to him. Pocket change. Holy shit. “You wanna take that seat behind the wheel to see if it suits your fancy?”

It does. You run your hands over the leather seats and tilted wheel, pretending to hide a laugh behind your hand as the driver, Johnny, leans into the car to adjust the seat for you; you spread your legs so he can reach between them to pull the bar before he can move the chair, helping you hitch it forwards so you can reach the pedals with your feet, your legs shorter than his. It’s nothing lewd but it’s undeniably flirtatious, even if you’re more focused on drinking down the car’s beautiful interior than pandering to his attention on you.

Johnny holds a hand out to help you step out of the low car and back onto your feet, taking a second to steady yourself on your heels. You’ve been so focused on the Viper that you haven’t been paying attention to the other vehicles that now fill the parking lot, but over Johnny’s shoulder you notice a car that’s as familiar as your own by now—Jimin’s black Skyline.

Your hand is still lingering in Johnny’s as you take the sight in. Jimin looks surprisingly flashy today, jewel embellished bomber jacket catching the eye, Gucci shirt tucked into leather trousers that are cinched tight against his waist by his belt, highlighting his thick thighs and perfect ass. Still pink-haired and always gorgeous. Your beautiful, charming, wonderful boyfriend.

When you make eye contact with him for the first time that night, a hot shiver shoots through you, goosebumps rising over your skin. Jimin’s lips are a firm line and his eyes are dark through the soft touch of faint eyeshadow, and he looks almost impassive, cold; even when you’d first met, back when you’d been nothing more than opponents, he’d never looked like this.

He’s furious.

He doesn’t come over to wish you good luck today and you don’t approach him either. Even if this hadn’t been your aim to begin with, who can blame you? You’ll work with this. Maybe it’s passive aggressive, maybe it’s petty, but if Jimin isn’t going to give you the time of day you can’t be blamed if you’re feeling starved for attention, right?

Johnny might be watching, and others might be staring, but at the end of the day you’re only ever aware of one man—and Jimin knows that.

You’ve been driving your Pontiac for long enough that adding heels to the mix doesn’t throw you off as much as people might expect (besides, you’ve been practicing). Even so, it wouldn’t matter if they did, because you’re not wearing them to help achieve a victory—for the first time ever, you don’t care if you beat Jimin today. Not on the track, anyway. You wanted him wound up and frustrated, desperate to touch you, and it seems like he is.

It shows in his driving. He’s always a sight to behold when he races, swaying his body into the motion of his car as they dance together, every motion practiced and sure. But tonight his actions are sharp and angry. Jimin curls his Skyline into each turn, hard and fast; the Nissan almost seems to float as he pulls the steering wheel and sets the wheels at the perfect angle to achieve his drift, swinging effortlessly around the crescents of safety cones of today’s course.

He beats you.

And yet you’re the one who’s smiling. You step out of your car and take in his frosty expression; your heart pounds in your chest but you pretend to be unaffected, disappearing into the throng of fans who are hollering in excitement for the after party now that all the races have finished.

“Oh, hey, Y/n!” Hoseok seems unperturbed when you loop your arm through his, staying cheerful as you latch onto him. He’s still one of the few drivers who you actually like and trust to not be lecherous towards you, no matter what you’re wearing. “Wow, you’re a lot taller than normal. Where’s Jimin?”

“Don’t know,” you say. It’s true—he’d disappeared after the race and you have no idea where he’s gone, but you know you’ll find him eventually. Or he’ll find you. You always find each other in the end. “Where are the drinks? Is there anything non-alcoholic?”

Hoseok manages to find some cans of coke, much to your delight. He tilts his own can against yours in a cheers motion as you continue to cling to him, sipping your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for where your boyfriend might have disappeared to.

By the time your can is empty and drained of liquid, Jimin has yet to appear. You frown. It’s not like him to be gone for so long, even if he’s angry right now. You unravel your arm from Hoseok’s and pat his cute cheek as a thank you for letting you hold onto him for so long before you slip away from the after party; you’re uninterested in keeping up the facade of having fun if Jimin isn’t around.

The elevator is deserted when you step into it, pressing the button to take you to the roof, where you’d left your Pontiac after finishing the race earlier. It’s starting to get chilly and your sheer top does nothing to protect you from the nip in the air. You draw your leather jacket closer around you once the elevator doors open, stepping out onto the rooftop and towards your Solstice.

There are no lights up here but you don’t need any. Gangnam never sleeps, lights from billboards and skyscrapers washing over each of the buildings, and the sky is clear tonight too—the moon is shining down, silver and bright. You spot a familiar silhouette, bathed in white light where he sits atop your Pontiac’s hood, leaning back on his palms in the way he always does.

Jimin’s the only person who's allowed to touch your car like that.

You let your jacket fall back open as you approach. Jimin’s eyes flicker over to you, his face remaining hard as he watches. A cold shiver runs down your spine but you hold your ground—you’re not about to bow down immediately in the face of his quiet frustration.

Jimin’s eyes slide over you, taking every inch of you in; each part of your revealing outfit, your flawless makeup, your boots, their unnecessary heel. Even though you know he’s angry right now you can tell he likes what he sees and you can’t help but feel pleased about it.

“Come here, sweet thing,” he says. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand between his legs, because of course you immediately comply with him; he lifts one hand off the car’s bonnet to grasp your chin in his hands, tilting your face down towards him. He doesn’t let go. His grasp is firm. “Any reason why you’re so dolled up today?”

“Nope.” You pop your lips loudly around the p. “No reason at all. Why, do I need a reason to want to look pretty?”

Jimin’s grip tightens and his eyes narrow. Wrong answer. A small puff of air escapes you, knees weak—you’ve never seen Jimin so affected by anything and you feel weirdly powerful at this realisation. There’s something thrilling to know that only you can get under his skin like this.

“Of course not.” Jimin’s voice is deceptively smooth and low, something burning in his gaze. “Just seems to me like my baby wanted everyone’s eyes on her tonight, for one reason or another.”

You stay silent. You don’t want everyone’s eyes on you: you just want his.

Jimin crooks one of his eyebrows at you as you remain quiet. He takes his hand off your chin and lets it fall, dragging it over the lace of your top, through the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before slipping under the hem, splaying his hand over your belly. You can’t help but shiver, body singing under his touch when he draws his nails lightly over your skin. The sight of his hand against you, visible through the netting of your shirt, sets the blood to rising in your veins.

“Oh? Shy all of a sudden, baby?” His eyebrow is still raised as he watches your movements, the way you react to him so easily, always attuned to his touch. “Where was all that shyness earlier, hm? You seemed so bold behind the wheel of that little Viper.”

“I was just having a look,” you say, acting a little pettish. You hadn’t been planning on letting Jimin touch you, but—but you’re so weak for him, and besides, you don’t want him thinking that you’re shying away from his hands because you’d been talking to Johnny earlier.

Jimin rises, pulling his hand from under your shirt as he does. “And everyone was looking at you,” he says. You know he can be possessive and it’s fine, because you are too, and you have no eyes for anyone else but him; normally he likes it when people look at you, because they don’t have a chance and he knows it. “Do you like it when people watch you, sweet thing?”

He punctuates this question with a movement of his hands, one coming to rest at your collarbones, the other sliding between your legs with no warning, running his fingers over the material of your underwear. You jolt in surprise, sucking in a breath.

“You want me to take you right here, hm?” His fingers are rubbing small, tantalisingly light circles over your clit, your panties a maddening barrier between your skin and his. “Bend you over and fuck you on this rooftop where anyone could see?”

Your cunt clenches, entire body going tight at the idea, and Jimin’s eyes darken when he notices. He flips your positions, and your hand fly out to brace yourself against the hood of your car as Jimin shoves the material of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist, revealing the scalloped edges of your skimpy lace underwear and the two tiny bows that adorn the centre line of them.

“You want me to call everyone up here? Let them see how well you take my cock?” Jimin continues to run his palms over the flesh of your ass as he speaks. He digs his fingers into your skin and a moan slips out of your lips, the pain shooting through you and dulling into pleasure. “I bet you want them to touch you too, don’t you?”

“No,” you insist. “No, Jimin, only want you—”

“You expect me to believe that you’re not a hungry little cockslut, dressed the way you are tonight, hm?”

You’re blindsided by the arousal that floods through you. You know that Jimin doesn’t think that, not really, but the way he lets the degradation fall from his lips has your toes curling.

“I only want your cock,” you say, trembling. Any rush of power you felt earlier is gone. Jimin is entirely in control now and you both know it. “Wanted you to look at me—dressed pretty for you—”

“Oh, sweet thing,” Jimin hums, sounding indulgent. “You were just feeling needy, was that it?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, need you so much.”

God. You’re so weak and needy right now, and it’s crazy how much power Jimin has over you; you’ve never been so ready and willing to surrender yourself up before, your earlier planning and resolve slipping away almost as soon as Jimin had laid his hands on you. But what you have with Jimin is built on trust, and you trust him enough to be vulnerable in front of him, to let him see how hungry and desperate you are for his touch.

Then again, he’s always hungry for you, too.

He strokes his hands down your ass and thighs before he circles his hand around your throat to pull you up. He puts no pressure behind his fingertips but you feel helpless anyway, breathless as he pulls you flush against him, your back to his chest, head tilted upwards with how his hand is resting around your throat.

Jimin’s voice is pitched low and his breath is warm against your ear as he lets the words curl out of his mouth. “What does my baby need?”

Oh, he does so love to hear you beg. Your eyes flicker towards a sudden flash of light; there’s someone using the elevator, panel lighting up, letting you know they’re on the way to the rooftop.

“Jimin—”

He presses closer to you, trapping you against your car, helpless. “If you don’t tell me what you need you won’t get it,” he says, and you shudder.

“Need you to fuck me,” you gasp out. “Need you to make me cum—need you to fill me up—want you so bad—”

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Jimin steps away just as the elevator dings, doors sliding open to reveal a gaggle of people, fans crowding around a few drivers. The smile on Jimin’s face is wicked as you turn around, and you almost hate how nonchalant he looks while you’re so affected. You have no doubt the flimsy material of your underwear and the high hem of your skirt is doing nothing to hide how slick you are, so you’re grateful that the rooftop is only lit in dim light.

One of the drivers peels off from the group and you realise that it’s Johnny. He approaches you despite how Jimin wraps an arm around your waist, hand sliding under your jacket—you let yourself relax, leaning against Jimin’s familiar body, settling against him in a way you don’t even have to think about any more.

“Nice driving,” Johnny says. He hadn’t actually raced himself, but his Dodge is a powerful and vicious beast, so you’re not surprised he didn’t want to risk damaging her in the tight corners of the car park. She thrives on the open road, not indoors. “Want to put those skills to the test in my Viper?”

“She’s busy.” Jimin pulls you even closer. He has his usual mask on now, distant and aloof. You’re the only one who sees his softness, or his lust. (That’s only for you.)

“Wasn’t talking to you, man.” Johnny doesn’t even spare Jimin a glance, ignoring him despite how Jimin had beaten you earlier—he just stares at you. You can’t help but feel insulted on your boyfriend’s behalf. He’s a fantastic driver and he deserves every bit of attention that Johnny is lavishing on you.

“Thank you, but it’s true, I’m busy,” you say. Jimin’s thumb is slowly brushing up and down your side; just a small, tiny motion, but you’re hyperaware of it. You lift your hand to rest on Jimin’s chest, over the raised, glittering Roman numerals of his shirt. “Enjoy your Viper. She’s beautiful.”

Johnny stands there for a second and then shrugs. “Aight,” he says. “I will. Have a nice night, I guess.”

He wanders off and gets absorbed back into the group of people he’d appeared with. Jimin turns his head and kisses your cheek, and then your ear, dipping his head to mouth at your neck, and you grip the hand that’s resting on your waist.

“Jiminie,” you say. “We need to go.”

He laughs against the skin of your throat. He sounds smug, the desperation obvious in your tone. “Always so needy, sweet thing,” he murmurs. “Haven’t heard the saying all good things come to those who wait?”

Jimin’s making you pay for your earlier boldness and you know it. There’s an ache between your legs, one that needs to be satisfied, but he seems happy to wait, unruffled. You’re so riled up right now and he seems unmoved, even if the iciness around him has melted now.

“I’ve been waiting all night.” You squirm a little, tightening your thighs, trying to offer yourself some relief; Jimin can always turn you on so fast and you can feel a physical throb of arousal in your cunt, lips swollen, begging to just be touched.

He lets out a little sigh, as if he’s being put upon right now. You’re torn between wanting to kiss him or shove him away from your car.

“Fine,” you say, making your tone a petulant one as you turn your nose up. “I guess I’ll just go home and grab my vibrator—”

Jimin tugs you against him, his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. His voice is quiet but undeniable. “No, you won’t. I’m not done with you, sweet thing. You’re always so impatient.” He loosens his hold so he can pull his head away and then he’s smiling at you; there’s something behind that smirk, something in his eyes. “Come on, baby.”

He gives you no chance to question him. You drive beside him in your Solstice, trying to ignore how your skirt is hitched up and you can feel yourself dripping on the leather seat; the rumble and vibrations of your car provide the barest of reliefs, nowhere near what you really want.

You know Jimin’s apartment will be deserted tonight, Yoongi staying with Taehyung, leaving you and Jimin alone, but he still teases you even as you step inside. You try to crowd up against Jimin, get him to touch you— you know that he wants to and he usually gives in once you’re this wound up and aching, but tonight he seems content not to. At one point you try to guide his hand under your shirt again and he grabs your wrist, giving you a look that makes your knees go weak, even if you scowl at him. He hasn’t even kissed you properly yet.

“Be patient,” he says.

There’s a note of warning in his voice. Normally you’d be more willing and pliant, ready to listen, but this entire escapade started because you’re feeling neglected and ignored—this is just the icing on the cake.

“I have been! Come on,” you whine. “Don’t you want your reward for winning tonight?”

Jimin’s mouth is a hard line. “I’m going to claim my prize,” he says. “But it seems like you’re making this about you, aren’t you? Always so greedy, sweet thing. I guess I’ve been too lax with you, haven’t I?”

You pause. He has that look in his eye, one that you’ve started to recognise the more you see it, and you can feel your pussy throbbing when you realise that he’s starting to take complete control of the situation. You’re equals on the track, and equals in this relationship, but recently in the bedroom you’ve been giving up your position at the helm sometimes, letting Jimin control the pace.

Because you trust him.

“Maybe,” you answer, and Jimin smiles. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

“No, that’s true,” Jimin says. “That’s why I’ll only punish you for your earlier shameless behaviour, not your impatience. I’ll give you five.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate on what he means. Five spanks. Barely anything, really. You scoff. “Five? Why even bother at that point?”

Jimin’s eyes darken. “Another five for answering back. That’s ten altogether. You want to keep going, baby?”

Do you? You’re not sure. Jimin’s helped you discover that you enjoy spanking, sure, but do you really want to waste time on more spanks when you could be getting something better?

You’ve clearly been quiet for long enough that Jimin finds it concerning. “What’s your colour, sweet thing?”

A warm flush of affection spreads through your chest, the reminder that no matter what happens, you have your safewords: that even though you feel like Jimin is controlling the direction of the night, you have the power to stop it if you need to. You decide that ten is enough. “Green,” you say. “I’m green, Jimin.”

You watch as he smiles at you, pleased, before he pulls the rings off his right hand, dropping them to the coffee table and ignoring the clatter of metal against glass. Once his hand is free and unadorned he takes a seat in the middle of the sofa, patting his thighs. “Boots off, and then I want you over here, baby.”

You shrug your jacket off and let it fall to the floor before you pull the tie-string at the top of your boots, letting them sag open before you kick them aside. You try to ignore how slick your folds feel and how wet you are as you make your way over to him, draping yourself across his lap; his thighs feel so thick and firm under your stomach, shifting forwards so that your ass is tilted up towards him, settling over his knees. You glance over your shoulder to look at Jimin but he just tuts.

“Eyes forward.”

You bite your lip but obey, facing forwards again as you stretch your arms in front of you, staring at your hands. You can’t see what Jimin is doing but you focus on the sensation of each of his motions. How he pulls your skirt up like he had earlier, how the air of the room is cool on your skin.

You choke in a gasp when he takes the material of your underwear and tugs it up, revealing the bare skin of your ass when he pulls them tight; the pressure against your clit feels so good but it’s still not enough, even when you try to roll your hips forwards into the sensation. He clicks his tongue and then pulls them down instead, letting them settle at your knees, nothing better than a flimsy restraint.

“I want you to count them for me,” Jimin murmurs. He’s rubbing his hands over your skin, your lower back and ass and thighs, getting you ready; he swats your skin lightly a few times to get you prepared, each quick slap a glancing touch that quickly fades. “One to ten. Okay?”

“Okay.” Your voice is shakier than you thought it would be, so wound up and desperate for any sort of relief. Even though the light hits that he’s raining down on your skin fade almost instantly you can feel the coil tightening inside you, the anticipation building up, ready to burst.

The first real smack has you jolting in his lap. The pain quickly fades into pleasure and you clench your hands as the sensation rolls through you. “One,” you count as Jimin rubs his palm over your skin, soothing it.

The next smack is on your other buttock, Jimin’s flat palm leaving a stinging sensation against your skin that tingles outwards and into your core. “T-two.”

You continue to count out each smack. Jimin varies the intensity and speed of them, alternating between caressing your skin or squeezing the flesh of your ass between each one; you can never anticipate how he’s going to move, each slap against your skin a sharp pain that instantly melts into pleasure, sensation dulling and spreading into a tingling sting that settles into you.

By the time you’re ready for the last hit you’re almost sobbing with pleasure, trying your best not to squirm in his lap, trying not to think about how much you’re dripping. Jimin dips his fingers lower, glancing over your sodden folds, and you gasp out loud at the teasing, desperate for more.

“One more.” Jimin’s voice is low. “You’re doing so, so well, baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and then his hand is coming down against the swell of your ass for the final time. “Ten,” you gasp.

Jimin’s hands are all over you, stroking you, praising you with his words and touch. He turns your head towards him so he can crane forwards and kiss you. It’s an awkward position but you can’t help but lean into the kiss, the first time his lips have touched yours tonight, ample reward after the punishment you’d just taken.

“Did so well,” he praises. “How are you doing, baby?”

His hands are rubbing over your sore flesh. Your skin stings but the ache isn’t bad, although you can’t help but think that you’re not going to want to put any pressure on your ass any time soon. “I’m good,” you say. “So good. Thank you, Jiminie.”

He lets out a tinkling little laugh. “Thanking me for a punishment, sweet thing?”

You feel loose and relaxed, limp in Jimin’s lap, all the endorphins from the spanking running through your veins. “I deserved it,” you sigh.

Your head is turned to one side so you can glance at Jimin, though the angle still prevents you from seeing anything in any sort of detail—so you’re caught completely off guard when he pushes a finger into you, your lower lips parting so easily for him, and you let out a reedy cry when he presses another one in when he realises you can take it.

“You’re fucking dripping,” Jimin breathes, and you writhe as he presses in deeper, his pretty little fingers sinking so easily into your greedy cunt. You can’t spread your legs properly with how your underwear is hooked around your knees and you feel so tight around his fingers, especially when he presses a third one in, the slight burn fading so quickly into pleasure. “Oh, just look at you.”

The slick sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you is lewd. You’re so, so wet, only growing wetter as he continues to move his hand; he doesn’t touch your clit and when you try to rock against his thighs he uses his other hand to hold you still, splaying his fingers over the heated flesh of your ass.

He knows how hard you find it to cum without any stimulation to your clit and doesn’t touch you where you’re desperate to be touched, focusing on turning you into a quivering, needy mess in his lap. Your skin feels overheated and your nipples are hard in the cups of your bra, almost painful, and you’re so, so hungry for your release.

“Jimin, please,” you sob. “Please, please—”

He pulls all of his fingers out of you all at once. Tears of frustration spring to your eyes and you kick your feet as you clench and unclench your hands, but then Jimin is guiding you off his lap, putting his hands around your waist to move you. His hands are quick and fast as they tug your skirt down your legs, though he’s still careful to ease the waistband over the curve of your hips and ass, avoiding the stinging skin. You feel the lace of your top rip as you both hastily pull it off, but you really don’t give a shit, fumbling for the clasp of your bra as soon as you can; you’re naked and needy in front of a fully-clothed Jimin, who’s looking at you with hooded eyes as he stands.

Normally you take the time to touch him, feel his soft skin under your hands and lips, tease him and work him up with his cock in your mouth, but tonight it seems like he’s too impatient to wait. When you reach out for him he takes hold of your wrists, his grasp gentle but firm, and he guides you into the position he wants— knees on the sofa, hands braced against the backrest, looking over your shoulder so you can drink him in as he gets undressed.

First, that beautiful embellished bomber of his, carelessly cast to one side. Next, the shirt, tugged out of the tight loop of his belt and pulled over his head, revealing his beautiful chest and stomach, the tattoos you’ve grown familiar with still beautiful as ever on his skin. The belt, unbuckled, leather trousers shoved down and kicked aside, and then he pulls his socks off and he’s finally, finally done. He looks so beautiful like this, naked save for the jewellery on his body— the chain around his neck, the bracelets at his wrists, the rings on his left hand, and of course, the simple, silver hoops in his ears.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you breathe.

Jimin’s expression is clouded with lust but you can see how his eyes go soft at your reverent tone, and he bends forwards to catch your mouth against his again; it’s deep and slow but messy, sloppy with the desperation you have for each other. “You’re gorgeous too,” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, leaning into him. “My pretty baby.”

One of his hands settles at the curve of your waist, and the other grips his cock, ready to press into you. You’re almost shivering, so, so ready for him, entire body on edge; you choke in a gasp when you feel his cockhead brush against your folds, the slide so wet and easy. You feel how you part for him once he breaches you, your inner walls opening for his familiar hardness, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he bottoms out.

The skin of your ass stings where he’s pressed against it, but it’s just another sensation on top of the pleasure singing through you, settling in your lower belly and between your legs. Jimin wastes no time and starts to snap his hips forwards, one hand at your waist and the other at your shoulder to give him leverage to drive into you, curving your spine as you struggle to hold yourself up— the slap of his skin against yours and the wet sounds of his cock breaching your cunt is almost deafening, but then he leans forward to hook his arm around you, taking his fingers and rubbing tight, quick circles on your clit, fingers still wet from where they’d been sunk into you before.

The noise you make when you finally cum drowns out the other sounds that have been filling the room. You cum so hard your legs shake and you slump forwards, thighs trembling as you fold your weight into your arms, ripples of pleasure skating through you from your dripping cunt, still stuffed full of Jimin’s hot cock.

Jimin slows his thrusts, though he’s still pumping in and out of you, aftershocks trembling through your body from your orgasm. He puts a hand in your hair and tugs, pulling you against him, the skin of your back pressed against his chest. “Is my baby still feeling needy, hm?”

You nod your head, still grinding back against him, chasing the pleasure of his cock shifting inside you and the ache of your stinging skin dragging against his hipbones. “Yes,” you say, breathless. “Yes, need more.”

Jimin laughs, a triumphant little sound. You’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed at how shameless you’re being right now. “I knew it,” he says. “Greedy little cockslut, aren’t you?”

You clench around him, swallowing down a moan. “Only for you, Jiminie.”

“No one else is ever going to be good enough, are they?” He circles his hips and you shudder against him at the feeling, how his cock drags against your inner walls. “No one else knows how to please my baby like I do, do they?”

“No,” you agree. “No, no one else, only you— oh—”

Jimin stays inside you as he turns you around, hands firm around your waist as he sits down and pulls you with him, seating you in his lap. You lean back against him, rolling your hips and arching your spine when he cups your breasts in his hands, kissing down the length of your neck before sucking marks into your skin. Once it seems like he’s satisfied with how clearly he’s marked you as being taken, as being his, he starts to bounce you in his lap, thick thighs cushioning your fall each time you drive your hips back down.

“Can you cum again for me, baby?” His fingers are digging so firmly into your hips now that you wonder if it’ll bruise, but you can’t help but want it, want more reminders that you’re his. Reminders of his touch. “Can you give me one more?”

“Y-yes,” you hiccup, breath driven out of you with one particularly hard rock of Jimin’s hips. “Wanna come with you, Jimin.”

You can tell when Jimin’s close to his release. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know—you can picture the sweat in his hair, the set of his brows and the curve of his mouth as he moans. You know the cadence of his gasps, how the motions of his hips start to speed and go off rhythm; you know exactly when to let your hand fall between your legs, rubbing at your clit so that you can cum with Jimin, your entire body wound up and ready to tumble off the edge with him. He puts his hand over yours, pressing the pads of your fingers down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves as your fingers grow slick with your wetness, and you’re gone.

You hit your peak with a breathless, wanton cry, throwing your head back against Jimin’s shoulder as your toes curl and you cum again. You’re swept up in the sensation of pleasure washing through your body when you feel how Jimin shudders underneath and inside you, how your cunt is still clenching as his cock twitches, as he empties himself into you. You’ve never cum the same time as someone before. It’s almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him, drawing it deeper inside you with each wave of sensation that ripples through your core, and you slump back against him, your chests heaving as you both ride out your highs; the tremors slowly subside as Jimin strokes his hands over your skin, and you twist your head so you can kiss each other slowly, lazily pressing your lips together as you catch your breaths, pleasure from your orgasms settling into every inch of your bodies.

“My pretty baby,” Jimin says, quiet and sweet against your mouth. You smile and rub your nose against his, pressing a swift kiss to the swell of his cupid’s bow.

“All yours,” you say, leaning into the tight embrace that Jimin wraps you in.

You feel blissful and fucked out, lying on your side on the sofa to save putting pressure on your still sore ass, watching Jimin as he moves around the room. He gathers up your clothes and you see how he pauses when he reaches your boots. It’s like you both remember all at once what lead you to this moment, and you see how Jimin turns his head to you with a question on his lips—he knows you well enough to know that everything you do is thought out and measured and that there would have been a reason that you were dressed so provocatively. You wouldn’t have done it on a whim, just because you felt like it.

“Y/n,” he says, and you look away from him, suddenly embarrassed. Every touch tonight has cemented the fact that Jimin cares about you and gives you time and attention, so now you just feel like some sort of dumb petulant child who was being greedy—you didn’t think you were monopolising Jimin’s time, but you obviously are. “Why—”

“You kept saying you were busy,” you interrupt, though you keep your eyes off him, staring up at the ceiling instead. “I was just—I was just feeling neglected and I wanted you to look at me. I wasn’t trying to get anyone else’s attention, I just wanted you to want to spend time with me, because you’ve been so busy recently and you won’t tell me why,” you finish, your voice quiet. You feel silly even as the final words come out.

“Oh, sweet thing.” Jimin’s voice is warm and gentle. You glance away from the ceiling to see him carefully setting all the clothes and mess to one side, heedless of the tangle of expensive clothing, and he crouches by the sofa to cup your face in his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, nuzzling into his lovely hands, into the now-familiar sensation of his fingers against your cheeks. “I was just being greedy.”

“No, you weren’t, you’re right.” His hair is mussed and his eyeshadow is smudged, as is yours, the two of you vulnerable with each other in ways you never are with anyone else. His eyes are soft and his face is open as he dips down to kiss your forehead, brushing the loose hair away from your face. “I have been very busy and I’ve been unfair by not telling you why.”

“You don’t have to,” you insist, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says. “Hold on.”

You watch him leave the room and pad down the hallway, past Yoongi’s bedroom and into his own, and you sit up when you see him reappear with a small collection of papers, print-outs that you try to catch a glimpse of before he spreads them on the coffee table for you to see.

“I’ve been going on apartment viewings,” he says. “I was trying to work out which place was best. What’s in our budget, where’s between my work and your garage—I’ve been trying to narrow it down.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s smiling at you in that way of his that you love so much, the one that squeezes his eyes and lets you see his crooked front tooth—the smile that drives home that Jimin is flawlessly flawed, perfect with his imperfections, overwhelming in his beauty.

“Jimin,” you breathe. “You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he says. “I thought it would be nice if you didn’t have to worry about anything because I would have already done all the legwork. I wanted to surprise you.”

Your face crumples. You don’t mean to, but you can feel tears welling in your eyes; Jimin moves instantly, pulling you close to him as you try to swallow down the sudden rush of emotion, overwhelmed. You’re both still naked, your skin pressed against his as he holds you, but there’s no lust behind this touch—it’s all love and affection and you still can’t believe that Park Jimin is yours. You’ve never felt so lucky in all your life.

“You should have told me,” you sniffle. “Apartment viewings suck. I could have helped.”

Jimin laughs, a light giggle that ends up muffled against your scalp when he noses into your hair. “That would have defeated the purpose of the surprise, sweet thing,” he says. He pulls back so he can look at you, and just like when he’d seen you cry before, there’s no judgement on his face—just warm empathy and fondness. “They do suck, though. It’s taken so much longer than I thought. I never meant to make you feel neglected.”

“I was being stupid.” You huff out a breath into his face. “Like—okay, sure, maybe you weren’t spending as much time with me as you normally do, but you weren’t neglecting me. I just got so used to having you whenever I wanted you.”

Jimin smiles. He keeps hold of you, pulled close in his embrace, and you know then that you’re never going to let Park Jimin go. “When we move in, you will,” he says, and you shiver at the promise of future pleasure—not just sex, but closeness, intimacy, a promise to one another that this is going to become more.

But, like, also the sex, too.

God, Jimin is so gorgeous.

You let Jimin thumb your small tears away. You hate crying in front of anyone, hate feeling weak, but Jimin never judges you. He makes you feel safe, like you can be open with him, and you know he’ll never betray your trust. You press a kiss to his Adam’s apple before you peer at the printed sheets on the coffee table, wanting to see the fruits of his labour. “So are these the ones you’ve narrowed it down to?” Your eyes flicker over the pages. “Take me through them.”

You end up curled in his lap, looking through each of his choices together—and hey, if you get distracted by each other halfway through the selection, who can blame you?

---

TAGLIST: @beyoncesdragon

#jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts smut #bts #jimin oneshot #jimin fanfic #bts x reader #joy.masterlist

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princesssarisa · 3 years ago

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I'd like some more input about my own writing, if it wouldn't be too much trouble.

In my Beauty and the Beast retelling, I've been fleshing out girl-Beast Liriel's backstory from when she was a princess. I've decided that her father, at least, died when she was too young to remember him, and so her main guardian was a single mother figure, whom I've named Katriel. Their relationship was distant at best, though, because Katriel was a real socialite of a princess and didn't have much time for little Liriel, and as the latter became a teenager, they constantly clashed because Liriel was too independent, not social or charming enough, has too much iof a passion for elemental magic, and was too staunchly a lesbian who rejected every wealthy potential husband she was offered. Still, they did love each other, and Liriel wanted Katriel's approval. Yet when (after other plot developments) Liriel turned herself into a beast and was, in turn, cursed never to be able to change back, Katriel banished her into the wilderness. They never met again, as Katriel died long before the main storyline begins.

The question is, should Katriel be Liriel's mother, or her much-older sister? I haven't decided.

Pros of Mother/Cons of Sister

*The original Beast/Prince in Villeneuve’s version of BatB has a widowed mother.

*Conflict between mothers and teenage daughters is older than recorded history and universally relatable – especially between traditionalist mothers and free-spirited, gender non-conforming daughters.

*Likewise, even though there’s no homophobia in the world of this story, conflict between an LGBT+ daughter and her mother who wants to make her more “feminine” and marry her off to a man (in this case for wealth or status) will always feel relevant. Especially because it ends with the mother throwing her daughter out when she realizes she’ll never conform to expectations.

*Shanna (Beauty) also has a widowed mother and has also sometimes felt inadequate in her eyes. (In their case it’s because she’s a sensitive, imaginative girl while her mother is down-to-earth and tough-minded.) She and Liriel could bond over this, while at the same time, learning just how cold and intolerant Katriel was would make her appreciate how loving and accepting her own mother is despite their differences.

*If Katriel is Liriel’s mother, then the shadow of the dead father can add to their conflict. I imagine him as a jerk who cheated on her throughout their brief marriage; in their daughter’s free spirit and stubbornness, she would see too much of him, and she would reject Liriel's desire to marry for love because her own marriage for love went so sour. I also imagine she might resent Liriel for making her unable to remarry, because no royals or noblemen on the marriage market wanted to raise another man’s child.

*An aloof older sister queen/free-spirited younger sister princess pairing might remind people too much of Frozen’s Elsa and Anna, albeit more dysfunctional.

*A rebellious “spare to the throne” who becomes estranged from their dutiful older sibling might feel too much like a female Prince Harry.

*A woman rejecting her daughter for being trapped in the form of an ugly beast would probably be much more appalling and heartbreaking than her rejecting her sister for the same reason.

Pros of Sister/Cons of Mother

*Conflict between sisters, especially between ladylike sisters and gender non-conforming sisters, is just as time honored as mother/daughter conflicts. They’d essentially be like an age-inverted Amy and Jo March, or like Sansa and Arya Stark, albeit if they had no other siblings and one had to raise the other.

*Shanna has two sisters too, and though they’re not mean the way Beauty's sisters traditionally are (and are younger than Shanna instead of older), Shanna still struggles with seeing them as “perfect” compared to herself. That commonality of “perfect” sisters would give her and Liriel something to bond over.

*Megan Kearney’s BatB webcomic has already given the Beast/Prince an abusive single mother in his backstory.

*The traditionalist mother/free-spirited daughter conflict might remind people too much of Elinor and Merida in Brave: especially because they’re royalty, part of their conflict stems from Liriel resisting an arranged marriage, and one of them is eventually turned into an animal.

*The “shadow of the dead father” aspect of their conflict could be expanded into “shadow of the dead parents.” Katriel-as-Liriel's-sister would have more memories of their parents than Liriel does and have been strongly affected by their father’s cheating and their mother’s misery. Hence “Don’t be wild like Dad and don’t throw your life away for passion like Mom.” Their mother could also have died giving birth to Liriel, which would add to Katriel’s resentment.

*I’d probably succeed better in making Katriel complex and not too evil if she were Liriel's sister instead of her mother. I don’t want her to be all bad, but deeply flawed parents are hard to write without demonizing them, because it’s such a triggering subject. We see this again and again when fandoms vilify even mildly flawed parent characters and refuse to see the nuances the author gave them.

*Seeing Liriel's mother throw her out after she’s cursed might be especially triggering for LGBT+ teen readers, even though she’s not thrown out because she’s LGBT+; her sister throwing her out would still hurt, but wouldn’t be triggering in the same way.

I wouldn't mind taking a vote: should Katriel be Liriel's sister, or her mother?

#my writing #a beast's rose #wlw beauty and the beast #input needed #tw: parental abandonment #lgbt+ fantasy novel

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betweentheracks · 4 years ago

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LGBTQ+ and Queer Operated/Founded Brands

A composite list of some of the notable brands I have worked with or been in contact with throughout my time as a stylist. Rooted in queer communities, founded by LGBTQ+ designers, and dedicated to pursuing gender inclusive styles as well as providing an uplifting community committed to showcasing the talents of LGBTQ+ persons. A number of these also have a deal of activity in supporting POC or black owned and operated fashion brands and design studios.

Otherwild: Los Angeles, California.

Queer identified and woman-owned, Otherwild was established in 2012. It is a store, design studio, and event space. They offer apparel and accessories, as well as lo/no-waste home cleaning products and personal care products. Very grassroots and have a foundation of ethics and sustainability, working in earnest to establish a countercultural relationship to exploitative, extractive, and excessive consumer capitalist culture. They’re quite cost-effective with fair pricing on their range of products.

Rebirth Garments: Chicago, Illinois.

Entirely gender non-conforming, Rebirth Garments caters specifically to all non-binary, trans, and disabled. Their clothing line is custom made upon order, touting a distinct lack of standard sizes since part of their mission and manifesto is to tailor their styles to exactly the consumer’s specifications regardless of body type. Their party line is “Radical Visibility” and have a zine under the same name; their manifesto expressed as a desire to establish and nurture a community of people that have been excluded from mainstream fashion but are still deserving of an outlet to feel confident in expressing pride in the intersections of identity. Their materials are all vibrant and wild, bold and exuberant as a means to challenge the ableist and sizest ideals of mainstream fashions which still centers on gender and binary conforming styles. -- They also offer virtual lessons on accessibility, entrepreneurship, and much more.

Automic Gold: New York City, New York.

Queer owned and queer operated all inclusive jewelry, Automic Gold promotes their products as the most comfortable and versatile jewelry available. The founder is genderqueer and makes a point to create truly genderless accessories and does so with designs that specifically mix and warp the essence of masculinity and femininity, bringing together that which is both outside and inside to form that which is beyond. Sustainable and eco-friendly, all of their jewelry is made from reclaimed gold and 100% recyclable material. Automic Gold is the only known jeweler that carries rings in sizes 2 to 16 and utilize this point to shade the fashion industry for being so constrained by sizing standards.

Wildfang: Los Angeles, California/Portland, Oregon.

Women found, women run, women oriented. Wildfang is seated in the belief that women can and should wear whatever they want and be whatever they want. They give much of their profits to charities and organizations that center on the rights of the oppressed communities, namely queer, reproductive, and immigrant activism. Their collections offer full suits tailored to a female body, workwear made of truly durable materials to outlast even the worst of working conditions, and button ups that won’t gap at the boobs and are not super form-fitting. They promote the sort of modern feminism that holds no underlying toxic ideals of woman’s superiority, and works in the name of women having their rights unrestricted so that they can live their fullest lives with a true sense of self and self-worth alike.

STUZO CLOTHING: Los Angeles, California.

Steeped in the ideals of love, people, and life STUZO celebrates existence without emphasis on identity. Women owned and black owned, STUZO offers apparel with no gender bias with designs meant to invoke thought and feeling; an experience of the self, expressed without boundary. STUZO looks at clothing as being without life and therefore cannot be limited by borders of gender; textiles worn and filled out by consumers breathing life into them.

PYRAMID SEVEN: Chicago, Illinois.

A niche brand; they provide boxer briefs for periods, not gender. Their philosophy and belief is that regardless of where you fall on the gender spectrum or identify yourself as, if you menstruate you should be wearing their briefs. Designed with comfort and protection in mind, PYRAMID SEVEN briefs offer assurance that there is no longer a need to worry about leakage or bagginess - discomfort does not exist in their brand. These briefs are made to be used either in tandem with menstrual products of all kinds or even for free bleeding, it’s all at behest to comfort during an uncomfortable time. They are also advocates of privacy and neither reveal themselves too freely nor make comments on their consumer base, only expressing the validity of their representation being that of all who menstruate.

Fluide: Brooklyn, New York.

Beauty brand founded by a mother’s goal to establish a gender-expansive beauty line to celebrate under-represented faces and voice, supporting young people’s self-expression and creativity. Fluide is queer oriented and offers a full range of vegan/cruelty free cosmetics for all skin tones + types and gender expression. Their belief is that makeup is joyful, transformative, and meant to be inclusive of all with a wish of being expressive and to invent themselves as they want to be seen. They are a platform of queer voices showcasing queer beauty and work with many LGBTQ+ non-profits and advocate for revolutionizing the world of fashion and all of it’s mainstream conception of beauty standards and create a style space of authenticity.

Official Rebrand: New York City, New York.

A unique brand founded by a non-binary artist, Official Rebrand revives discarded clothing and remakes designs by breathing life back into what was unwanted. The mastermind behind the concept paints or otherwise alters (rebrands) items that have been cast aside and turns them into works of art which in turn proposes an anti-waste alternative. The rebranding process strips clothing of their proposed gender categories and promotes the fluidity of identity. Official Rebrand dominates the medium where art and fashion overlap, reintroducing his pieces without any sense of today’s arbitrary societal constraints.

PHLEMUNS: Los Angeles, California.

Black and queer owned/operated, PHLEMUNS is a non-binary all inclusive brand that seeks to merge elements of nostalgia and modern contemporary fashion. With a goal of bridging the gap between high fashion and every day communities, this brand takes what is called a slow-fashion approach to their designs and crafts meticulously and intentionally on styles meant to be seen as accessible, inclusive, and wholly unisex. This is a brand which exists in the grey areas of society, fashion, and thrives on the idea of intersecting identity.

NO SESSO: Los Angeles, California.

The brand name itself is Italian for “no sex/gender” and the fashion it produces truly encompasses this meaning. This is a fashion house that cranks out collections specifically targeting conventions of art, fashion, and culture. Their lines offer ranges in color, fabrics, prints, and reconstructed materials but their true signature is hand embroidery. Much of their collections are made from upcycled fabrics and materials found at flea markets and make use of patchwork designs as a motif of their community-based foundations. Think streetwear but couture, and this is what NO SESSO is defined by.

gc2b: Maryland, USA.

Trans-owned, founded, and operated. gc2b produced the first chest binder and snapped off transitional apparel and established themselves as the first gender-affirming company in the industry. The credence of the company is comfortable, safe, and accessible binding options designed by trans people for trans people and to accomodate the vast spectrum of humanity. gc2b has donated over 6000 binders to those in need and sponsors over 100 LGBTQ+ organizations while working extensively with LGBTQ+ communities and charities to raise funds and awareness.

Likely I will revise this post from time to time and update the listing.

I really like being able to use my position as a platform to provide notice of undervalued communities within the fashion industry and world of style. I have often purchased outright and incorporated many key pieces of some of my most notable styles and ensembles from LGBTQ+ brands that deserve recognition and think of it as a soft promotion of their talent and falls within the conduct my company expects me to abide.

Originally I did intend to have links in this post to make checking them out easier, but I was having some issues with tumblr being crotchety and had to forgo them sadly. Still, I encourage anyone interested to take a peek at their online sites or social medias - they’re all very lovely and inspirational!

#racks chats #lgbt fashion #lgbt brands #style

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bubbelpop2 · 4 years ago

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Gay and Tumblr etiquette: a guide

This is a compilation of rules that keep the lgbt community a safe space for all. A lot of the older gays are getting sick of seeing recycled bigotry, and we’re here to tell you what the general opinions are in the real world. Some of the content in this post contains not necessarily gay content, but cay culture. Gay culture is all about the lack of heteronormative toxicity, the promotion of critical thinking, teaching the youth that they need to rely on themselves and friends instead of the government, because the government doesn’t really care, and the abolition of White Christian ethics being forced onto people.

You need to read this essay. [x] You need to know your history. It’s important, you need to know it. This is the baseline you need to know. ACAB.

If you want to know more than just the baseline: [ here ]

Don’t debate transphobes, racists, or n@zis. Don’t debate them, block them. Do not reply. You are giving them a place to express themselves. This emboldens closeted racists and transphobes. Don’t do it.

If you disagree with someone who isn’t any of the above, carefully consider their argument. Could they be right? Is it a lesson that you’re just not ready for? Block them, ponder their words, and consider your stance on the subject. Only a fool walks away from an argument more convinced than ever that they are correct.

Pedophiles are not in the lgbt community. Pedophilia is not a kink nor is it a sexuality. It has been proven to be a mental illness in which the brain is shaped and ordered incorrectly.

“Queer” Is not an inherently harmful term. It is a term that the community has reclaimed, and many people identify as queer. By calling someone who is queer “gay” or policing THEIR right to be called queer, you are erasing history. Queer is a term that people have used in the lgbt community since before stonewall. Queer isn’t your term to take away, especially if you’re not queer.

“Gay” Is an umbrella term. If someone LIKES being called “gay”, no matter what the complex rules of their attraction are, respect it. Don’t insist that they belong in a certain box according to your definition of different sexualities.

If someone is questioning their sexuality, don’t push them. The point is for them to FIND OUT what they’re attracted to, and what they like best. Whether they turn out to be gay, straight, bi, or ace, leave them the hell alone. Especially if they’re a kid.

“Terfs” used to be called “political lesbians” because people who were not wlw would take over lgbt spaces and advocate to “kill all men” and would point actual wlws against men. This is terrible. Bisexual wlws deserve to express their sexuality fully without judgement. Trans lesbians deserve to express their gender without judgement. ANYBODY who is amab or trans, or attracted to amab or trans people, deserves a safe place to express themselves. We got rid of these “political lesbians” and stopped them from poisoning the minds of bisexuals and trans men. We can do it again.

(” queer is a slur “ was started by terfs. stop saying it if you’re not a terf.)

Nonbinary is not a fad. Nonbinary people have always existed. It is not new, and you are not allowed to police other people’s gender.

There are a lot of things to gender as a whole. Your gender, what you identify as, is a large part of your identity. Some people identify as female, some people identify as male, and some people identify as neither, both, or any combination of any other genders! This may be confusing, but that’s okay. You don’t need to completely understand someone’s gender, and someone may not even understand their own! What IS important is that you respect their gender expression.

Gender expression is mostly just two things. Pronouns, and Presentation. Pronouns (He/She/They/Xhey/Ect) are for the person who has them. Pronouns don’t have to “match” your gender. Your presentation doesn’t have to “match” your gender, either. It’s all about your comfort. You don’t have to understand someone’s gender identity, but you DO have to respect their name and pronouns. Always.

Mogai is a great term, even if it’s not popular. Mogai is an all-inclusive term for all people who are not allocishet.

Being ace does not make you straight. Being aro does not make you straight. Straight = You are actively and wholly attracted to the opposite gender. It is the lack of attraction to the opposite gender that includes them in the community, as well as the constant harassment from both straight and gay people for being “broken”

“Femboy” Is not an inherently harmful term. Calling a trans woman a “Femboy” without her permission is. People who use the term to refer to themselves, or to refer to people who are comfortable with the term, are not infringing upon anybody. You need to stop taking away terms from gay people because of what transphobic pieces of shit do. Yes, shitty transphobes refer to trans women in porn as femboys. This doesn’t mean that who the term was ORIGINALLY meant for, which is, gay feminine men, can’t use it to describe themselves. This is far too similar to “queer is a slur” for me to change my mind on this. A lot of people identify as femboys, and use the term for their comfort, leave them alone.

Truscum and Trumeds are gross. Their entire personality is built off of policing other trans people’s identities. They want trans people to act like they’re cis, and conform to heteronormative societal standards. Their opinion is that it’s flamboyant trans people’s fault that cis people are transphobic. Which is simply not true. Transphobes are Transphobes because they’re bigots. It is never, in any shape or form, the fault of the oppressed for being oppressed. Ever.

Your love for the oppressed should come before your hatred of the oppressor. This does not mean that you expressing your hatred is “performative” in any way. You’re allowed to hate the oppressor, verbally, and often, so long as you, personally, know which is more important.

It is not okay to call people out. Calmly talking to people, or simply blocking them, is best. It is not okay to send hate anons. It is not okay to interact with bigots willingly. It is not okay to do something that is mean-spirited.

Be gay do crimes. (As in, fuck the police, they’ve always been against every minority. Including us.)

Disabled people are beautiful and loved. All gay spaces should be accessible.

The people that lead the protest that sparked lgbt rights across the world were black trans women. Remember that. Remember it good and well.

Autism isn’t shameful. People with autism are worthy of respect and admiration.

Punk culture is antifa and gay culture. Bigots like punk fashion, and dress in punk fashion. We call these people “posers” and they should be beaten if spotted being a bigot at a punk function. Punk culture is all about being against the systemic oppression of the lower class and marginalized. Many punks go to protests for human rights and better work qualities.

It is neve okay to police someone else’s identity. Period.

It is never okay to police someone’s kinks. Pay attention to actual abusers and rapists, not fictional and 100% consensual scenarios.

Child touchers get their heads bashed in with baseball bats.

It’s not okay to bully people for shipping anything. Yes, anything, including abusive ships. Quit telling people to kill themselves over fictional people. What you SHOULD be worried about, is straight white boys who romanticize REAL abuse towards REAL people, not people just minding their own business and expressing themselves via FICTIONAL characters. Don’t tackle ships, tackle rape culture in real life. Go outside.

It is never okay to police someone’s writing, art, or artistic expression. Yes, dark and violent content included. The idea that you can be punished for thoughts or expression of thoughts, regardless of if you’ve ACTUALLY harmed anyone, is white and Christian purity culture. If you think this is okay, read this: [x]

The above is in the same mindset of soccer moms that say “people who play video games are inherently violent” which is simply not true at all. Here’s an interesting post on a similar topic that will interest you: [x]

Just follow lace code. Doc martens have a lace code in the punk community, If you’re not a racist, follow the lace code.

mosh pit etiquette [x]

more about gay punk: [x]

That’s all I could think of for now! Any other queer elders wanna have a stab at it?

#queer #queer culture #old queer culture #witch #old lgbt culture #lgbt #shut up bubbz

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codylabs · 4 years ago

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My Top 10 Ships

I’m not a very romantic sort of guy, I’m not real forgiving to departures from canon, I get easily annoyed at inconsistencies, and I don’t watch much television and movies, so in order for me to ship something, it has to be a GOOD ship. I default toward rejecting ships, so to impress ME, it must be built on logic, and evidence, it’s gotta be something I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept. And it’s gotta have story behind it, something deep, some hefty emotional weight; if it doesn’t tickle this man’s cold reptilian heart with strong beats and excellent writing, it goes straight to the trash. I absoLUTELY will not stand for any of these weird little cute, pretty, pandering, trashy crack ships that everybody seems to be clumsily throwing characters into. Most ships are trash ships. They are not good ships.

You think your ship is good? You like your ship?

You ship it?

No you don’t.

Get out of here.

You will listen to me. I will tell you. Look at me. I’m the Captain now.

Here are the 10 good ships.

10. The Rocinante, The Expanse

A resoundingly excellent ship. Unlike most ships you see out there, this thing was actually designed with realistic space combat in mind. It’s got 6 computer-controlled gatling turrets covering every angle, it accelerates in whatever direction it’s pointing, its bridge is right in the center to put as much armor as possible between enemies and crew, overall a much better-designed vehicle than most everything you see about.

That being said, I didn’t have much connection to this ship. Its crew weren’t really interesting, the aesthetic was kinda bleak, and I basically stopped watching after the phazon showed up. And the Rocinante itself has pretty poor redundancy. Enemy bullets can literally just pass through it (as is realistic for a ship this size) so how about multiple main engines huh? Absolutely tragic oversight. And its interior looks too much like an Apple product. How are you supposed to work on it? Where are the wires and pipes??? The handholds?????

9. Ares IV M.A.V., The Martian

Almost more of a symbol than a ship. A symbol of freedom, of escape. A beautiful symbol. This is what Mark Watney spends the whole movie trying to reach, with an entire world backing him up, and an entire world trying to stop him. It’s the goal of the movie, and it just looks so beautiful when he finally reaches it and sees it sitting there in the middle of the desert, ass down, nose up; a tall, proud symbol. This ship has a special significance for me because the author of the original book really did his research on the scientific requirements and details of a Mars Ascent Vehicle, and it was actually inspired by the E.R.V. in another book, ‘A Case For Mars’, which I read when I was younger. “Makes its own methane-oxygen fuel on-site by using nuclear power to break down CO2 in the atmosphere and combining it with stored hydrogen, don’t you know.” I say as I adjust my spectacles and puff my pipe.

The M.A.V. in the movie does have a few issues, such as hallway and rooms running straight up through where the fuel tanks ought to be (instead of a lift/ladder on the exterior) and a rugged, industrial aesthetic that looks too heavy and cumbersome for a ship of its type. (And you’re seriously telling me he couldn’t have used the capsule’s RCS to literally bypass the movie’s entire climax? WHY NOT? The book never mentioned him having to drain the monopropellant!!!) But I’ll let that slide. Great movie.

8. Biggest Boy, The Greatship

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name. You know what, I think it’s actually just called the Greatship.)

So it’s a starship the size of Jupiter, empty, unmanned, perfectly mysterious, that comes gliding into the galaxy a couple million years into humanity’s future. Where did it come from? Who made it and how? Good questions. It’s powered by matter-antimatter annihilation reactions from within planet-sized internal tanks, and its engines use hydrogen and fusion exhaust as reaction mass, and its hull is made of hyperfiber, a super-strong fictional material with a 4-dimensional lattice structure, able to weather impacts by spreading them out over various dimensions where the impact occurred in a different place.

I hope that after the first few entries, you didn’t get the impression that I am somehow against futuristic, far-out, impossible technologies. Quite the opposite! I love me some hyperdrive and anti-gravity and A.I. and stuff. However! Ships must be well-designed for the technology available, and must take no creative liberties except those explicitly allowed by the difference in the setting. The laws of physics don’t disappear when the magic crystals come out, the magic crystals are merely a different tool to combat them. Engineering will always exist, should start with the tools and work outward, form follows function. Star Wars ships, for instance, are trash because they don’t mount their repulsorlift arrays consistently, they’re not aerodynamic, and their engines aren’t aligned around their center of masses.

So I like the Great Ship. Although the story is pretty far-fetched, and a lot of crazy, out-there scifi events transpire deep in the ship’s depths, the book always strictly kept its own rules in mind, and never broke those rules, no matter how outlandishly crazy things got. Thanks for comprehending something so incomprehensible, Robert Reed. You inspired me miles in my own work.

7. The Ghost, The Sea Wolf

The story may be fiction, but the Ghost was as real as ghosts can be.

Jack London did his research. No, not research, he LIVED this. The Ghost is a seal-hunting schooner much like one that he served aboard during his rollercoaster of a life, and he captured every detail of its operation, of its requirements, of its mechanics, and of the incredible toll it took on the people that lived such a life. The boat is made to feel as oppressive and claustrophobic as a prison, as if it were an extension of the monster that commanded it, directly in contrast to the expansive beauty of the sea around them. My goodness, what a beautiful book. What a moving, interesting, challenging book, with such a story! This book is one of the climaxes of fiction, and one of the inspirations for Shifting Sands, if I remember correctly. I would recommend this book to anybody. Beautiful.

6. Ferbnessa, Phineas and Ferb

Okay, so I hope we can all agree that Vanessa is nothing but bad news. But that being said, Ferb knows exactly the relationship he wants, and by golly, he goes for it. Most male characters would stutter or get nervous or lose confidence around their crush, especially if that crush is about a hundred miles out of their league or if they already had another boyfriend, but Ferb? No. Not my man Ferb. He’s slighly too much of a legend to fall for such childish pitfalls. He doesn’t posture, he doesn’t creep or flirt or try to sabotage the other men in her life, he doesn’t even speak a word, he just maintains his blank expression, cranks his own already-inhuman levels of confidence and competence up through the roof to borderline olympian levels, and continues being himself. These rare moments of Ferbly passion are some of the few open windows we get into the grandiose machinations of his mysterious mind, and he uses it to bring out the best in Vanessa as well. And in the future episode, set years down the line, wouldn’t you know it, they’re a pair.

All joking aside though, this whole ship is basically comedy. It’s a super small part of the show, it’s only in like 5 episodes, it’s a running gag, it’s hilarious. It’s great. And it fits right into the tone and the feel of the show, because P&F’s entire world really is a comedy about going for it and living your dreams. So this is just the best thing ever. It’s been about a decade since then, and I still burst out laughing at how much of a pristine picture of ideal masculinity Ferb is. Become like Ferb, boys, and you will become men.

Legendary.

Eat your heart out, Dipper.

3. Shunk, Voltron

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

Huge props to the voltron team for making a female alien character (even a romantic interest) with NO BOOBS. Do you have ANY idea how sick and tired I am of artists throwing a big ol’ pair of balonkadongs onto lobsters and snakes when almost everything in the real world besides folks and cows have either 0 or 8+ of them? Everything’s gotta be traditionally sexy and recognizably-feminine and GREAT now you just canonized all the porn! Disgusteg

but now look at Shay. She’s a rock person. She’s got silicon-based biology, she probably weighs 500 lbs and bleeds sand. She’s got enormous hands and weird knees and no nose and lumps everywhere, AND YET STILL the show plays all the tropes 100% straight with her being a fair young maiden and a sweet princess. And it works because Hunk is just this great guy who’s exactly as sweet and caring, and he’s not the most attractive of the Paladins either, so he probably lives his life looking past appearances. He doesn’t care that she’s an alien rock, he cares about her as a person, and she obviously worships him right back. Even though Shay is shown in season 1 and then never again until season 7, Hunk still avoids alternative romantic entanglements, citing ‘a rock I know’, and it just adds to his persona as this infinitely loyal teddy bear. I tip my hat to this, the single ship I know that’s 0% sexy and 100% wholesome.

And Hunk is the best Paladin. He’s just the greatest. I revere him. I salute him as he walks past. This man among men. Look at this guy. I don’t even care about any of the other ships in Voltron (I mean, the Castle of Lions is okay, but it’s outriggers are kinda spindly) but Hunk and Shay deserve each other.

4. Wendip, Gravity Falls

So Dipper’s 12/13, and Wendy’s 15. That’s a pretty giant age difference. Maybe you fans have fooled yourselves into thinking it’s not, but it is. She knows it. He knows it. His sister knows it. Your mom knows it. So halfway through the show, when he finally got around to confessing his feelings to her, she told him no. Sure they’re still friends, sure they like each other, and sure they have a lot of chemistry and they still have a movie night every Friday, but at the end of the day, he’s a smelly little midget who has to go back to California at the end of the Summer, and she’s a older girl with approximately zero romantic feelings for him. So the notion that it could work out is pretty obvious to everyone, and especially to him, pretty much hopeless. And he really did handle it all pretty poorly and immaturely too, he objectified her and stalked her and simped up a storm and sabotaged her boyfriend, so perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps it’s better this way.

And yet.

And yet Wendy never really got a happy ending in the show. And Dipper never got a conclusive romance either. So after everything, it’s easy to think about it how he thinks about it, by wondering how things could have been, if everything were just so slightly different, if she’d said yes or if they united again. She wishes she could be younger, he wishes he could be older. She’s more dominant, he’s more recessive. She has a lot of serious issues in her life, and could really seriously use a driven, heroic, intelligent friend to help her out, give her purpose, and steer her right. And Lord knows he could use somebody with street smarts and actual muscles to have his back now and again. They complement each other perfectly. They make up for each others’ weaknesses. They’re everything they ever wanted from another, and if you do the math, their children would be actual literal supersoldiers.

Or at least that’s the way a lot of people see it. There’s been immeasurable mountains of fanfiction and fanart from people who are just so sad that in a show full of happy endings and dreams coming true and old regrets being resolved and children growing up, that one ending would never be happy, one dream would never come to pass, one regret would stick with you forever, one child would never grow up. Maybe if you extrapolate out the story they’d end up together? Or maybe they’d find other, better partners? Maybe romance isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and this is the best ending there could have been? Perhaps, perhaps not. But in any case, there’s a lot of very rich storytelling potential for the untold journey before them, and for the paths that could have been.

Stop drawing fetish art of Wendy, you insufferable heathen actual donkeys.

3. Kataang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now HERE’S a serious relationship. Not just a romantic ship, (though it is that,) not just some cutesy, funny thing or some ship-war fodder, (though it is cute and funny and did spawn a ship-war,) not just a matter of certainty and destiny, (though it is certain and was destined,) this is a real, TANGIBLE relationship, that these characters built together over a solid year of on-screen adventuring and fighting. They’ve helped each other through trauma, they’ve been there for each other in their darkest moments, they learned martial-arts together, they’ve fought back-to back against grown men, they’ve worked front-to-front sawing through steel girders, they’ve saved each other’s lives, he once ACTUALLY DIED and she brought him BACK. They end up respecting each other, and valuing each other in the intimate way that only true friends do.

And they’re shown working through all their imperfections and mistakes too. Aang sometimes oversteps boundaries and says stupid stuff because he’s a kid, and Katara sometimes scolds him and controls him because she’s motherly and orderly, they get jealous of each other, but none of those things drive them apart, and they deal with them, and they conquer them, and they keep a very legitimate and multi-faceted friendship going, and that’s the key to it all. The fact that this friendship becomes romance is just proof that it was a friendship of quality.

I think people tend to overlook or forget this ship because the last few episodes of the show found them in a pretty dark place, needing to deal with matters of life and death and justice in very different ways, and unlike all their other issues, we don’t really get to see them reconciling these differences before the story ends, which kind of leaves a sour taste between them. And Katara goes on a couple missions with Zuko around the same time, so now half of all people want Zutara, when in actuality, Zutara is a trash ship, which is a true science fact.

2. Serenity, Firefly

Only reason this ship isn’t #1 is because it isn’t constructed using a proper aerospace philosophy; it’s made of bulky machinery and steel beams and chunky plates, it looks more like an ocean vessel from the inside, and is WAY too big for its 6-12 person crew and light cargo capacity. Plus it doesn’t have any room for fuel and its got no wheels on its landing legs and no downward-facing windows and its reactor is just too dang SMOL and its engines are attached too flimsily. This all wouldn’t be too much of an issue if they were going for a far-future aesthetic, but if you’re trying to do something grounded and semi-contemporary, you need to lose some weight girl, I’m sorry.

But by gosh does it make up for it in heart. The entire inside of this ship was mapped out and made on set, with so many homely little decorations and touches to make every room feel like the person who inhabits it, sterile professional blue for the doc’s medbay, warm happy red for Kaylee’s engine room, all-serious-business-but-also-plastic-dinos for Wash’s cockpit... It hit me hard when this baby it crashed in the movie, and it felt almost real when River pretended to mind-meld with it. This ship has more soul in one buffer panel than most shows have in the entire cast, enough to make it seem like its own character, even in a show crowded with charming characters. I love this ship intimately, even if I would have built it differently.

1. Colonial Vessel 46.18′\, Gravity Falls

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

You didn’t think I’d leave out this one, did you? After all the fanfiction I’ve written? This is basically my ship at this point. Anyway, enough about me; the vessel beneath Crash Site Omega really is the quintessential alien ship; its perfectly cliche flying-saucer design taps into all the audience’s pre-existing fanciful notions and imaginings and disbelief-suspension, meanwhile its presentation isn’t cliche or fanciful in the slightest.

There’s not much to say about it from a technical standpoint, besides personal musings: it would need anti-gravity to stay airborne without thrusters, it would need a FTL drive to cross the distances it did, its drones would need to be made of some kind of semi-liquid to move like they do... But these sort of out-of-the-box, never-before-seen, world-expanding brain-knocks are exactly what makes this ship special. It’s an alien ship, built with technology unknown to people, forged from materials that people don’t possess, and inhabited by beings we will never meet. For all we know, this ship could be perfectly sound from an engineering standpoint, and no engineer in the audience could claim to prove it otherwise, because unlike something like the T.A.R.D.I.S., they never try and fail to explain it away with science buzzwords or canonize its details or show off some fancy glowy reactor. This ancient husk is left as a yawning pit in reason, and that’s beautiful.

Moreover, this ship is an amazingly powerful narrative tool, and a mind-blowing surprise to drop in as a setpiece during the show’s final episodes. This ship embodies everything that made the show’s mysteries special: the evidence presented so early and so consistently, the creativity in creature design, action, and worldbuilding, the yawning depths of unknowable lore, and most of all the burning, unquenched desire to know more... The imprint this ship made in the cliffs over the town has been hanging over the characters’ heads the entire series, and its hull was below their feet from day one, so when they finally revealed it, and explored it, it felt invigorating. Rewarding. This ship, and the glorious feelings and thoughts it represents, have inspired to no end, and haven’t ended yet.

Honorable mentions:

Westley and Buttercup, The Princess Bride

Ooooh man I tell you what, it was really hard trimming this down to 10 for the list, and this one just barely didn’t make the cut, and that mainly because I have a sweet spot for animation and for warrior women, and this sweetness ain’t animated, and this damsel is as distressed as they get. And they don’t have a whole lot of chemistry? I don’t know how to measure that, but I feel like there was a lot of friendship stated that was never shown? Is it sacrilege to say that about True Love? I guess I’ve never exactly had True Love, so what do I know?

The entire plot centers around his devotion to her, and her love for him, and the lengths they go to for one another. He studies fencing and wrestling and wits and tactics for years on a pirate ship as he tried to return to her, and she refused the advances and the offers of an actual prince for as long as she could, even though she thought him dead, and was ready to kill herself when she knew him to be alive and not to be hers. And just such excellent action and characters and humor and story in the entire book surrounding it. Possibly an even better movie, somehow. Happy happy happy happy. They don’t make movies like this no more, why is that? Sad.

Endurance, Interstellar

Actually a pretty realistic design, all considering. They nailed the aesthetic, and the cinematography, and the feel.

It does lose points though, firstly because the shuttlecraft require a booster stage to make it into orbit when leaving Earth, but for the rest of the movie, whenever they’re landing on planets with similar gravity and atmosphere, they can just fly away like it’s no big deal, which is a big inconsistency, both with real life, and more importantly with itself. And how did an under-equipped and struggling space program put this thing in orbit in the first place, anyway? And why don’t their ships land on their asses like proper rockets? And why not tell the crew members the full plan before leaving? See, it’s little things like that, little inconsistencies made for the sake of fitting with story beats and simplifying it for the audience’s sake, that sours this ship for me. I don’t mind creative liberties, but actual plot holes? This thing has a few plot holes, and plot holes are absolutely yucky. So although most of this ship is very yummy, the yucky parts make it all yucky.

Yucky.

Plus its heavy cargo shuttles are about the least-aerodynamic things imaginable, and that’s also yucky, and there’s porcelain tiles in the stasis bay, like what?

Couldashouldawoulda been yummy.

The Hermes, The Martian

This ship. This friggin’ ship.

A beautiful ship. A well-conceived ship. A mathematically sound and engineered ship. It had so many many good ideas behind it. So much math went into calculating its thrust and orbital dynamics for this movie, so much work went into making it fit a contemporary space aesthetic, the panels, the heat sinks, the tanks, so much PRESENTATION I could KISS IT HMWA, but taken as a whole, engineering-wise, the whole ship falls flat on its face, because it just doesn’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. Look at all those countless modules along its length. What do they do? They don’t do anything! It’s a quarter mile long, and it’s built for only 6 people? It’s meant to carry a lander? Where does the lander dock? Why are the useful airlocks so far off the center of gravity? Why does it have a cockpit? Why is the forward airlock so looooong? Why is the entire ship so loooooong? Why is the ring spinning so slowly? It’s not hard math to figure out how fast it needs to spin! You’re telling me you did ORBITAL DYNAMICS but not the SINGLE physics 101 equation needed to figure out how fast the ring needs to spin??

Btw, let’s talk about that rotating section in the middle! Think about the rotating section! That rotating section means that the front and the back of the ship aren’t actually connected! There’s just a pair of ring-shaped slip-slidey bearings bridging the ship’s middle, slip-slidey bearings that electricity, computer signals, and water and air pipes can’t cross. Why did they design it that way?? In the book the entire ship spun, which makes so much more sense! Why does it have solar panels when it has a reactor canonically capable of 40 times their output? Why are the fuel tanks so small? Why is it always facing prograde even when canonically burning retrograde? Why? WHY? BLRRRRGGGGGRGGGRGGG

In Conclusion, Ships Are Neat

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psycheswritings · 5 years ago

Text

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Two

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Original Female Character (Daphne Scott)

Warnings: Swearing and mentions of violence (not too much, tough)

Word Count: 4245

Author's Note: Happy New Year, everyone. Here's another part of Daphne and Thomas story. Hope you all like it. I want to thank everyone who liked/commented on the previous part, it makes me very happy to know that you are enjoying it. I will try to uptade it every tuesday/wednesday.

A special thanks to @livvtheangel for the lovely feedback, it made me really happy.

As always, this haven’t been proofread, so feel free to report any mistakes back to me; warnings are expecific for each chapter. Also, your feedback is also highly appreciated.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy tries to discover more about Daphne while making the necessary arrangements for his deal with Solomons. In the meanwhile, Daphne meets some old friends that try to ease her worries about Alfie hiding things from her and starts to question her feelings towards the Brummie ganster.

Two

“What did you discovered?” Tommy asked to John when he entered the private room of the Garrison.

“Not much.” Arthur was right behind him, closing the door. They both took his sits before John started talking. “Her name is Daphne Jane Scott, she was born in London, same year as me, appeared in Camden Town with Solomons after the war. She lives with him since them, always worked at the bakery, they are usually together in social events but despite the rumors about them people in Camden Town seem to believe that they have a brother-sister relationship.” Tommy exhaled a puff of air and smoke seemed uninterested, even when he was the one who requested his brothers to do some research in Daphne’s past.

“Some people believe that she serve in France.” Arthur said catching Thomas attention.

“Can we try to locate her file?” John and Arthur shared a look, before the first spoke.

“We can try, but if Solomons is really that invested in her I believe that it won’t be easy.”

“Do it, anyways. It doesn’t matter if it takes some time.”

“Tommy, why are you so interested in this girl?” Arthur asked, toking a sip of his whisky. “I mean, she is beautiful and all but you could have any other woman.” Thomas didn’t answer right away because even he was not sure why he was interested in the woman. After the whole ordeal with Grace, he should want to avoid mysterious woman but Daphne had something that he couldn’t explain.

“There’s something about her...” He got up, putting his jacket before speaking. “Find the file and bring it to me.” After he left, Arthur and John looked at each other, intrigued by his behavior.

#* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #* #

“You are worried.” His voice startled Daphne out of her thoughts and she raised her eyes to look at the man in question. From her spot at the door, she could observe him working – William was still with his scrub, organizing a few things in his office on a secluded area of the hospital, it was more modest than what you would expect of the eldest son of one of the most influential families in London.

He was a beautiful man – tall, lean but strong, a beard well-kept adorning his face, brown curly hair a little unruly and a pair of deep blue eyes that made all the women gasp at the sight of him – but what really got Daphne every time was his kindness. For a man born in one of the richest families in London, William was more down to earth than anybody could expect. Despite their bickering when they first met each other, the pair developed a strong friendship along the years. He was one of the few people that really knew her and her history.

“It’s nothing.” William laughed at that while closing the cabinet of medications right behind his desk.

“Nothing? That’s why you didn’t paid attention to anything I’ve said since you arrived here? I just said to you that Jane is going to marry and you said that it was a shame!” He looked at her with a half-smile and she couldn’t hold her own smile back, shaking her head in the process.

“I’m sorry. It’s just business, it will be over soon.” At least that was what she hoped, even when deep down Daphne had a feeling that things wouldn’t be so simple anymore. “Jane finally decided to end Charles misery, huh?” William sighed at that, stopping to take off his scrubs and replace it with his coat.

“In my opinion they are rushing into things but Charles received a proposal to go to America. I think that forced her to make her decision. Couldn’t think about all the American women swooning all over her fiancé.” Daphne smiled at her friend’s attitude because she knew that his constant bickering about the engagement of his sister and his best friend was just his way of showing older brother protectiveness. It always made her feel bittersweet, even more when she got to see the both Weston siblings together.

“Rush into things? They have been together for what, four years?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“You’re just worried that you’ll lose you little sister.” He held one hand to his heart faking a gasp.

“Now you wound me, Daphne Scott.” The young doctor walked to her, stopping right in front of the woman. “And you’re trying to redirect. Don’t go thinking that I forgot your stupid little excuse for why you’re so worried.” Daphne sighed. She should know better than to try hiding things from him.

“Come on. Let’s eat something and I will tell you what I can.” He smiled, seeming satisfied with her answer, closing the door behind them and offering his arm to her and the pair left the hospital towards one of the cafes near the area. They talked a little on the way there, little things about Jane and his family, and Daphne had some hope that he would forget about his inquiry at the office. She should have known better.

“Ok, now you tell me what’s bothering you so much. Alfie didn’t listened to you again, huh?” He looked at her from behind his cup of tea while taking a sip.

“When does he?” She answered, rolling her eyes much to William’s delight.

“Well, knowing him I’m pretty sure that he listens to you a lot more than any other person.” Daphne took a deep breath, looking at the people talking and laughing around them. She knew that it was true, Alfie did listened to her most part of the time, but sometimes he frustrated her to no ends with his stubbornness.

“He’s playing something that I’m not sure if he will be able to handle.”

“That bad?” There was a hint of concern in his question. William and Alfie had created some strange type of friendship over the years, most part for her sake, but the both of them always asked about one another.

“That’s the problem: I don’t know. He’s been keeping things from me, he thinks I didn’t notice but I did.” They stayed in silence while the waiter came to the table with their food.

“It will do you no good overthink about it. You will have to wait and see what happens.” She knew that he was right, but her mind never seemed to listen to her.

“I just hope that this doesn’t blow out on our faces.”

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“Next lad.” A man enters the office and stops right in front of Alfie’s desk. “Name?”

“Abbey Heath.”

“Abbey Heath. Profession?”

“Baker.”

“Good lad. Fill it out and fuck off.” The Jew gives the man a folded paper while Ollie throws an apron at him before he leaves. The scene repeats itself without many changes until one of them caught Alfie’s attention.

“Next lad. Name?”

“Billy Kitchen.”

“Billy Kitchen. Occupation?”

“Head baker.” The way he says it makes Alfie take his eyes off of the papers to look at him. The man has an air of defiance, holding his head high.

“Fill it out.” The gangster said with a forced half smile, throwing the paper on the desk for the man to take, Ollie gave him the apron on his way out. They observed the man leave and Ollie took a step towards his boss while Alfie talked to him and moved his glasses. “Ah, Tommy Shelby, mate. Never give power to the big man, what did I tell you? Hmm? Never give power to the big man. Did Daphne came back already?”

“No, she’s not back yet.” Alfie scratched his beard in thinking; maybe it was better if she did not came back in time.

“Hmm. Next lad.”

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“Tommy. Good to see you, mate.” The two man shook hands and Tommy noticed right away the lack of the feminine presence in the distillery.

“Alfie. What do you think?” They observed the men being organized in the bigger room by Billy Kitchen.

“Don’t know yet, man. Let’s give them the instructions, yeah.” They both entered the precinct, Alfie stood closer to the wall, arms crossed in front of him. It was a good place to observe how Tommy worked and it gave him a menacing vibe that could come handy. Tommy started pacing in front of the men while he lit a cigarette and started explaining how things would work.

“All right boys, you've now all been enrolled as bakers in the Aerated Bread Company of Camden Town. If anyone asks, that's what you do. You're bakers. The coppers in Camden Town are on our side but north or south, you show them that piece of paper. Tell them you've come down from north to find work. To break strikes. Tell them you're fascists if you have to. We're finding lodgings for you but for now, you'll sleep here in the bakery. Don't touch any of the bread, it'll most likely explode. Any questions?” One of the man raised his hand. “Yes?”

“I haven't even seen any bread.” He says looking around and laughing with the other men. Tommy looks at Alfie, clearing his throat and continuing to smoke his cigarette. Seconds pass before Alfie approaches the man that made the joke, Buddy. He just stares at him for a couple of seconds before striking the man standing beside with his cane before looking at Buddy again, cane still in hand. Silence filled the room.

“He'll wake up. Well, he won't have any teeth left but he will be a wiser man for it.” Tommy and Ollie were behind him, none of them seemed surprised by the attitude. “And the last thing he will remember is your funny little joke, won't he?” Alfie paused before shouting in the man’s face and start walking. “RIGHT! There are fucking rules here, yeah? Yeah. There are fucking rules, for a fucking reason. Quite simply, they have to be obeyed. All right? Rule number one: the distinction between bread and rum... IT'S NOT DISCUSSED. Rule number two: anything, right, that your superior officer says to you or any of your other fucking superior officers say to you, yeah? NOT DISCUSSED! Rule number three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... I don't care. For the rest of your fucking miserable, measly lives, yeah? Because I, like you, I am also a complete fucking sodomite.” In that moment, Daphne appeared at the entrance of the room, the men started to look at each other, not having the courage to talk but all intrigued by the woman. Alfie turned to look at her. Damn, the woman always seemed to arrive exactly on the time he needed her to. He recognized the question in her eyes but just ignored it because he knew she would play along. “Jewish women.” He said in a lower tone. “You do not go anywhere near them because Jewish women for you are off the fucking menu. I think that's fair.” He stopped talking and looked at Billy who was right in front of him for a minute. The self-titled ‘head-backer’ held his gaze for a moment before looking away. Alfie then turned to look at the man on the ground before looking at Tommy. “Hm... Oh, that's it then. Forgive me, I interrupted you.” The Jew walked away and stopped right beside Daphne. None of the men, besides Billy Kitchen, dared to look at them.

“Pick him up.” Tommy said motioning the man still unconscious on the ground, walking towards Billy Kitchen, talking to him in a whisper. “Get them out of here and make this fucking work.” They observed the man leave and Tommy took the opportunity to look at Daphne. She was dressed similarly as the day she appeared at the Garrison – a simple blue dress that ended a little bellow her knees, fitted at her waist but loose on the skirt, the neckline was a little open, showing the locket that she always seemed to be with – she caught his eye and smiled at him before Alfie directed them to his office, dismissing Ollie.

“How’s William?” That was the first thing Alfie asked when they entered his office. She raised her brows in question while Thomas closed the door.

“He’s fine. Send you his regards and asked to schedule dinner, said it has been a while.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s been a while.” He looked at Tommy, who stood beside Daphne, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, looking at the ground, and smiled. “Right, let’s talk business.”

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Ada was sitting in the living room when she heard the noise of the front door closing. Immediately she got up and took the gun from her purse, pointing it at the door right in the moment it opened. She was more than surprised to see Tommy entering with his peaky hat in hand. He laughed when he saw the gun in her hands, before closing the door behind him.

“You've got a key!”

“I kept a spare.” He shrugged.

“Give it to me.” Tommy smiled, throwing the key in the air and catching it while he walked towards his sister. Ada took the key from him and put it away at the same time that Tommy looked around before sitting in the spare seat.

“Could do with some paint, eh?”

“Yeah, when I decide.” She observes her brother picking a book from the pile on the ground, taking a look at it and putting it back down, before sitting back in her own chair, arms crossed in front of her, sighing. “What is it that you want, Tommy?”

“Just came by to say hello.”

“Huh. Tommy Shelby never goes anywhere for no reason.” He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Right. Daphne. Where did you met her?” Ada laughs, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

“What does it concern you?”

“I need to know more about her.” He simply said. It was true. Maybe not the whole truth, but true, anyways.

“To what? Fuck her and then leave her? She deserves better than that.” She knew she was pressing him but Ada needed to know his intentions towards the woman.

“She works for Solomons.” Tommy noticed that his sisters didn’t seemed surprised. He hoped to use Daphne’s connection to Alfie as an ace to make Ada talk but by her expression, she already knew that.

“I know.”

“Then tell me what you know about her.” The siblings stared at each other for a minute before Tommy pressed again. “I swear it’s for business.”

“I don’t know much, she is pretty reserved. We met in a café downtown. She comes from a wealthy family from the countryside, has medical training as a nurse, is well educated and works with Solomons as his treasurer.”

“Medical training?” The gangster looked at his sister, frowning.

“Yeah. Don’t know much more. She is almost worse than you when it comes to personal information. But she is a good woman.” Tommy wasn’t sure if Ada said that as a way to make him more interested in Daphne or as a warning that she didn’t deserved to be ruined by him. Probably both. “But there’s something more. You didn’t came all the way here just to ask about Daph, you could have learned a lot more about her in other ways. What is it?” It didn’t go unnoticed by him the use of a nickname, that could only mean that Daphne and his sister where more close than he predicted.

“I've got eight hundred pounds left in the Shelby Property fund. And I need somebody down here to look for suitable properties.”

“To rent?”

“Yes.”

“To poor people.” Tommy looks at her. “Ten to a room. No repairs, no water. And if they complain you just send Arthur and the boys around.” He looks around taking a deep breath. “You know, I give advice down at the library. Families, thrown on the street. It's men like you we're fighting.”

“Well, anyway, I was just passing.” He gets up and starts walking to the door. “Thanks for the tea.” Ada calls him before she can contain herself.

“Tommy?” He stops and turns to look at her. “There are always men outside, watching the house.”

“Yeah. Gangsters of the worst kind.” He mocks. “They're there to keep you safe.”

“No, there are others. They looks like coppers.”

“Well, they're on your side as well.”

“I don't have a fucking side.” Ada says annoyed.

“Ada, yes, you do. Anyway, if I thought there was no one watching the house, I couldn't sleep.” She looks at him taken by surprise but he cuts the moment short by leaving. “Cheerio then.” When the door closes behind him, Ada keeps staring at it for a long time. Of course that she knew that Tommy cared for her – for the whole family – but for him to admit it out loud was a rare occurrence nowadays. She couldn’t stop herself of thinking that maybe this had something to do with his sudden interest in Daphne.

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“You’ve been awfully quiet these days.” Daphne was leaning into the window-sill, looking out when he approached her, stopping right at her side.

“You know that I don’t like this time of the year.” Her eyes met his and Alfie recognizes the pain behind them.

“Aye, I know, your birthday. But this isn’t all.” He looked at her again before asking. “You still worried about Tommy?”

“Tommy, huh?” Alfie waved her off and she laughed at his antics. “Yeah, I’m still worried about it.”

“You shouldn’t. Everything’s going accord to the plan.” He looked at the almost empty streets of London trying to hide something from her that Daphne couldn’t put her finger on.

“And what’s the plan, Alfie?” Alfie didn’t answer right away. In fact, he did nothing to acknowledge her question but she waited nevertheless, observing as he changed his weight from one foot to another, the way he twitched his fingers… After some time he turned to look at her.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do. Why are you asking me that?” Her straight answer didn’t surprised him, considering all that they had come through together. Yet, it still felt like some king of punishment for lying to her.

“Because sometimes I wish you didn’t.” At that she turned to him completely.

“Where did that came from?” She knew that he was hiding something but confronting him directly never reached its intended purpose.

“Don’t worry about it, aye. Don’t listen to me, I’m just getting old and cranky.” That made Daphne smile, Alfie took a step closer to her, placing his large hands in both of her arms while looking at her. “I’m just worried about you.” Because of Tommy and his men – he didn’t needed to say it, she knew.

“I know how to fend for myself.”

“I know.” It’s been a while since they hugged each other but it always felt welcoming. Alfie draped his arms around Daphne’s smaller frame, resting his head on top of hers whilst she entwined her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his chest. “There are some days that I wish he was still alive. Keep thinking about what he would thought about it all.” The woman took a deep breath, closing her eyes, a flood of memories passing behind her eyelids.

“Me too, Alfie. Me too.”

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“There'll be another four boat loads tomorrow. What's up, Charlie? Business is good.” Tommy was leaning into a pile of boxes observing the men working with his uncle.

“This isn't business, this is bloody work. Cigarettes and booze is all right but this... this manufactured stuff, it's heavy. I'm not even sure it's stolen.” Charlie looked at his nephew a little unsure and Tommy just shook his head.

“Some of it is legally purchased. One day, all of it will be.”

“It's like having a fucking job.” The older man complained before yeling at one of the boys. “Easy with them fan belts.” Tommy smiled, taking another drag form his cigarette. “Wipe that smile off of your face. I want another pound a boat.”

“Done.” Charles laughed.

“You don't even fight me anymore. It has something to do with that woman from London!” Tommy arched his eyebrows at that. “Yeah, it’s all the men talk about: the beautiful woman from Camden Town that came all the way from London to talk to you.”

“She’s with Solomons.” For some reason his talk with Ada came up in his mind and Tommy felt the need to prevent Daphne’s name being attached to his. He knew that people already talked about her and Alfie being together but most part of the rumors were spread by people that didn’t knew them. If they thought that her relationship with him was anything but profession she could be, indeed, ruined.

“That’s not what I heard.” They just stared at each other for some moments before Charlie changed the subject. “And there's no sport getting through the Black Country with this truce. They just fucking wave at you from the bank.”

“You just wave back, all right?” Tommy patted his uncle’s arm before leaving.

“And all these fucking cars? When did you last ride a horse, Tom?”

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Daphne just smiled to herself when she saw Harriet coming down the stairs with a disheveled Alfie right behind her.

“Daph! It’s so good to see you!” The woman came straight to her, taking her in what could be called a bear hug. “It’s been a while, Alfie has been hogging you.” She gave him a pointed look and he just scratched the back of his head, sighing.

“It’s a little bit of my fault two. The last few weeks haven’t been the best.” Harriet’s deep brown eyes studied the other woman’s reaction and her expression softened.

“I know, I know, darling. Maybe I can stole you for tea?” Daphne had a feeling that Alfie was going to say something, but Harriet had already hooked her arms with Daphne’s directing them towards the door. “See you, Alfred!” The courtesan shouted before the two of them left the house and all that Daphne could recognize was Alfie’s voice saying ‘Damn, woman’.”

When the two of them were sat comfortably in Harriet’s office, the one in her apartment just down the street, each one of them with a cup of tea in their hands, Harriet took a moment to analyze her friend better. For anyone that didn’t knew her, Daphne could have looked normal, but her friend knew her well enough to notice the signs of tiredness and worry in the other woman’s behavior.

“You’re not sleeping well.” Daphne met the statement with a sigh.

“I never do at this time of the year.” Harriet knew that to. They had shared rooms for a long time, sometimes even sleeping on the same bed, it was difficult not to notice the tossing and turning of Daphne’s nightmares.

“You’re planning something for this year?”

“No. But I’m sure that Alfie is.” The courtesan laughed, taking another sip of her tea.

“He wants to show his little sister off.” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not his only intention.” Harriet knew that too – Alfie never took his promise of protecting Daphne lightly and her birthday was the perfect occasion for him to show to everyone that anybody that messed with her would be messing with him.

“I heard that you met with the leader of the Blinders. How is he?” Daphne raised her brows at that.

“Alfie told you that?”

“I coarsed it out of him.” Harriet smiled and the other woman only laughed.

“I’m pretty sure that you did.”

“Don’t redirect, honey. Tell, me.”

“Why are you so interested in this?” More often than not, Daphne ignored the fact that she knew Harriet gave Alfie information about what the two talked. Most part of the time both her friend’s intentions were good and deep down she knew that the woman would never betray her, so she just brushed it off and used it at her advantage too.

“Can a friend be curious about her friend’s life?”

“Alfie told you something. Come on, what is it?” Harriet rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“I swear to God, sometimes I forget you two aren’t related. It’s unbelievable.” She looked at Daphne and saw a little smile forming on her lips. “He said something about being worried for you. Said that he doesn’t like the way the Shelby looks at you.”

“It’s not like that.” The dismissive tone she used caught Harriet’s attention.

“Daph, we both know that men often recognize when other men looks at a woman a certain way.” Daphne took a sip of her tea to prevent answering the unspoken question. “Is this guy interested in you in some way?”

“He’s just curious because he doesn’t know what exactly my relationship with Alfie is, exactly. Thomas has a fame of wanting to have control over everything, this is something out of his reach. That’s it.”

“Ok I think I asked you the wrong question.” There was a pregnant pause before Harriet spoke again. “Are you interested in him?” The question took Daphne by surprise. She haven’t thought about it that way but one thing that you could trust Harriet to do was read her like an open book. Thomas Shelby intrigued her, that was for sure. Her answer was the most sincere thing that Daphne could master.

“I don’t know.”

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mid0nz-archive · 4 years ago

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The Cannibal & the Consulting Criminal: How Silence and Sherlock Taught Me to Read

(I’m writing a series of autobiographical essays. This meta is a messy. messy warm up…)

PART I: TSotL The Odd Flash of Contextual Intelligence

Know your intertexts (and the limits of their influence)

I’ve spent a LOT of time writing about the influence of Harris on Mark Gatiss in particular. We have Harris to thank for Sherlock’s mind palace for starters. Moriarty and Dr. Lecter share many traits. Then again so do the psychiatrist and Sherlock. I’ll come back to these obvious connections between Sherlock and TSotL in a later part of this meta. (The connections are actually quite superficial.) For now I want to return to my first obsession: the genius cannibal who taught me how to read and the fandom that saved me from him.

Do your research.

Thomas Harris, author of The Silence of the Lambs, choses every word with great care. How many people, for example, do you know called Hannibal? Clarice is more common I suppose, but it’s certainly not a run-of-the-mill monicker. While starlings are the most common of birds have you ever met someone with that surname? Have you ever met a Lecter? What if I told you there is an extremely obscure historical figure called Hannibal the Starling? (You’ll find the reference in Smith’s Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology if you seek.) Would you think that Harris must have heard of that man? Possibly. Possibly. If I told you that Harris makes most of his characters’ names up– that they sound plausible enough, but unless you’re an everyman like a Jack Crawford or a Will Graham you’re a Francis Dolarhyde or an Ardelia Mapp.

Ardelia Mapp? In the novel Ardelia is Clarice Starling’s roommate at the FBI academy. When exams roll around and Clarice has been too busy hunting Buffalo Bill to read her textbooks, it’s Ardelia who makes sure that Clarice knows all about search and seizures. Adelia Mapp. Ardeila Mapp. What kind of name is that? It helps if we cram along with Clarice:

Mapp v. Ohio, 367 U.S. 643 (1961), was a landmark case in criminal procedure, in which the United States Supreme Court decided that evidence obtained in violation of the Fourth Amendment, which protects against “unreasonable searches and seizures”, may not be used in criminal prosecutions in state [or] federal courts. (x)

Hey Thomas Harris!

Recognize when there’s a joke and you’re not getting it.

Thomas Harris amuses himself with language. Clarice comes from the Latin root clar and the words related to pertain to brilliance and light and the illustrative. And Lecter? So many people have tried to trace its origins but all becomes clear when you think about its etymology. In Latin lector means reader.

Clarice’s boss, Jack Crawford, likes to quote impressive sounding things out of context. Dr. Lecter mocks him for picking and choosing passages of the Meditations of the Roman Emperor, Stoic philosopher, and persecutor of Christians, Marcus Aurelius.

“I’ve read the cases, Clarice, have you? Everything you need to know to find him is right there [in the case files], if you’re paying attention. Even Inspector Emeritus, Crawford should have figured it out. Incidentally, did you read Crawford’s stupefying speech last year to the National Police academy? Spouting Marcus Aurelius on duty and honor and fortitude— we’ll see what kind of a Stoic Crawford is when Bella [his wife] bites the big one. He copies his philosophy out of Bartlett’s Familiar, I think. If he understood Marcus Aurelius, he might solve this case.” “Tell me how.” “When you show the odd flash of contextual intelligence, I forget your generation can’t read, Clarice. The Emperor councils simplicity. First principles. Of each particular thing, ask: What is it in itself, in its own constitution? What is its causal nature?” “That doesn’t mean anything to me.” “What does he do, the man you want?”

I could go on and on about how Harris allows Dr. Lecter to reference Stoicism and all kinds of other ideas for his own amusement. I say amusement because the reader need not understand Dr. Lecter’s jokes to enjoy Harris’ books. Clarice doesn’t and she doesn’t pretend to. Oh how Dr. Lecter fancies his student! I could go on and on because the entire fucking book is a compendium of in-jokes. That in itself is Stoic food for thought. Diogenes Laertius recounts a Stoic idea that Harris likes to chew on.

“Some appearances are expert (technikai), others are inexpert; at any rate a picture is observed differently by an expert and the inexpert person.”

Julia Annas explains:

A non-expert will just see figures; the expert will see figures that represent gods. The expert is right— there really is that significance- and the non-expert is missing something. What is more surprising to us is the claim that the appearance is itself “expert.” The expert is not seeing anything that is not there for the ignoramus to see. It is the fault of the ignoramus that he fails to see what is to be seen, because he fails to understand the content of what is presents to him. (82) - Hellenistic Philosophy of Mind by Julia Annas

Lecter, the consummate reader, is the expert. Clarice, who’s not more than one generation from the mines, is the ignoramus. Yet she shows the odd flash of contextual intelligence.

Discern clues from NOISE.

Though their relationship was weird, close, and lasting Clarice would never realize that Dr. Lecter gave her everything she needed to know to catch Buffalo Bill the first time they met!

On that fateful day, with instructions from Jack Crawford to note anything and everything she sees, Clarice shows enough intelligence to asks Dr. Lecter about the drawings in his cell. Dr. Lecter replies:

It’s Florence. That’s the Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo, seen from the Belvedere. Do you know Florence?“

If Clarice were prepared "to read” Dr. Lecter’s work, she might have understood the significance of the image. She’s the very model of the Stoic ignoramus.

Clarice finds Buffalo Bill/Jame Gumb by recognizing his personal acquaintance with the first victim he skinned, Fredrica Bimmel. They both lived in Belvedere, Ohio where Clarice finds Gumb while Crawford’s teams go all SWAT on John Grant’s last known address. We find out later in the novel that Dr. Lecter knew Gumb lived in Belvedere, Ohio. Perhaps he was musing on the facts of the case while composing his sketches.

Jack Crawford, of all people, should have noticed the name “Belvedere” and made the connection. His dying wife’s name is Phyllis but he’s called her Bella for most of their entire relationship. Phyllis and Jack were both stationed in Italy and during one of their outings, a man called Phyllis “Bella,” or beauty. Bella is the feminine form; “bel” is the masculine form, as in bel vedere, or beautiful view. We learn later that Clarice has to work hard to trick herself into seeing any beauty in Belvedere, Ohio.

Now you’ve got the facts. Theorize with them.

There is another explanation as to why Crawford might have missed the clue in Dr. Lecter’s drawing from Clarice’s notes. Clarice does not know Italian. How would she have written the sketch’s title in her report? Dr. Lecter does not say, when she asks about the sketch, that is is the Old Plaza and the Dome seen from the Belvedere (pronounced in English, be-vuh-deer as in Belvedere, Ohio). Dr. Lecter says all the proper names in Italian except “Florence.” Florence is the English name for the city Italians call Firenze. Clarice’s ear would catch “Florence” and it may be that her report stated that the sketch was of Florence, but no further details. She doesn’t, after all, ask Dr. Lecter how to spell the names of the places with which she is unfamiliar. Crawford, reading a reasonably detailed report from Clarice, might have only noted that Dr. Lecter was sketching Florence– enough detail for a report if you don’t know what you’re looking at. Clarice, while an ignoramus in the Stoic sense, shows potential. Dr. Lecter is polite when he surmises that she is “innocent of the Gospel of St. John.” He calls her innocent, not ignorant. She’s simply not an expert in iconography. She sees all she can see in the image. Crawford, however, is experienced enough with Dr. Lecter to know how important images are to him. Will Graham captured Dr. Lecter in Red Dragon by recognizing that one of his victims was posed in a tableau of a Wound Man in one of Dr. Lecter’s books. Graham was an expert. We can’t be sure from simply reading the text that Dr. Lecter isn’t making the epiphany of “Belvedere” especially difficult to decode even if Clarice were to have written a verbatim transcript of their discussion. In speech Dr. Lecter may be pronouncing the proper names as an American would, or, alternately, with an Italian accent. He could be pronouncing the incidental proper names (Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo) in an Italian accent and “Belvedere” in an American accent to dare Clarice and Jack to take notice. Or, he could be pronouncing all the names in an Italian accent, a fact could be lost in translation between Clarice, innocent of Italian, and Crawford, who knows just enough to have had an epiphany. Each scenario is possible and each reveals a slightly different interpretation of Dr. Lecter’s motives. If we take Thomas Harris himself as the final authority, in the audiobook Harris reads Dr. Lecter’s part. Harris says all proper nouns including “Belvedere” with an Italian accent (albeit with a Mississippi drawl.)

Yeah ok SO WHAT?! And what about Sherlock?!

In Part II I’ll talk about TSotL as an intertext to Sherlock and the limits of this influence. I’ll compare Dr. Lecter’s method of reading to James Moriarty’s. I’ll talk about why & how I crawled out of the cannibal’s skull and into the consulting criminal’s and where I am going next… Or I just might try to revamp this to make more sense. I dunno…

#Repost of an old meta I deleted but need for a new project.#The Silence of the Lambs

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flairmagazineblog · 4 years ago

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Miss Universe Egypt 2020: Aya Abdel Razik

Crowned this year’s Miss Universe Egypt, Aya Abdel Razik is a marvel to look out for. Aside from being a beauty queen, she is also a med student and a young up-and-coming actress. We talked to her to find out more about her and how she feels about her new title.

What does the title of Miss Universe Egypt mean to you personally?

Being a miss is both an honor and responsibility, and as a pageant fan, I know Miss Universe is the top rated beauty pageant all over the world. This makes me even more responsible and aware of everything I do. I’m aware that the younger generation considers us as role models and they look up to whatever we are doing. I saw this already when I attended the Gouna Film Festival and some cute little girls came to say hi and asked for a picture. I felt we were noticed, seen and looked up to. I aspire to be a good example for the beauty queens and prove that we are not mannequins; we are as wholesome as this title deserves.

Name a person who inspires you.

I have a very long list of people that inspire me, from celebrities to random people whom I’ve crossed paths with. On the top of this list is my mother, especially knowing what she had to go through and what she overcame to be who she is and raise me as the person who I am now. She is my role model and I wish I can handle circumstances the way she does.

How do you define success?

I see success as an endless journey not a destination. That hardworking student’s mindset is the key behind every successful person. I believe we should be always grateful but never satisfied with whatever we achieve. The more we are eager to learn new things in our lives, the more we open more doors that might lead us to new places.

How do you juggle being a pageant queen, a med student and an actress all at once?

I actually used to be that nerd sitting in the front rows at school. Once I enrolled my name in med school, which was the major I dreamed of since I was younger, I started to look for what I’m passionate about. I began taking acting workshops and small roles as a hobby. Then, once I got announced as Miss Universe Egypt, people from the cinema production field have started offering me promising deals in acting.

The trick is proper time management; I used to attend university classes in the morning and do castings and acting workshops after. I took it as a challenge to do both at the same time, since most people were telling me they believe med students are always studying and don’t have a life. This is not true because we do have time to socialize, workout and do other activities according to our preference, as long as we have proper time management.

If you had to pick, who are your favorite couture designers?

A long list of pioneer designs come to mind but my favorite is Zuhair Mourad. His latest collection was very authentic and wearing it on stage says, “this girl is Egyptian,” without me speaking a word. I also go crazy about Hany El Behairy dresses; he was our official sponsor in Miss Universe Egypt and gave us some beautifully designed gowns. I appreciate designers who accept the fact that we are not models and we don’t need to follow the international standardized measurements for models; the dress needs to accentuate our feminine body, whatever our size is.

What have been the highlights of attending the Gouna Film Festival this year?

I’m a very big fan of this festival since it’s very first edition, and I’ve always watched it on TV with my family. Having the opportunity to attend the festival this year is like a dream come true. Walking the red carpet, attending the panels and masterclasses, being among people who are passionate about cinema and art, and meeting the TV stars in person…it was a very informative and beautiful experience. I can’t wait for the next edition already!

If you could help any cause in your country, what would you probably give your attention to?

I believe we serve the best when we personally connect to what we are doing. I aspire to establish a non-profit hospital organization that tours all around Egypt and helps in the health care process of those who can’t afford it. My vision is to build a healthy community capable of functioning effectively in different fields.

Photoshoot Credits

National Director: Hoda Abboud

PR & Production : Marwa Abouzeid

Image consultant: Lamitta AlAhl

Photography: Kareem Osman

Designer: Iman Saab

Crown: Iman Saab Accessories

Jewelry: L’azurde

Makeup: Abdallah El Refaei

Hair: Alaa Boulad

Retouch & Editing: Md 4production

Location: CPC Studio

Miss Universe Egypt 2020: Aya Abdel Razik was originally published on FLAIR MAGAZINE

#Featured

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darkdevasofdestruction · 5 years ago

Text

OC asks - YuGiOh & Assassins Creed

OH YES, THIS IS GONNA BE FUN~!

--- YU-GI-OH

1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves green! It’s a calming colour that highlight her eyes and gives her a more alluring look.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

Not sure if it counts, as she doesn’t collect physical things, but she loves to take pictures of everything that makes her happy and look at them from time to time.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

Idiocy.

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Black jeans, with a regular green top, a black vest-like trench coat and knee length black boots, so pretty basic.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Uhhhh......Like, as a child? I suppose it’d be when her mother smiled at her and gave her the family heirloom, the Millennium Medallion.

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves all animals, but at first, she loved Wolves the most, since she thought it would suit her loner personality. Her least favourite animal were, ironically, foxes, because her father blamed every mistake on her and her ironic name. That is, until she meets Seto and Mokie, and becomes friends with Yugi’s group, who taught her that instead of listening to the bad stuff, she should make her own name meaning, and since then, she wore her name and spirit animal proudly.

7. What element would your OC be?

BYFIREBEPURGED

Well, if we go by elements meaning, I think either Earth, because she is a nurturing and healing person who helps others without realising. Either that, or water, because she is calm and relaxes people, but she can also become an outright tsunami.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Too Late” by Dead by Sunrise, since it shows how desperate she was to find an escape from the darkness she succumbed to once her mother and younger sister were killed in a car accident and she was left under the strict hand of her father who had inhumane expectations of her and wanted only perfection and for her to follow the path he dictates.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

I never thought of that, to be fair? For voiceclaims no, but I imagine her to have a pretty versatile voice, feminine and casual most of the time, but can go low enough to either sound alluring or have a hint of poison darkness.

As for face claims, while creating my Game of Thrones OC, I stumbled upon this picture and she’s been my “faceclaim” if I can’t do a drawing of her, or if the fandom doesn’t have anime/cartoon characters, but real people.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

For a long time, I’m pretty sure it would be Envy, because she’s see happy people with no family issues, and envies them so much, having dark thoughts about them.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

Games of all kinds, travelling, staying in the nature, relaxing outside.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

She’s incredibly patient with everyone and everything, in most situation, but can’t handle bad behaviour and dumb questions, especially if repeated, and especially if she’s tired, concentrating or the repetition of the conditions is a much too high number.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl, but I haven’t thought of her sexuality or romantic orientation before, since she’s only ever attracted to Seto.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

She loves any kind of home-made food, but can’t stand some sea-food dishes.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Do foxes count? If not, dogs and snakes would be her first options.

16. What does your OC smell like?

Okay, so, there’s this perfume and shower gel that I love so much and they smell SO good, like chocolate...So yes, that exactly.

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

She’s a student, so she has no actual job, but her dream job revolves around technology - Either a programmer or a game developer, both options, later, allowing her to work together with Seto.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She’s afraid of being manipulated and controlled again, insects and loneliness. Her biggest weakness is her kindness and the fact that she has a hard time denying anyone’s requests, so she can very often be walked all over, if someone doesn’t interfere. Her strengths are her perseverance and ambition that keep her going on and not giving up.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

She loves rock, trap and indie songs mostly, and has a hard time choosing only one song, but one of them would be Scorpions - “Still Loving You”.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

Honestly, the Yu-Gi-Oh world is pretty similar to ours, so I don’t think it would be a huge problem to adapt, and would try to make friends and pursue her dreams.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

Apart from her family issues with her mother and younger sister dying and her father being a controlling jerk? She gets pretty restless when she feels something is wrong, and would go in an overly-protective mode and often get herself in trouble.

Her pet peeves are when people chew too loud, being too loud in general, people looking at her phone and people who aren’t punctual or go back on their promises.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

“The Nerd” trope. Straight As, loner, shy, but that’s mostly because of her father and how he’d punish her if she didn’t do perfect, and would move her to other schools/cities each year, depending on where his business would lead him.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

Her hair has more personality than she has. No matter how much she tries, she can’t get it nice and neat, so she stopped caring and leaves it as untameable as it wants it to be.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She’s a realist that can often slide down to pessimism or fatalism, as she doesn’t actually have any experience in the real world and is afraid of failing and ruining everything around her.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

Honestly? She’s based on me and how I really am or I’d want to be, in a way. I love how I look with red hair, and I love foxes and their various portrayals and meanings, so I used them to create Kitsune, but instead of giving her black eyes, like I have, I gave her green eyes, like emeralds, to give her that touch of mysterious seductive aura around her.

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

The most important person ALIVE in her life is Seto, because he was the one to take her away from her father and show her they are more than their bad parenting and tragic backstory. (Basically, after some exam results were showed, and she didn’t get the marks he expected, her father went to the principal’s office and realising the girl was using her mother’s old Duel Monsters, proceeding on lighting it on fire, making the girl freak out and put the slightly aflame deck in the principal’s aquarium, before having an outright breakdown, only for Seto to get mad and sass out the father, who was supposed to be a future business partner. When she left the school, she saw Seto and went to thank him, but he only asked if she wanted to babysit Mokuba for a short period of time when he’ll be in another country with business, and from then on, they bond.) On the other hand, the least important person, who still impacts her life, is her father, for the reasons stated before.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

Does it count as your usual sob story? Because until she was 13, her childhood was the dream childhood, but when her mother died, it all went down the drain.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She tends to wet and bite her bottom lip a lot, she always walks out with earphones and music at max volume to avoid anxiety, walks fast when alone, focuses on her phone to combat the same anxiety and awkwardness, and when impatient or focused, she plays with a strand of her hair, drums her fingers on the table (she likes it when she hears the tapping of her nails), or bounces her leg.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

Game over. Respawn time : 3...2...1...

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She can’t stand children, they annoy her very much and especially doesn’t want to go through the whole childbirth mess, or have her child hate her. As for marriage...She is afraid of marriages, of rather said, of the possible heartbreak of a divorce, but she wouldn’t actually mind having a dream/fairy tale like small wedding, to make everything beautiful and ethereal.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her most traumatic experience is hearing that her mother and sister got in a car accident, and while her mother was killed on the spot, her sister died in the hospital, in front of her, not long after giving her her favourite Duel Monsters card : Madolche Cruffsant , just because it was hella cute.

Her favourite memory is either her mother teaching her Duel Monsters, or her reading her Disney Princess stories.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her mother and sister back to life.

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’d only kill in self-defense or to save someone else, otherwise, the farthest she’d go, is a hell of a beating.

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

In a group of friends, she’s the moral and emotional support of the group, as well as the one to attempt to stop others from doing impulsive and reckless decisions.

In a game, she’d be the healer, priest, shaman or white mage.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Her imagination goes through the roof, as she always day-dreams about literally everything and anything and reads a lot. Yeah, she does worry a lot and lives in the past, but she’s trying to work on it.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She needs affections, validation and comfort. (Give her a hug pls) She’s used without it, so she wouldn’t do anything physically/aggressively to obtain it, but it’s eating her alive when she’s overthinking and doubting herself. Other than that, she knows she can obtain everything she wants by herself and just a bit of work.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

I don’t think she does anything special that she does and others don’t... But she likes to carry Mokuba on her shoulders.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

Would make sure she doesn’t have to depend on anyone’s money, since she can’t stand being a burden to anyone, and would use the rest to make even more money, so one day, when she’ has a proper and constant living, she could help create animal shelters and donate to different charities.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Bubbly soda, water, chocolate and food in the fridge. A fluffy carpet on the floor and nothing else. Her laptop, a bottle of water and a bag of snacks. Fruit remains, empty snacks bags and other random useless things.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s going on a calm walk on the shore, barefeet, with Seto, feet in water and letting the breeze mess up her hair even more. Kitsune’s wearing a soft coloured flowery patterned dress that’s above the knee, it’s flowy and somehow transparent with an underskirt, and the sleeves are long and loose, all the paired with a pair of sneakers that she can easily take off, knowing she’s going to the beach.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

It takes a LOT to make her to visibly show her anger, but she’s going to become extremely verbally aggressive, insulting, sarcastic, barely able to keep herself from getting physical.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

Nope, she’s clean.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb your ego and jump down to your IQ, that’s lower than your shoe size. In fact, it’s non-existent, much like my respect for you. Get the hell out of my sight, can’t you see nobody wants you here? You’re going to be missed like the leprosy.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

If it’s not actually an insult or a rude remark, she’ll listen and see what she can do with the advice, more more often than not, she still does whatever she thinks it’s right.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

She never tried pineapple pizza, so she’s not sure how she’d react, but it’s just 1 slice, so it won’t kill her. She’s not a huge pineapple fan though.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works? She takes a needle and gently pokes her hand, and if it’s actually true, she’s gonna keep that doll a secret for safe-keeping, so nobody will ever be able to use it.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not THE best artist in the world, but she draws cute things like flowers from time to time to relax. As well as that, she draws flowery borders on her notebook pages.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

I already talked too much about her father, but her mother was a sweet and kind soul, and incredibly ambitious and playful and competitive, which is why she won countless gaming competitions. Her mother’s angelic soul and kindness was the way she wanted to grow to be, and whenever she gets angry, she gets reminded of her father and hates herself for doing something he does that she hates so much.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She loves sweets, but she doesn’t feel the need to eat too many, especially at the same time, so she doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she get hyper.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She would cry a lot and would try anything in her power to alter her fate, but if it isn’t possible, she’ll try to spend as much quality time with Seto, Mokie and Yugi’s gang as possible.

---

ASSASSINS CREED

I haven’t gotten around to actually drawing anything for AC unfortunately, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get around to do it ^^”

---

1. What is your OC’s favorite color?

She loves Green and Blue, but the longer she stays in Masyaf, the more she misses the beautiful shade range of purple and lavender.

2. Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

In her time, she didn’t collect anything, but when she traveled back in time to Masyaf’s 1191 timeline, she started picking different flowers, pressing them in an empty tome that Malik gifted to her, and together with him, she would draw the flower on the other page, and write information about the plant in cause, with the help of her beloved Malik, both in her language and in his.

3. What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

As to quote a line from the Secret Crusade novel...

“Stupid Altair. Arrogant Altair. He was in trouble.”

4. What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

During her time, in the Japanese Brotherhood, as she is the Master Assassin of the Stealth branch, she wears mostly black, light clothes that allow her to sneak around, spy, snipe and blend in.

In Masyaf time, she had to wear the usual male Assassin outfit that literally engulfs her, which is really annoying as she can’t play to her strengths, so she has to fight quite a lot to get some practical adjustments to the outfit, and ones that won’t attract civilian nor templar unwanted attention.

5. What is your OC’s first memory?

Her elder brother singing this song to her : LULLABY

6. What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

She loves foxes so much. She knows she looks like one, and she uses everything to her advantage, and since she doesn’t actually remember her real name, she chose “Kitsune” as her assassin name.

Also, keep spiders away from her, or she’ll feel her soul leave her body in a split second.

7. What element would your OC be?

Fire. Without a speck of doubt. She’s a little, smug firecracker.

8. What is your OC’s theme song?

I think “Demons” by Starset works pretty well, as whilst she’s a strong person, she still has moments of weakness and needs someone by her side, before she loses control of herself and become someone she’d hate.

9. Do you have a faceclaim / voiceclaim for your OC?

Same person as before. I don’t know who she is, but she’s my muse.

10. What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

I believe Pride is going to give her a looot of trouble.

11. What are your OC’s hobbies?

She loves ice skating, singing, dancing in the moonlight and chilling on the grassy ground, watching the clouds pass by.

12. How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

This little firecracker is somewhere in the middle ground, because yes, she is definitely patient in a lot of circumstances, but Gods, when she gets angry or impatient, you can literally see fire around her.

13. What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

Kitsune is a human girl who never thought of love, as she was married to her work as an assassin, but when she arrives in Masyaf, she falls in love with Malik Al’Sayf.

14. What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

Cherries! She loves fruits in general, but she LOVES to seductively eats strawberries or tie cherry steam knots! On the other hand, she won’t eat anything that looks weird or not aesthetic.

15. If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Give this girl a horse, she loves feeling the feeling of wind in her face as she feels the horse speeding up! It’s like she’s on a motorbike again, but a bit different!

16. What does your OC smell like?

Vanilla and Roses <3

17. How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

Kitsune is the Master Assassin of the Japanese Brotherhood’s Stealth Branch, so it’s needless to say that she gets her pay from this.

18. What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

She fears getting close to anyone, only to have them dying on her again, just like her parents and older brother. Her weaknesses are her physical strength, her fear of the unknown and the fear of failure. She is small, fast and agile, has an amazing sight and always does her job at perfection, thanks to her ruthlessness, and can easily seduce and manipulate people with words and a simple bat of her long lashes.

19. What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

Give her the loudest rock music and the best trap and dubstep remixes, she loves the energy she gets from those kids of songs.

20. If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

She is from our world...Sort of, so she won’t have too much of a problem living her life at leisure.

21. What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

She has a hard time straying from the rules or showing mercy because she’s been brought up by the Brotherhood since she was 7. Her parents died at such a young age (as they too were assassins) that she doesn’t remember them, and the man who took care of her, as per her parents’ death wish, died when she had to assist him on her first mission, at 12 years old, which was a chaos and he died saving her so she could make sure the mission was a success.

Her pet peeves are people getting too close to her when talking, breathing too loudly, children misbehaving and slow internet.

22. What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

She didn’t actually go to a regular school, but was trained and taught by the brotherhood, where she was an incredibly perfectionist and diligent student.

23. What is a random fact about your OC?

She absolutely L O V E S to playfully flirt with people she likes, which makes Malik the one to endure all her flirting.

24. What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

She doesn’t care if she dies or not, as long as she’s happy. She’s an assassin, she’s been fearless for as long as she can remember.

25. What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fan-character? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

I love Malik, I want someone to flirt a lot with him, I flirt a lot with my friends, and hell, Kitsune, as I said, she basically myself with green eyes and maybe better make up skills.

26. Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them that still has an impact and why?

The most important person in her life that is alive is Malik now, as her “Elder brother” died, and she never got personally close to anyone in the brotherhood, only professionally.

There’s nobody who really influences her negatively, apart from her own self and her perfectionism/over-thinking or the brotherhood creed.

You could say that, half-jokingly, her least favourite person is Altair because he’s a jerk who caused Malik to lose his arm and Kadar to die, but she forgives him when she sees true redemption in him.

27. What kind of childhood did your character have?

It was a pretty basic childhood, her elder brother taking care of her while studying and training for the brotherhood, and for her, that was normality so nothing was weird.

28. What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

She bites her lip very hard, until the point she draws blood, she cracks her knuckles a lot and she has a sort of internet addiction that went down the drain when she went back in time and realised her Brotherhood wouldn’t/couldn’t bring her back in her times.

29. If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

I went down in the flames of success, so better throw my ashes in the Haunted Mansion from Disneyland Paris, or I’m gonna haunt everyone.

30. Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

She’s an assassin, so she sees no reason to marry, or worse, have children, which she can’t stand. However, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t want to to wear a pretty dress, have a nice hairstyle and make up and dance in the moonlight, alone, with Malik. It’s the closest she would get to a normal, domestic family.

31. What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Her brother dying in front of her, and him yelling for her to finish the mission and return to the Brotherhood, otherwise they’d kill her is a scene that still haunts her every nightmare.

On the other hand, her favourite memory is her brother singing to her that Lullaby, something which she took up and would sometimes sing to Malik, or would sneak out at night and sing while dancing by herself, trying to find a bit of freedom and sense of self.

32. If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Her brother back...And maybe some fucking WiFi and electricity...And a bathtub...With bath bombs...And scented candles...

33. Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

She’s an assassin who struggles with showing mercy, need I say more?

34. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

She’s the one who flirts and jokes a lot, I guess you could say she’s the popular girl stereotype?

In an RPG, she’d be the assassin, rogue or even warlock or necromancer, without a doubt.

35. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

She doesn’t have too much time to day-dream, but now that she’s stuck in the past, she has more free time to do nothing but imagine random scenarios that would never happen.

Kitsune doesn’t live in the past or future, she lives in the moment...In a way that is borderline robotic and as if she tries to forget the fact that she’s human at all.

36. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She wants to find a life that won’t bind her to the Brotherhood in a way that she’d have to sacrifice everything for it. She wants a normal life that still has some of the assassin thrill, but not the risks...Keep the adrenaline though, she hates getting bored.

She doesn’t know yet what or how to achieve this utopia, but perhaps the fact that she’s in the past, with a Brotherhood that she’s not officially part of, might prove enough for her.

37. What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

Does anyone flirt in Assassins Creed 1? Because if they don’t, Kitsune does A LOT.

38. What would your character do with a million dollars?

She’d take Malik with her and travel the world, exploring every inch of it, away from everybody she knows, and going to all theme and amusement parks.

39. What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

Her laptop, phone and tablet on the nightstand, along with a water bottle and food. She has notebooks and ink and feathers on the ground next to her bed, since she’s usually too lazy to go to the table. There’s...No fridge in Masyaf, unfortunatelly...No more chocolate or ice cream... Lots of sketches and messed up scrolls in the trash.

40. Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

She’s so used to wearing either assassin or sexy clothes, that she chooses to wear something so simple and casual, like a pair of sneakers and a simple sundress, taking Malik on a walk at night, as during the day she wouldn’t really be able to dress as revealing, in public.

41. What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

She tries to calm herself, but when she can’t help herself, she’d either go physically or verbally violent and harsh, depending on the gravity of the situation.

It doesn’t take long to piss her off, but it takes a LOT to actually get her to lose her temper.

42. Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

She has a scar on the left side of her face, going from the forehead, to her eye and down to the middle of her cheek, because of the accident in Solomon’s Temple when she sneaked to get the artifact.

43. What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

“Tell me… Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted? Why Don’t You Slip Into Something More Comfortable. Like A Coma? Wait, don’t worry, I can help with that. Whatever permission you thought you had to speak to me, I hereby remove. Honestly, did I ask you anything? No? Good, because nobody asked for your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.”

44. How does your character react/ accept criticism?

Can’t take it, especially if it’s not sugar coated or said in a gentle way, so she could understand it’s not an insult or an attack, but a suggestion.

She’d do whatever she wants regardless.

45. If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

Pick up the pineapple slices, throw them at Altair’s face, then eat the pizza slice with no problem.

46. Your character is given a voodoo doll of themselves. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?

Would keep it safer than her own heart and would try to track down whoever did the doll, in order to kill them. She doesn’t need potential killers on her case.

47. Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

She’s not too bad, but she likes drawings plants, animals and landscapes, which is why she likes to draw every plant she collects. On the other hand, she can’t doodle when absent-minded, she only taps the front of the pen on the table or paper.

48. What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

She didn’t really know them, as they died when she was too young, so they didn’t exactly affect her in any way. They weren’t bad people, despite being assassins, but as far as she heard around the Brotherhood, they were diligent, intelligent and reliable, so she was proud to be their daughter.

49. Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

She doesn’t get sugar rushes, nor does she eat too many sweets at once, but if she’s in a playful mood, she can get a bit more energetic than usual.

50. If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

She’d try to see if it can be avoided, but if not, not a big deal for her. She’d just do the weirdest things possible and spend quality time with Malik and Altair, maybe even trying to make the Masyaf Brotherhood a better place, teaching them new healing methods and whatever...If she was in a good mood, at least.

#assassins creed #assassing creed oc #malik al sayf #Altair Ibn La'Ahad #yugioh oc #yugioh #Kaiba Seto #Mokuba Kaiba #yugi mutou #kitsune shimada #oc #my oc #oc asks

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masked-disciple · 4 years ago

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1, 4, 5, 6, 11, 15, 21, 22, 23 for the writers ask?

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Currently, I’m working on a fic titled A Monstrous Manifesto, which is a fic entirely inspired by Cat Valente’s poem of the same name. Every line is a chapter, every noun is a part of that chapter, and every single beast named corresponds to a Spectre, allowing me to dig directly into their heads and demonstrate their full psychology.

Progress stopped unfortunately back in July on part four - a fiend, which I picked Deadly Beetle Stand for, because I just couldn’t get into his head. Kiril played soundboard for it and I’ve been humming and hawing over him trying to figure it out, but let’s be real it’s gonna come to me in a dream.

Because see here, most folks who’ve read my works, if told to point to my best, it’ll either be a) my breakthrough with Armour Adventures (which tbh if I redid I’d do better on), b) In Kismet Marcescence (which I need to sit down and plot out properly before I continue), or c) rather unexpectedly to me, Green Grows The Asphodel. Guess everyone likes that soft MiAlba where Alba gets his bastardization arc, but also I let him speedrun it in Broken Shine The Stars and people seem to like that one too, so.

The thing is with AMM is that this would be my greatest work. Like AA, it’s gen, but here’s the one advantage I’ve realized I actually have over pretty much everyone else in this fandom: I am myself a monster, fictionkind and all. I’m a Devil and a feral little beast, which means when you offer me Spectres - warriors of the dark and death who are all based around animal motifs - I take one look and go “oh! You’re like me!” and proceed to write them as actual monsters while having some unspoken and long-winded conversation about what it means to be human, what it means to be shunned, and what it means to belong among the broken.

It means that I write Spectres wildly different than anyone who isn’t Kiril (who is on the same wavelength as me and we argue back and forth about the inner details of everyone’s monstrosity), which means when I do it, nobody’s seen this shit before and apparently people seem to think it’s cool. So AMM is the very epitome of that style, of that psychological and philosophical discussion. I don’t really have a background of research in either of those things, so any similarities to works or theories already out there is entirely coincidence. Cat Valente’s poem was the first stepping stone I ever took to accepting myself for who - and what - I am. I owe as much of my identity and confidence to her as I do Zamorakian philosophy, which built my personality and is a major part of how I survived the middle school era of my life. The least I can do in return is offer the best of me out into the world.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

“Somewhere deep below conscious thought, below his training and the life and this Lemurian body, buried under lifetimes of war, buried under the idea that a Spectre was a fighter, his blood remembered how to love the memory of the fallen.” - Beneath Blood Ties

BBT is one of my most unappreciated fics, which makes sense as it’s set almost two thousand years prior to Classic, starring a fourteen-year-old Lemurian Minos and the Saint who raised him, Aries Kirien, whose name is probably still spelled Kiriel at least once in the fic because no beta we die like Gold Saints.

The original inspiration comes from Seanan McGuire’s Once Broken Faith, and the line in question is Toby reading the Luidaeg’s blood memories after the latter told a young Karen that she couldn’t speak Faerie even in her dreams - she speaks it in her blood memories, and Toby notes that her blood remembers.

It stuck with me, though I’ve read OBF approximately a million times. It, along with A Killing Frost and An Artificial Night, are my three top Toby books. And it responded to me as someone who’s fictionkind: I couldn’t speak the language I spoke as a Devil in my dreams, or in the waking world, but I know some part of me remembers it. Would know how. The Chaorruption filters all of that into English because it thinks it’s helping, but if I were a magical creature right now, in this world, I’m pretty sure my blood would remember.

So I wrote about Minos, and the sorrow he carried. The premise of BBT is that a Pope realized some Spectres come back, went around before they became Spectres, and kidnapped the lot of them to train as Saints, leaving them all traumatized as fuck, unsure of who they were or who they followed, and messed up for lifetimes. I also wanted to show more that Spectres were more than what the Holy Wars made of them, and about digging through that exotrauma to remember that they could be kind.

Spectres, originally, would make sense as really just Hades’ servants and the ones who keep the Meikai running. Pretty sure that means they know every single death rite that’s existed in the past three millennia. Pretty sure they know how to be respectful of the dead. Pretty damn sure that below all that soldiering and war, they’re all really exhausted librarians who want to do their job and also dig graves.

But I like this sentence here best, because that’s pretty much the climax of the plot here: that there is, in fact, something underneath all his exotrauma, all the current trauma he’s been dealing with. That below all of that bitterness and war, he’s a better person than what Athena made of him.

Idk, I just think it’s neat and no I’m not projecting being ‘kin on him again. /j

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

Albafica, to nobody’s surprise. I mean, come on. A guy with a fuckton of traditionally-feminine beauty whose looks keep getting brought up, is very introverted, has seen some shit, just wants to kill people who hurt what he cares about while also not hurting the people he does care about, really wants you to keep your damn distance, is super touchstarved, and holding onto his humanity with his fingertips? Come on the only things he’s got that I don’t is an actual male reproductive system and naturally blue hair.

Once you realize that especially in TLC Athena’s actions are pretty damn horrific, especially to her Saints, Albafica has the perfect setup to become a Spectre. Seriously, if he’d been offered Luco’s deal but while holding a dying Lugonis, do you really think he wouldn’t have taken it? I explore that more in Broken Shine The Stars, but like. Albafica is the perfect fallen angel of a character. He has genuinely good intentions. He’s hurting so damn bad and only fucking once in his entire onscreen performance is that acknowledged (shoutout to Luco for that one), and if you take his sorrow and let him turn it into anger, he’s a glorious monster indeed. Albafica’s descend into monstrosity and Spectrehood is exactly what would happen if I got angry and also hadn’t been fucking nerfed physically.

I love him way too much.

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

Surprisingly, Aiacos. Alba’s hard as fuck to write. Aiacos, though. You’ve heard me go off about Aiacos at length, but like. He’s the very embodiment of the worst person you can become while still loving, still surviving. Aiacos is the type of person we’re all capable of becoming, and we all should be terrified of becoming, because every single choice he’s ever made is completely understandable and that much more horrific for it.

It’s somewhat unsurprisingly easy to get into his head. He’s fun to write because he scares me. Because if I let him do all the dumb, selfish, sadistic-looking, survival-focused things, then I don’t have to worry about doing it myself. I let him look out for only himself when the pieces are down, so I can do better.

Also I haven’t seen anyone else write him that way (Kiril being the obvious exception here), so it’s double the fun because new territory.

11. What do you envy in other writers?

Hey. Hey you fuckers who can plot shit. Give me the number of the demon you sold your soul to. Let me PLOT SHIT.

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Summaries! Titles are easy, I steal them from songs and Toby books. They’re just fancy wordplay and I have literally a list on my fic spreadsheet of titles I want to use. Summaries, though, are very important. People don’t pick fics based on title and tags, they pick based on summary. They’re your hook into the work, so you’ve got to give the audience your premise short and sweet and actually sounding appealing.

Sometimes I can write them no problemo. Other times, they’re a fucking nightmare. I try to imply the tone of the ending in my summary, because I have absolutely been blindsided by the ending in a way I really didn’t like because I thought the summary was hiding the ending. (Example - there was this one fic that made it sound like my OTP was going enemies to lovers, and it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it needed the fucking dead dove do not eat tag, stopped just short of serious nonsexual noncon (which wasn’t tagged at all), and ended very unhappily and it messed me up for days, I did not like it.)

So for my summaries I set the scene, set the tone, and imply the tone of the ending so you have a vague idea of where it’s going. Easier said than done.

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

Anime, probably! Manga wouldn’t lend itself too well to my style, but I’d enjoy short anime episodes, I think. I honestly don’t know. Someone tell me what my stuff would work good as. I dunno.

22. Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?

For fic, all the time! I write what I want to read, and since six out of seven of the Dohko/Kagaho works on AO3 were my fault, I’d better get used to reading my own writing for pleasure. Fortunately, I like most of my writing recently, so that’s pretty all right!

Don’t ask about what I had up on ff.net. Don’t. It’s old and bad and I didn’t know how to write.

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

Hmmm... I want to rephrase this better as ‘what fic exists only as a concept and has done so for the longest out of all the concepts of fics currently in my head’, and hmmmm. Honestly, it’s either Shion and Aiacos’ romance fic where they also get a daughter (which has a title actually, The Lost Sea Fantasia, but still hasn’t been written); or it’s Wyvern Rose and the Trials of Lightning, which is about 15th century Rhada’s two daughters, the elder of which is surprise-given his surplice and his job when he dies right before Hades does, and the younger of which is kidnapped by a spiteful goddess who doesn’t like the elder of the two.

ToL is a fic that I have somewhat plotted out, but really needs a lot of work. I’m not really sure how to go about writing it, because whenever I sit down to sketch it out, it never comes to me. It does, however, lend itself well as a bedtime / campfire story that Albafica tells Regulus while they’re out on a mission together, as part of Alba sneakily teaching Regu how to be a Spectre without anyone knowing. It’ll stay a concept for a long while until Rose crashes into my headspace and actually fucking tells me more about herself other than “oh yeah btw I’m fucking Julia” like thanks, already knew that from Julia herself, tell me more about you you awful little Judge of a dragon princess.

[ask game here!]

#asks #saint seiya #dorksmithery #thank you!!#i'm gonna go answer the other one now #but ofc send me more if yall want!

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wiccan28 · 5 years ago

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Who are the Goddess and God of Wicca?

The Horned God and Triple Goddess are generally the deities you’ll hear people associate with Wicca, but these very same concepts generate a lot of confusion. You’ll read a lot of books that will tell you the Horned God is like this, or the Triple Goddess is like that. There are a lot of oversimplifications and generalizations going on with these descriptions. Many Wiccan sources also refer to the Lord and Lady as well, or “The” God, and “The” Goddess (the article “the” implying they’re specific deities). This leaves people to wonder— to whom, exactly, are we referring when we use these terms?

Wicca, being a 20th century religion, is fairly unique in one way: we don’t actually have our own deities. That is, our religion wasn’t built around veneration of any specific deities of our own—we worship Pagan Gods and Goddesses of other ancient cultures in a new and modern world. We do not have our own unique pantheon, nor do we believe our religion was revealed to us by deities.

So, who are these characters, then, that you’ll find peppered throughout Wiccan books and websites? Who is the Horned God or the Lord or the God? Who is the Triple Goddess, the Lady or the Goddess? Let’s have a look.

Types and Titles - Not Names

One quick way to settle a lot of confusion is to remind people of this: these terms in question are types of deities or titles of respect. Horned God is a type of Godhead, not one specific God. Triple Goddess is a type of Goddesshead, not one specific Goddess, or a specific trio of Goddesses. These terms are merely descriptions, not deities in themselves.

Likewise, Lord and Lady are titles of respect by which we call any God or Goddess, respectively; Lord and Lady are not names. Zeus is one Wiccan’s Lord, Thor is another Wiccan’s Lord, Lugh is another's... just as a Christian's Lord is YHWH (Jehova) though they call him 'Lord' and 'God'.

“The God” and “The Goddess” are not specific deities that all Wiccans worship; they are simply the generic term for male deities and female deities, respectively. So my God that I worship may not be the same God another Wiccan worships. But I still refer to him as God, 'the' God, or Lord.

So why do Wiccans use all these titles and types instead of just using the name of their God/dess?

Originally in Wiccan covens, Wiccans didn't speak the names of the deities they worshiped outside the circle. This was to prevent others from defaming and disrespecting the deities.

This still holds today for a lot of Wiccans, though many eclectics are more relaxed on it. They might be willing to tell other Wiccans/Pagans, or close friends, who their specific God/desses are but not wish to divulge that information to just anyone.

For other Wiccans, the Horned God and Triple Goddess, or the Lord and Lady, or The God and The Goddess have taken on a persona of their own. Some would argue this is the result of watered-down eclectic Wicca and improperly trained practitioners who have failed to do any in-depth research. Others embrace the “All Gods are one God, all Goddesses are one Goddess” theory1 which has become more prevalent with eclectics in the 1990s. These people would argue that all the various God/desses in mythology are either aspects or personifications of the same divine couple.

1 The “All Gods are one God, all Goddesses are one Goddess” theory actually didn’t originate in Wicca; it was from Dion Fortune, a Christo-Pagan Ceremonial Magician. This kind of ‘soft polytheism’ is probably as common in Wicca now as ‘hard polytheism’ (the belief that deities of different cultures are all unique and distinct beings).

The Horned God

The very term “Horned God” is controversial, considering most of us grew up in a Christian-dominant society in which the only god-like being who had horns was 'the devil'. This is why the term 'Horned God' gets a lot of knee-jerk reactions.

There is no relationship, however, between the Wiccan view of Horned Gods and the Christian view of Satan. That would be like saying a pumpkin must be an orange in disguise because they have the same color skin. Horned Gods existed long before any concept of Satan did, and nowhere in the Bible was Satan described as having horns and hooves—those extra-biblical descriptions came from the Middle Ages.

Horned Gods were sometimes depicted as having curving, conical horns like the goat or ram, or sometimes the branched antlers like the stag. Sometimes they were animal-headed, and sometimes goat-footed. Some of the more well-known Horned Gods include Pan and Cernuous.

To ancient Pagans, Gods with horns were related to the wild and man’s primal nature. They represent mankind unencumbered by the trappings of civilization and living by his instincts in a natural state of being. Horned Gods were closely related to the forests—particularly the wild animals. They’re related to the hunt (both as hunter, the life-taker, and as hunted, the life-giver; thus, he perpetuates the cycles of life). They would often be associated with fertility— the virile male embracing his carnal desires without the imposition of social codes and mores guiding his behavior.

The Horned God made its way into Wicca due to the popular theories at the time by a handful of 19th century/early 20th century anthropologists who attempted to tie all of Pagandom together as if it were one universal pre-Christian set of beliefs that went underground to avoid persecution. Christianity had long painted Pagans as villains; in the age of enlightenment, many tried to look at history from a new and more open-minded perspective, and they romanticized antiquity. Some became desperate to turn the tables and paint Pagans as the victims. Ultimately, the attempts to oversimplify all the various Pagan religious from all over the world has been discredited, and the attempt to prove them going underground as a single surviving ancient cult has been debunked. Still, it was these oversimplified works that were prominent theories at about the time Wicca was forming, so it heavily influenced Wicca's formation.

To Wiccans, the Horned God motif fits in neatly in the Wheel of the Year, however it’s important to understand that just because many Wiccans worship a Horned God doesn’t mean they worship the same God.

Finally, not all Wiccans have a direct relationship with Horned Gods. Some Wiccans worship a Sun God, another god-type that fits neatly into the Wheel of the Year mythos and corresponds well to a Moon Goddess.

Remember also, that not all Gods are as easily “typecast”.

Hekate Triple Goddess

The Triple Goddess

The most commonly known triple deity form today is probably the trinity in Christianity. If one can understand how Christians see the father, the son and the holy spirit as three, distinct persons in one, then one can understand how Wiccans view the Triple Goddess. In Wicca, many Goddesses are seen as having three forms that mirror the stages of womanhood:

* The Maiden, who is the young, innocent, often (but not always) virginal beauty. She is independent and idealistic, ready to take on the world and looking to the future possibilities, filled with all the promise of what can be. She’s associated with youth, the time of coming of age, new beginnings, the new moon and spring fertility festivals.

* The Mother, who is mature, experienced lover and (often, but not always) parent. She is nurturing and protective, representing the selfless giving of oneself to sustain others. She's associated with family, children, domestic issues, growth, sexuality, the full moon, the summer (when she becomes pregnant) and winter (when she gives birth).

* The Crone, who is the wise, guiding, respected elder (but not necessarily grandmother) of the trio. She is strong and pragmatic. She represents the "dark" side-- fears, decay, and destruction. Not that this makes her 'evil'; rather, she's someone who guides us through some of the biggest challenges in her infinite wisdom. She's associated with changes and transformations (particularly the biggest transformation-- death and rebirth).

It should be noted that not all Goddesses fit neatly into a trio of Maiden, Mother and Crone. Ancient Pagans were not monotheists; they did not believe all Goddesses to be an aspect of the same divine feminine. It was the work of Robert Graves – another heavy influence, now debunked -- at the forefront of the Pagan revival who popularized this concept that eventually made its way into Wicca.

In ancient Paganism, trio Goddesses would have more often been three Maidens, three Mothers or three Crones. Just because a culture has a Maiden does not mean that they automatically must have a Mother and Crone counterpart. Historically speaking, this was not common. Even if a culture had Goddesses that would fit neatly into the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone categories, it should not be automatically assumed that they had a connection to each other.

Think of it this way: if you walked into a waiting room and found a college girl, a middle-aged mom, and a retiree, would you automatically assume they must be related because they occupy the same time and place? Of course you wouldn’t—the same thing can be said for Goddesses.

Most Goddesses will fit in at least one of these categories, but that’s simply because these are very generalized attributes. Not every Goddess in history is so easily stuffed in a box—many Goddesses can fit into more than one category. Consider Hestia, who can be simultaneously considered a Maiden Goddess (due to her virginity and never having children), but also a Mother Goddess (due to her association with domestic life, as keeper of the sacred hearthfires).

While the model of the Triple Goddess is useful in Wiccan mythos, a Wiccan must always be careful not to pigeonhole ancient Goddesses in groups of three.

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asarahworld-writes · 5 years ago

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One Trip

After a canonical adventure with Bill, Twelve ends up meeting a eighteen year old Rose, and they end up travelling together, despite the Doctor’s better judgment. Pretty soon his timeline starts reforming, and the Doctor begins to forget the previous timeline. By the time he’s mostly forgotten, Bad Wolf starts appearing again. Over a series of adventures, Bad Wolf continues to appear, and things escalate. By now, the Doctor can no longer remember why it’s a bad thing…

@doctorroseprompts It’s the Paternoster Gang rather than Bill, but I didn’t want to do Bill a disservice by grossly mischaracterizing her when I haven’t seen her episodes at the time I started this.

AO3 link

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She’s eighteen and so beautiful (and far too young for him) and he watches jealously as she takes Mickey’s hand. His eyes cloud as she pecks the boy’s cheek, angrily thinking that he doesn’t deserve her. They’re young and happy, carefree even, not giving the world around them a second thought. One day, soon for her but far in the past for him, he’ll take her hand and they’ll start to run. Not normally the type of man to reminisce, he smiles softly as he starts to remember the adventures they’d shared.

He’s running, she’s halfway down the block about to cross the street, unable to see the truck turning the corner. He slams to the pavement, his body shielding hers from gravel and other road debris. Mickey stands beside them, looking surprised and thoroughly shaken, but he barely registers in the Doctor’s mind. He’s far more concerned about Rose.

“Are you all right?” He asks urgently, helping her back to her feet. She winces as she gets up and he feels guilty for brief rush of pleasure he’d felt as she’d touched his hand. He reaches out to touch her shoulder, jerking back when Mickey slaps his hand away. “I’m a doctor,” he growls, examining Rose. Nothing, thankfully, is broken (though he suspects a serious sprain) and he promptly tells her so, pointedly ignoring the younger man. She thanks him for saving her life and he awkwardly tries to brush it off, desperately pretending not to know her. He can see the TARDIS a few feet behind her and knows that he needs to leave.

But Rose is here and she’s cautiously asking if he’d like to get chips, in return for saving her life. He looks at her, and he must have some strange expression on his face because she is smirking as if he’d answered ‘yes’. Mickey protests, saying that he’s a stranger, an old bloke who might spirit her away and kill her. Well, three out of four isn’t bad. There’s no denying the fact that he was so much older than either of them. Or that he had invited Rose to travel (alone) with him across the universe. (Or that she had died, killed by the Time Vortex running through her head.) But he wasn’t a stranger, not from his perspective. They walk to the chippy and the Doctor sees new timelines forming in his head. Timelines where his Ninth (tenth, the part of his mind that was the Warrior asserts) self never met Rose Tyler. He pushes the thoughts away.

Rose reaches for her chips, wincing once more and the Doctor realizes that she must be in pain. Without thinking, he calls the TARDIS and she materializes around them and he quickly asks for her to bring forward the medbay. Very begrudgingly, she acquiesces, gently reminding the Doctor that her Wolf was not yet ready to meet him. The Doctor ignores her, scanning her shoulder with the sonic and sighing when the TARDIS confirms his suspicion. He tapes her shoulder with a forty-second century wrap, the sprain should heal within the next few hours.

“Where are we?” Rose is looking at him, confused and scared, though to anyone else who didn’t know her she’d be doing a fine job of masking those emotions.

“It’s called the TARDIS, it’s a spaceship. Is that all right?” He says, not wanting to overwhelm her, though knowing that she’ll be able to take it in.

“Is it alien?” She looks around, at the foreign equipment, at the walls, and (finally) at him.

“Yes,” he says quietly, anticipating her next question from his original timeline.

“Are you an alien?”

He nods, not quite able to believe that she was here, in the TARDIS.

Rose looks at him, clearly trying to decide if he was telling the truth. “What’s your name?”

“I’m the Doctor.”

“The Doctor? Doctor what?” Some things, it seemed, were set in stone, the Doctor thought.

“Just the Doctor,” he beams, not quite believing the scene in front of him. Rose Tyler was in the TARDIS (with the Doctor, like she should be).

“Is that supposed to sound impressive?”

He lowers his hand from where it had been resting against his mouth. “Perhaps.” And perhaps he wasn’t as against flirting as he’d once thought.

“People just call you ‘the Doctor'?” Rose asked.

“Usually. I am, as you can see, a man of intrigue and mystery,” the Doctor couldn't help but grin.

A wheezing groan fills the air. The TARDIS had moved. Automatically, he takes Rose’s hand and runs to the console room. London, 1895. On the doorstep of 13 Paternoster Row. A knock sounds at the door.

“Open the door immediately or I shall open it by any means necessary!” The shout made by the Sontaran is just credible enough that the Doctor obeys. “Ah, Doctor. You had better go on in, Madame heard your TARDIS land.” Strax frowns, peering into the ship. “Where’s the boy? I see you’ve brought a new one along.”

The Doctor looks back at Rose. She would never be content to stay in the TARDIS while he went in. “Her name is Rose,” he breathes, savouring how her name rolled off his tongue.

“Where’s the other one?” Strax asks, remembering that his companion had been a young boy called Clara.

The Doctor ignores him, locking the door of the TARDIS. Rose looks from Strax to the inside of the house. “Where are we?”

“You know how I said that the box was a spaceship?” The Doctor asks, and Rose nods. “It also travels in time.”

“Is he an alien?”

“Yes.” Rose would be fine with this. “The lady of the house is not human, either.”

“Not human…but not an alien?”

She was brilliant. “She’s a Silurian. The first intelligent species on Earth. A highly advanced civilization that went into hibernation in anticipation of a meteor strike that never happened. What did happen was the rise of the planet of the apes. You lot evolved into humans.”

“Doctor,” a feminine voice enters the room and Rose looks up to see the Silurian woman. Her…scales were olive-coloured, and instead of hair she had three crests atop her head. At the sight of Rose, however, she hisses. “Strax did not mention the human. Where is Clara?”

“I don’t know.” His tone makes it clear – he does not wish to discuss her. Not when he has such a, dare he even think it, fantastic companion with him now.

“Who is this? Strax, why did you not say that there was a stranger in our midst?” Vastra calls for the alien.

“She is a companion of the Doctor,” the alien says, rather scathingly.

Vastra circles back to Rose. “Well, child?”

Rose looks to the Doctor, she trusted him (he’d saved her life), who simply watched her. The alien woman appears rather posh and so she elects to do a small, rather awkward, curtsey. “Hello.”

“Your new companion is remarkably calm.” Vastra eyes the Doctor. His companion. Perhaps she could travel with him. They could have a whole year together before she went back to meet the Ears. He shrugs, bringing his hand back to his mouth.

There is something…off, about his companion. Nothing wrong in the way that Clara’s echo had been, but Vastra has a feeling that the Doctor is up to something. There is something different about this girl, and Vastra is determined to learn what that is. There is a look in the Doctor’s eyes as well, softening whenever he looks at the young girl; if she hadn’t been so surprised, Vastra might have seen it for what it was – love.

There’s a knock at the door and a young, attractive woman bearing a tea tray enters the room.

“Well, what is your name?” The alien asks, accepting a cup of tea from the young woman. Silently, she hands tea around the room and Rose gratefully accepts, taking a calming drink before answering.

“’M Rose,” she says, and she sees a hint of something flash across the alien’s face. The woman takes a seat beside the alien, whispering to her. The Doctor jerks his head and the alien and the woman abruptly cuts off their private discussion, looking again at Rose with hard eyes. It’s only as Jenny takes her place beside her that Vastra realizes what the emotions are currently displayed on the Doctor’s face.

“Rose,” Vastra rolls the name over her tongue. “If you would excuse us for a moment.” The poor child nods and Vastra marches the Doctor out of the room, nearly slamming him against the wall. “Who is she,” she hisses. That the Doctor has become more reckless every time she sees him is concerning.

“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor answers, surprisingly open. Vastra frowns.

“Who is she to you,” she amends. She knows what a person in love looks like, and the Doctor has clearly fallen hard for the ape. He looks at her like she’s the centre of his universe, but the woman looks at him as if he’s a stranger. Woman. She’s barely a woman, no more than twenty, Vastra thinks.

The Doctor looks back to the door. “It’s a long story.”

“Then make it short,” Vastra presses. As bad as it is for the Doctor to travel alone, it’s not worth the risk to reality for the Doctor to interfere with his own past.

“I can hide her memories. Have a few more adventures with the love of my lives. I’m old, Vastra, and yet the rest of my lives have just begun anew. And already it’s been far too long since I’d last seen her. Two regenerations.”

“So you keep going back on her timeline every few regenerations and show her the universe over and over again? I am no expert on the human brain, but it seems to me that you would be constantly re-writing her future, while retaining the memories for yourself. And then what? How young is she now? How young will she be the next time?”

“And what would you do if it was Jenny,” the Doctor flipped the question. “If you had control over time itself and she was long gone, but you had the chance to have her back?” He knew the answer. Jenny had died, in this very room, when the Great Intelligence had tried to wipe out his entire timeline. An angry Silurian was not to be trifled with. But neither was a Time Lord.

“How dare you,” Vastra hisses and the Doctor takes a step back. “My Jenny died. She was murdered by the Great Intelligence before Clara reset the timelines.”

_Clara. _Again with Clara. Who was this mysterious Clara and why did he have a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he ought to know who she was?

“Yes, and I lost Rose Tyler to a parallel universe. Jenny is with you every hour of every day – I have not seen Rose Tyler in millennia.” The Doctor fires back. Vastra had brought up valid points to his situation, but the Doctor did not want to listen.

“You can not go around plucking people from their timelines, especially when it affects your own,” Vastra counters. “From what I understand, you left her happy.”

“It broke the both of my hearts to do that,” the Doctor admits quietly.

“But you gave her yourself,” Vastra says gently. “How many people could do that?”

The Doctor turns, leaving the room. After a moment, the Detective follows. The Doctor was in love, besotted to the point that he was endangering his self.

One trip. One trip, and he'd take her home. One trip and he'd lock away her memories of this him. One trip to steal a day from his past self (more literally stolen from Rickey), to have one more memory of Rose Tyler. He takes Rose by the hand to escort her back aboard the TARDIS, puts the ship back into the Vortex, and asks to see her injured shoulder. Rose immediately shrugs out of her hoodie and it hits the Doctor like a ton of bricks that she's the most beautiful sight that he has ever beheld. How he ever could have forgotten her beauty is a mystery. He does a quick scan with his screwdriver, the test results appearing on the console viewer. Completely healed.

“That was the past,” the Doctor says, with an air of nonchalance. “How does the future sound? Or even better, an alien world. You met an ancient inhabitant of the Earth, and her wife. So for something different,” he grins suddenly. “First door on the left is the wardrobe. The TARDIS likes you, she doesn't normally move rooms around.” To say that he stretched the truth… the TARDIS loved Rose like no other companion.

Rose was gone twenty-four point one two minutes exactly. When she returned, gone was her pink on pink shirt. That the ship had picked the outfit was clear – her shirt was a shimmering lacey sort of material, layered over thick silver tights. Her soft trainers had been replaced by a pair of worn but sturdy boots. “You look, nice,” he stumbles over the words, silently cursing himself. She looked stunning, as ever, and the Doctor marvelled at her exquisiteness. He holds out his arm, rather stiffly, his hearts pounding in his throat as she takes it.

“Have we really moved again? Where are we? _When _are we?”

“It's called Woman Wept. About two thousand years in your future,” [six hundred years forward from his last visit to the planet] the Doctor snaps and the TARDIS doors open.

“It's beautiful,” Rose doesn't let go of his arm as she steps outside. Privately, the Doctor thinks that the beauty of the planet pales in comparison to the young human [too young, the voice in the back of his head says] at his side [like she should be, he bites back]. He allows Rose to lead him across the planet, taking in not only the sight of Rose but her experience of the new planet.

Unbidden, his first memory of seeing Rose on an alien world comes to the front of his mind. Well, among alien people, he amends, remembering Platform One. They walk in silence, and the Doctor looks at Rose, knowing but still needing to guess what she’s thinking.

“People don’t live here, do they?” Rose asks.

“Depends what you mean by people. But, no, the planet hasn’t been colonized yet.”

“I mean people. What do you mean?” Again, she says something so like her proper introduction into his life that it jars the Doctor, snapping him back to the danger of the reality he is living. The touch of her hand in his overrides his rational mind and he easily answers that ‘people’ includes most sentient life forms. Like Vastra and Strax (and himself).

“Aliens. Sentient beings who lived on the Earth before the rise of apes. Humans. Nonhumans,” the Doctor strives for nonchalance.

Rose looks out at the glacial mountains. “What’s your planet like?”

Of course she would want to know. But with Gallifrey…missing, he felt even less like speaking of his homeworld than usual. “Twin suns set over the red fields, with a warm breeze rustling. The trees were silver and when the morning light hit them, the world looked like it was set afire.” He stopped his oddly poetic description, looking down as her free hand covered his.

“Sounds beautiful.” Rose’s face is alight with curiosity and wonder.

The Doctor shrugs. “The planet was nice enough, I suppose. I haven’t been there since… since the War.” The War. Yet another thing he did not want to think of. The Time Lords would be beyond furious with his actions. The way he was twisting the timelines right now was chaotic at best, universe-ending paradoxical at worse.

“I’m sorry,” Rose’s hand gently squeezes his own.

“Still, I’ve got the TARDIS. A whole universe to explore,” he grins. “Not a bad life.”

“There’s me,” Rose says softly. The Doctor looks at her face, trying to keep the more-than-friendly concern from showing.

“It’s been more than sixteen hours since you came onboard, you must be tired,” he deflected. “The TARDIS will have a room for you.”

The ship hums, both in agreement and chastising him. It’s dangerous keeping her with him, no matter how much they both have missed her.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #twelve x rose #one trip

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the-light-followed · 5 years ago

Text

THE COLOUR OF MAGIC (1983) [DISC. #1; RINCEWIND #1]

Rating: 5/10

Standalone Okay: Yes

Read First: NO.

Discworld Books Masterpost: [x]

* * * * * * * * * *

Ask any Discworld fan, and we’ll all pretty much universally agree that The Colour of Magic isn’t the pinnacle of the Discworld experience. Nobody really recommends that new readers should start here, even if it is the first book in the series chronologically. I’m pretty much a writing-order-equals-reading-order purist, for reasons best discussed elsewhere, and even I would absolutely never start people off with this one. (I tend to go for Going Postal or Wee Free Men—again, for reasons best discussed elsewhere.)

It’s not Pratchett’s best work. It’s not even his tenth best work. If I have to rate it (and I do, because that’s kind of the point, here), compared to the rest of Discworld, it’s down at the bottom of my list.

It’s pretty damn good, though, for what it is.

For me, it’s a genuine joy to read the early Rincewind books. This is because, in my head at least, it makes total sense that everything involved in them is baffling and strange when compared to the settled absurdism you get from other Discworld novels. Further into the series, it all feels a lot more comfortable and fleshed-out: yes, the things Pratchett writes about are often genuinely ridiculous, but usually the setting explains those things and packages them up neatly enough to make them acceptable. And the characters treat everything as perfectly normal, business as usual, so the reader is gently encouraged to do the same.

Thinking about it, I would argue that a lot of the Discworld shenanigans aren’t all that different from a lot of the real-world nonsense that we all just accept as totally normal. Discworld nonsense and our nonsense just come from different places. For us, it’s stuff like the fact that some cops still ride horses for absolutely no good reason, or that tipping is part of a server’s pay in an American restaurant, or that water is usually free but we all let movie theaters charge us like $5 for a bottle, and what’s that even about? In the Discworld, the thieves and assassins have unionized, and if you slip up, it’s entirely possible to just fall right off the edge of the world. It’s weird, and it’s not exactly fine, but it’s not about to kill us right this second, so we all just let it happen. We accept it.

This is not at all the case for our unwilling protagonist, the original Discworld hero-who-is-absolutely-not-a-hero, Rincewind. He’s scared of everything. He is a genuine, bona fide coward. Absolutely everything that happens leaves him baffled, terrified, and/or dismayed, and to tell the truth I unconditionally respect all of this about him, because most of the absolute bullshit nonsense going down around him is baffling, terrifying, and/or simply Not Good, and he and the reader have to learn to live with that together.

Over the course of this one novel, failed-wizard-slash-reluctant-guide Rincewind is:

Involved in burning down large parts of the city of Ankh-Morpork, because he left his friend unsupervised and the city really wasn’t ready for the invention of ‘insurance’ without the accompanying understanding of ‘insurance fraud.’

Chased, threatened, and variously menaced by a sentient suitcase known as the Luggage, which canonically has huge teeth, a mahogany tongue, hundreds of little legs, and an insatiable hunger for the flesh of its owner’s enemies. Also, it does your laundry if you leave it inside. Isn’t that nice?

Forced into a duel by dragon riders, where he must fight upside-down while wearing boots that basically Velcro-attach their wearers to the ceiling.

Captured, imprisoned, and scheduled to be sacrificed to the anthropomorphic personification of Fate in exchange for success in a scientific endeavor—specifically, checking the biological sex of the giant turtle carrying the Discworld on its back through the universe.

Dropped over the Rimfall, the waterfall at the edge of the Disc, which in Roundworld terminology is something like tripping and falling off the surface of the Earth and flying into the abyss of space.

Repeatedly almost forced to speak one of the Eight Great Spells that created the universe, which will do…something, possibly catastrophic, when spoken. No one knows exactly what it does. Rincewind certainly doesn’t. This spell attached itself parasitically to his brain years ago, and, in the meantime, has shoved all the other wizard-y type things he could have been doing right on out of there.

So, basically, he’s going through a lot. And this list isn’t everything, just the bits I pulled out by opening my book at random spots and reading a couple of lines. It kind of makes sense, in my opinion, that things feel a little topsy-turvy. Shit’s wild.

On top of that, I’d also argue that Pratchett is playing pretty fast and loose with plot and story structure in this book. It can feel sloppy at times, more like a bunch of little vignettes that have been strung together than a single, coherent storyline. The plot loosely wobbles along the tightrope strung between Rincewind’s uncanny luck, good and bad, and cheerfully-blockheaded-tourist Twoflower’s unstoppable ability to trample through the middle of every single situation that could possibly try to kill him. Very bad things happen, but somehow, they miraculously fail to die, and so Rincewind is still stuck shepherding Twoflower along through the next incident of someone or something trying to brutally murder them both. There’s no real greater plot or driving need, just Twoflower with his little camera, wanting to take pictures of every beautiful and dangerous part of the Disc.

If a rabid wolf the size of a bus came up and tried to eat him, Twoflower would take pictures of the inside of its mouth and say, “Oh, wow, I’ve never seen teeth that big before! Rincewind, won’t you take a picture of me with this magnificent beast?” And Rincewind wouldn’t answer, because he’d be half a mile away already and still moving fast, with nothing but a cartoon cloud of dust left behind to mark where he’d been.

[Here’s the boys, Rincewind and Twoflower, just doing their best. From the BBC two-part miniseries called The Colour of Magic, which actually spans the plot of both The Colour of Magic and The Light Fantastic. Yes, that is Samwise Gamgee playing Twoflower, and yes, I did get distracted by that a lot while watching. Twoflower has all of Sam’s earnest faith and absolutely none of his common sense.]

Fun!

The whole thing actually is pretty fun, though. It’s witty. It’s got something to say, even if that something is just “hey, aren’t all these identical High Fantasy Adventure books all overdramatic and ridiculous in the exact same ways?” Pratchett is writing this book as one massive joke he’s telling about the genre, the tropes, and the archetypes, and he does a pretty decent job even by today’s cultural standards, let alone the standards of 1983. Chances are that any point he’s making here in The Colour of Magic is something he’s going to make again, better, in a later book, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the seeds of something here.

As a main example, I’ll point out Liessa Dragonlady, who has arguably the biggest role in one of the major conflicts of this book. Liessa is initially presented as the quintessential High Fantasy barbarian warrior lady, which would typically be more about sex appeal than any actual skill—except that Liessa is actually highly intelligent, 110% more talented and qualified as a leader and warrior than her brothers or literally anyone on the protagonists’ team, and is aware the whole time that she’s struggling against the patriarchy and her society (and the tropes) in trying to take what should be her rightful place as leader of the Wyrmberg. The sexism exists in the Discworld, not in the writing.

[Liessa from the BBC’s The Colour of Magic, wearing—no joke—a crop top armor chest piece. Actually, I think it’s technically a bikini, based on the bottom half of the armor. Or should I say the lack thereof? Classic.]

Liessa is a decent example of Pratchett’s ability to look at the tropes and the reader’s expectations, and then go and take his writing somewhere else. But even so, I’d absolutely point to Monstrous Regiment or even Equal Rites first for anyone wanting to read a really solid exploration of femininity and what it means to be a woman in a traditionally ‘masculine’ field. Or I’d suggest just about any book starring the senior witches or Tiffany Aching for examples of well-rounded female characters that demand respect in a world specifically designed to not want to give it to them.

But that’s just one example. The Colour of Magic has the seeds of quite a few really good ideas that Pratchett will explore in more depth later on.

I think those seeds are part of what makes The Colour of Magic worth a read at some point, even if it’s never going to be anyone’s favorite Discworld book. I love seeing the foundations of Future-Discworld, that settled absurdism I was talking about earlier, in this. We’ve got our proto-Vetinari, long before he had a name, being generically threatening and Machiavellian and as close to ‘cackling evil overlord’ as it’s possible to get without actually cackling, or at least without some sort of thunderstorm rumbling in the background. Ankh-Morpork is a wonderfully scum-filled cesspit of depravity and immorality. There’s no effective City Watch to kick things into a rickety and leaking approximation of ship-shape, so it’s probably a good thing that the river Ankh is so thick with pollution that you don’t need a ship to cross it—you can just walk.

There’s even some early conceptualization of Pratchett’s special brand of everyday magic, the kind that will show up over and over again in the Discworld: the idea that even with a reality full of gods and wizards and hyper-powerful, monstrous things, there’s still a lot of power in everyday, ordinary people.

Pratchett is all about belief. He preaches the importance of the self, in terms of making reality into the place we think it should be. In Pratchett’s world, the things we believe in matter, and not just in a philosophical sense. Belief is a real, tangible form of magic—in this book, specifically, Twoflower manages to summon an entire dragon out of nothing, just because he believes strongly enough that dragons should exist the way he’s always dreamed them to be. In later books, sheer belief and willpower are shown to create and fuel gods and spirits, to contain quasi-demonic entities of vengeance and darkness, and to form the backbone of every other more ‘traditional’ type of magic.

It’s nice to see the early forms of it here. I’m not going to get too into it, because it’s going to show up a lot in later books in more significant ways (I’m thinking Hogfather, Small Gods, and even Pyramids) and I don’t want to beat that horse to death just yet, but it’s one of the foundation stones of the Discworld. It’s somehow comforting to know that it’s been here since the very beginning.

It’s also funny as hell to see the stuff that Pratchett will eventually change, soften, or drop entirely as he settles into the way the Discworld will work. Did you know there are eight seasons on the Discworld? And that in my 1985 edition of the book, the footnote where he explains these eight seasons takes up the bottom half of two entire pages?

That’s one single footnote there. The first ever footnote, even, and it’s almost a full page long and utterly ridiculous. It’s incredible, and I love it a lot. I also love that almost none of the details here are ever mentioned again, and if they are, it’s never in a significant or memorable way—and Pratchett certainly doesn’t waste a whole page on any of them ever again. Well, except for Hogswatch, because Pratchett knows when he’s got a real winner. It might have taken him thirteen years, but he wrote a whole damn book about it, and we all can agree that Hogfather is a joy and a delight.

Not so much “Autumn Prime,” “Crueltide,” “Winter Secundus,” and blah blah blah etcetera whatever. I’m not ashamed to admit that I forgot them while I was literally still in the middle of reading them. And what the hell is “Reforgule of Krull”? No clue. It’s total nonsense, never seen again, and I think we can all agree we are fine with this.

On second thought, I think Pratchett does end up using Hubward and Rimward pretty regularly as directions. But without this info-dump, when reading other books, I think that even I figured out how “Hubward” and “Rimward” work on a flat plate of a world with a Hub in the center and a Rim along the outside. And I am so bad with maps and directions that I literally get confused trying to give people directions to the parking lot outside my work.

I’m no good at wrapping these things up, so I’m ending this post the same way that Pratchett ends the book: with Rincewind abruptly falling off the edge of the Disc.

[Originally, I was going to go hunt down some fanart or something, but I don’t have permission to use any of that, so instead you get my doodles off the scrap paper I steal from work. Luckily for everyone, I’m an artistic genius. The dot representing Rincewind obviously isn’t to scale, since one human person would be much smaller than that, but if it represents the size of his body and the size of his scream, then it’s basically accurate.]

* * * * * * * * * *

Side Notes:

Rincewind’s insane luck, good and bad, is because he’s a favorite of the goddess referred to only as ‘the Lady,’ since invoking her true name means she has to leave. She’s the anthropomorphic personification of Luck itself, and she’s the reason Rincewind always survives whatever terrible situation he finds himself in—but also the reason he’s stuck in that situation in the first place.

Everything that goes wrong, and the dramatic escape that inevitably follows, is because the Lady likes to play dice games with Fate, using normal people on the Disc as game pieces.

Rincewind, it turns out, is the human equivalent of her favorite Monopoly token. (The iron, maybe? It has the same sort of Looney Tunes cartoon-anvil vibe as Rincewind’s whole, well, everything.)

Death as a character makes his first appearance in The Colour of Magic. However, here it’s implied he actually is involved somehow in the killing process, and his role can be filled in by apparently random low-level demons on their days off, whereas later books make it clear he just collects and shepherds the dead onward, and actually the issue of his replacement is a big deal, cosmically speaking.

Pratchett sort of avoids this issue by claiming that Rincewind’s life timer is so complicated and convoluted (because of all the weird accidents and magical incidents) that Death just can’t tell when he’s actually supposed to die.

I guess Death shows up every time it looks like Rincewind might kick the bucket, just in case? And in that case, all the threatening stuff he says to Rincewind in these early books must be because he’s so irritated that he has to keep coming out for no reason, only to find that Rincewind has, once again, managed to survive. And maybe the low-level demon showing up instead was just, uh, Death trying to scare him into actually beefing it, this time…?

Although the Unseen University Librarian exists and is human for the entirety of this book and only this book, he does not appear at any point. He’s briefly referenced—or, at least, a librarian is referenced, but this is referring back when Rincewind was young and read the grimoire that left one of the Eight Great Spells parasitically attached to his mind. There’s no guarantee it’s the same librarian, and based on the turnover (read: murder) rate of University wizards at the time, I don’t think it’s likely that anyone managed to hold onto their job that long. On Google, I did find a thing where someone cut together some shots of him in human form from The Colour of Magic BBC show, so that’s pretty fun:

Once he’s changed into an orangutan in The Light Fantastic, he’s described as still looking a bit like the human Librarian: with that beard and hair combo, I think they nailed it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Favorite Quotes:

“Inn-sewer-ants-polly-sea.”

“She was the Goddess Who Must Not Be Named; those who sought her never found her, yet she was known to come to the aid of those in greatest need. And, then again, sometimes she didn’t. She was like that.”

“It was all very well going on about pure logic and how the universe was ruled by logic and the harmony of numbers, but the plain fact of the matter was that the Disc was manifestly traversing space on the back of a giant turtle and the gods had a habit of going round to atheists’ houses and smashing their windows.”

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.”

“‘I’m sure you won’t dream of trying to escape from your obligations by fleeing the city…’ ‘I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord.’ ‘Indeed? Then if I were you I’d sue my face for slander.’”

“It was octarine, the colour of magic. It was alive and glowing and vibrant and it was the undisputed pigment of the imagination, because wherever it appeared it was a sign that mere matter was a servant of the powers of the magical mind. It was enchantment itself. But Rincewind always thought it looked a sort of greenish-purple.”

#the colour of magic #discworld #rincewind #I don't know why I'm doing this #and I don't think anyone will actually read this #but if you do come talk to me!!#I'm going to be going through every single discworld book this year and writing up one of these #and I want to hear what people have to say #also tell me when I'm wrong because there's forty one books of material to go through and I'm absolutely going to miss stuff and mess up

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hillnerd · 6 years ago

Note

I just wanted to ask how do you imagine Ron and Hermione getting together if we have fem!Harry. How do you think it will affect the dynamics of the Trio. Can you write a headcanon for this situation just like you did with genderbend Ron and Hermione?

Fun!

Ok, well fem!Harry would have different gender dynamics happening. Harriet Potter- prefers to go by Harry. Ron and Harry being best friends from the get go would turn more heads, given how very prone to boy and girl clannishness we see in school age kids, where they tend to stick to their own group. (This dynamic still holds strong- but is being more actively challenged today.) I think Ron would be even MORE protective of Harry, given how Ron is so chivalrous. I think it would throw Ron’s mothering into overdrive when she’s being attacked.

Harry might not initially LIKE Hermione- but she does have a bit of a kindred-ness with her, as in their dorm they’re the two girls who aren’t as traditionally feminine. I see Harry having rejected traditional femininity a bit because 1) Petunia is all about that 2) she wasn’t allowed to even meet those standards with Petunia as she was still just given Dudley’s hand-me-downs etc- so decided to reframe it for herself that it was more a ‘choice’ to reject those standards.

After the troll incident, they have Hermione as a friend, and Ron finds himself with two girls as his best friends- something that makes him stand out as a bit odd- so I can see him sort of saying ‘well, Harry’s practically a boy!’ as sort of a justification he puts forth when given flack.

Ron gets on with Harry much more naturally at first- but finds Hermione to be a lot more fun than he originally thought she could be. She’s fun to debate with, way more talkative than Harry about all sorts of stuff, likes to get into observing people and indulging his more ‘analytical/deep’ side than most people have ever bothered with him. The two of them are able to have a lot of fun without Harry around, actually. He loves to bro around with Harry though, as the two of them can just have fun and BE without any expectations for behavior, and they have a ton in common.

Harry and Hermione end up being a bit closer than they were in the books, as she and Hermione share a dormroom, and Harry is socialized that it’s more ok to open up about emotions and things like that- so she might confide a bit more in Hermione than she ever did as male!Harry.

Ron would not have that ‘I’m competing with Harry’ dynamic going on- so he’d actually be a lot more confident. He’d be the ‘lead male’ of the Gryffindor boys in this scenario, which would help him to feel like he does indeed stand out a bit more.

Now, when it comes to shipping, I think of Harry as a bisexual disaster in this scenario- and Ron’s little sister Ginny is taken with Harry. They think it’s just she looks up to her- after all Ginny is super into quidditch and being tough- and there’s this girl who embodies all of that! She’s a rolemodel she’s been looking up to! And Ginny is fairly convinced that’s all she’s feeling towards Harry- as this is the 90s and being queer is not talked about very much.

Second and Third year go as they did in the books for the most part- not much different.

Fourth year is when things would really be different. Ron has these two female best friends- and they’re all growing up and junk. Stupid hormones! He gets flack from Harry and Hermione about his reaction to Fleur- (as I’m just going to pretend that veela magic is as heteronormative in how it works as it was in the books :P) Rita Skeeter quickly writes a story about Harry and Ron being together, and Hermione is starting to shut down a bit on them after wards. Then there is the yule ball. Harry asks Ron immediately to be her date as she doesn’t know any other boy she’d rather go with. He says yes, and Hermione is even colder towards Harry.

Ron realizes if he could have chosen a date, he probably would have chosen Hermione. Afterall, he’s always ‘seen her as a girl,’ vs with Harry he sort of looked at her as a sister figure? Another bro? He finds out Hermione is going with someone else, and feels torn about it. I mean- he was already going with Harry- he should be fine. Why does it matter who she’s going with. He asks Harry about it and Hermione never told her a thing and is being very cold with her for some reason. Ron thinks maybe she’s a bit jealous of the champion/yule ball stuff? But until this point Hermione had seen normal about it all. Harry and Ron decide all girls are weird, and Harry is the exception. :P

They go to the yule ball, and she and Ron have a good time- though Ron is a bit embarrassed by his robes. Harry is looking pretty- and so is Hermione- who turns out to be with Krum of all the random people. Ron’s put off seeing Hermione with him, but it’s not quite as miserable as he has Harry with him. Harry’s a bit pining after Cho, but she doesn’t know what to do with this information really- as you’re not supposed to like girls, right? She turns her attention to Ron- who she’s always just thought of as a mate. Maybe their closeness is something… more? She doesn’t know. Growing up is hard.

They go outside and Harry sees all the couples around them, and decides she should ask Ron if he’d ever thought about doing coupley things with her, and Ron is thrown for a loop. He hadn’t, in all honesty, thought about it. Harry quickly says she feels the same way, and they leave it at that. Though now they’re both wondering if there IS something to explore between them.

Hermione finally confronts Harry towards the end of the year- is there any truth to the rumors Rita had put forth about Harry and Ron? At first she had dismissed them, but she started to get more and more worried- after all Ron and Harry get along so much more peacefully than she and Ron. The two of them have so much in common. Harry tells her how they have never done anything romantic… but Hermione pushes and asks if maybe they would. Harry has to admit, she couldn’t rule Ron out. Hey have so much in common after all… And he is cute. Hermione seems uptight about this but seems to be back to normal with Harry.

Fifth year it all starts coming to a head- the romantic tensions happening with the trio. Ron is taken with Hermione, thinks she’s beautiful amazing wonderful etc- but is too afraid to try anything, as she has never demonstrated much in the way of romance with him (that he could detect)- but Harry has.

So one night they’re done with a disastrous practice- and Ron is feeling utterly gutted, so Harry stays with him to comfort him, and she is telling him how great he is, and it feels so nice to be told all this- and Ron and Harry kiss. It’s nice, they guess, and comforting. So they give it a go of things. Might as well, yeah? Everyone always teased and thought they would get together. They’re each other’s first kiss, and first romance. Hermione is completely heart broken.

She goes to cry somewhere, and Ginny finds her - Hermione ends up telling her everything. Ginny is secretly jealous of her brother- as she’s beginning to recognize how much she like Harry as more than just girl friends- and Hermione is hurting so badly she never wants to see her friends again- but Ginny talks her round.

Ron and Harry try to do the romance thing- but it ends up being weird. Like, it’s nice in a lot of ways- but then in others they just don’t seem to mesh- it’s like something they can’t name is missing between them. And Ron keeps thinking of Hermione, every time they kiss. It’s so messed up and he doesn’t know what to do. It makes sense to be with Harry, right? He and Hermione make so much less sense on paper. Half the time he thinks she barely even likes him!

So Rarry date for a few months before Harry asks him if they're dating just because everyone thinks they SHOULD and it’s easy to do since they’re best friends, or if they genuinely are wanting to be romantically involved? Ron has to admit after thinking about it that he’s not sure. He was comforted in the attention and kissing- and Harry is very pretty and everything- but yeah… Do they romantically love one another? Neither know, as they’ve never been in love before. They decide to break up to see- I mean- if you break up and you don’t long to be together then that’d answer it, right?

The experiment works- they liked being together- but don’t particularly miss it other than the comfort it brought. Plus, Ron still has feelings for Hermione he hasn’t been able to forget. Hermione is forced to confront how she has approached things with Ron up to this point- as she sees a clear example of how you go from from friends to something more. She’s also even less certain, though, how Ron could ever ever like her.

Ginny’s been watching all this nonsense going on, along with Harry’s PTSD and how depressed she is, and how the trio have seemed ‘off’ since everything that went down with all this Ronarry Romione stuff happening. She reaches out to Harry to talk to her, and Harry finds Ginny to be very comforting. She’s upset over wanting to see Sirius, she’s upset because Hermione is being weird with her, and she’s upset because Ron has been a tiny bit more distant from her- and she’s feeling so isolated! So Ginny is a good person to talk to in all this. They bond a bit more closely than they did in OotP due to the added isolation on Harry’s plate.

Romione have great romantic tension happening that is way more at the forefront than it would have been. By the end of the year it seems to have almost peaked- but the two are too afraid to go for it. Harry is afraid to say anything, as she feels she is the cause for everything going so wrong between them all in the first place.

Sixth year Harry starts to realize how integral to her happiness Ginny is- and she and Ginny are steadily growing closer and closer. This leaves Ron and Hermione together even more, and Hermione is realizing that she needs to make a move with Ron. Obviously Ron and she could go back to being friends if it didn’t work out- just like Ron and Harry had. She keeps getting close to saying something then chickens out- Then the big push happens when Lavender starts showing signs of liking Ron. SHE’S NOT GOING TO LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN!

So she pulls Ron aside one night when Harry has a lesson with Dumbledore and the common room is somehow empty. She can’t contain herself and straight up confesses.

‘Ron… I think I like you…’ she confesses, just knowing he’ll burst out laughing at her.

‘You do?’ Ron asks feeling something amazing filling him- some sort of overwhelming feeling.

‘I…do’ Hermione can barely bring herself to say anything else, she feels so vulnerable and crazy and afraid and-

And then Ron leans in and kisses her. It doesn’t feel anything like when he and Harry kissed. It’s not a mechanical sort of pleasure- it’s something deep and fulfilling and beautiful. It is passionate, perfect, they’re giddy from it. They talk a bit- decide to make a go of it- and are kissing again when

Harry walks in on them.

They have a moment filled with fear- will this hurt Harry? Will she be ok with this? Will she be angry? But after a moment of stunned silence, she smiles at them. A broad open smile. It’s not forced. She’s genuinely happy for them.

They’re happily together from then on- and Harry is very happy for them, though feeling a bit lonely and a lot like a third wheel- but she has Ginny to indulge in- and the romantic tension builds over the year between Hinny- coming to a head with their Gryffindor victory- and they are hugging each other to celebrate, then there is something heated in their glance- they don’t quite lose themselves so much they kiss in front of everyone (again 90s and internalized worries about showing queerness is a thing)- but as soon as they are outside the common room they are kissing- and much like with Romione above- they feel whole and know this is very very real between them. The passion, love, comfort and feeling of wholeness can’t be denied. Harry finds that missing piece of happiness when she’s with Ginny.

Harry and Ginny would not be public about their relationship, except to Romione and a few close friends- given how young they are and how queer relationships were taken in at that time, and they would be very supported by the people that know. Romione ships they harder than anyone. So do Luna and Neville.

Harry doesn’t have to break up with Ginny since the relationship is hidden. So with the Locket- it DOES pray on Hermione’s uncertainty of Rarry- Hermione almost leaves- but she and Ron have been dating so very long at this point that it can’t break the trio up.

Everything else plays out the same- and they all live happily ever after- with Hinny having the cutest lesbian wedding ever and Romione equally having the cutest damn relationship you can imagine.

#romione #rarry #harriet potter #genderbent #genderbender #Anonymous

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