#yes. a lot of sex workers struggle. and i do have a character who Did It (and in one au still does it)

[gloopdimension]

ages ago on my main i got an ask telling me i should stop giving so many characters sex work swag bc i was making light of the struggle sex workers go through when they work. or something.j

[pleasantspark]

My partner literally defends this show a lot and in VC he tries to "dispute it" so here's the full list of issues wrong with this show, you ALL have the fucking excuse as "no creative control", "endgame and slowburn", "You watch spliced up clips.", "It's Hell!"

No Creative Control: ViziePops characters would have IMMEDIATELY been changed COMPLETELY if that were the case.

Endgame and Slowburn: A ship being fucking depicted as going through a crisis every fucking minute and taking over an episode that was meant for two other characters? While also ruining a Parent Child bond? "Endgame" my ass, also lets not forget a character sexually harassed another character and was not depicted as calling that character out, "Couple Goals" my ass too. Slowburn is non-existent in this world.

You watched spliced up clips: HONEY the only clips I watch are those that ACTUALLY are relevant to my fucking point, Are we even watching the same damn thing? Also edits are beyond that.

It's Hell: Ah yes, so it's hell, no it's fucking downtown Los Angelos thats DISGUISED as Hell, Hell would be more "chaotic" and more "consequencal" most of the demons there are LIVING IT UP, and continiuing their lives much as they were alive. There's nothing different from when they are alive. It seems like Hell is LITERALLY Heaven. The only consequence is that demons seemed to get harassed or at the minimal killed, so next time I stab someone in Jail, I can go and say "IT'S JAIL!"

I feel as though people who compare ViziePops Harassment to Rebecca Sugar's harassment is completely stupid af.

Rebecca was harassed because someone decided to make a 1 hour long video trashing her show and indirectly called her a neo-nazi which caused other people to parrot the accusations as well, Rebecca was harassed by her fans just for standing up for a fan who was getting sent death threats over a FUCKING art style.

Afaik, Viv's harassments is just criticism of how she handled the pilot actors (And apparently Cherri Bomb's pilot VA had lost her Husband due to a medical ailment and she was trying to raise money to help fund the expenses that were left behind and fucking Viv said, Nuh uh, and shut that shit down. KNOWING PEOPLE PAID FOR THAT SHIT, I mean can Viv LEGALLY take down VA who impersonate her characters? Sure it's her IP but it doesn't mean that the VA for the original CB is her.), how she drew something I am not about to get into because quite frankly it's not my business (And I mean MOST of the creators, Rebecca included, had drawn some fucked up shit in the past.). She also apparently mistreats her workers. And afaik Sugar never did any of that.

You can scream "Oh but Viv has a LOT of struggles and [Rebecca Sugar] is just like her!!" all you want, but THERE'S nothing similar to her and Rebecca and the only thing similar is they make tv shows with diversity and are both females.

Don't get me wrong, I love HelluvaHazbin but people needlessly finding excuses for poorly written shows and bad pacing/decisions while also holding Viv on a pedestal infuriates me, and the worse part is, allegedly she never received criticism in her college years.

I ain't gonna sugar coat it, the LGBTQ+ Rep in this show is completely for the fujoshi and as a Trans Male whose Gay, I am HIGHLY disturbed about how most of the Gay characters are depicted as "Uwu Soft boys who could do no wrong"

Like for FUCKS sake, we're NORMAL PEOPLE, we don't get treated any differently by a standard hetrosexual, the only time we get treated differently is by angry Facebook Prudes and edgy fuckers who think being scared of homes is the new norm.

I am surprised most of the fandom (On tumblr) don't call out the problematic shit, when THE LGBTQ+ is prominent here! The more you continue to agree and like these "rep ships" the more you're giving these people the okay to continue to drive the show WHICH WAS BASED OFF OF "Assassinations" now turned into "Arguements between a same sex couple that has one victim and one gaslighter"

A little tidbit for those who stand with Stolas.

An Abuse Victim can be a Abuser.

It's not that difficult. Jfc. Anyways, this is my reason why I made Biblically Inaccurate to begin with.

[boldlyvoid]

New Romantics | Part Four

18+

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*

Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,

Word Count: 5k

a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue

She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”

“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”

“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”

She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”

He nods, “can we just call it even?”

“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”

“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.

She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.

“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.

“Come here?”

She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”

“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”

He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”

It hurts, “I love you, too.”

She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.

“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”

“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.

“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”

“Yeah,” he nods again.

It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.

She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.

Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.

As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”

“Yes, please.”

She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”

“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.

“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”

And the dam breaks.

“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.

“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”

“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”

“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.

She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.

He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”

“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”

“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.

“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”

“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”

“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”

“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.

“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”

“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”

She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.

“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Why?”

She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”

“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”

“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”

He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”

“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”

His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.

“I love you, too.”

—

All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.

The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.

“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.

The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.

“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”

She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”

“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.

“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”

“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”

“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.

He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.

“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”

“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.

It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”

“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”

It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”

“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”

When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.

“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.

“What would they be?”

“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”

“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.

“I’m really sorry.”

“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”

“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”

She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”

“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.

“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.

“Anything?”

“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”

He nods, “forever?”

She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”

He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”

“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.

She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”

“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.

She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.

She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.

“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”

“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.

“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”

“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.

“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.

She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.

He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.

He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.

She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”

“I love you,” he shrugs.

He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”

He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”

He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.

With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.

With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.

She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.

“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.

“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.

“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.

He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.

She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.

“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”

“You need to go,” she smiles.

He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.

He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...

—

She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.

It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.

“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.

“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”

“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.

She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”

“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.

“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.

“How do you know about Elle?”

“She’s the first person he slept with?”

“When?” They both shout.

“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”

They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”

“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”

“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”

“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.

“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”

There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.

It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.

She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.

When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.

It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”

“Don’t you have to debrief?”

“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”

“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”

She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”

“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”

“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”

“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.

“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”

“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”

“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”

“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.

—

She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.

He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.

He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.

When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”

“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”

“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”

He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”

Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”

“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.

“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”

“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.

“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”

“Can we get in bed first?”

“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.

But until then, he belonged to her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”

“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”

“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”

“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”

“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”

“Me too.”

“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.

She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”

“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.

“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”

“Would you like to Marry me?”

“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.

He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”

“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”

“Why?”

“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.

“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”

“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”

He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.

“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”

~

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[ruffiorocks]

Soooo, a little (a lot) late to the party, but I just finished watching The L Word: Generation Q season 2: My takeaways:

• Finnley is a mess and ruining someone's wedding is cliche and a really selfish move. Its not romantic, its not cute and she deserved the punch in the face.

• Sophie gives both Dani and Finn the run around and it's not cool. Especially when she goes and sleeps with Dani again. Then she sings that song for Fin right IN FRONT of Dani!

. Shane is shane, she and Tess are perfect and I hope season 3 (if there is one has them together).

. Angie's storyline is done really well and the actress is really good to. Spoiler! It was so sad she didn't get to meet Marcus, but also very obvious that's what was going to happen. She and her girlfriend are really cute and that Prom Proposal was adorable.

. Alice! YES!! Finally they remembered that Alice is bisexual! They even snuck in a Easter egg with Bette's (past) opinions on bisexuality.

. I really liked Sophie's idea for unsung LGBT+ heroes, but why did we only see one couple?

. Tom is adorable and Perfect, a precious bean who must be protected and I hope he and Alice get more time together and they don't just ruin it by having a rejected proposal and we never see him again.

. Gigi, yeah.... I'm not to invested in her character, but she was good to Dani. I do however feel really bad for how she was treated by Bette!

. Alice's chapter on Dana 😭😭 right in the feels!

. Micah is a great guy, I'm not too sure about his love interests this season though. Mirabel is great and they have a cute friendship, the horse riding scene was cute but I think it went to "I'm in love with you" way to fast and she seemed reluctant and then didn't even tell her family they were dating (while perfectly happy to spill Sophie's drama). We got snippets of her struggles, her mum thinking she won't have to worry about dating, but that's something that could have been explored a bit more. Honestly, I found myself rooting for Micah and his co-worker.

. Tina, oh Tina, was she even there? She just pops up for a few minutes and is gone. She's defined by her relationship with Bette, that it, that's all Tina has. Even when she's being there for Angie, Bette is there. When's she's talking to her fiancé, it's all about Bette. The original series at least tried to give her storylines that weren't completely about Bette.

. Which brings us to Carrie, oh poor, loveable Carrie. Carrie is defined almost entirely by Bette as well. Every scene she's in its either with Bette or its a conversation about Bette. Seriously Tina, marry this woman who quite clearly loves you and can see your conniving ex for who she truly is.

. Which bring us to Bette f**king Porter! My God I hate this woman!! I hated her when I was a teenager and I hate her now! Bette (other than Jenny) is the worst character and I can't understand why people love her so much. She's not changed, she still a self centered, selfish, stuck up arsehole and I can't take to her. From the get go she's just a bully to Carrie who's just being nice. She uses women (Gigi) for sex and then can't be arsed with them later on. The moment something doesn't go her way she turns on Dani, she didn't even give her a chance to speak before she got all on her high horse and was nasty. She practically stalked that artist to get what she wanted, even though she had been told no. That's the thing about Bette, if she wants it, sex or even someone to be in an art show, she feels she has the right to keep going. Also, what is with Bette Porter and sleeping with people she works with?!!! I knew exactly how the therapy session would go and how she would flip out at Angie and I was right. But mostly what I can't stand about Bette is her constant need to have Tina but also other women. She has always been like this, she likes to have control of Tina or at least have Tina as a back up while she goes out and sleeps with other women. She was damn right Evil with what she did in the last episode, playing nice with Carrie on to basically tell her fiancé she's still in love with her. Then to top it off, they had door mat Tina turn up at Bette's door. TIBETTE SUCKS!! I've never quite gotten over Bette trying to force Tina to have sex with her and I never will. Come at me, I don't care.

.oh and Shane?! Telling home wrecker Bette that a VERY drunk woman was having pre wedding doubts (caused by said homewrecker) is a shitty thing to do! Bette took that bait and just thought "I can get what I want now".

. Fin went to rehab! Good stuff!

. Dani? You knew you would be in contempt of court and yet you went drinking and look surprised when you're arrested? Gigi you didn't help here.

. The Nat and Alice polyamory storyline (minus Gigi) felt rushed to me. Nat doesn't even think too much about Alice and jumps straight in. Honestly it felt like the season 2 writers just wanted Nat gone.

. The singing was great, I'll even applaud Bette for her part in Love Shack.

. Finally, Dani's dad is awful!!!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

for the character ask game: Madam, lady Roberta Messerole? 👀

Madam!! Ah, be still my beating heart. I'm going to spouse her. Watch out, gentlepeople of the Disc. I'm in town and I'm winning her love.

one aspect about them i love: her pragmatic realism. She gets how to do coups and I respect that about her. I love all her meddling in politics and how she'll get bored of a city's political field and move on to the next and it's just like...a past time of hers. Shit disturbing on a large level. Chaos demon. Beautiful. I love that for her.

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: She's such a minor character, it's hard to say on this one. I suppose people don't lean into the fact that she's a sex worker as much as they could? She's like the very expensive Venetian courtesans, but that's still sex work. The ones whose houses were used as spaces for political intrigue because of how tightly controlled aspects of Venetian political society were. Plague by-laws had to specify between situations where brothels closed and when courtesans couldn't host dinner parties anymore. Anyway, that's Madam.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: She's Vetinari's mum, obviously. Aside from that? She definitely plays the field in terms of all genders. She's bi of sexual and it shows because her favourite colour is purple. You're welcome, world. Also, I think she very much climbed her way to the top of her field, so to speak, and is self-educated, self-taught in a lot of things so when she got knocked up via Money Pants von Money Pants Lord Vetinari's dad, she's like GREAT THIS IS EXCELLENT and sent him to all the best schools, hired the best tutors, made sure he never wanted for anything in his life ever. Did this mean she was a bit of an absent parent? Yes. Did she struggle in how to Parent Properly at times? Especially for someone like Vetinari? Yes. But boy howdy did she at least make sure his monetary and physical needs were always met in spades. Vetinari has zero (0) idea what it is to not have money/financial security. Madam is the exact opposite.

as well as

one character i love seeing them interact with: Vetinari, of course. Because she's such a Mom(tm) and he's being a snotty sixteen year old. All like, "if I told you I'd have to kill you" and she's like "ok honey. sure dear, you're very scary and ferocious. You better not tell me then. Also, you missed a spot wiping off your war paint" and he's all "MOM DON'T CLEAN MY FACE I AM NOT A CHILD." Madam stares. Vetinari stares back. Vetinari is snobbish about her cat not being suitable for someone who is a political mastermind then turns into his mom and adopts a dog not suitable for a tyrant. It's all so chaotic and I love it.

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: Downey. Rosie, probably. I would love to see what their relationship was like in detail. Like, was Madam a mentor to Rosie? Were they more business partners? Did she overlook Rosie's potential, somehow? Like, I'd love to know the details on that.

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: I think Madam is rather chaotic in a lot of ways. I don't think she's neat or tidy and her office is like a hurricane whirled through, her closet is insane, her house very clearly Lived In. She's like Downey and very of the opinion of "That's what servants are for". But also, she's just not a tidy person with or without servants. And that is one of the reasons Vetinari is the extreme opposite. Madam is opulence and gold and designer everything everywhere and Vetinari would live in a minimalist Scandinavian-chic modern house if he could. Loves his mum, but she's a sensory overload for him sometimes.

(I have Downey being more of a balance since he's outgoing and chaotic but also appreciates order and Things Being in Their Place - literally and metaphorically. Madam is here to be a trickster chaos demon and I'm going to marry her.)

Thank you so much!! <3 <3 she's a fun one because there's like nothing out there about her. She's such a blank slate.

[bangtanlalaland]

around the way girl | knj (m.)

synopsis ↳namjoon kim was the man you’d fallen in love with in college, while existing in a society where ambw relationships are rare.

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1990’s!au; strangers to lovers!au

→pairing: underground rapper!kim namjoon x beauty supply store worker!black female reader

→genre: fluff, smut

→word count: 4.7k+

→contents ⨯ warnings: that beautiful, interracial love (AMBW) [if you’re racist, fuck off my page!] some major fluff action here, joon is so soft, (I stg he’s a dom but also a hopeless romantic. the DUALITY. agsgsjlldlejd), rapper joon makes an appearance, sweet love making, name calling (cute shit, I promise), also the use of DADDY, lots of kissing and caressing, body worshiping, oral (f receiving), protected sex (no glove, no love baby), fingering, over-stimulation, namjoon is so inspired by hip hop culture, y’all I tried really hard to sprinkle some 90′s vibes in there so bare with me ok,

a/n: heyyyy loves! I wanted to do something different, considering that I hardly come across any fics (specifically BTS) with a woc or simply a black reader. so here’s one to all of my beautiful, black queens out there! much love to you all & I want you to know I am here & stand with you.  

song rec: “around the way girl” by ll cool j

☞ disclaimer: If any of the warnings listed above offends you in any way, please do not read. It is not my intention to start any sort of debate/argument in regards to racism, culture appropriation, etc. Therefore if any characters, settings, and/or facts/statements are incorrect, please disregard. However, this body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

It was like a movie, from start to finish. Growing up, times were hard and challenges never ceased to fade. But, you pushed through — the good, the bad, and the ugly. Lost ones along the way, realized you couldn’t trust everyone, but you grew. As an independent, young, black woman living in America. And then something happened, that changed everything.

The year of 1998, when fall semester classes at your college just ended, which called for finding a seasonal job for the time being. And that’s how you ended up working at Queen Beauty Supply about two blocks from your place. You grew up knowing Mr. Park (who is the owner and now your boss) all your life. As you were a child, your mother supported his business, always stocking up on flexi rods, Just for Me relaxers, Goody brushes, and all. Even the endless amounts of barrette balls of every color you could think of, she made sure you had. And seeing that you blossomed, Mr. Park was more than honored to hire you for a seasonal gig. You loved him as if he was your family, just as well as he loved you.

It all started that one evening when you worked the register, fancy-ing some Poetic Justice-style braids, showcasing your figure with a halter top and mom jeans. A small stereo behind you blared the latest hits on the radio, Jon B currently on play. You flipped through the latest issue of Word Up! Magazine, admiring the new spread that featured Mya, Monica, and Brandy — your two in. acrylic, nails dragging across the pages. The sound of the bell jingles over the door, indicating the arrival of a customer. Your gaze turns up to greet said customer, and your eyes meet with the fellow that entered.

And damn were you blown away for a hot sec. He was cute, really cute. You hadn’t even realized he asked you something, while standing in front of you on the opposite side of the counter. He’s Asian, obviously. His eyes having told it all. They were different, not shaped like yours, but beautiful. Which was intriguing. But him simple being here in a beauty supply store was interesting, Yes, it’s ironic. The owner himself being Asian, but the intended audience is your fellow black folks. You could tell he’s obviously inspired by your culture since he sported a bucket hat and a loose, white tee that may have been just two sizes too big for him — which is rare nowadays to find on an Asian man. But, you don’t question it. Of course, you’re well aware people of all races are influenced by hip hop culture so in a way, it doesn’t surprise you as much. Okay, maybe a little. But still.

“Can I help you?” His eyes did a weird thing, but it was cute. He was cute.

“Do you have du-rags here?” Your eyebrows raise and head cocks to the side, having abandoned the magazine you were just reading.

“What do you want with a du-rag?” You question, knowing well the texture of his hair can’t form into waves, so you suppose it’s for a fashion statement. He starts blushing, his eyes shut and beautiful pearly whites on display. Damn, did he have you hooked on the spot and you didn’t even know his name yet. You had to hurry up and get him out of here for your own sake, so you took the lead. A few beats passed before he realized you were leading the way to what he needed. He stumbled a little.

“It’s uh- For my performance,” He slips, trailing behind you while passing by the rows of hair-care products, leading towards the back of the store.

“Performance? You dance?” You question, while strutting down the row of where the brushes, combs, barrettes and the jewelry wall was displayed — purposely swaying your hips back and forth just a tad too much for dramatic effect. He definitely noticed, his eyes glued to your form and wondering how your jeans could mold those curves so perfectly.

He blushes at the thought but replies, “I’m a rapper,” And that’s when you stop in your tracks, flipping your braids behind your back and placing your hand on your hip, giving him the same expression that you gave at the counter.

“A rapper?” You ask, while taking him in from head to toe. You notice his white Air Force Ones.

Damn, he is so fine.

He has style, you’ll admit that. But an Asian rapper? That’s unheard of, at least in your neighborhood.

“Do you, boo.” You shrug, while gesturing toward the wall on your left, that displayed various colors of du-rags. You step away to return to the register and then he speaks again.

“What about Blue Magic?” As if he hadn’t surprised you enough, you cross your arms, facing him.

“Well…. it depends on what you want.” You pause, and roll on your heels to walk again, he follows behind you.

“We have coconut oil, but the hair food is out of stock right now. The hair and scalp treatment is limited quantity, but we do have Castor Oil and Super Sure Gro.” You arrive at the row of hair care products, with numerous brands of oils, treatments, and more that cover the shelves. After leaving him there, you admired the way his eyes were shot wide, and you knew damn well he was not 100% sure of what he was looking at — as he searched for the product that piqued his interest.

And so it became a regular occurrence. He’d come in at least once every two weeks, buying the same thing. A du-rag and Super Sure Gro. Some days you’d even be a little extra to “up” your appearance, in hopes he’d notice or in some fantasy world, he’d compliment you. Maybe even ask about you or your day. Or if you’d like to go watch a movie with him or even hit up a spot for some good food. You ponder if he’d be into trying soul food someday. Your mom always did say that a way into a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, more-so implying that you should know how to get down and dirty in the kitchen.

—

The bell jingles again, while you’re out on the floor stocking up the shelves with bottles of Luster’s Pink Oil Formula. Reaching below into the box to grab a few more bottles, you hadn’t noticed he was towering above you. You jumped slightly when you meet eyes with him, nearly dropping the contents you held onto.

“Don’t you know not to run up on a black woman like that? I may be little, but I can kick your ass!” You both break out into a contagious laugh. He stuffs his hands into his baggy jeans of his, that gorgeous smile spreads across his face. He clears his throat,

“I- Uh- I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

You shake it off, “You’re fine, boo.” Your hand finds its way into his shoulder, a light rub as you brush past him to head for the register. He hesitates, trailing behind you as he fights for the right words to say.

“I-I just, I-” You reach the front of the counter and turn to make eye contact with him. Your eyebrows raise slightly, taking in how he’s struggling to piece his words together. You place your hand on his shoulder again and note how he gazes at you with those same wide eyes you’d grown familiar with over the past few weeks. His lips parted slightly as if he was going to say something but didn’t.

“It’s okay-” You trail off, in hopes he’d catch on.

“Oh, right. N-namjoon. My name is Namjoon.”

You smile in response, lightly rubbing his arm with your palm.

“Is there…. Something you want to say? I promise, I don’t bite,” You state with a soft smile. You notice his shoulders easing themselves down. Part of you wonders what he was so tense for.

“You should come to my performance-” He says rapidly then pauses, looking down and then back up to you, “I would like it- I mean I think that you- You would like my performance.” He internally hates himself for being shy around you, his cheeks so tight and raised from smiling hard, and you could have literally melt in that moment. You thought it was cute to see him that way. To know you made him feel all flustered.

There was a grand amount of effort he’d built to approach you. The very, first day he arrived at the store, he wanted to say something then. He went home that night rehearsing how he’d spark up a conversation with you. He even recalls one time he’d seen you at a bus stop sucking on a lollipop, and how tempted he was to say something then. But he couldn’t. He was afraid of rejection, and he wasn’t sure how to approach you. So when he’d visit the beaut store and see your face, he’d grow warm on the inside. And when you would make eye contact with him, his heart would stop. When you would speak to him with that sweet voice of yours, he’d freeze.

So when you said yes you would be there, he cried afterwards. Not in front of you of course, but on the bus back to his place. He couldn’t believe that you didn’t reject him. Throughout the weeks, he’d contemplated because he didn’t know how you felt about people of his race. He didn’t know how your race felt about people like him in general. Although, it never mattered to him. Because he believed that love is love. As long as you’re happy with that person, that is all what truly matters. He believed everyone deserves to have that kind of love. Little did he know, you felt the same way.

And then things advanced between the two of you.

It was the night he invited you to an underground party, and it was live. Music thumped with never-ending bass, people danced and smoked, and the space felt warm and cluttered, courtesy of body heat. You gradually ease your way through the space, attempting to find some kind of “safe haven” amongst the grinding, moving bodies within the cramped atmosphere. The music settles down, which causes you to look ahead, realizing you’re in front of the stage where the DJ is posted up on the left.

“Alright, y’all! You already know what time it is.” The DJ blatantly announces through his microphone. The crowd somewhat reacts, but not to his liking you assume.

“I said… Y’all already know what time it is!” Everyone goes wild, screaming, chanting and whistling.

“Tonight, I wanna welcome y’all my boy. From the East side, he’s an up and coming rapper- Y’all check this,” He pauses for a moment, “He is a Korean rapper! Y’all feel me? What y’all know about a Korean rapper, aight?” He shakes his head throwing his hands up.

“Imma let y’all have this one, but I’m tellin’ y’all! You don’t know nothing bout this!” You smile uncontrollably, aware of who he’s talking about. Also somewhat anxious to see what the hype is about, your nerves making your stomach churn just a little too much while you’re out in public.

“Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ, swivels the record on his turntable back and forth. And there Namjoon was, appearing from the side of the stage, with his du-rag and bucket hat, loose tee, baggy jeans, and those familiar Air Force Ones you’d grown to recognize. You also peep the Cuban chain that adorns his neck.

And then the beat kicks in. Which was also familiar, you note that it’s the beat for “I Need Love.” Everyone starts bobbing their heads, including him. Including you.

He throws his hand up, shoving gestures to go along with the rhythm of the music, while using his other hand to firmly hold onto his mic.

“I’d like to introduce myself, The name is RM, Let’s rewind and take you back to when it first started, Very first time that I walked in the shop, I was startled and I swear I had felt my heart drop, You made me wanna get down on my knees, Begging, please, Coulda told you I was sprung the moment I seen ya,”

He makes eye contact with you and points directly in your direction. He’s talking about you, right? He’s got to be. There’s no way he isn’t. You continue bobbing your head to the beat, and you can’t fight the smile in return.

“Dang baby, how’d you fit in those jeans? Hips got a brother feeling like he’s in a dream, Couldn’t even keep my head straight, Yeah I’m Asian but damn, Somethin’ must have went left and messed up my fam, Sittin’, thinkin’, contemplatin’, and wonderin’, How could I get this fine lil shawty to blushin’? Hopin’ that you’ll say yes and lemme steal you from the scene, Treat you like a queen and show you what a real man can be,”

He stares at you for a moment too long, yet you’ve already grown too hot for the jean jacket you’re wearing over your tube top.

“I need love,” he adds before dropping the mic; everyone suddenly is hype, continuously cheering him on and giving him props for his performance.

“I told y’all! Give it up for my boy, RM!” The DJ adds, patting him on the back while smiling from ear to ear. But, his eyes are focused on you, and only you — who just can’t seem to shake off the bright smile plastered on your face, you attentively graze your bottom lip with your teeth to attempt stopping yourself from smiling so much. But, you fail. And he takes note of that, returning a smile to you. You could tell he’s blushing, his dimples appearing before he dips his head low.

So shy, yet so damn fine. How is that even possible?

—

That same week, he surprised you at work, stumbling in to rap a few verses about how beautiful you are to him, and he pulled a bouquet of roses he hid from behind his back. You remembered that day so clearly. You remembered kissing him, hugging him, holding his hand, smelling the flowers. You also remembered Mr. Park interrupting your little PDA session to scold you about: “No kissing and no sex on the clock!”

But, Namjoon loved you more than you could think. And he didn’t care who in the world thought it was wrong for you two to fall in love. Because the night you two had arrived at his apartment, lips intertwined with one another, and hands roaming each others bodies, was when everything became so clear.

You both stumble inside, too wrapped up in locking lips with one another. Namjoon guides you toward his bedroom; and being the klutz he is, he stubs his shoe on the baseboard leading to his bedroom. You both break the kiss, and you can’t help but chuckle at his clumsy ways.

“Why you laughing at me, huh?” He lifts you up and you can’t help the half gasp/half giggle that escapes your lips, immediately wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down on your back and hovers above you. You unexpectedly snatch his bucket hat off, tossing it somewhere on the floor — his faded, white-blonde and dark brown strands on display.

“Did you have to do my Kangol like that?” He whines with furrowed brows. You tap his bottom lip, dragging your finger across the plump flesh.

“Shut up and kiss me.” His gold Cuban link chain hangs from his neck, prompting your fingers to tug it down, and you do so, his lips smashing with yours yet again. Your fingers lace themselves within his hair, admiring the feel of his oiled scalp. His lips massage yours in a way that’s beyond comforting, and you make sure to inform him how nostalgic kissing feels. Drawn-out moans spew from you, and you can’t help but wonder how in the hell could you be in this time and moment with him. Piece by piece all of your garments end up lost on the ground, along with his clothing. He had you caged in to his bed and kept himself hovered over you, planting kisses along your neck trailing down to your collarbone.

“Mmm, Joon.” You follow his lead, kissing his blush-colored lips, snaking through his silky strands. His hands travel behind your back to remove your lace bra, revealing your breasts that illuminate from the moonlight peeking through the blinds of his window, your chocolate nipples hardened and desperate for attention. His eyes are blown wide, cherishing every dip and curve of your body.

“Wow,” He admits, his erection growing behind his undergarment. He holds a few moments to etch this view of you within his memory, appreciating every trait of your being in this form. His hands find placement on your hips, pulling you to his body completely — the soft, plushness of your breasts pushed against his chest. He rubs the outline of your face, slowly dragging his index finger along your jawline.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the world. You know that?” You let out a small giggle, feeling vulnerable in this state. He kisses you, being sure to suck your bottom lip, pulling and tugging softly with his teeth. His hands roam down your back and land on your ass cheeks, gripping with force. Your breath hitches, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, in hopes to ease him in just a little more. Even though physically it isn’t possible. He teases your bottom lip with a swipe of his tongue, asking for entrance.

And you let him in, sucking and licking him back in response, both of yours saliva mixing with each others, and not a care in the world — too consumed in each other. He gropes your ass, causing a moan to slip from you. His large palms kneading the cushion-y flesh, and damn is he grateful for this moment in time with you. He pulls from your lips with an audible smack, and you relish in the sight of his thick lips all swollen and damp.

“I love you, ____” He admits with those delightful irises.

“I love you too, Namjoon.” He guides you to lie down on your back, hovering above you as he places kisses along your jawline, leading down your neck, taking his time to cherish every part of you. His hands roam along your sides, caressing the curves of your body. He kisses the area between your breasts and stops suddenly, eyeing you for approval. As if understanding, you nod. His tongue peeks out and circles your right nipple, he wraps his lips around the bud and sucks with tenderness, making sure to release with a pop each time while his other hand massages your left breast.

Your core aches as a result, needing to feel him so the void inside your walls can be filled. He repeats this with your other tit, sucking your nipple while massaging the other, pinching and rolling the bud between his fingers. Your core throbs with an intense pleasure, soaking your now soiled panties. He eases down further, planting kisses down your tummy and moving along the inner thighs of your mocha skin, praising the smooth, supple, flesh. His fingers tug the band of your lace panties, and he eyes you again for approval.

“Please,” You plead, and it was all he needed to hear to remove the garment and reveal yourself to him, treasuring the sight of your lips dripping from arousal. He wastes no time, as you feel his warm, wet muscle gliding along your folds, his nose nuzzling your clit in the process. Your fingers snake into his hair and hips buck upwards to move along the rhythmic motions of his tongue, while he devours you whole as if he’d become a man starved.

“Joon!” You praise, panting for air, Your gaze follows between your legs, cherishing the man that continues to eat you out. He watches your expressions, glaring deeply into your eyes as he does so. His fingers ease toward your folds, rubbing his digits along your drenched pussy, coating them with your wet. He watches you still, not wanting to leave your gaze as he enters a finger inside you. You moan his name in response. His finger delves deep within you, your walls sucking him in perfectly.

“So good for me,” He lashes his tongue out to lick your clit in a circular motion. The sight of him between your thighs makes your heart quiver. He deliberately adds a second finger, his lengthy digits curling themselves upwards and dragging along the walls of your womanhood. His nails dig along the flesh of your thighs, keeping you settled and under his grip, his lips suck on your clit til no end. His obscene noises send a shockwave of pleasure through you, and your toes curl at the sensation. He pulls his fingers from out of you and tastes your arousal that clings to him.

“Tastes so good,” He moans, and you can’t help your thighs from rubbing together to ease the tension that has built. Then, he blushes at the view of you, all horny and ready for him. Only him. How can he be so cute and so fine at the same time? You ask yourself this everyday. Your legs move on their own accord, struggling to draw him back in. He chuckles at your actions.

“You want more, baby?” He questions in that deep, sexy voice of his.

You nod in reply, “Yes, Joon. Please, daddy?” His famous dimples reappear, and those mesmerizing, pearly whites appear. He dives back down, trailing kisses along your tummy, leading to your mound. He worships your body as he had wanted to do since the day he met you, gripping and rubbing along your skin. He moans against you, admiring the feel of you under his fingertips. His lips encase around your clit again, and your body jerks from the sudden feeling. His tongue slides along your folds, sucking and slurping, making the most lewd noises.

His fingernails drag along your thighs, adding an odd tingle within you. You follow his motions and graze your nails on top of his hand, when an unexpected bliss washes over you — causing you to writhe underneath him. He continues sucking your clitoris until you can’t take anymore, your legs gliding up an down along his back, back arching off the mattress, eyebrows furrowing and you simply drowning in euphoria with trembling thighs as your nails drag along his scalp and your cries echo within his eardrums.

“Joon, daddy!” Your nails dig further into his hand, and fingers tug harshly onto his strands. Your core now sensitive to the touch, something you’d never experienced before. He moves his head back and forth, delving deeper and not wanting to let go. You scratch his back, now in hopes he’d give up. You’re nearly convinced he’s going to kill you with that tongue of his, and then out of nowhere, he pushes two fingers inside you. Your toes curl for what feels like the millionth time, and you whimper his name repeatedly.

He thrusts his digits into you, a loud squelching noise filling up the space. And you feel those plush lips wrap around your clit again. He ruts against the bed, wanting to feed the tension within his groin. Your feet now having fought the sheets you lay upon, twisting and turning due to the over-sensitivity. But in some strange sentiment, there’s another wave. And here you are having your second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, Ungh- I’m cumming again!” Your body shakes violently, not having control over the orgasm that’s overtaken you. An uncontrollable scream slips out and you shove Namjoon away from you with a strained push, his chin now glistening with you. He wipes the residue from his face with the back of his hand, grinning at you fucked out and waiting on his bed. He pulls a condom from somewhere in his drawer and wraps himself up.

He was so thick, thicker than you thought. You lay flat on your tummy and Namjoon sets himself on top of you, caging you in again. He notes the glow upon your ebony skin as he coats his protected member with your drenched self, adding a line of his own saliva and finally diving into you with every inch he has, at a slow, steady pace. But the places he reaches leave you wondering what you’d done to deserve this kind of dick.

Magnificent.

“Beautiful, black queen,” he slips in between breaths, rocking his hips against yours. The position granting him a much deeper access. You gasp at his remark, clenching your walls tighter around him, he hisses in response. His warm breath fans the right side of your face, and he presses a kiss along your earlobe while adding,

“All mine. You’re my black queen, understand? Can’t nobody take that away from me.”

“Yes Namjoon,” You reply. “I’m all yours.”

His cock twitches at the sound of his name slipping from your lips within this state — having you underneath him like this, needy, desperate, and only craving him. He inches to meet your lips with his. His kisses are filled with want and desire, full of love. That sweet, sweet love.

“Give it to me daddy,” You say under your breath but audible enough for him to hear, and he takes heed to continue thrusting himself into you, his delicate, golden skin glimmering with perspiration. The sound of your bodies clapping against each other resonate throughout his apartment, as soft whimpers and moans fall from you, and he utilizes every millisecond of this moment to drown himself in your presence.

“So tight, so wet. So beautiful.” His hips buck in a gentle, yet stern manner, causing your body to jerk upward and eyes to shut close in response — his balls slapping your ass with each thrust of his hips, he continuously hits that sweet spot over and over again, your eyes rolling back due to the nostalgia. He eases his fingers in between your legs to rub circles into your clit simultaneously, and it doesn’t take long for your walls to contract for the third time that night.

“Fuck baby,” He coos with followed moans and groans, spilling himself while still buried in you. You shudder underneath him with nails dragging along the sheets, and muffled moans from burying your face, as you call out his name like it was the only function your brain could process.

He eases himself out of you, and you can’t help the low gasp that emits from you — having been so full of him and sensitive at the same time. A few moments later, and the slight shift of the bed indicates he vanished to discard the condom. You simply lay there, slowly processing that he’d given you the best sex you’ve ever had, being that his main focus was pleasuring you.

But it was in those final moments when Namjoon cuddled you afterwards, bodies attached together by sweat, gasping for air and basking himself in the warm, vanilla, sugar aroma of your essence — that he knew he was in love with you. And there was nothing anyone could ever say to change his feelings.

You break the silence having thought of Namjoon’s words you recall from his performance.

“Think you’ve found it?” He watches your form with raised eyebrows.

“Found what?” You trace circles along his chest, gazing upon his abdomen.

“Love,” You state, and a silence falls that makes your body warm up in a flash.

He shakes his head in a “no” gesture, “I don’t think I have.” The sudden pause of his sentence makes your heart drop.

“I know I have.” He kisses your forehead and draws you closer to him, holding onto you for dear life — like he’s afraid he’d lose you. You beam at his gesture, curling up into his figure. His heart thumps from the immense affection between the two of you. Your now closed eyes like an irreplaceable gift to him.

“My around the way girl,” He whispers to himself, while petting your hair and drifting off into slumber.

[samwrights]

Saint

Um. I’m sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️ lmao no tf I’m not. Thank you anon for this request! It’s been a really long time since I’ve wrote actual smut so let’s give a whirl, shall we?

Warnings: NSFW. Dirty talk, choking, rough sex (though only a brief mention of actual penetration), degradation, and I think that’s it? NSFW under the cut.

The two of you were such a strange dynamic to begin with. Despite his large, athletic build, Kuroo Tetsurō was a brilliant man that often donned a lab coat; using his brains to support chemical innovation in the world. He was sarcastic and playful, yet dorky and very sincere despite the loving a good battle of wit. Truly, he was the total package.

You, on the other hand, barely reached his chest with your short stature. Loud, bossy, but a visionary with unwavering courage that stood out astronomical miles in your field of being an editor for an alternative magazine. Miranda Priestly has nothing on you in terms of work ethic.

Despite the fact that the two of you have been dating since your first year at university together, it still blew everyone away that the two of you had even lasted, let alone for the last six years.

“There’s no way the sex is that good,” Bokuto had balked. The former Fukurodani ace, along with his former setter and now partner, and Kuroo himself got together one Saturday a month for a boy’s night. Some days, Tsukishima Kei would join in, along with Hinata. Today, it was just the old Tokyo trio. “Dude, she’s crazy!”

“I’m not saying anything,” says Kuroo, holding up his hands in nonchalance before knocking back the rest of the beer in his bottle. “But yes, it is that good.” It wasn’t Kuroo’s only reason for being with you, no. You were a hard worker that always gave more than one-hundred percent at everything you did, including your guys’ relationship. In that was your unmatchable ability to resolve any conflict. It seemed like such a stupid reason to stay with someone, Bokuto and Akaashi had even told him so at one point, but he knew that the Fukurodani couple had never felt the strength, growth, and peace that it did for your relationship. 

Imagine being with somebody who listened to you and actively sought to work through problems together rather than starting a fight because you forgot it was your turn to do the dishes. Kuroo had never been in such a fulfilling relationship and, to be honest, he didn’t want to attempt to find another one—he was in it for the long haul and he wouldn’t stop until you told him it was over.

“She’s a top.” Akaashi blanches, noticing the way Kuroo’s eyes almost distance as he silently reflects on his relationship. “He’s got the same look in his eye when I wonder why I’m dating you,” the former setter deadpans, staring at his silver haired partner.

“You are so mean, Akaashi!”

“Are you implying Bokuto’s—you know what, never mind,” Kuroo stops in his tracks, reaching for another bottle from the bucket. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“Babe, I’m home!” Kuroo calls out the minute he steps through the threshold of your guys’ shared apartment. He can hear the stovetop kettle whistling as you make yourself your usual evening tea to unwind after an impromptu day at the office. “Hey,” he greets again as he steps into the kitchen. You’re only wearing a mid-length fluffy robe, from what he can tell.

“Hey, baby. How was boy’s night?”

“The usual,” Kuroo sidles closer, wrapping one arm around your waist before pressing a kiss into your hair, “still thinking I’m crazy for dealing with you.” A laugh escapes you as you pour your tea.

“I mean, you kind of are,” you concede, “you’re an absolute saint for putting up with me.” An unimpressed hum leaves his lips as he adjusts himself so that he has both hands on your waist. His hazel eyes are burning into yours as he glowers—he doesn’t like it you talk about yourself like this; like you were a burden; like you were too much to handle. “Oh, you know it’s true. I’m a lot to deal with.” You roll your eyes before gently pushing him out of your way so that you can curl up in front of your little fireplace.

“[name], you know that it’s not true.”

“What, that you’re a saint—“

“Baby, I am the furthest thing from that.” You’re thankful that Kuroo at least gave you a moment to set the mug down before he’s on top of you in the most feral way. With lips latched onto the base of your neck, Kuroo’s expert hands fiddle with the knot that’s holding your robe together. “Stop saying you’re too much,” the former Nekoma captain murmurs along your collarbone as he ventures down. “If anything, you aren’t enough.”

“Tetsu...” You simper as he nips at the flesh.

“I can never have enough of you.” When did his fingers undo your robe? You had no idea, nor did it matter the moment. Calloused fingers danced along your bare stomach, tracing patterns unknown to you before traveling town the tops of your thighs.

“Tetsu, touch me.” The words leave your lips in a breathless whine. A chuckle rumbles in his chest, his breath fanning over you as he looks up at you, all the while his tongue darts out to tease your bare nipples.

“You know, Akaashi thinks you’re a top,” he muses as he travels from one breast to another, as if he were talking about the weather rather than your sexual preferences. “Should I tell them next time you love being fucked like a whore?” The word leaves Kuroo’s lips as he jams two fingers inside of you. It should be unpleasant, it would be unpleasant, if just looking at your boyfriend didn’t turn you on instantly. “Aw, cute. You’re already wet.”

“Skip the foreplay, Tetsu—“

“And now you think you’re calling the shots?” Kuroo takes his freehand that’s been essentially absent until now, and presses it into your throat. The heel of his hand is digging into the base of your neck while his fingers give tentative squeezes around the sides of your windpipe. He’s checking to make sure he has your consent to continue. You only moan in response. “Who’s in charge here, princess?” It’s difficult to respond with a hand wrapped around your neck; even more so when your boyfriend has two fingers ramming themselves into you just the way you love it.

“You are, Tetsu.” You manage to rasp out, your hands traveling underneath his shirt. You needed to touch him. Feeling the delicate pads of your manicured fingers even just grazing the muscle under his abdomen earns a groan from the man above you. He pulls his fingers out from you, earning a moan in disappointment from your struggling mouth as you long for the feeling of being filled. Instead, he rolls your sensitive clit between his middle and index fingers, doing anything and everything to rile you up.

“You never answered my question.” Kuroo deadpans, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You can smell the stale wheat ale on his breath as his nose delicately rests on yours, all the while his hand is still nearly strangling you. At some point, spots in your vision were beginning to cut out from the lack of oxygen—Kuroo could even tell. It was a look he never grew tired of seeing. “Answer the question.” He bites out, slamming his lips on yours. The succession of movements comes rapidly as he finally lets go of your throat, pulling away to allow you to breathe while simultaneously rubbing at your clit vigorously to coax your first orgasm of the night. “Want me to tell the boys you love getting fucked like a whore?” He asks again. For a moment, you teeter back and forth between saying yes and no. If you said no, he was going to keep playing with you in the way you craved after a rough day at work. But if you said yes, he was either going to choke you with his hand or his cock.

Either option is favorable at this point.

Tetsurō’s fingers are moving with a knowledge that only he knew—bringing you closer and closer to orgasm as he inserts them once again, curling them instinctively to push on your sweet spot. “Fuck!” You scream, the word sending shivers up Kuroo’s spine. But for your sake, he’s doing his best to ignore how much he wants to rip his own clothes off and pound into you and break the couch. Again.

“C’mon baby, tell me.” It was meant to come out as a demand, you knew so, but the most Kuroo could muster out right now was broken pleas thanks to his throbbing erection. He needed to be inside you, and he needed it now.

“Go ahead,” you all but cry out and for a moment the man is unsure if you’re giving him permission to fuck you or tell his friends the real dirty details of your sex life. “Tell them the truth, tell them I’m your little slut.” Kuroo lets out a groan before tearing his fingers away from you once again and immediately unbuckling his jeans, revealing his painfully hard cock and filling you without a bout of resistance. Both of you let a breath out, as if neither of you realized you were holding one.

“I love you,” he reminds you, breaking character for just a moment. Or rather, in apology because you know he’s going to break the goddamn couch again. Experimentally, Kuroo cautiously pulls out, his cock bottoming out inside of you as he does so, before just leaving the tip inside of you. His hand is dancing along your throat again, as the two of you hold eye contact. “Still think I’m a saint?”

[egopocalypse]

A List of Marvin Headcanons

And the general timeline of his character in my non-series related lore, because I had to go the extra mile.

General:

He’s pan-ace and sex-positive.

Uses he/they pronouns and calls people out if they try to make him pick one.

Has dabbled in a wide range of magics, ranging from elemental to illusions to mind magics to necromancy.

They’re the type of bastard to use their voice to get what they want and practically purrs when manipulating someone.

(People simp for his voice and he takes full advantage of it.)

(Chase and Jackie may or may not be two of those people.)

Morally grey.

Charming as fuck and knows how to gain people’s favor.

Will have you wrapped around their finger and get all the information they want from you before you realize how much you’ve spilled.

He has several friends who are sex-workers and will smack down anyone who tries to harass them.

Friendly with most people (especially if you have something he wants) but has a very small group of actual friends.

However, he generally keeps people at an arm’s length, even when they’re his friends, and is a very private person.

Has had a few long-term partners, but most of the time prefers casual relationships that only last a few months, and isn’t looking to settle down any time soon.

Whether or not this is due to his fear of intimacy and inability to be vulnerable so he doesn’t seem weak is up to you to decide. (Spoiler: it is.)

He still struggles with being his own person outside of an ego at times, but mostly feels secure in his identity and the personality he’s painstakingly crafted for himself.

(And I’m throwing the lore below the cut, because it took up a page and a half in google docs and this is long enough already.)

Lore:

Started off with a lack of identity after springing into existence after his power hour. 

Went through an identity crisis and proceeded to make himself as Not Like Jack as possible, to the point of choosing a different name than what he was originally given to distance himself from his creator.

Jackie tried to help him as best he could, and after a few weeks, things seemed to start getting better.

Then Henrik showed up with an accent, a personality, and a name.

This pissed Marvin the fuck off.

They did everything they could to sabotage Henrik and make him miserable as petty revenge against Jack (and also because they just did not get along with him).

Jackie started to distance himself from them and bonded more with Henrik, which pissed them off even more and they fought with him.

They ended up leaving the house to let off some steam one night, which is when Anti targeted them.

Anti recognized his potential and promised to give him the attention and power he’d been craving.

Marvin said yes and started working with Anti.

They created the tether that tied Anti to Jack and strengthened the connection between Anti and Jack, which allowed Anti to overpower Jack on Halloween and kill him.

But Anti blamed Marvin for Henrik’s interference and saving Jack’s life, so they had to prove themself to him to gain his mercy.

This is when Marvin officially gained Anti’s strings.

Marvin returned to the ego’s residence and started spying on them, collecting information for Anti.

Jackie was ecstatic to see he was back and embraced him, spending more time with him like before Henrik arrived.

Marvin soaked in the attention and things stayed relatively calm for several months.

Chase’s arrival ended that.

Once again, Jack had created a new ego, and this time with a very detailed backstory. Even more so than Henrik’s.

And the worst part is, Marvin couldn’t hate him.

They wanted to, but Chase ended up latching onto their heart somehow and wouldn’t let go, no matter how many attempts they made to push him away.

They ended up becoming the one that Chase turned to with his secrets the most, especially regarding his fears and doubts.

Anti noticed Marvin turning away from him and started threatening Chase’s life and freedom to get Marvin to obey again.

Marvin agreed and started arranging for Kill Jacksepticeye to happen, slipping things into Jack’s food/drinks, using voodoo and black magics to worsen his health, and working on a ritual to bind Jack inside his mind so Anti can control it without problems.

When the day arrives, Henrik comes across Marvin performing the ritual and causes him to fuck it up, so Jack dies.

To get him out of the picture, they offer Henrik up to Anti as a temporary replacement.

Marvin then proceeds to use necromancy once they’re gone to bring Jack back, but he’s left in a coma as a result of the damage his body took from the failed ritual.

Chase and Jackie’s worry over Hen’s disappearance causes him to be ashamed of his actions, and he fakes his own abduction.

They live with Anti for the next few months, and when Jameson is snatched by Anti, it’s Marvin’s job to guard him and Henrik.

Like Chase, Jameson worms his way into Marvin’s heart, and he sees him as the apprentice he never had.

It’s through Jameson’s careful work that Marvin and Henrik’s relationship gets mended, though it takes a lot of effort from the three of them.

May 2019 comes around and Anti finally causes Marvin to snap.

They use their magic to try to bust themself, Henrik, and Jameson out.

Henrik is the only one to make it.

Jameson got caught by Anti and Marvin surrendered to keep him from hurting him and as a distraction to keep Anti’s attention off of Henrik’s escape.

It takes them until the new year to get out from there, and Anti took every available opportunity before that to subdue them and beat them into submission (see: Jameson Jackson’s Jolly Jaunts).

The last year or so has been dedicated to healing and dealing with the trauma, as well as coming up with a plan to stand against Anti and take him down once and for all.

That is where we stand now, and we’ll see what tomorrow’s video has to do with the lore. 

(Dear god, please let some of this be correct. Please.)

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #368

“whatever doesn’t kill you, is gonna leave a scar”

Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? My favorite shirt is the Day of the Dead design by Cloak, which is Markiplier's and jacksepticeye's clothing brand. Mom's friend/former co-worker also got me a Ninja Sex Party shirt because she knew I liked them. There are SO MANY YouTubers I wanna support by buying shirts. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? Milk, 110%. Have you ever left a note in a library book? No. What time of day do you prefer to wash your hair? Morning. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yes. Have you ever taken a photograph with a celebrity? If so, did it turn out the way you wanted, or do you wish you could retake it? No. If you could move out of your home country permanently, would you? If so, where would you go? If it didn't mean being so very far from my family, I would love to move to Canada. Is there a celebrity that everyone else seems to love, but you find totally overrated? Why is it that you don’t like them? I legit don't know who's considered currently popular, and I especially don't know who they are as people. If you could volunteer for any charity, which one would you choose? Do you think it’s more important to help humans, or are animal and environmental charities equally important? Something relating to animals, and I think they're both equally important. Do you prefer holidays where you relax, or actually do things? I like a mix. Something chill, but you still do some stuff as a family. Do you think that after we die our spirit is still alive? Yes. Has anybody ever told you that you could be a model? Someone has mistaken me for a model in a picture I once took. It was one of the most flattering things I've ever heard, haha. Do you use different kinds of moisturizer for different body parts? ie. hand lotion for your hands, face cream for your face. Or do you just use one moisturizer for all body parts? Yes. Have you ever felt like you were someone’s rebound? No. Has anybody ever broken up with you over something really pathetic? What was it? Have you ever been dumped in a disrespectful way? (eg. through text, through a friend..) I have 100% been dumped in a very cowardly and disrespectful way; after dating Jason for nearly four years and being very serious, he broke up with me very abruptly over Facebook Messenger. His reason was valid, but at the same time, he NEVER talked to me about it. Apparently my depression was dragging him down. If he'd fucking communicated it, I would have explored new treatment options so goddamn fast. But no, he decided to snap his fingers and disappear. That's exactly WHY it was so traumatic, I think: it was so unexpected and sudden. Did you have a lot of role models as a kid? Animal enthusiasts like Steve Irwin and Jeff Corwin for sure. Do you feel like anyone looks up to you? Why or why not? God no. I'm just... not someone to aspire to be like. What was the last thing you found offensive? I'm not sure. Who is the nicest person you know? My mom. Do you feel safe in your country? I feel safe in NC, rather. Like I don't expect an atom bomb or terrorist attack or something in this obscure area. In the U.S.A. itself, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. America is definitely not loved by every other country. Do you feel safe where you live? Not in this city, no. Have you been falsely diagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Yup. Did y'all know I apparently have ADHD? I know, shocking. Have you ever had a doctor refuse to treat you? No. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): The first Silent Hill, probably. It took a lot of reading to get it. Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightning before? No. Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Does Stitch count? Or a Pokemon. Do you like marshmallows? Yes. What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I really like the Jolly Rancher candy canes, I think they are? Have you ever fostered an animal? No. Do you still take hot showers when it’s hot out? Not as hot, but not cold except on very extreme occasions. When writing $ sign, do you draw one line through the S or two? Two. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? I'm thankful that my parents were pretty open-minded to what pets I really wanted, but one I was never allowed to have was a ferret because of how messy and smelly they are. List three people you’ve had crushes on: Jason, Sara, and Sebastian were probably my biggest crushes. Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No, but god have I felt close. List three people you had a hard time forgiving. Jason, Colleen, and my dad. Who is the most spiritual person you know? Probably my sister's mother-in-law. Would you ever start a vlog? God no, I'd bore people to tears. Are your dreams coming true yet? I mean, I guess in some ways with my mental health. In my deepest depression, what I have now was a dream, even though current me is very discontent with it. Most of my dreams, though? No. Do you struggle with depression? I've been diagnosed with severe depression since 7th grade. Are you haunted by your past? A few things won't leave me alone. What medical conditions do you have? Just a lot. There are even more that are up for debate. I've talked about my diagnosed conditions enough. Do you use a Magic Bullet? No. What does your apron look like? I don’t have one. What are your favorite spicy foods? Hot Cheetos, Takis, hot wings, jalapeno pizza... Man, I love spicy food. Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? Being a kid. Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? I had very mixed feelings. Did you feel insecure in high school? Shit, I still do. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? What the FUCK is this question? No fucking shit I would be. Someone being suicidal in no way affects who they are as a person. Who was the biggest bully in high school? I don't think there really was one. What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? If I wanted kids, a daughter. Have you ever written to an advice columnist? No. Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? Maybe? I did however have an employee at the ER the first time I went try to pry out of me that my self-mutilation was for attention, and it wasn't until I insisted about a dozen times that it wasn't that he believed me. It's odd looking back that I got REALLY attached to him during that stay, knowing now that it was absolutely horrible and extremely unhelpful for him to do that. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? I would absolutely refuse to have a male one. Do you like Lisa Frank? Yeah, like can you talk about aesthetic. What gives you nightmares? Boy, I wish I could tell you, given how much I have them. Were you ever hospitalized as a child? No. Did you get senior pictures taken? No. What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one. Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? No, thank fuck. Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? I'd rather wear black. I think red will be the bridesmaids' color. Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? I want a swimming pool so damn badly so I could exercise my legs without worrying about sweating, and I can stop and rest whenever I want, unlike going walking or something. I don't think my knees could handle a trampoline. Do you think babies are cute? Some, sure. But a lot, not really. Do you dream about the future a lot? Yeah. Do you think about your past a lot? Way too frequently. How good are you at living in the moment? I'm trying to get better at it. Have you ever questioned God’s existence? Yeah. Vanilla frosting or chocolate? Chocolate. What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? I've actually been exploring Italian pasta lately. I'm not a big fan of foreign food that I've tried, though. Have you ever moved to another state? No. Did you do anything productive today? No. .-. Can you say the alphabet backwards? No, actually. Do you like flowers? Of course; does anyone not? Have you ever thought you were gonna die? I didn't care if I did or didn't. What kind of mood are you in today? I was honestly really depressed through most of it. Just health stuff was really getting to me. I just woke up from what was honestly like a four-hour nap and I feel all right, I guess. What are you craving right now? I REALLY want Domino's jalapeno pizza. Is there anyone you would seriously punch right now if you had the chance? No. What is worse, physical or emotional pain? Definitely emotional. Have you ever walked in on somebody doing something… questionable? When Dad still lived with us, I think he might have been watching... you know... on TV when I came into my parents' room for something. Idk for sure though. I didn't ask, and I don't want to know. If you were to make videos on YouTube, what would they be of? Oh god, idk. I don't want to make any. What I'd have most fun with would be reptile education, but I 1.) have literally one snake, 2.) am not extremely educated on a good number of them and don't want to be misleading, and 3.) I would run outta content fast. So, leave it to Snake Discovery, haha. Posting pictures of yourself in a bathing suit on the internet - ok or not? Yes, it's okay????? If you're talking about me personally though, you won't see me dead in a bathing suit picture. Do you typically laugh when somebody falls down? No, I gasp and see if they're okay. What is the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? Paranormal Entity. The ending is... a lot. Your opinion of Katy Perry, please? I like a couple of her songs. If you could say anything to your Mom right now… what would it be? "Thank you for absolutely everything."

[chibimyumi]

I too have a question on your opinion on something that I am pretty sure you've never covered, but, I know you have covered a LOT of grell things, and it IS a Grell thing. It's more like a theory I have seen that some people have, that the "butler disguise" and persona were sort of giving us a glimpse of what Grell was like before she became a reaper. BUt I am unsure myself. It has always felt like just a disguise and nothing more! What do you think??

Dear Anon,

Thanks for checking whether the answer to your question is already available before asking! (^▽^) I appreciate that a lot.

As to your question... I am not sure. As I have said often before, we don’t actually know all that much about Grell, let alone her inner psyche. Unlike Sebas and especially O!Ciel who are heavily built on their inner psyche and how they need to regulate their actions (i.e. we have a clear view of what they are hiding and why they choose to express what), Grell is a character built and centered on sheer expression. In addition to Grell not having all that much “screentime”, it really is impossible to conclude what she used to be/is like outside of her few appearances in the manga so far.

However, there is value in discussing what may or may not have been, so let us do just that ^^

Can Grell’s butler disguise offer a glimpse of her former self?

Disclaimer: I am not transgender myself, so I cannot speak from personal experience; only from secondhand experience from my transgender friends/acquaintances who told me their stories in confidence, or from interviews.

Before we can begin a meaningful discussion, we first need to consider the function of Grell’s disguise; the demure and hopeless butler.

‘The Watchdog x the Black Butler’ have earned themselves quite some notoriety fame in society because of their astonishing capabilities. Grell however, would have to achieve the opposite; inconspicuousness. With a male-coded body she had better choose a male disguise because 1. a female persona would reversely attract attention, and 2. female servants did not enjoy the same “privileges” male servants did, which would have made her service to Madam very inconvenient.

In short, we can conclude that a male disguise was not much of a choice, but an inevitability in the “stage and setting” the-great-actress had to play. So now the question remains: “why this specific demure and hopeless role, and does this role reflect her former self in any way?”

Now let us discuss both the “yes” and the “no”.

【tw suicide and transphobia mention】

“No.” - Why relive a trauma?

As I said before, we don’t know much about Grell, so we also don’t know how much her past affects her current self. One thing we are relatively certain of however, is that Grell probably killed herself because she couldn’t bear to live as a man anymore.

If we accept this as the reason Grell killed herself, then it is important to ask: “IF the demure and hopeless persona was the way she used to be, and IF it is unbearable for Grell to relive the life she had to end, why then would she choose this role?” There are many other ways to be an inconspicuous male butler other than the specific persona Grell went with. Butler Sutcliff could just have been mediocre and silent, for example.

We don’t know whether Grell has had enough time to move past her trauma, but considering how she still begrudges sex workers who want a hysterectomy enough to so violently kill them, it is fairly reasonable to say her trauma is still with her. If her past “self” was so unbearable that she killed it, I would say it makes no sense whatsoever she would choose to revisit that trauma since other options are clearly available.

Opposite or just different?

In a society as obsessed with masculinity as the early Victorian one, Grell must have experienced a real struggle by being ““blessed with a male status”” and yet unable to live up to a ‘proper’ male life. Who was supposed to tell Grell that ‘transgender’ is a thing and that it’s okay? Most likely Grell may not even really have believed herself when her subconscious told her she was a woman; the concept of ‘sex ≠ gender’ was unheard of!

All transgender people cope differently of course, but I learned that some transgender women initially overcompensate with hyper masculinity to convince themselves and/or others they actually are men. It is not inconceivable that Grell did exactly that to conform and avoid being exposed to danger.

In this case, it is likely that this persona is either very different or even the polar opposite from what she used to present herself as. Perhaps during her partnership with Madam Red, the choice for such a demure role was to help her temporarily live as a man without having to re-experience the traumatic life she had ended before.

“Yes” - Method acting

Grell is a self-proclaimed great actress, but no matter how gifted an actor, the possibility of slipping up will always exist. Grell is not performing in a 3-hour musical with a passive audience that’s simply there to see her shine; no, she is being undercover for a high-risk mission that tolerates zero mistakes.

Adopting a familiar persona can ensure maximum ‘naturalness’ and smoothness; it is a “role” that she had rehearsed for many years already, after all. She would already know why she used to act in a certain way, how she would have responded in surprise situations. This could spare her the effort of having to improvise a “logical” behaviour should her cover be tested, and could save her from being caught for character-inconsistencies.

To allow for this method acting however, Grell would need to trust herself mentally stable enough as not to be affected by unpleasant memories. Perhaps Grell has had enough time and opportunity to move past her trauma, who knows? In this case the violent serial murders stem from just perverse vindictiveness rather than being a reaction to trauma. Or it is even possible that Grell’s vindictiveness and hate were simply stronger than her trauma. We really can’t tell.

Conclusion

In conclusion, we don’t know enough about Grell to be able to tell whether the demure butler persona reflects her former self. There are equally valid reasons for both theories.

Under the assumption that the trauma is still present in Grell, it is most likely that the demure and hopeless butler is a far departure from past-Grell. This means that this persona only tells us what Grell was NOT like, but we are still left with no clue as to how Grell presented herself before she killed herself.

Alternatively, if we find it more likely that Grell would opt for the strategy of method acting, and therefore having ‘the familiar’ to fall back on, it would be possible that the butler persona does give a glimpse of her former self. This however, would demand the precondition that Grell has another coping strategy for her past trauma; a trauma we know was so unbearable it drove her to suicide.

I hope this helps!! What do you think? ^ω^ What would you have done if you were in her shoes?

MASTERPOST Furukawa Era Kuromyu

MASTERPOST Gender in Kuroshitsuji

MASTERPOST My Art

MASTERPOST Analyses & Info

Man!Greller Debunking Series

[semper-legens]

36. The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, by Gerard Way, Shaun Simon, and Becky Cloonan

Owned: Yes   Page count: Unknown, not numbered My summary: The fabulous Killjoys are dead. Oh, some remember them - they have become legends in the wastelands after dying while saving a child from Better Living Industries. Now that girl is all grown up, and supposed to be a saviour. But what power does she have to save the world? My rating: 4/5     My commentary:

Danger Days is my favourite MCR album. I don’t even know what it is about it, I just love the whole ‘rebellion against a future dystopia’ situation and running around in the desert dressed in the brightest colours possible with a laser gun like yes, I am sold, tell me more you beautiful garish emo boys. This is a comic that is a sequel to that album! And overall I liked its Vibes, though the story itself was not that great in my estimations. I had a good time!

The story is split between the girl trying to navigate the wastelands dealing with the loss of all her friends and her mysterious destiny to save the world, one of the men who is chasing her down on behalf of the evil corporation, and two robot sex workers trying to escape. It’s a compelling story, and hits all of my favourite tropes - dystopias, evil oppressive regimes, potentially doomed rebellions, desperate struggles. I eat all that shit up, to be honest!

A lot of the new characters - by which I mean, not the girl - come across as kind of one-note, though honestly I’m not really sure what more could be done there. I didn’t click with them or like them, and I didn’t really think they were that interesting - one guy who hates the Killjoys and wants to surpass their legend, two who are just super into violence, they were fine, I guess. I did fall in love with the two robots; the tragedy of their story, their desperation to save each other and survive outside the city, something they have been told isn’t possible, is very compelling and I love them.

One thing I do have to say about this narrative is that it comes across as a bit disjointed - the focus flits from place to place without a lot of cohesion and very little about the world and its characters are explained. I could have done with a little more exposition to ground me in what’s happening in this world, its lore, its background, that sort of thing. On the whole implying things about the wider world rather than spending pages and pages explaining is a good thing, but I think this comic swung too far to the mysterious for my tastes.

That’s all here folks - next up, more Witcher!

[wyvernquill]

WyvernQuill's GOOD OMENS Works - Masterpost

Hello everybody, hope you're doing well in these turbulent times! I figured now would be as good a time as any to compile all my GO fics here, so anyone affected by quarantine/social distancing measures can treat themselves to a bit of Ineffable Goodness if they're so inclined. (All of these are Aziraphale/Crowley, with the occasional side pairing thrown in, and all of them have/will have a happy ending, no matter what!)

So, without further ado:

Good Endings (56k, completed, T): humorous post-canon slow burn with ensemble cast matchmakers, angst, and Pratchettisms abound; book canon, mostly written pre-show, with plenty of illustrations!

Flies and Furniture (<1k, completed, G): Ineffable Bureaucracy gets lost in an IKEA. That's it, that's the fic. More than a bit cracky, obviously.

Marriage and Misery (10k, completed, M): Regency-era marriage of convenience, lots of pining and misunderstandings; human AU, but pointed avoidance of period-typical homophobia - Aziraphale has many struggles to overcome, but being gay ain't one of 'em!

Team Ineffable - A Pokémon GOmens Story (3k, completed, G): humorous meet-cute fluff with a bit of a crack twist, in which Crowley and his one (1) braincell try to pass him off as a Pokémon Go expert to impress Aziraphale; human AU, no real knowledge of Pokémon Go required.

By Any Other Name (12k, completed, T): soulmate names AU with a bit of a twist, full of pining and misunderstandings. Crowley's name reads "Aziraphale", but Aziraphale's doesn't read "Crowley"...; follows canon through the 6000 years of slow burn, part of a Soulmate AU pact with Lurlur and Pearl09 - do read their fantastic fics here and here, too!

All's Fair In Love And Serial Killing (10k, completed, M, graphic violence): serial killer/cop AU that is far cuter and sillier than that premise suggests - apparently I can't write anything without a twist to it; human AU, mind the warnings, minor character death but only bad guys, unreliable-narrator!Crowley.

Yes and Please and Thank You (19k, ongoing, T): lots of angst, Crowley has been under an obedience curse since before meeting Aziraphale and it causes Problems(tm); first two chapters follow canon, everything after is post-canon, some Adam&The Them feels thrown in for flavour.

AN ANTICHRISTMAS CAROL (7k, ongoing, T): retelling of A Christmas Carol but with more of a romance plot; human/Victorian AU, written in the style of Dickensian prose.

Born To Take Care Of You (18k, completed, M): reverse!Omens mutual pining and mistaken identity, featuring Azirafell, Baron of Eternal Torments, and the Archangel Raphael pretending to be merely a demon called Crowley; reverse AU, obviously, follows the 6000 years of slow burn.

Tied Up With String (comic, completed, G): silly little fluff comic for the Christmas season, featuring atrocious self-knitted sweaters.

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (102k, completed, M): my GOBB fic! Crowley in opposite-world, humour, second apocalypse, lots of angst and pining with a happy ending. Ensemble cast, but, y'know, OPPOSITE ensemble. Main selling points include: Death doting over an adorable kitten, the Not-Them, Notziraphale actually selling his books, and secret library parties!; one-year-post-show canon. Also has beautiful art, and a fantastic mini-sequel by @rosiepaw!

Here's some more fics that I can only take partial credit for, so to speak:

COLLAB WORKS WITH VARIOUS OTHER AUTHORS:

Correction Fluid (16k, completed, E): very very smutty, and very very kinky. Doing your taxes (yes, really) has never been so hot - I was mostly involved in the form of 50+ humorous footnotes, all the wonderful sex is the work of... entirely too many fantastic fellow authors who just went feral in a Google doc.

Correction Fluid [ART] (art, completed, M): see above - sexy collab art for sexy collab fic, coloured by the awesome robynthemagpie!

Līgfāmblāwende (5k, completed, G): St. George and the Dragon, except it's Crowley and he's really just playing along with it for laughs. Light-hearted and fun!

Of Good Books & Black Omens (11k, completed, T): crossover with Black Books - Aziraphale and Bertram strike up a friendship over hating the customers of their respective bookshops, and Crowley feels replaced; Manny, meanwhile, is just along for the ride. Knowledge of Black Books enriches the experience, but possible to read just for Aziraphale and Crowley, as well.

My Fair Angel (14k, completed, G): writing all done by the amazing @handlebarstiedtothestars, I only did the illustrations. Retelling of My Fair Lady, in which Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to pass off the Them as little heirs and an heiress; includes lots of delicious, delicious pining and genderqueer!Crowley in Audrey Hepburn's beautiful dresses.

Miami Ice (3k, ongoing, T): a present for @aughtpunk, built around their prompt of Aziraphale and Crowley being responsible for the Under Pressure sample in Ice Ice Baby - now with extra Florida, alligators, NASA, and space!

And, I only drew for these, but can personally vouch for their fantasticness, so what the Hell, they get included in this list, too!

GOBB FICS I DID ART FOR:

Panem Et Circenses (89k, completed, T), by @thelittleblackfox: Aziraphale and Crowley take part in the Great British Bake-Off. Need I say more? Absolutely brilliantly written and downright delicious, and you'll LOVE Mel and Sue!!! Not a human AU, but canon divergence - slown burn, and lots and lots of mutual pining.

Butterflies In A Bell Jar (31k, completed, T), by @still-not-king:two office workers meet, hit it off, and fall in love, almost as if they've always known each other... but why is the office's non-fraternisation policy so unforgivingly strict, and what's the deal with their odd bosses? An absolutely wonderful office human!AU... or IS IT!?!? ;)

All The World's A Stage (16k, completed, G), by @ifeelbetterer: theatre students Adam and Warlock are matchmaking between their professors Crowley and Aziraphale, and maybe, possibly, perhaps, growing fond of each other in turn... adorable, full of pining, and some big misunderstandings all around!

Tadfield Heat (15k, completed, M), by @vodkertonic: do you like Hot Fuzz? Then you'll love this one! Crowley and Belle (Beelzebub) are detectives in a tiny little village, and their respective crushes, bookshop owner Aziraphale and the strange new American in town may or may not actually be spies... Ineffable Bureaucracy and Ineffable Husbands, an absolute delight!

Roman Holiday (30k, completed, G), by @percyjacksonfan3: beautiful, touching retelling of the movie, featuring genderfluid!Crowley (and a less bittersweet ending than the original, rest assured!)

All of these five are absolutely fantastic fics I am honoured to have had the privilege of drawing for, and I promise you're going to enjoy every single one!!!

That's all of them for now, though rest assured I have more planned - I'll update this list if any of the ongoing fics get completed, or if I start a new one. Please enjoy, and stay safe everyone!

^-^ <3

(And here's some dancing book!Husbands for you, just because!)

[mrsreinhart]

The Women of “Hustlers” on Making “A Female ‘Goodfellas’”

Constance Wu, Keke Palmer and Lili Reinhart discuss playing exotic dancers and getting rid of the “chick flick” label

Lorene Scafaria’s Hustlers fictionalizes the true story of a group of exotic dancers who lured wealthy Wall Street men into unknowingly spending hundreds of thousands of dollars at their strip club. The film, based on journalist Jessica Pressler’s 2015 investigative New York magazine piece, “The Hustlers at Scores,” stars Constance Wu as Destiny, a new dancer struggling to pay rent for the apartment where she cares for her grandmother—until she meets Ramona, played by Jennifer Lopez. Ramona is a single mom and the most successful dancer at the club—but this changes with the market crash of 2008. When the recession hits, Ramona enlists fellow down-and-out dancers Destiny, Mercedes (Keke Palmer) and Annabelle (Lili Reinhart) to help her swindle men into spending big on a night out, with the men forgetting most of the previous night’s transactions come morning because their drinks were laced with ketamine and MDMA. The film’s cast is rounded out by Cardi B, Lizzo and Julia Stiles, who plays a reporter modeled after Pressler.

While some opening weekend attendees might be in it for the salaciousness that a “stripper movie” promises (it certainly does deliver on that front), the heart of Hustlers isn’t so different from any other gang film. The women at the center of the film are bound together by the need for something greater than what they had to begin with, and the wish to make their dreams for themselves and their families a reality by any means necessary. WSJ. spoke with Wu, Palmer and Reinhart at the Four Seasons in Beverly Hills to talk about working on their own version of Goodfellas, and what men really want from movies.

Hollywood depictions of sex workers don’t generally give women much agency. Was it important to you that Hustlers empowered them?

Keke Palmer: I liked that it was balanced because it either goes one of two ways. Either it’s like super, super sad, sad, sad or overly glamorized. When I read this, I felt like it was a balance of both. You had those moments where you thought it might be glamorous and you had those moments like, “Damn, this sh*t is tough.” And so whenever I’m looking at a character or a movie—no matter what the job, no matter who these people are—I want to see balance. This movie gave me that.

Constance Wu: Usually we see one archetype of a woman who is a sex worker or a stripper. And yes, we have racial diversity, but we had diversity in so many other ways—the way you look, the backgrounds of these women and also the different ways that they decided to pursue this job, to make their ends meet.

Lili Reinhart: We all came from such different backgrounds and we all ended up in the same job. So it’s not just this archetype —“Oh, trashy girl from a broken home ends up being a stripper.” That’s such a stereotype. That’s not the case. Women are supporting their children, or supporting themselves or their families, or their families kicked them out. I think strippers will hopefully enjoy our film.

CW: I hope so. Because we tried to humanize them as people. Other movies don’t—they try to portray them as objects or people to move the plot along for the story. We treated all of our characters like humans who have a similar job. That’s only one part of you, your job.

How did the all-female ensemble cast change the vibe on set?

CW: I think it was really freeing. Because it’s different if there’s only one spot for a woman. And then you think, “Oh no—what if I get kicked off?” But when it’s all women, I didn’t have to try to be sexy for guys. I didn’t have to try to pretend like, “Oh I’m one of the guys, I’m cool.” I just got to be myself. And [Jennifer Lopez] set the tone for that pretty well, too, because she’s just so cool.

LR: I’m so happy that this is a movie about women told by a woman, because nothing disturbs me more than a woman’s story told by a man, because it’s through the filter of a man. And so the fact that this was a women’s story told, written and seen through the lens of a woman was powerful.

KP: One of the first things that [Constance] said was, “It’s like a female Goodfellas,” and I’m like “damn right!” Lorene was really serious with the DP on getting those specific shots, those specific angles that you only see men have. It was just like, “Man, girl, thank you for those details. Not only does the script have heart and soul, but visually you’re going for this, you’re giving us a cinematic look. You’re making these women look cool!” That was all specific to show us in powerful positions.

LR: Not even sexy, but powerful. It’s not a slow-motion strut starting from the heels going up, showing the body. It’s the women themselves.

KP: It’s how they would usually do the Wall Street guys. It’s power.

CW: Like sometimes people say “Oh, it’s a woman’s film,” they’ll think that it’s less-than. But I think Lorene did a really good job of choosing a crew who treated the film with the respect of something they were really passionate about, not as like—

KP: “Girl movie.”

CW: Yeah, I mean there’s that term that people like to say: “Chick flick.” And I’m like, “Oh, does that mean every other movie in the world is a d*ck flick?” But that’s just a word used—chick flick—to demean a movie that is about women, and then d*ck flicks are just “flicks.”

LR: Just movies in general.

How is a story where you’re playing out, essentially, a love story with another woman different from one with a man?

KP: It hurt my feelings more when all that stuff went down with Constance’s character and Jennifer’s character.

LR: It’s more devastating.

KP: Way more devastating. I feel like people aren’t going to be pleasantly surprised to see the depth and dynamic of these characters and [that] this story is not just something eye-catching for you like, “Stripping! Fun!” It’s like, “Oh wow, these characters, I care about them. I care about this story.”

CW: It almost hurts more than a romantic thing because it almost feels more pure of a love, because there’s not the transaction of sex. The feeling of being forgiven—it’s a good feeling because it’s accepting that we all mess up, and that we’re still people who are worthy of love. And Jen—I couldn’t have done any of this without [her]. That was really just a two-way street; just the fact that she was so open and caring.

Was there anything challenging for you to do in the film?

KP: I think every girl secretly in their mind is ready to get on stage and see if they’ve got what it takes. I think most people would expect [dancing] to be the most challenging. But I think even the shyest person, if they had the opportunity to play a role like this or be in a situation like this—it’s like “Hell, if I’m going to do it somewhere, I might as well do it in a huge film.” I think those parts were exciting. It could be seen as challenging, but what I was excited about was to sit in this sexy place that I’ve never really sat in before. I don’t really think of myself as a sexy type of chick. And so it was cool to play with what that would look like for the camera.

LR: I feel like deep inside, every woman feels the need to get on a pole at least once. I think you grow up and you’re like “Oh, that’s what sexy is.” And you just want to try it. And truly, [to Constance] I’m sure you took probably more pole dancing lessons than I did, but it was just fun. And you’re like, “Damn, I look good!”

CW: I was just thinking when you said like every woman wants to get on the pole—at first I was like, “No, I don’t think so.” But then I was like thinking about it, and why that might be true. And if you think about it, these women are owning their sexuality, which is something we are shamed for, starting at puberty, we’re supposed to make ourselves—you either have to be the Madonna or the whore, and you can’t win either way. You’re not sexy enough; you’re too sexy. And I think when you’re on a stage and you’re dancing and you’re just owning your sexiness in the way that you want to do it, I think that is a thing that inside probably every woman—person—wants to do.

Do you think anyone who goes to see the film solely for the “stripper movie!” factor will be disappointed?

KP: Look, Jennifer gave you the show that you’re looking for right in the beginning. She gives you what we never thought we’d see. She gave us the most spectacular performance that I have ever seen a stripper do. I’ve gone to a lot of strip clubs.

CW: Me too. And I’m going to say something real cheesy right now, but I do believe it’s true: People might say they’re looking for t*ts, but I think they’re looking for heart. And they’re just saying tits because it’s a less vulnerable thing to need, to say. It’s cooler and more macho to objectify women. But at the end of the day, all humans want—

LR: They relate to stories about love.

CW: —is connection.

KP: Without a doubt. Every guy that I’ve watched The Notebook with has loved it.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hello! I'm pretty sure I saw you mention a while ago that you were disappointed by confessions of the fox, would you mind explaining why? I've seen mostly good things about it myself. If I misremembered then I'm sorry and I hope you have a good day :))

I think this is one of my less popular opinions. And I understand - we so rarely get historical fiction with trans folk as the titular character (indeed, we rarely get any fiction what that). So I get people’s desire to laud it. 

For me though? It fundamentally didn’t work as a book. As a story.  

Let me count the ways. (Apologies in advance for the length of this.)

First: If you’re trans-ing someone who was historically cis instead of seeking to find a real, historical trans or gender-nonconforming person, I have questions. 

Most of the questions can be summed up as: Why? 

I struggle with historical fiction that takes a cis person and re-imagines them as trans as if there aren’t already literal historical, real trans people out there whose stories can be told. It smacks as (unintended, well meaning) erasure of lived experiences. 

Jack Sheppard, to the best of our knowledge, was a cis dude. There were trans folk in London in the 1710s and ‘20s. You might have to dig a bit for them, but they’re there. Because trans folk have always been there. 

Second: Characterisation 

This is more personal taste, but I found Jack and his girlfriend Bess to be inexcusably boring. How a trans, thief and gaolbreaker in 1720s gin-soaked London can be written as boring is anyone’s guess. But he was. 

Jack had no real personality and I found his story to be uninteresting. Oh, he’s the world’s best thief and gaolbreaker, that’s nice. But on its own it isn’t enough.

He had few to no faults. Childhood trauma isn’t a personality. Nor is being trans. And the author relies heavily on gender + occupation (thief-ness) to equal personality. So it falls very flat.  

Bess, his girlfriend, is a mixed-race sex worker from the Fens (even though actual real-Bess was from Edgeware). She seems to only exist to demonstrate that Jack is good at sex. She also veers a little into the Mystical Woman of Colour Healer Who Aids The White Person on their Journey of Self Discovery trope. 

Neither Bess nor Jack undergo any real change in the book. They exist in a weird stasis and experience no development, despite living through some harrowing things. They’re wooden dolls who move through the story without really engaging with, or being influenced by, the things around them. 

The other “main” character is a modern Academic who “found” this supposed “manuscript” of Jack’s life and is annotating it. His story unfolds in the foot notes and it’s just so messy if not a bit contrived. It didn’t make sense. I think the author was trying to convey that the Academic was in a sort of dystopian future, but if that’s the case it didn’t work. And if that’s not the case, the entire inclusion of the Academic’s story served only to annoy and take me out of the reading experience. 

E.g. There’s a scene where the Academic is being taken to task by the Dean for playing stupid games on his phone during office hours and like honey, lapsed-historian/academic here, trust me the Dean doesn’t give a fuck what you do during your office hours so long as you’re in your office and students can come bother you about their poor marks. 

The manuscript is supposedly being sought after by this pharmaceutical company for nefarious reasons that never struck me as being entirely realistic/believable. Also, the university was spying on this non-tenured, slightly useless Academic as if he somehow mattered? Which made zero sense. Anyway, it was stupid and should have been ripped out of the final version. OR changed substantially. 

Jonathan Wild, the thief taker (main antagonist to Jack), is probably the only interesting person. 

Third: Lack of Follow Through, or, the Fabulism Was Not Used Well 

The book tries to blend in some fabulism to the world by giving Jack the ability to “hear” the thoughts of inanimate objects. This could have been fun and gone to some interesting places, but it failed to deliver. 

I personally found the shoe-horning in of “capitalism commodifies everything” to be sloppy and heavy handed. It was done with little grace and didn’t sit right given that we are dealing with the early modern period. Yes, you can use the past to critique our modern woes, but do it intelligently. Don’t slap modern points of view and understandings of things onto the past and expect them to make sense. 

Anyway, Jack spends the book hearing inanimate objects talk to him, asking him to “free” them, or something. And uh .. .it doesn’t go anywhere interesting after that. 

Also the correlation one can draw from these objects to, you know, slaves, is uncomfortable. Especially as it’s the cargo of the EIC ships that Jack hears. I don’t think it’s intended in any sort of malicious way, but the allusion is there and I always found it to be distinctly uncomfortable. 

Fourth: Misuse of Marxist Theory, or, More Heavy Handed Moralizing that Annoyed the Dear Reader because it wasn’t subtle and, more importantly, it wasn’t done intelligently. 

So, the author is an academic - studies 18th century lit. Which is readily apparent as his Academic (self-insert) character is, I believe, supposed to be a historian and uh ... you can tell that the author doesn’t know enough to wing that. E.g. How he interprets some of the laws and customs of the time. Instead of understanding the social, economic and, most importantly, environmental issues that gave birth to laws like “the corporation of the city of London owns the streets so you can’t muckrake” he chooses to understand them through a very 21st century lens (and a Marxist one at that. I know I’m perhaps a bit uncool for this, but I find the application of Marxist theory to the early modern period to be ... not useful). 

Do you know why, mid/late 17th century London passed these municipal laws? Because of the god damn fucking plague you numb nut. You absolute buffoon. It had nothing to do with “oh the City/government is evil and wants to own you” it had to do with the fact that no one cleaned the goddamn street. So the city took over doing it. 

Prior to this, in London, you were supposed to keep the street in front of your building clear of waste, debris, refuse etc. No one did this, of course. I live where it’s cold and snows a lot and people can barely shovel the 2 sq ft of sidewalk in front of their driveway in the winter. I dread the idea of an average homeowner being expected to keep the street clear and clean. 

Anyway, guess what dirty streets attract? Vermin. Guess what comes with vermin? Plague. Guess what happened in 1665/66? The great plague of London! 

17th century England might not have understood germ theory, but they did understand correlation. (Also, the population of London was doubling at the back half of the 17th century and streets needed to be reliably cleared for through-traffic reasons etc. etc.) 

ugh, sorry, that one in particular drove me up the wall. Not everything is a capitalist conspiracy. Especially when we’re talking about municipal by-laws from the 17th century. 

And I understand the temptation to read a lot of modern interpretation of words like “corporation” and “company” onto bodies that used these same words in 17th and 18th centuries. But the weight, meaning and connotation of “the worshipful company of merchant adventurers” is different from, I don’t know, “the tech company google” or whatever. The early 18th century is when we start seeing the birth of the stock market, of “venture companies” (i.e. merchant adventure companies), of a lot of the language and proto-iterations of what will grow to be economic institutions of our time. But it doesn’t mean they’re the same and that difference is important. Because Jack Sheppard is a man living in 1720 he’s not going to be having our modern 21st century critiques of capitalism because his engagement with the economic systems of his time would have been radically different to our own experiences. 

Fifth:  Unbelievable Top Surgery & Recovery 

So, Jack gets top surgery. In 1720s fever-ridden London. While quarantining in a brothel. 

And he lived! No infection! No tearing! He was up and about in a matter of days. I don’t remember if his nipples survived the operation or not but somehow Jack did. Without anesthetics! Or you know, any concept of hygiene. 

His Mystical Girlfriend Who Exists to Show How Good Jack is at Sex is also somehow Magically Very Literate and also Magically a Surgeon? and performs this surgery on Jack in the middle of a plague. 

The entire ordeal was so poorly handled in terms of believability that I literally set the book down and said “what the fucking fuck” to the empty room then drank wine before finishing the chapter. 

An aside, it is funny thinking about the quarantine chapters at this point. I read COTF when it first came out a few years ago. Sweet summer children, we none of us had any idea how to write quarantine scenes. 

That reminds me: the entire quarantine thing was presented as the government trying to control movement and take away people’s rights etc. instead of a very normal, typical response that cities had been enacting since 1350. Samuel Pepys, who lived through the 1665/66 epidemic, barely even notes the restrictions. He’s like just “hmmm I’d love to go to the pub but I also don’t want to die. so. *shrug*” 

At the time of the author’s writing, most of us in the western world had no idea how normal and day-to-day disease was for our ancestors and yes, sometimes there would be crackdowns to try and curb it if an epidemic hit. That was part and parcel of life. So again, Jack and Bess wouldn’t be like ��ooooh we’re 21st century slightly libertarian lefitsts who think the government is doing this to control us and for nefarious purposes”. Much more likely, they would have been like Pepys and viewed it as nuisance, albeit a necessary one. 

Sixth: Overall Lack of Realism 

I think I’ve noted the big moments where I was like “no one in the early 18th century would think that I’m pretty certain”. This isn’t to say people didn’t grouse, complain about London government (and the king etc.), critique or question the world they lived in. They absolutely did! Regularly. With great verve and gusto, if the broadsheets are anything to go by. But their critiques, their complaints, suggestions for bettering life, are not the same as ours. Because how could they be? They lived in a different world, were responding to specific things, grew up hearing and believing certain things etc. 

Jack, aside from having minimal to no character, really did read like a modern slightly-libertarian leftist who was plunked into a novel that takes place three hundred years ago. 

In addition to unrealistic political views, his understanding of body, gender, sexuality and identity also read as incredibly modern. Now this is harder, because we have so few extant sources from that time on those who lived non-gender conforming lives, and from their point of view, so yes creative imagining and interpretation is the rule of the day for writing that. 

But, we do know how in general the average person engaged and understood gender and sexuality and that would, naturally, inform anyone whose experience was different. And that base line of “probably what a typical cis Englishman or woman felt about their body and identity” wasn’t present. At all. 

Indeed, gender engagement at that time was interesting. The concept of the body, the role of the physical body, how it was interpreted is absolutely fascinating and the author could have done some really cool things with that. But he didn’t. He went for slapping a modern interpretation onto the past. 

At this point, write a dystopian novel and make Jack a fictional character. That probably would have gone over better, for me at least. The conceit can remain the same: It’s the year 4056 and an Academic found a manuscript from the year 3045 when the Dystopia Was a Thing - and go from there. 

--- 

I think part of what made this very popular and why people seem so taken with it is that it reads smart. It reads like someone who has immersed themselves in that world etc. because of the slang and language used. 

Yet, for me, as someone who has studied this period extensively, especially queerness in London in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, it read flat and unrealistic. 

I was initially very enthused when I started it. There are some posts to that effect on my blog. But it very quickly went south. It tries very hard to be Radical and Smart and Subversive and Critiquing Everything and so I think it fails at the fundamental thing it should be doing: telling a good story. 

(Note: The book does try and address racism in London at this time. It also felt a bit forced. And Jack seemed to have no prejudices or preconceived notions about Indian and Black folk which isn’t realistic. Like, it might make him #Problematic but my dude, you’re writing a man born in 1702. He’s going to have some iffy views. That can be challenged! Absolutely. But they still would have existed.) 

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Thank you for the ask! I again apologize for the length of the reply. 

[letterboxd]

Common Language.

With her third feature, Lingua Franca, now on Netflix, Filipina filmmaker Isabel Sandoval talks to Valerie Complex about undocumented immigrant workers, sensual cinematography, taking narrative risks and Steven Soderbergh’s sexiest film.

“I’m not the type of filmmaker that is into crowd-pleasing and I think that resonates with audiences.” —Isabel Sandoval

Isabel Sandoval’s films have an auteur, European appeal; they take their time. Inspired by cinematic film legends including Chantal Akerman, Wong Kar-wai and James Gray, Sandoval is pushing forward in an industry reluctant to change, creating narratives that speak to her existence, and her experience.

After making two feature films set in her native Philippines (Apparition, Señorita), Sandoval relocates to her adopted hometown, New York City—or at least a small seaside corner of it—for her third film. Lingua Franca follows Olivia (played by Sandoval), an undocumented Filipina trans woman who is looking to secure a green card so she can continue to stay and work in the US. Olivia knows the only way to legal status in present-day America is through marriage, but struggles to find the right person to accept her offer.

Green-card marriages also cost money. Olivia takes a job as a live-in caregiver for Olga (Lynn Cohen), an elderly Russian woman living in Brooklyn’s Brighton Beach neighborhood. She soon finds a love interest in her client’s grandson Alex (Australian actor Eamon Farren), and her future seems solidified. Or is it? As anxiety about deportation mounts, Olivia strives to maintain autonomy in a world that continually rejects her.

The slow, meditative nature of Lingua Franca has already found fans on Letterboxd. “Trans narratives are so often couched in dramatic twists and turns, but here we get something so much more gentle,” writes Connor. Sandoval’s turn as a woman searching for her truth while existing at the intersections of marginalization is also hitting home. “This is the hardest I've been struck by a performance since Jeon Do-yeon's masterful display in Lee Chang-dong's Secret Sunshine back in 2007,” writes Joshua. “I really cannot believe this is Isabel's first performance and I certainly believe that it won't be her last.”

Sandoval instinctively injects concepts of immigration, loneliness, and displacement throughout Lingua Franca in a way that doesn’t overwhelm, but does force deep empathy. “Artfully plays with a lot of themes at once,” agrees Letterboxd member Oluwatayo.

Merriam-Webster’s definition of ‘lingua franca’—“something resembling a common language”—can be interpreted in various ways. For Sandoval, she aims to create her own common language of passion, pain and new beginnings. With migrant workers sharing a common language of homesickness in every corner of the world, I had to ask why she chose New York to be the setting for this emotional drama.

Isabel Sandoval (as Olivia) and Eamon Farren (as Alex) on Brighton Beach, New York.

Letterboxd: What is it about New York that made the setting work for you and Lingua Franca? Is it the diversity of the environment or…? Isabel Sandoval: You know, growing up in the Philippines, New York was seen as romantic. I wanted to put my stamp and unique views of life in New York City. I wanted to do two things with Lingua Franca: I wanted to do my own New York movie from the perspective and the gaze of a foreigner and an immigrant, and I wanted to make a different kind of film that was quiet and patient. I wrote the script around the time when Trump got elected president, which painted a perfect storm for the premise, story and view of the film. I was also influenced by the James Gray film Two Lovers, which was filmed in Brighton Beach.

That’s not an easy thing to accomplish in a New York movie, yet you manage to do that with such patience and quiet and subtlety. I was shocked. But, you know, New York is not all crazy. There are places that are quiet. Exactly! Especially in Brooklyn. I wanted to capture the different worlds that exist block to block in the film.

Your movie deals with a lot of themes: family, immigration and romance… I’m always drawn to stories with a socio-political point of view about women who are marginalized and forced to make intensely personal decisions. French filmmaker Jean Cocteau once said: “Filmmakers make the same movie over and over”. As you progress and make more films, and you’re being involved as a storyteller, you’re beginning to polish; your style becomes more evident and sophisticated. That’s just the story I felt attached to because it was one I was passionate about and it was the right time to create it.

How do you feel about being embraced by the film community, both domestically and abroad? Tribeca, Locarno, SXSW and Venice are among the festivals that have premiered your films. It’s vindicating to me. My first feature film shot and produced in the US screened internationally, but, with Lingua Franca, it’s come full circle. I think critics now embrace and know that I have a voice and a sensibility that’s worth exploring more. They want to involve a filmmaker with different views, especially in an industry where you need to conform to certain formulas and certain group things in terms of how we approach certain issues or certain things or certain ideas. It truly makes me feel independent.

Art-house film and cinema has long been associated, or at least for the last fifteen years, with really gritty, social-realist drama. I’ve received reviews of my film that criticize it for not being romantic enough. My film captures emotions that are not easy, obvious and straightforward. I’m not the type of filmmaker that is into crowd-pleasing and I think that resonates with audiences.

You are the director, the star, the editor, and the producer of Lingua Franca. How did you stay organized enough to manage all of those tasks? I have one job and that is to make a film and tell a story. I had a clear vision of what I wanted to accomplish, and honestly, it’s me being a stubborn auteur.

The camera work is really sensual and intimate. What conversations took place between you and cinematographer, Isaac Banks, and what, if any other films, were the inspiration for that look? He and I discussed patience and sensuality often, so that’s why Wong Kar-wai had quite an influence on my work with In the Mood for Love and also Christian Petzold, the German director, who directed Transit and Phoenix.

Lingua Franca places a particular lens on the fragility of Filipino, migrant culture. In the film, Olivia exists at the intersections of race, gender, sexuality, ICE and Covid-19—and you lay that all on the table here. What do you hope the audience will see in Olivia’s story at this time? She’s a trans woman, she is a woman of color, she is an immigrant, but she’s also more than the sum of these individual parts. I know my film demands a lot of intellectual and emotional labor, but it’s important that viewers think deeply and critically about Olivia’s motivations, which may seem contradictory and complex. I want Lingua Franca to be an emotional experience, even if it’s not the most comfortable to watch. If I get one audience member to do the emotional legwork of trying to understand where the main character is coming from, I will feel complete as a filmmaker.

What do you think is the must-see Filipino film, classic or new? [Peque Gallaga’s] Oro, Plata, Mata, which came out in 1982. It is a multi-generational tale set in central Philippines. It’s just a sprawling, dramatic epic, and it’s one of the films that made me want to be a filmmaker. It’s not the most technically polished film, but it takes risks narratively. At the end of the day, it’s not about how big the production is. It’s your willingness to be expansive and explorative as a filmmaker that counts.

What do you consider the sexiest film you’ve ever seen? Out of Sight by Steven Soderbergh.

Out of Sight?! I did not see that coming. Yes! That film doesn’t have any sex scene, but it’s the level of seduction for me. I think sensuality is not necessarily a physical encounter between bodies, but the patience and longing of the moment.

What is your all-time favorite comfort film? A League of Their Own by Penny Marshall. That was the first movie that I saw where I bawled in the last ten minutes of the film.

If I were doing a triple feature with Lingua Franca, what two films would you recommend to watch before or after? I would recommend Ali: Fear Eats the Soul by Rainer Werner Fassbinder, which is another interracial love story between a German woman and a Moroccan immigrant. The other one would be Two Lovers by James Gray, which is set by the beach.

Isabel Sandoval (as Olivia) and Lynn Cohen (as Olga) in ‘Lingua Franca’.

[Spoiler warning: The final two questions concern aspects of the film’s ending.]

I thought the ending of your film was powerful, because we’re right back at the beginning of Olivia’s journey. Sometimes things don’t work out and you have to pick up the pieces and move forward. Exactly! I also wanted to make a point that even though we are focusing on Olivia, I pulled the camera back to highlight bigger sociological themes. She is one of many immigrants in the script and their fates are not resolved by the end of this movie. I wanted that to be a subtle reminder this type of thing becomes cyclical. Life goes on, it’s just another day. Olivia is a displaced immigrant woman in America where Trump is president. Whereas Olga, who’s Ukranian-Jewish, left her home country fifty or sixty years ago in the aftermath of the Holocaust. I wanted people to see this connection.

Based on the meaning of ‘lingua franca’, was that your original choice or for the title? The definition really fits the story. The film is an invitation to the audience to really pay closer attention to language—the language of things said and unsaid. That probably was also a big point of decision for me to open and close the film with words in Tagalog, which is my native language. A lot of people have asked “why didn’t Olivia accept the marriage proposal?” at the end of the film. Sure, that would’ve been practical, but I invite the audience to look at the language between Alex and Olivia. I challenge them to look beyond Olivia as just an immigrant without papers or as a trans woman looking for love, but this is a woman who is taking her agency back and her ability to determine her life moving forward.

Related content

Leonora Anne Mint’s list of Films by Transgender Writers and Directors.

The Top 100 Filipino Films on Letterboxd.

Jojo Kuneho’s lists of Tagalog movies.

Philippines: The Ultimate List.

Follow Valerie on Letterboxd.

‘Lingua Franca’ is distributed by ARRAY Releasing and is available on Netflix.

[skyhopedango]

Arte - 2020 spring anime season taste testing

So, let’s start with this one. I had read some of the manga for this but it was quite a while ago so all I remembered was that I hadn’t found it particularly engaging and ended up kind of not continuing. But hey, maybe I’ll have better luck with the anime, I thought.

Weeellllllll. 

See, this is not a bad show. It’s what I tend to call unoffensive - it has its heart in the right place, the characters are fine, the story is okay, it’s just kind of a very typical Anime/Manga Type Story with very typical Anime/Manga Type Characters. So no, nothing wrong with the show, I think I’ll keep watching for a while. Thing is, though. I kind of remember now why I hadn’t found the manga engaging, and there are so many reasons, and they’re even more apparent in the anime. 

To get this out of the way first, I just don’t really care about the main character and her dynamics with her master. Again, technically nothing wrong with her or the relationship (except the fact that it’s so obviously gearing up for a romance between the two, an aspect I find terribly boring and trite), but since it’s the main character and the main relationship, it does kind of put a damper on my enjoyment of the story. 

More than that, though, I find the whole “OMG SHE’S GETTING DISCRIMINATED AGAINST BECAUSE SHE’S A GIRL BUT SHE’S TOUGH AND SHE’S GONNA SHOW HER WORTH TO ALL THE BAD DUDES” aspect kind of annoying, not because it’s a bad message, but because of how it’s being handled without consideration of the historical context. It’s so obvious that the author is approaching the issue from a very modern and narrow POV. A lot of Arte’s struggles come down to class and the way she had been raised, instead of her gender, and it’s so annoying to see the show ignore that for a very simplistic and in some ways misguided explanation.

For one - back then, just as today, it was absolutely not uncommon for women to do physical work. Maybe not moving stones and building houses, but women did do a lot of physically taxing things, even stuff that - gasp, shock, horror - left their hands wounded, chapped, etc. Hell, unless you were wealthy (or a sex worker, I guess) you weren’t expected to have baby smooth skin and a sedentary lifestyle. Now, sure, rich women didn’t do physical work, but that’s because they could afford having other people doing it for them, not because they were women. Back then, just as today, the lower you go on the social ladder the more physical work you see women doing. Basically, the author just kind of forgot that hey, working class women existed, which, y’know, really grinds my gears.

Two - people being all “omg a woman can’t make a living on her own!” when in actuality this, too, wasn’t particularly uncommon. Sure, not in case of young women, who were expected to get married and have children, but there were a whole lot of women who lost their husbands or didn’t marry for whatever reason, and had to fend for themselves. And you know, they did just that. Obviously it was a lot more preferrable for a woman to be married, both for social and financial reasons, but it’s not like a woman making it on her own was something extraordinary. (And on that note, oh my god I rolled my eyes so hard at Angelo being all “why don’t you try working yourself!” to his sisters and the show treating it like the moral of the story. Like - ffs does the writer think household chores are not work and they can’t be exhausting? no need to answer, yes, they most likely do.)

Three - this is the Renaissance, in these times marriage didn’t necessarily mean “life in a gilded cage” for a wealthy woman. In fact, during Reinaissance times a lot of higher class women were able to pursue studies and yes, even art. There were a number of known female artists, many of them amateurs, but some of them had painting as their trade that they made a living from. I’m kind of willing to overlook this to a degree because Arte is obviously modeled on Sofonisba Anguissola who was one of the first women artists to have an exceptionally successful career and make a name for herself, but women pursuing an interest in art wasn’t in and of itself something unheard of. 

And even aside of wealthy women, there were opportunities for women to study and practice art, and even make money from it. I’ll just leave this article here for anyone who’s interested: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2017/dec/22/new-renaissance-how-florence-is-freeing-its-great-female-artists-plautilla-nelli

So yeah. I’m sure many people would call these nitpicks, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree. I suppose if someone just wants a simple and cute story about “Female Empowerment HURRAH!” Arte is absolutely fine. As a story on its own it’s serviceable, and it does have its heart in the right place. I’m going to keep watching. But also, I’m someone who finds it a lot more interesting to examine issues in their own context so I get annoyed when an author deliberately sets a story within a certain frame, and then kind of blithely ignores some of the aspects of that frame - even though including them would make the story and the characters a LOT more relevant and interesting, at least as far as I’m concerned.