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adickaboutspoons · 1 month ago

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Mostly I was responding to the points raised in @scarrletmoon's response, but you raise some excellent points to which I'd like to respond. Feel free to ignore if you're tired of my bullshit. I completely understand the impulse. 1st, you're absolutely right; I was coming across as gate-keepery by saying that I find Stede's eccentricities charming as though that ought be the default experience. For that I apologize. I ought to have taken more care. When I said "And that's valid, but I would say that those are the parts that the crew and Ed grow to love once they embrace those parts of him instead of cringing at them" what I meant to convey is that the experience of 2nd-hand embarrassment when Stede does something that recalls to the viewer times when they have felt ashamed/were made to feel shame because of something they did is absolutely understandable, but we can take heart in Stede being accepted & loved for those parts of him, & find hope that so too may we be embraced for our own quirks & foibles. My intention was to encourage others to be more gentle with & accepting of their own perceived failings, but I can see now that I failed to adequately express that, & for that I am sorry. I do take issue with the suggestion that I am strawmanning, though; I would argue that how one views Stede's motivation & framing absolutely informs the extent to which/moments in which one finds his behavior cringe-worthy. In your original post, you contend Stede is "pretending to be this macho pirate captain who totally knows what he's doing" & your response above adds he's a bad manager & a jerk because he's praising himself & chiding his employees, whom you interpret as him treating as stand-ins for his own children. If that's how you're framing the scenario, then, sure - I can see how his behavior comes across as cringe to you. But that's not at all how I perceived it. I will grant he is pretending more expertise than he actually possesses, but he IS a pirate captain, & as to the attribution of "macho" I absolutely disagree, specifically because he is textually interested in a form of piracy that is not that. Because that is my understanding of the scene, in the debrief scene I see a person excited at the success of what, if Black Pete is to be believed, is their very 1st raid, & doesn't understand why everyone else wasn't also chuffed. He then listens to Wee John' criticism & encourages him to clarify WHY he feels the way he does. When Wee John identifies the lack of a flag as a contributing factor to his disgruntlement, Stede provides materials so they can rectify the deficit. This isn't Stede forcing arts & crafts on these grown-ass men (& Jim) - it's Stede hearing a problem & supplying the means to a solution. Similarly, he hears out Buttons about the crew's dissatisfaction, & tries to rectify it by finding a more appealing target for a raid, even though he obviously feels unequal to the task himself. To me, that's the complete opposite of a bad manager (to me he's a bad manager when he's being dismissive of the crew's input, like the fuckery brainstorming, & even then he climbs down from his high horse & apologizes. Which? GREAT manager!). Where you see Stede infantilizing his crew, I see them taking part in activities that, while generally relegated to childhood, aren't implicitly childish, & of their own volition, & Stede sowing the seeds that will eventually blossom into a found family (not imposing an established family structure). For clarity, I'm not saying my interpretation is objectively right, nor that yours is wrong. I'm just saying framing is going to influence perception of whether Stede's behavior is Cringe, & that's kind of what I was getting at with my myriad examples of Stede behaving "authentically" or "inauthentically" & when that is a viable predictor of a general fandom perception of when Stede is being Cringe. Because I really don't think it is. This is going to continue in the notes because tumlr thinks they can cut my mic.

listen I love stede a lot - I think he's the bravest character in the show. he changes everyone he meets for the better. he embodies what I think of as the thesis of the show. if he wasn't the way that he is, the show would not be very good, imo.

but in ep one he gives his pirate crew notes on the raid they just did as though they were a community theater troupe and his notes were 1) complimenting his own opening speech as "very inspiring" and 2) complaining that that the crew wasn't sufficiently enthusiastic about robbing two poor fisherman of a single plant.

during the raid his narration went "some men are born to be pirate captains, others learn on the job. me? well I'm a pretty solid mix of both" as though he has any idea what he's doing.

and AFTER the raid Olu has to gently point out to him that piracy isn't a game to the rest of the crew.

There's a reason that Rhys Darby was the only person capable of playing Stede without making him seem like a total dick. And I think that's bc Rhys was able to convey the idea that Stede's behavior in the first few eps is coming out of this deep sense of insecurity - he's doing some Stede-y things (flag making! paying the crew! bedtime stories!) that are great but he's also pretending to be this macho pirate captain who totally knows what he's doing. And it's the pretending that makes people cringe with second hand embarrassment. While also, often, seeing themselves in it and feeling a great deal of sympathy for Stede about it.

The reason Stede is like this is because HE thinks there's something deeply wrong with him, a belief that has been solidified by everyone around him his entire life, and therefore he needs to do everything he can to hide that deeply wrong thing about him. When he unpacks that and embraces the things about himself he originally thought were embarrassing (being weak, pathetic, soft, etc), he can stop pretending. And that's when other characters grow to love him! And so people will sometimes call him cringe because they aspire to be cringe like him, to embrace the parts of themselves that they were punished for and live more authentically.

because he changes! that's the point! he moves from cringe (pretending to be someone he's not) to cringe (being true to himself, always a deeply vulnerable thing to be) and it takes a lot of hard work. that's what makes me LIKE him as a character. that's what I think makes him the bravest character on the show. because he doesn't start out perfect. he's a puppet who grows into a real boy and that means that for a period of time he was a puppet, and that's okay.

#In your posts you say 'it's the pretending that makes people cringe with second hand embarrassment' & ''cringe' comes from when #you are trying to pass yourself off as something you’re not *& failing*.' I really can't say I agree. This is what I was trying to get at #when I was talking about the battle robe scene. Stede is pretending bravado when he calls the garment he put on to comfort himself #a 'battle robe' and when he asks for a 'refresher' on defensive maneuvers but no one is fooled by this affectation - not the audience & not #Jim & Olu. But this isn't the part of the scene that's Cringe even though Stede is pretending to be brave & failing badly.#The part that's Cringe is when he tries to claim affiliation with a group to which he doesn't belong & puts Olu in the position of having t #nicely explain why he's wrong. It's not the pretending that's Cringe it's the unexamined privilege & putting someone in an awkward position #I would argue that Cringe comes from the sympathetic recognition that someone is doing something they shouldn't & how you would feel #if you were in their place. I would like to share one of the times I find Ed Cringe that I don't normally see discussed in those terms #in fandom at large; the montage part of the French Party Boat scene when Ed is clowning around. I find this scene hard to watch because I #am intimate with the scenario of thinking you're among friends & being encouraged to act out only to find out later they were only feigning #friendliness & were laughing at rather than with you - with the shame of realizing you erroneously let yourself believe you were liked &#lending credence to the idea that you're *deserving* of derision by people who already held you in contempt by making a fool of yourself.#Again - not saying mine is the correct interpretation of this scene - just explaining how I perceived it.#Because my point is not that Ed *IS* Cringe in this moment but that we should all examine WHY we find a character's behavior Cringe.#WHAT about that scenario invokes that reaction? What messages have we internalized about Correct Social Behavior that is prompting it?#Are those messages valid? Are they something we want to continue to reinforce or would we be happier if we let them go?#This is what I meant when I said we should be cautious about trying to jam all the iterations of Cringe under a single umbrella term.#& why I think it's not useful to reclaim Cringe as an unambiguously positive term.#Because there ARE times when that Cringe response is identifying an actual social transgression.#I'd never say Stede is *never* Cringe 'cos there are times when he absolutely is. Like the 'one of the guys' part of the battle robe scene #When he says he's not a colonizer before the tribal council. Other times? That's more fungible.#& is going to depend a lot on the person perceiving the Cringe behavior & their own internalized deal.#If someone says 'Stede is Cringe & I love him' & means 'I love that he's unapologetically himself & loved for it & wish I was less worried #about what people think so I could be free to express myself like him' that's beautiful & I wish them luck & every happiness.#If what they mean is 'Stede gives zero fucks & has no filters & we should all be more like that' that's not just objectively untrue #it's also not how social contracts work. SOME filters are GOOD. Being aware of which ones you've internalized #& whether they're useful for you or holding you back is also good.#If what they mean as I've unfortunately seen all too often & makes me suspicious when I someone use Cringe as a blanket descriptor of Stede #is 'Look at that buffoon go. What a loser.' Meet me in the Denny's parking lot. I just want to talk. And keep some gates.

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confused-canid · 4 months ago

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Ngl, I don't think us aspecs should have to be nice and delicate when explaining why it's honestly fucked up to ship canonically aspec characters without nuance and understanding of the identity. If a canonically lesbian character was pretty much only shipped with men and like 90 percent of fandom content of said character was straight smut fics about that lesbian character, people would get mad, and rightfully so. (The same goes for a gay man character reversed).

But we aspecs can't be mad about that without some absolute BUFFOON coming onto our post like "Erm akshualy, it's just fiction 🤓."

And literally every time I see that the creator of the post is like "Well, yeah, people have the right to do what they want and erase our identities and we can't fucking speak up about it but it's not swag :/ Don't come at me though! I'm not a Puritan!!"

Do you guys see how fucking exhausting that gets? How we can't be ANGRY, a very understandable emotion to have about how ANY SPEC of representation we get is swept under the rug and forgotten about and willfully ignored? Do you guys see the problem?

It's fucking ridiculous. Allos, get your shit together before I start bashing heads in.

#aspec #aromantic pride #aromanticism #aroace #aromantic #aro #arospec #aromantism #asexuality #ace pride #ace #acespec #asexual #aspec community #aphobia #arophobia #acephobia

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riririnnnn · 4 months ago

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So, do you guys remember what exactly Sae said about Isagi to Rin after the U-20 match was over?

Yeah:

The instinct part to be exact.

I never looked into that too deep, y'know. Yes, I thought it was sweet that Sae mentioned it, but other than that, I always thought, "Um, was that necessary? Hm?" I then used to brush it off by thinking, "Eh, it's just the usual anime-esque speech, nothing else."

HOWEVER.

The recent chapter (271) changed my whole thought process and when I had finally thought that I had seen everything the Itoshi brothers had to offer, I got whiplashed again.

Rin's 'instinct' can be interpreted as his berserk mode (yeah, that crazy drooling one) and Sae knew about it for the longest time:

And that's exactly what happened a few minutes before the U-20 match ended, right? Rin went into his destruction/berserk mode and went head-on against Sae, right? And he won, he WON against Sae in their 1V1, right?

So, guess who was the one who pushed Rin into that state.

Guess, guess.

Yep:

Exactly. Yep.

Exactly.

EXACTLY!?

It was that very moment when Rin was like, "I want to fight on my own!" And realised that Isagi and the whole team just didn't let him be alone!

I understand that he included the whole team in his inner monologue later, but the start of the spark was Isagi! It was Isagi who slid into Rin's blind spot and sparked the start of his berserk mode!

You getting me where I'm going with this one?

Even before Rin's goal, it was Isagi who low-key and unintentionally riled him up:

It was after this small chit-chat that we saw Rin going straight to lock horns with his Nii-chan and then scored a goal!

You getting me?

YOU GETTING ME!?

And this panel has always stood out to me:

The above happened after the the first half was over and he was ready to leave with a reasoning roughly saying, "I saw what I had to see." And then we see the above—the rather soft gaze—I thought maybe he was just thinking about Rin celebrating his goal?

But now that we know more about them, I can say that it meant much more.

Please say that you are getting me.

And if we were to take everything I said with a grain of salt, then we can say that Sae was subconsciously also looking for the one who can bring out Rin's true potential, and Shidou happened to be just the right person—I don't think I need to elaborate on this; no wonder Sae changed his mind and hopped back into the game once the demon was taken out of the reserve.

So, if you were to look into things through my perspective, Sae acknowledging/praising Isagi makes so much sense now—he is still trying to keep his promise after all.

And this idiot.

You dumbass. You buffoon. You absolute donkey. Have you learnt nothing!? Your Nii-chan still cares for you! Open your goddamn eyes, you stupid Itoshi!

#blue lock #bllk #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #雪 ranting

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kimmie2me · 7 days ago

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Lasagna Drama

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Pro Hero!Bakugou x AFAB!Pro Hero!Brat!Reader

.....

You’ve been beat up enough times to know when you’ve hit your limit, but today? You feel like you’ve crossed some invisible threshold. Every single bruise, every single cut feels like it's been painted with the loudest, most obnoxious color of exhaustion. Villains really do have the worst timing—especially when you're just one bad decision away from completely losing your shit.

There’s something about fighting solo, about handling every explosive attack and every screaming villain on your own that drains you. But being the hero that you are, you keep pushing through, doing the job. The second you finish cleaning up the mess, though, the press—fucking press—are there, asking their stupid fucking questions like always.

They’re practically vultures, swarming around like they’re starving for something to tear into, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Every question is like they’re poking at an open wound.

Questions..questions..blah, blah blahh.

"So, are we invited to you and Dynamight's wedding?" the reporter asks, voice overly enthusiastic.

What.

You tilt your head slowly towards them at the speed of a snail, your exhausted eyes narrowing with so much venom it could melt through steel. A bleeding cut on your forehead sends a reminder of how badly you want to snap, but you hold back, fighting for just one last ounce of control. "Can you come to the wedding? CAN YOU. COME. TO THE WEDDING?" Your voice is slow and deliberate, every word dragging with the weight of your exhaustion and irritation. "NO THE FUCK YOU CAN’T! AND WHO SAID I’M GETTING MARRIED, HUH??"

You’re practically spitting, the anger bubbling up as you point a shaky finger at the reporter—though it's less for dramatic flair and more because you're trying not to pass out from your head throbbing. The crowd watches, stunned by your bluntness. The blood dripping down your face is probably the cherry on top of this glorious shitshow.

"MATTER OF FACT, GET THE HELL OUTTA MY FACE!"

Another reporter, some idiot you didn't try to locate in this sea of absolute buffoons trying to ask about your condition, gets a response that’s just as brutal. "AND WHOEVER ASKED IF I'M OKAY—" You gesture to the bruises, the cuts, the swelling on your face. The swelling in your brain too, probably. "ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND? ‘CAUSE YOU MUST BE TO ASK ME THAT SHIT QUESTION."

The PR team, their faces pale, looks like they’ve seen hell itself. They try to rush in and intervene, but it's too late. They’ve all seen this before—this version of you, who doesn’t take shit from anyone, even when she’s on the brink of collapse.

But this moment? It’s a whole new level.

A disaster.

A train wreck.

And it’s all caught on camera.

.....

Hours later, you walk into the apartment, expecting to finally see Bakugou at work on the lasagna, or at least close to being done. Because, god, you're hungry. You've been requesting (read: begging) him all week and it took a while, but you finally got him to say yes. Even if it was very reluctant.

Instead, you’re met with the sight of him lounging on the couch, his arms behind his head like he’s been living the life while you were off doing actual work. And today was his day off! He had all day to make it!

You freeze in the doorway, your eyes narrowing. “What the hell is this?” you snap, voice dripping with annoyance.

He doesn’t even look at you, just casually glancing at the TV where your earlier press meltdown is playing on loop. You’re there, in full glory, flipping the camera off and shouting at the reporters like you’re about to spontaneously combust from frustration. The volume’s up, and you can hear yourself getting progressively louder, each sentence punctuated by Bakugou’s quiet laughter.

"Did you seriously not even start yet?” you seethe, already feeling the heat of frustration building. "Where's the lasagna?"

“Yeaahh about that," he drawls "Yer not gettin’ that lasagna,” he says, his tone flat but with the faintest hint of amusement.

The weight of his words hits you like a ton of bricks, and you nearly stumble, caught off guard. “Wait—what? No,no, no. You said—..! But why!?”

His smirk deepens, and though he doesn’t laugh, there’s a glint in his eyes. “You go shoutin’ yer mouth off on national TV, actin’ like a brat, and you think I’m gonna reward that with lasagna? No way, Cupcake. Gotta teach you some self-control.”

Your heart plummets. The devastation is real, and you’re .3 seconds from a meltdown. "But—'Suki! They kept asking me stupid questions! Plus, I'm bleeding and hurt and in pain!” You point at your bruises, your puppy-dog eyes in full force, desperate to sway him. “You’re just gonna hold my lasagna hostage?”

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth flattening into a look that’s somehow both deadpan and amused. “Yup. Sucks, don’t it?” His tone is full of mock sympathy, but he can barely keep himself from chuckling when he catches the absolute betrayal written across your face.

Every ounce of bratty energy in you rallies to make your case, to somehow earn back the lasagna you’ve waited for. And you swear, from the way his shoulders shake, that he’s one second from cracking up, even if he’ll never admit it.

You start with the tried-and-true techniques, laying it on thick with a pout that would break any heart softer than Bakugou’s. He’s still ignoring you, now scrolling through comments about your press conference antics on his phone, his lip twitching as he takes in the spectacle you’d made of yourself.

“Kaaaaatttsukiiiii,” you draw out his name in a long, syrupy whine, leaning against the couch in a way that has you looking small and weary. “Look at me—don’t you feel even a little sorry for me?”

One look at you, with your bruised cheek and dark circles, and he does soften for a second, but only a second. His mouth tilts into something of a smirk, his eyes glinting with deadpan amusement. “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “You dug this hole yourself, Cupcake. Gotta learn somehow, right?”

“Learn?” you gasp, clutching your heart dramatically. “I saved a whole block of people! And all I wanted was some lasagna.”

He only raises an eyebrow, nodding at the TV where a rerun of the press conference plays. “Maybe if ya kept that pretty mouth shut, you’d be eating it by now.”

You press your lips together and shoot him a glare.

Fine. Time to step up your game.

You drag yourself into the living room and flop onto the couch, sighing loudly enough for him to hear. Then, even louder, you moan, “Can’t believe I’m starving in my own home.”

Still nothing. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. What a meanie. So, you ramp up the theatrics, muttering all kinds of melodramatic things under your breath, but every attempt only earns you a muttered, “Yer not starvin’, drama queen. Eat some leftovers or somethin'.”

With a scoff, you sink back onto the couch, dramatically placing your hand over your face as if you might pass out any second. “Fine, then! I guess this is how it ends... Left to waste away, bruised and abandoned. And hungry.”

Bakugou snorts, completely unmoved. “You’re such a pain,” he mutters, shaking his head. But he’s only encouraged by the little grin he’s barely hiding, scrolling through the comments online with a wicked kind of enjoyment.

You’re about to give up—but not just yet. So, you put on your best big, teary eyes and head over to his side of the couch, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “'Suki, please,” you say in a soft, pitiful voice. “Do you really want me to suffer after the day I’ve had?”

Without even looking down at you, he flicks your hand off, murmuring, “Don’t pull that pitiful act on me. Told ya, I’m not makin’ you shit.”

A few agonizing minutes pass, with him still ignoring your efforts as he scrolls on his phone like what he's watching is just the best thing in the world. Finally, with all your usual tactics exhausted, you pull out your last resort—the one card guaranteed to make him surrender his holdout. You hated (not really) to pull out the trump card when things didn't go in your favor, but hey. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Behold: The Mitsuki card.

A smirk plays on your lips as you grab your phone and sneak into the bedroom. Bakugou doesn’t even notice you’re gone, too busy scrolling through comments, probably snickering at people analyzing every part of your outburst.

You dial the number, and Mitsuki picks up on the second ring, her voice bright and full of concern. “Hey, sweetheart! You alright? I saw that press video today—those reporters looked like they’d been scolded by the damn principal!”

You sigh dramatically, just enough to paint the picture. “Oh, I’m fine… just a little sore, really. Sorry you had to see that. I took some hits, had a rough day. And now…” You add a slight quiver to your voice, “… now I’m barely getting by, Mitsuki ma'am. Katsuki refuses to feed me after everything I went through today. Said I don’t deserve it. He promised me too. It's okay though..I'll just have some leftovers. I wanted to just talk to someone who's on my side.”

There’s a deadly silence on the other end of the line, and you can practically feel Mitsuki’s rage building. “Wait, wait. He refuses to feed you?!” Her voice spikes with indignation. “That little brat. You tell him if he doesn’t get his act together, I’m coming over there right now! And of course, I'm on your side! Hell, I would've done exactly the same!”

“Thank you and, believe me, I’ve tried.” You sigh, putting every ounce of your frustration into it. “All I wanted was some lasagna, but he’s acting like I committed some crime.”

“Well, he won’t be actin’ smug when I’m done with him.” Mitsuki’s tone is so sharp, you almost feel bad for him. Almost. “You just hang tight, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it.”

You thank her sweetly, ending the call and walking back to the living room with a triumphant smile, watching as Bakugou continues to chuckle at his phone. He raises an eyebrow as you sit down, looking suspicious. “What’re you so happy about?”

“Oh, nothing,” you reply, a little too casually.

He gives you a long, side-eyed glance before turning back to his phone, mumbling something under his breath. He’s still grinning like a smug cat as he reads through more comments, clearly reveling in the mayhem you’ve caused. The seconds tick by, and you’re waiting, barely containing the anticipation.

Then—buzz buzz buzz. His phone starts ringing. His dumb grin drops at it, sees “Ma🤦🏼‍♂️” flashing on the screen, and he mutters something unintelligible. He lets it ring a few times, thinking she’ll give up, but Bakugou Mitsuki is nothing if not persistent.

Ring… ring… ring.

Finally, with a huff of exasperation, he answers. “What, old hag?”

“What?! That’s how you answer your mother? Especially after starvin’ that poor girl who’s had a rough day?” Mitsuki’s voice is so loud, you’re sure even the neighbors can hear it. Bakugou pulls the phone back from his ear, wincing, and you’re fighting every instinct not to burst out laughing.

“Ma, she’s fine—”

“Fine?! Fine, is she?!” Mitsuki snaps. “I saw that press video on the news! The girl’s out there practically bleedin’ her guts out, and you won’t even give her a plate of lasagna? You selfish little punk!”

Bakugou groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ma, she doesn’t need—”

“Listen here, Katsuki. You’re gonna give that girl a big ol’ plate of lasagna, and you’re gonna get her some damn ice cream to go with it, too, or so help me, I’ll come over there and make it for her myself!”

He tries to stammer a response, but she’s already launched into another tirade, laying it on thick about the importance of compassion, especially to those who put their lives on the line for others. By the end, his face is a mix of annoyance and exhaustion.

Finally, she hangs up, and Bakugou stands there, completely defeated. “You just had to go and pull in the old hag, huh?”

You give him the sweetest, most innocent smile you can muster. “All I wanted was dinner, 'Suki.”

With a begrudging sigh and glare, he stomps over to the fridge, grabs the ice cream, and scoops a heaping bowl.

Bakugou thuds the bowl of ice cream down in front of you. “Here,” he says, and his tone drips with irritation. “Happy now?”

You flash him a saccharine smile, knowing he’s gritting his teeth behind that scowl. “Getting there,” you say, taking a huge spoonful of ice cream. You savor it slowly, letting him watch as you relish every bite. "This will help me stay alive while I wait on that lasagna you’re finally making.”

Rolling his eyes, he mutters something about “goddamn brats” and stomps back to the counter to get started on the lasagna from scratch. He’s measuring ingredients with an irritated efficiency, muttering curses as he moves between the stove and the counter, clearly making a point to be loud with every spoon clang and pan scrape. You can’t help but smirk, lounging at the table with your ice cream while he seethes his way through the prep.

“Y’know, you could just admit you’re glad to make me dinner,” you tease, trailing a finger around the rim of your ice cream bowl.

“Shut up,” he growls, not even looking at you. “Only doin’ this ‘cause you’re about two seconds from callin’ my mom back.”

You laugh, knowing you’ve won. He knows it, too, and you can tell by the way his jaw tightens. But he’s still at it, chopping, stirring, and layering with perfect precision. He even throws in extra herbs like he’s really trying to impress you—or maybe it’s just his stubborn pride refusing to serve you anything less than perfect, even if he’s fuming the whole time.

When the lasagna finally slides into the oven, he gives you a long, exasperated look, as if you’re personally responsible for the next forty minutes he’ll spend waiting for it to cook. Because you were. Meanwhile, you’re content, scraping the last of the ice cream and smiling as sweetly as possible.

“Looks like you’re the real MVP tonight, 'Suki,” you say with a grin, earning a deadpan glare as he slouches in the couch besides you, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it,” he mutters, but he’s got a reluctant smirk, that little glint in his eyes betraying him.

As you savor the victory lasagna, taking big, dramatic bites and humming with exaggerated satisfaction, Bakugou watches you with a mixture of grumpy defeat and faint amusement. You’re absolutely eating it up—literally and figuratively—relishing how the whole thing turned out exactly the way you wanted. You even add a contented sigh, just to drive the point home.

“Happy now?” he mumbles, feigning irritation as he leans back in the couch.

“Completely,” you reply, all too pleased. “Though... later I might need a few cuddles to really recover from today.”

He gives you a look that could curdle milk. “Okay, now you’re pushin’ it.”

But you just grin, because you know damn well you’ll probably get your way. After all, you got ice cream, lasagna, and a little victory over Bakugou and his mom tonight. Cuddles? That’s just a matter of time.

All in a day’s work.

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grifonecoronato · 2 months ago

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Hot Take: Oshamir is One-Sided

[Spoilers for The Acolyte]

Star Wars fans know that Osha and Qimir’s relationship is doomed to end tragically. The Sith is a culture that eats itself: the apprentice either kills the master and takes their place, or is killed by the master in the attempt. So even if Qimir kills Darth Plagueis (and we know this won’t happen), he’s just going to have to deal with Osha attempting to kill him one day.

(Side note: I have a sneaking suspicion that Qimir is not actually Sith, since he never calls himself one, he just says "a Jedi like you would call me, Sith." But that's a topic for another day...)

Given what I know about The Acolyte fandom, a doomed romance is hardly something we'll shy away from; we’ll revel in the tragedy of it all, and the sadder it is and the harder we hurt, the more we'll love it!

No, I want to discuss something else; something I don't think many Acolyte fans really want to acknowledge... that the “romance” as shown at the end of series is one-sided: Qimir's side. The last shot of the series implies that Qimir and Osha are ready to face the galaxy together, hand-in-hand, but...

Qimir cares for Osha; Osha does not care for Qimir.

Hey! HEY!

Put your pitchforks down and just hear me out, please!

What Qimir Desires and Fears

Qimir -- his arms muddy, his dark hair slick against his sweaty brow, holding Mae hostage with his lightsaber threatening to ignite through her skull at any moment -- explains his motivation to Sol:

"[I want] freedom: the freedom to wield my power the way I like, without having to answer to Jedi like you. I want a pupil. An acolyte."

Qimir wants acceptance and connection, to be seen and appreciated by someone else. But he mentions several times that he wants a pupil, which by definition would put him in a position of power and authority over someone else, even if it's to help build them up.

This presents an underlying contradiction in what Qimir says he wants, versus what he really wants:

Does he want an equal who sees and cares for him?

Or does he want a pupil that he can teach from a position of power?

The show leaves the answer ambiguous, but nestled in this contradiction lies Qimir's biggest fear.

Qimir fears opening up and being seen. He wears a mask to conceal his identity, but he also hides his character behind his personas: the buffoon, the nervous helper, the murderer, the teacher, the seducer...

From Qimir's point-of-view, he's been betrayed before, and that betrayal left scars...

"I was [a Jedi]. A long time ago... [...] It was a really long time ago."

...so he needs to protect himself from getting so close to someone that they harm him again.

Betrayal and Murder on Khofar

So, on Khofar, when Mae reveals that she was only ever using "The Stranger" for her own revenge, Qimir chooses to kill her.

He could have chosen to run back to his ship and let Mae rot in Jedi jail (or wherever they take murderous Force-users...), rather than risk discovery. Attacking Mae and the Jedi was not a smart move if he feared being seen. But that doesn't matter: he's Sith, and he finds strength in his emotions, including his own fear.

So, he resolved to commit murder against Kelnacca, then slay the whole Jedi posse hunting Mae, and then deal with Mae.

But here's the thing: Qimir likes to frame his actions as self-defence...

"I killed Jedi. I killed those who threaten my existence."

..but this isn't actually true, is it? He didn't need to kill Kelnacca in his home -- Kelnacca, who knew nothing about Qimir, or Indara's death, or Torbin's death, or any recent event really, and who was absolutely no threat to him -- nor didn't need to face off against the entire Jedi posse.

He chose to commit murder and engage in combat because he couldn't stand the fact that Mae used and betrayed him.

Osha Sees Through Qimir

The conversation between Qimir and Osha seems to be him slowly convincing her that the Jedi are terrible, and that she should find her own path to power.

And, of course, that he can be her guide.

After all, he answers nearly every one of her questions with a question of his own, in a kind of socratic method designed to make her question her own judgment.

All the while, Qimir uses a gentle voice and gentle touch to signal that he yearns for her, that he craves her acceptance, that he can help her if she just accept it, that she can trust him.

To make her feel safe, he even lets her hold his lightsaber...! (😏 ...ladies...!)

This seems to work since Osha is engaging him in conversation. But Osha has seen Qimir in action, and knows that there is no possible way for her to defeat him directly.

Osha has the lightsaber, but Qimir holds all the power here.

Despite that, Osha calls him out many times on his choices.

"You killed Jecki."

"You killed Yord."

"I'm not my sister. I'm not so easily corrupted."

Osha never takes her eyes off her objective: to escape Qimir, get back to Sol, and confront her sister for her crimes.

Osha's Fatal Flaw

Mae and Osha are binary opposites in their personalities and motivations. Where Mae is community-minded, Osha is independent. Where Mae values tradition, Osha values freedom. And where Mae tries to repair frayed relationships, Osha does not forgive those who cross her.

It is this last trait that proves to be the fatal flaw that leads her down the Dark Side.

Osha. Does. Not. Forgive.

When Osha first saw Mae as an adult, she shot her!

She didn't try to reason with her. She didn't try to help her escape. She didn't say "how did you survive?" or "I missed you."

She just fired.

But you know what? Maybe emotions were running high, right? The moment was very heated, so spontaneous violence like that could just be a one-off thing, surely?

Except that the second time they meet, Osha tries to arrest Mae without listening to her story.

And the third time they meet, Osha is downright raging and trying to kill Mae...

... which is a little confusing to Mae because she's trying to help Osha!

And it is Osha's inability to forgive which leads her to committing her first murder, when she finally learns that Sol had lied to her for years.

Osha falls to the Dark Side all by herself, of her own volition.

Doomed Romance

After she kills Sol, Qimir continues to use gentle touch with Osha, pursuing his seduction of her.

But when Mae asked Osha "what do you want, Osha?", she didn't reply with "I want to be with Qimir."

She said:

"Let [Mae] go, and I will train with you."

It was a bargain, for which she offered Qimir what he wanted most: a pupil who accepts him.

Osha is signalling that she cares for him. But she doesn't.

Osha cares for her sister. And Osha does not forgive.

She remembers that Jecki and Yord were her friends, and they had nothing to do with Sol's crimes. They were innocent, and he killed them when he went out of his way to engage the Jedi in combat.

Osha is playing Qimir, just as Mae did. She will learn from him to use the Force, and then take those teachings to fulfil her own goal of rescuing Mae and restoring her memories.

Qimir will learn the truth of their relationship one day, and on that day, like all Sith masters and apprentices, he will kill her, or she will kill him.

(because that is not the face of a happy couple)

#star wars #writing #the acolyte #osha aniseya #mae aniseya #storytelling #oshamir #qimir #spoilers #character analysis #amandla stenberg #manny jacinto #master sol #renew the acolyte #lee jung jae #Grown up Star Wars

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newtonsheffield · 7 months ago

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Ok I’m a sap but poor baby uni student Anthony. That love at first sight or the literal fall have got him actually loco already. Iconic. I am here yet again begging for a snippet a crumb of happier times in these two’s future to sustain us through these angsty times. Peace and gratitude as per ✌🏼

Oh boy, imagine how excited Anthony would be to share the story of how they met with their children though.

He’d sit with Neddy on his chest, flat out on the sofa, nose to nose with his three week old son.

“Neddy boy, let Papa tell you a story. It’s the greatest love story that was ever told.”

“If it’s Wuthering Heights, I’ll scream.” Kate said from the floor beside him, watching them carefully as she folded washing.

Anthony scoffed, “Heathcliff and Cathy have absolutely nothing on us, thank you. Now, When Papa was young and virile-”

“Don’t say virile to our son”

“Me being virile is how he came to be. It’s pertinent.” Anthony plotted on, “Let me tell my story please, I’m an award winning author. I know how to tell a story.”

“Oh, by all means, proceed then master wordsmith.” Kate chuckled, running her hand over Neddy’s hair gently.

“Thank you for calling me a master wordsmith.” Anthony said quickly, kissing Neddy’s forehead before he continued. “When Papa was young, he was playing a game with Uncle Simon, he looked very cool doing it by the way. And while he was playing this game he ran into the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You trampled her is what you did.”

“There was minor trampling, Neddy, it’s true.” Anthony allowed, “And I fell in love with Amma right away but she didn’t care for poor old Papa. She thought he was an idiot, a fool, a buffoon.”

“I don’t think buffoon is fair, I had narrowly escaped with my life.”

“Semantics. Anyway, Papa waited and waited and they became best friends and finally Papa wrote a book to tell Mummy how much he loved her and finally she fell in love with him too.”

“I loved you much sooner than that.” Kate scoffed, Kissing Anthony’s cheek. “You know that.”

Anthony squinted one eye at her, “How soon would you say?”

Kate scrunched her face up at her husband, “We’ve had this conversation before, you really want me to tell you?”

“I always love to hear how irresistible I was to you.”

She flicked the end of his nose playfully, “I think I started falling in love with you that first night at that seedy pub not far from my dorm. You had written me a short story, because I made that crack about you being a bad writer and I… Well, I’m glad I was wrong. It was beautiful, and… you… had no reason to write that for me. You had no reason to have it in your bag that day and you slid it under my glass when I was at the bar and… I never would have said it at the time but I’m glad you ran into me that day. I’m glad I met you. Almost every thing good I have in my life is because of you and I love you.”

Anthony swallowed the lump in his throat. “We did make a great baby. I don’t think it’s any exaggeration to say he’s a genius.”

“Clearly not.”

#you never called it what it was #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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erabu-san · 23 days ago

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Hello!!I want to start off with the fact that i ABSOLUTELY LOVE your art!!The way you draw characters is amazing,you draw them nearly the same as i hc them

I was scrolling through your blog (the art is beautiful please dont ever stop) and i saw some anons complaining and insulting you for drawing some characters (mainly characters from natlan and sumeru) with different shades of skin.While i dont know much about this topic i just wanted to share my opinion.

Sumeru is based off of middle east,the majority of which has tanned skin (but its very mixed from what i know!).Natlan is based off of a lot of places (which is honestly another sign of racism in my opinion)I myself am from Turkey which can count as both middle east AND Europe (even turkish people dont know what we count as).I have a lot of middle eastern friends as well (Iran,Iraq,Sauda Arabia,Syria…) and they are brown or tanned and one of them is white!

i saw a lot of people say that “not every character needs to be black/brown” and i answer this with not every character has to be white.White,brown,black,asian,native american and every other race exists and every race deserves to be respected.No race should be insulted for wanting representation.No race should be seen as outcasts either.Wether that be white or black,no one deserves to feel like they are not fine the way they are.

I myself hc Zhongli as pale as a ghost to indicate that he is a god (as being pale is associated with being a superior being in chinese culture).I hc Xiao as tanned due to him spending all his time,day and night,fighting monsters.I hc Neuvilette has slightly blue-ish skin bc hes the hydro sovereign.I hc as black bc i like him that way.I hc Alhaitham as brown and so many more characters.Nobody would want to play a game in which there is no diversity.Diversity helpes the characters feel more real and gives them character depth.Diversity helps make Teyvat feel more real,like Earth itself.

But anyways this is just my opinion,i would love to learn more and hear everyone’s opinions.And if someone doesnt like your art they should just block you if they dont want to see it🤷‍♀️ Your art is amazing though so please dont mind those buffoons 🙏

Sorry it this got too long or complicated.English isnt my first language and im still learning

And dont even get me started on the body shapes of the characters

Hii !! Thank you so much ! 😭😭🙏

Yesss I completely agree with you !

And if I can be honest, I wasn't aware of this question of representation and diversity before Genshin Impact. Once, I saw a fanart with someone making a white character black, and in all of my ignorance, I was wondering why (a genuine question). So I asked my friend her thought (because I love hearing her opinions) and she makes me aware about representation in media, and issues they are facing to. And, wow, I learnt a lot ! Maybe it is a bit silly but, I always tend to focus on canon content, and all my HC was around interactions or their behaviour, and I never thought about their body appearance HC. And since I learnt that, my creativity developed a new skill ! So it is only recently I put HC on their physical appearance (like Sethos with dimples KKGEKDJS it ain't that much but it is fun, I guess HC on physical appearance is not my domain)

But it is thanks to Genshin, a game about exploring a whole world with diversity lore in each region, and what representation Hoyoverse used for making their game that I started to be into it. So yes, there is a lot of problem in genshin, making some rep worst. But without this, I wouldn't be able to learn more about SWANA culture with a thread I read on Dehya Nilou Tighnari Faruzan, Japan with Wanderer, Chinese with Yun Jin or recently on Hawai'i with Mualani and even on France United Kingdom with Emilie (i think I also read a thread about GaMing too...?). And what a surprise, I am close to France and UK but I never knew about Emilie's inspiration. Not only on character but also lore, and how some desert name in genshin is also part of culture (I don't remember where I read it tho !! Gosh i wish to reread it again).

I love genshin for its diversity whatever on region or lore but even on gameplay it offers us in our adventure. But I also agree on those who complain about character design ! Not only about representation, but about storytelling in character design (for example, you can't guess Xilonen is someone who forges ; her nails, accessories and hair would be on her way). And it happens that I receive some hate message (on tumblr and twitter. Mostly twitter) saying "this game is not for you, just leave" with some insults that I prefer to not share lol

I agree and also disagree. What do you mean this game is NOT for me ?? Searching our lost sibling, tragic lore, wholesome encounter, satisfying gameplay, vivid color landscape, with great characters, ALBEDO ??? Not for me ?! 🤨 My love for genshin is immense. But, I agree on the fact that.. yes. Indeed, I am not the target for genshin character design. I played a lot of gacha game, and it is mostly based on collectioning waifu with big boobs and big ass (you were a great game, Epic Seven...). When I look at hater's account on twitter, there is a pattern : throwaway account, account full of problematic opinion, or full of porn 2d woman with the basic hourglasses morphology big boobs big butt even on characters who are flat. It is undeniable that most of genshin characters are sexualised, and this, for sell them better. And, making them white is one of criteria to sell them better to those type of client 🙂‍↕️

I study sociology (i am a newbie tho, nothing deep) and I can extend this light analyse on what I learn : the success of Genshin, why there is such a contrast between Genshin players and their different profiles, the benefits Hoyoverse do and how difficult it is to satisfy all players (and so sacrifices are made, like characters design). It is all supposition tho BGKEJGJS but maybe if I do my last year of sociology and still into genshin, why not making my essay on it bahahaha

BACK TO THE TOPIC !!! (SORRY I HAD A LOT TO SAY) don't worry, since this anon hate, I tend to block everyone who try to argue or insult 😭 and just mostly shock how people are openly racist when they are behind a screen WOW lucky me I am not affected by those words ☠️ and all of this just because I draw Kinich black skin or Xilonen with a bit more textured hair...? That's so crazy ! Anywaaaay diversity is great and it works also on creativity too !! World is boring if everything looks the same, and it is also the same in Genshin ! Imagine in 4 years, genshin only released mondstadt 1, mondstadt 2, mondstadt 3.... I believe the game would be dead sooner if it was the case bahaha

And thank you again for all your compliments about my art anon !! I love drawing so much, and it is my source of fun and happinness <3 There is in some drawings I thought "wow !!! I improve !!" And i am so happy when people notice it too! 😭🙏

Don't worry abt your english, mine isn't the best neither BAHTVZJHGJZGAA

#reply #that's looong post here

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gegengestalt · 1 year ago

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Thinking about Mitya and Ivan

I think a lot about the unexplored dynamic of Mitya and Ivan. There is so much potential there, yet we only have the pieces.

Imagine being Ivan and meeting your half brother for the first time. You didn't know he existed until recently, he's practically a stranger. His manners are rough, he drinks, he makes scenes, he's debauched, just like your father, who made your mother suffer. He throws around money when you have to work to sustain yourself. It saddens me, but I can understand why Ivan dislikes Mitya so much.

But Mitya is no buffoon: he holds respect for Ivan and sees him as superior to him, even if part of it comes from his own self- pity. He's not the brightest, but he appreciates education and smarts when he sees them and wants to know what's on Ivan's mind.

Mitya is most likely eager to make a connection, but the obstacle is exactly the source of the personal pain in both of them and the only thing they had in common from the beginning, their father. Ivan pushes away those he cares about, but he can't escape Mitya, who will keep seeking attention from people and taking them for granted even when he knows they don't like him. And Ivan is too proud to not put up with it. This dynamic is a goldmine.

Ivan's relationship to both Pavel and Mitya is the answer to why although his idea has not been refuted, him as a person with prejudices had his downfall. In Mitya is the bestial man who was once one of those weeping children.

Mitya, a body aware of the mind, and Ivan, a mind aware of the body, as some critics say. Mitya, who would love God from the depths of Hell, and Ivan, who returns the ticket even in the face of salvation.

Perhaps they do have more in common than they think. I believe readings of Ivan as the rational one are very reductive, when his rejection of harmony is a question of his feelings towards the suffering of the innocent. His passions are bubbling under the surface. Both grapple with the tension between their pathos in front of reality and their unexplainable love for life, they have questions about sin and salvation expressed in different ways. Ivan presents the idea that if there is no God, everything is permitted, and Dmitri echoes it as a question that receives no answer. Even when Ivan became a representation of the intelligentsia and "Westernised" himself, he knows the eternal questions still plague his mind. Mitya barely thinks about God, loving God seems natural in him, and Ivan may think about God more than anyone else.

Despite their not- so- perfect relationship, it was Ivan who in the end dragged himself to court and claimed to be the guilty one, it was Ivan who came up with an absurd plan to free Mitya, and doing so he showed that he cared more than any of Mitya's relatives, who did absolutely nothing to help him (except for Alyosha, who could at least offer emotional support). It's almost poetic: the culmination of a relationship that was damaged from the start, as "Free the monster!"

Note: Their relationship to Katerina is also an essential piece to their dynamic, something that takes even more to explore and that I hope to see more clearly in future chapters of my fic, as well as the Ivan- Mitya dynamic I talked about here.

For now this is all I'll say about them.

#the brothers karamazov #ivan karamazov #dmitri karamazov #mitya karamazov #I..... love them so much........

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animentality · 2 years ago

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"periods are a universal woman experience that trans women could never relate to-"

Except not all women have periods frequently or at all, due to a cavalcade of medical issues or simply age. Are women in menopause just not women anymore?

"having a uterus is what makes a woman a woman-"

except women get hysterectomies. For a million medical reasons. Are they not women if they develop ovarian cancer?

"being pregnant/giving birth makes a person female-"

A lot of women don't do this or want to do this. Some women get c sections and some have natural births. Some miscarry, some get abortions. You don't get to decide what they call themselves, based on how you define your own female experience.

"a woman is someone who grew up with misogyny and the male gaze. a trans person could never understand-"

You don't understand because you're an idiot.

Different women experience different forms of misogyny. Black women experience harsher forms of misogyny based on their gender and their race. White women don't know the lived experiences of latinas and their relationship to womanhood. Chinese women live different versions of womanhood from Korean women or Cambodian women.

Some women experience blatant misogyny such as being outright forbidden from leaving the home or the country without male guardians.

Others experience more subtle misogyny, being discouraged from sports, expected to take on the role of mother even if they're working full time and their husbands just expect them to still be a housewife.

Womanhood has never been universal.

You are not born a woman. No one is.

You become a woman.

Just as you become whatever society teaches you to be.

A student, a laborer, a wife, a mother.

None of these things are biological facts. They are cultural.

They are the things we taught one another. But they are not immutable law, and your world is frightening and strange and nothing is as controlled as you'd like to think.

So choose now to stop being a fucking moron and think.

These people claim to be feminists but then turn around and insist they can label and brand real women and not women.

That is because these people are not progressives, but fascists who want to limit personal expression and civil freedoms.

You tell me that you don't think trans people should be able to choose what they do with their own bodies and then turn around and insist you're prochoice and pro women's rights and pro bodily autonomy?

You raging buffoon. you absolute joke.

The path you've chosen trails downward.

You have no other recourse, you're just too dumb to see which way you're going.

#feminism #terfs go die btw #transgender #lgbt #trans rights

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tinietaehyun · 8 months ago

Text

Forsaken [XIV]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader]

[Series] [Chapter Fourteen]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader [Ft. Sorcerer!Yeonjun]

Genres: royal!au, fantasy, romance, enemies to lovers, supernatural, action, fluff, angst.

Contains: Profanity, mentions of injury and death, implications of mature/suggestive themes, arson. Actions demonstrated by character are not by any means reflective of the idol in real life.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: With the two of you nestled in, wrapped in each other’s arms contently, you both begin to make plans for the next steps. You were back in Fortuna but needed to focus on your main goal. Getting your throne back.

As Taehyun and your feelings reach their brim, alongside hope mounting, it was only a matter of time before the universe had enough and rips away your moment of happiness.

“There’s no way to just charge into the palace and confront Sehun,” Taehyun murmurs deep in thought. Your brows furrow, “But you said we directly need to confront him?”

“Yes, but I highly doubt asking to meet the prince is going to work for you. I’m going to get imprisoned for treason and most likely be executed after you. You’ll go straight to him get ruthlessly insulted, he’ll toy with you and off you go to your demise,” he drawls out outstretching his legs on the decrepit sofa.

An appalled expression crosses your face as he snorts, “It’s a realistic outcome, no?” Glaring, you reply, “Well, yes. I was hoping to hear an alternative. A better one.”

A smirk laces his lips making you roll your eyes, “Take this seriously, come on, how long are we going to lounge around here in your cabin?”

He pouts, “Come now, lounge around?” His eyes sparkle mischievously as a sly smile appears, “Is that all we’ve been doing these last two-three days?” Taehyun’s gaze drops to your neck and you huff as your fingers instinctively go to brush over the large bruised mark. “I told you not to bite so hard,” you huff.

“You weren’t complaining when I did, rather I heard you make a quite different soun-“ He retorts before you interrupt him abruptly.

“Stop speaking immediately,” you glare, eyes burning into his as embarrassment floods your features. He was right, but that was beside the point!

A low chuckle escapes his lips as he runs his fingers through his soft blonde locks, “Just a bit of kissing here and there, lips and neck, had you so riled up, princess? It even surprised me.”

You glare in deathly silence with folded arms. He raises his hands in surrender, “Goodness, with that glare you could take down a dragon.”

A scoff leaves your lips at his sarcastic remark. Taehyun sighs laughing at your exasperation, “Okay, okay. Back to the topic at hand, what I was thinking is, we get intentionally caught.”

You deadpan, “You are joking.” “I am very much not, sweetheart,” he muses. What was he thinking? Doesn’t it lead to the same outcome as just charging in?

“Hear me out, we both enter Fortuna, cloaked, hidden as if we’re trying to buy, I don’t know, food or goods something along those lines, then by oh so pure chance, one of the guards on their patrol spots a glimpse of you. A chase ensues, we intentionally get caught. And then, we’re presented as prisoners of treason and you, a wanted bounty in front of Prince Sehun,” Taehyun explains.

You process his words, your brain churning and whirring its gears. Indeed large scale crimes were personally handled by the royal court in front of the monarch. You both had committed what he saw as treason and well, you were a wanted bounty. You’d both be presented to Sehun in the throne room as you had seen with other criminals whilst growing up.

Knowing your pitiful excuse of a brother, he’d miss absolutely no chance of rubbing his victory in your face.

“Mm…indeed, you are correct. We would be presented in front of Sehun. He’s an absolute imbecile, so he no doubt would gloat like a buffoon in front of us,” you murmur. Taehyun smirks, “So? Giving me time to work my skills, no?” You raise a brow, “Such as?”

“We are going to be bound by chains. Those I can whisk off easy with a little enchantment. Next I need to scatter the surrounding guards and leave Sehun alone. Easy pickings after that. Can he fight?” Taehyun questions.

“Remarkably well, he’s a great swordsman. He spent most of his time training after all,” you utter sighing. Taehyun hums unfazed, “No weapon has anything on sorcery. Even if he is the most skilled swordsman to ever exist.”

Biting your lip, you run back through the haphazard plan. Having the both of you caught so suddenly, would definitely lower Sehun’s guard, knowing how arrogant he is. This roughly put together plan may just work.

“Once he’s cornered. You can talk to him. Expose his crimes to the court, no?” Taehyun hums. “The court supports him,” you huff.

“Of course they do, fucking idiots,” Taehyun groans. You snicker at his frustration. It was natural he felt that way, he had a bad experience with them after all.

“Noble pieces of fucking shit; nothing in their skulls just money in their pockets,” he mutters irritated. “Can’t you bribe them or something?” He mutters. You nod slowly, “I suppose I could do that. I doubt they’d want to go against me when their present figurehead is cornered.”

“You could always have me threaten them, I could turn them into stone, into toads, into whatever you or I please, teach them a real nice lesson,” Taehyun muses bitterly.

“That’s…certainly an idea. I suppose we’ll handle that obstacle when we get to it,” you smile, “At the end of the day, they’re all spineless cowards who are unloyal. I’ll be firing numerous of them. Furthermore, I’m sure a little wave of your wand will have them quivering.”

He chuckles, “Oh I do look forward to a sight such as that. Those bastards have what’s coming to them for what they did to me and my father. Exiling the both of us.”

His harsh gaze softens as he peers at you, “You…you do permit me to have a little fun with them don’t you?” You smirk, “I suppose a little lesson is in order. Just don’t…do anything violent.” Taehyun sighs, “How unfortunate but I suppose I can do that for you.”

You both remain in a comfortable silence as Taehyun suddenly puts his arms around you from behind and leans his chin on your shoulder. “What are you thinking about? Haven't I told you numerous times not to worry. You’ve got me. We’ve got each other. We can do this.”

Placing your hands atop his, you murmur, “Yeonjun is there. You’ll have to see him. He’s in a powerful position too; royal sorcerer and Sehun’s advisor, what are you going to do if he tries to stop us?”

A moment of silence passes. The mere mention of Yeonjun makes him stiffen. The air around the both of you becomes gloomy. “I’m sorry I-“ you begin.

He releases a breathy laugh, “No, no. You’re right, sweetheart. If we are destined to cross paths again…well, then I do not plan to back down so easily.” Taehyun clears his throat, “If we must fight whether that be verbally, physically or through our sorcery, so be it. He means nothing to me anymore.”

“He does, you’re lying,” you frown, twisting yourself to face him and notice his dull expression. “It will hurt to see him, won’t it? After all these years,” you frown.

He becomes quiet for a second before answering, “I suppose you can see through me, hm? It just…reminds me of that painful time. The feelings I felt when I saw my father getting dragged away. The…condescending smile he gave me when I called to him for help - like, like he enjoyed it. Twisted bastard.”

You cup his cheek, thumb caressing it lightly. His gaze meets yours. The mention of Yeonjun left a bitter taste in his mouth. You lean forward, “If he sets foot in front of you, show him. Show him who deserves to be the true Royal Sorcerer. Him or you?”

A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Show him, despite your exile, you’ve only continued to improve. That you’ll always surpass him in every way possible. Not just sorcery. You are a better person. You know why?”

Curiosity gleams in his dull eyes as he watches you speak so determinedly. “Because, unlike him who’s hurt you, your father, to get where he is today. Through betrayal. You still surpass him. You have your father’s ability and affinity for magic. To manipulate mana with ease.”

You shakily breathe, “You could have rampaged, exacted vengeance, lunged at Yeonjun back then. All these years in the Woods of Mors, you could have meticulously planned revenge, yet you didn’t. You held yourself back. You’re more mature, you know your boundaries. You are wise, Taehyun. You are merciful.”

His voice cracks momentarily, “No, I was…I was a coward. I knew it would land me in more trouble.”

“You knew it would land your father in more trouble, possibly even execution,” you firmly state. “…yes. I-“ he murmurs lowly, “Yes, exactly. My father said not to. Even after he’d passed away, that I should never risk myself by going after the foolish notion of revenge, that we- we were better than that.”

A small smile forms on your lips. You notice his eyes glazing over. “Your father was a good man, you, you are a good man.”

“I’m not half the man he was, but thanks, sweetheart,” he solemnly smiles. Shaking your head, you grip his chin tilting it down to make him meet your gaze, “Where’s that arrogance and self-confidence I’m so used to, sorcerer?”

He remains quiet merely peering into your gorgeous eyes. You had a heart of gold; something he didn’t find himself deserving of. Why did you have to settle for less? When you could have any noble man you wanted? Yet you treated him so fondly. With such care, like a lover. You loved him right? Then why did he feel so terrified of reciprocating?

Was he afraid that as soon as you gain your throne back, that you’d toss him aside? Was he afraid that you, too, would betray him in the future? To place his cracked and beaten heart into your soft and sweet palms.

“Taehyun?” You call out; a flash of worry on your features. He gives you a subtle smile, “Sweetheart?”

“If you meet him, I want you to show him who you are. You’ve not once taken the step toward revenge. Well? If revenge presents itself to you, why not take the opportunity that the universe above has presented you with? If revenge walks to you with his wand pointed at you and an arrogant smile, will you let this opportunity slide too?” You ask with a stern expression.

“Being the better person. Yes, as good as it may be. Some people are not deserving of our kindness, of our mercy. That goes for Sehun. That also goes for Yeonjun.” You speak with a melancholy tone. Your gaze hardens, “So…”

Taking his hands and intertwining your fingers with yours, you squeeze them reassuringly, “So, let’s close all our unresolved regrets and close that chapter on our lives and move forward towards a future where no one can bring us down and we only experience prosperity and happiness.”

You hold yourself back from speaking further as you notice him staring at you wordlessly. Did you cross the line? Goodness, you must have talked his ears off. The last thing he probably wanted was an entire speech. Though you couldn’t help it, you despised seeing him hurt, so down.

“Sorry, I-“ you start before your eyes widen, feeling his arms suddenly wrap around you tightly; his head laying on your chest. Your heart palpitates rapidly. Your fingers run through his hair, caressing it tenderly. Taehyun parts from you, his gaze intense, almost restrained in a manner.

“Everytime, every fucking time,” he breathlessly laughs. Confusion appears on your face, how adorable he thinks.

“You continue to do it again and again, no matter how anxious I feel, how dreadful this feeling makes me feel. To think I shouldn’t, that I can’t get too attached, to not raise my hopes, to not think of a future together. To not kiss you again, not to lead you on, to not lead myself on, I can’t help it. I just can’t fucking help how I feel, you continue to make me feel worse,” he utters almost frustrated.

With an uneasy expression you murmur, “T-Taehyun?”

“You make me go insane, in the most addicting and best way possible. Whenever I have the slightest doubt you pull me right back in,” he laughs strained.

His gaze meets yours taking your hand and placing it on his chest; you feel his heart pounding like his life depended on it. Your eyes widen in surprise, realising your heart was doing the same.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel what you do to me? I hear yours too. I see the way you look at me. Do you see the way I look at you, sweetheart?” He speaks yearningly. You find yourself feeling breathless.

Running his hand through his hair once more, he inhales deeply, seemingly gathering courage. You await in anticipation at his next words.

“I love you.”

“I love you y/n. It’s driving me fucking insane at this point,” he utters with almost a light edge of desperation. Your lips part; you wish you could be surprised. But, you knew this was coming, it was only a matter of time of who would put their high walls down and crumble first.

You didn’t expect Taehyun to do it. That much more he made himself vulnerable, to think that he thought of you so highly. You regard him with the sweetest gaze and a subtle smile on your lips.

Suddenly, you lean forward pressing your lips against his, moving your lips against his with a ferocity that took Taehyun off-guard. His arm slides around your waist as his other hand takes your hand placing it on his shoulder. The intense kiss lasts a few seconds before you part breathless; an imbecilic smile on your face.

“Princess, you-?” His eyes glimmer unsurely.

“I love you too, Taehyun,” you murmur letting your fingers caress his cheek, “Let me repeat it once more, I love you too.”

“But-“ he begins in initial surprise, you shush him, “No, I reciprocate your feelings. I’ve felt this way for a while. Don’t doubt it. You have too, haven’t you?” He remains quiet before a chuckle escapes his lips, “It was a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

“Who was willing to become the most vulnerable, first,” you resume. “I suppose you’ve allowed me to be more comfortable with expressing myself,” he murmurs with a genuine smile. “I’m glad, Taehyun,” you hum, joy filling you.

“What does that make us then, hm?” He muses as his hand once again takes yours. “What do you think, Taehyun?” You hum back.

“Lovers? A princess falling for a sorcerer rather than a prince or her knight?” He murmurs smirking. You muse, “Why must the story always be the same? Who said the princess must always go for those two?”

“The court won’t approve,” he states. “They won’t,” you nod, “But that doesn’t stop me from loving you. Perhaps, perhaps if my parents were around, this wouldn’t occur. But,” you shakily sigh, “They’re not. My word, as the heir to the throne, is final. If they disapprove, so be it, it is a hardship I am willing to handle.”

Taehyun gazes at you so longingly that it leaves you quiet. “As you wish, your highness,” he coyly hums. Rolling your eyes, “Oh hush with that nonsense.”

“Do not think for a second, I’ll ever leave your side, sweetheart,” he murmurs seriously. With a smile, you murmur, “I never thought that for a single moment, Taehyun.”

He gives you a smile, a rather endearing one, in fact making you release a laugh. “What?” Taehyun questions. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around him and hug him, “Nothing.”

You feel rather content for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety, security and being cherished. You felt unstoppable with him by your side, perhaps it was naive, no, foolish to think that way but he truly did give you a newfound confidence.

After lounging around more and discussing a few more things related to confronting Sehun, Taehyun gets up, beginning to slide his cloak over his shoulders and hoisting his boots on.

“Mm, I need to restock on some herbs otherwise the food we make will taste shit. Perhaps, I can also hunt while I’m out there. Pick some berries too, I’m overdue.”

He slings his satchel over his shoulder and grabs two wicker baskets. “I’ll be out for a few hours, don’t panic if I run late after the sunset.” You nod with a frown, “Try to come back quickly.”

Taehyun grins, “Why? Scared the Bloodmoths are going to get you?” You scoff, “No, I’m just worried that you have only just healed and you’re already putting yourself in danger.”

“I do not plan to eat different variations of soup for another day longer, sweetheart. So, off I go,” he hums.

“Don’t open the door if you hear anything. Creatures here are rather different due to the magic phenomena here. Keep all the window curtains closed and always keep the candles lit alright. I’ll be back quick,” he smiles.

You nod, slightly at unease. He had done this several times even before you knew each other. It was his way of life here, why were you so paranoid? Perhaps, because you were both so happy for once. Afraid that he wouldn’t come back.

He bids you adieu and you’re left to your own company in the dimly lit cabin. It felt empty without him. You spend the next half an hour getting comfortable on the sofa, finding the drafty cabin to make your eyelids feel heavier and heavier. A nap, would perhaps suffice to allow the time to pass and prevent your mind from wandering. Yes, a nap indeed - you close your eyes content.

A pair of sharp eyes peer as he finally ascertains that Taehyun is far enough away. A smirk lines his lips, “My, my, you really have made yourself at home here, haven’t you?” His gaze darkens as he stands up from his crouching. Of course he did, not like he’d die out so easily; a scoff leaves Yeonjun’s lips. Of course he’d be a thorn in his side all these years later.

The palace in Fortuna was oddly in pindrop silence. A malicious smile appears on Yeonjun’s lips thinking about the events that had transpired these last few days. Sehun’s death came as an apparent shock rattling the Royal Court and the citizens of Fortuna who considered this to be a terrible omen. Now, there was no Royal Family to head the country.

“Oh poor Sehun, the poor boy. To think suicide would be his cause of death.” Well, if only the public and court knew. Everything was transitioning smoothly.

He still remembers when some of the members of the Royal Court naturally approached him. His eyes riddled with fake tears; and sniffling as though Sehun actually meant something to him. It was laughable to Yeonjun, really. He knew damn well why the members of the court approached him.

After all, he’d be the most apt choice to be placed at Fortuna’s figurehead. “Yeonjun, think about it, alright? We know it’s a lot to ask and we’re not pressuring you. If not, we can arrange for someone else.”

Bastards, he knew everyone in that damn hall wanted the position he was now set up for. These empty words and fake reassurances. Ha! These lords, chancellors and barons, all of them, they were just as filthy, just as happy as Yeonjun was about Sehun’s death.

It left the ruling spot empty, that’s why. Not for long. Currently, Yeonjun was the figurehead, temporary monarch, per se. Well, he’d make it permanent.

His mind drifts back to two days ago; when he found himself sitting on the Royal Throne. The servants all grimacing with disgust or appallment. The chancellor and treasurer were infuriated.“What is the meaning of this insolence?” “How dare you sit on the throne, as though you were King?”

“Because I will be.” The words had left his mouth sharper than any blade sending shivers into the two men. He had summoned his wand pointing it at the two as the guards in the room held their weapons up. “I will be King. The beginning of a new era. The Kim Dynasty is over.”

“Guards, stop this. This is treason,” the chancellor had yelled but to no avail. The guards held still. They were ordered to do so, after all.

The treasurer had been horrified at this stumbling back. Perhaps the recent deaths had some meaning after all. A purpose.

The foolish chancellor had rushed forward in his fury, making Yeonjun smirk. Well he had supposed, it was about time he taught these sorry fools a lesson, albeit, he didn’t think it would be so soon.

Thus, he had turned the chancellor into stone, in front of the guards and the treasurer’s very eyes. He still enjoyed the terrified expression on the treasurer's face as he fell to his knees, mortified.

Oh how good it felt to finally hear, “Your highness,” fall from his lips. He would stop at nothing, not even a rebellion to lose this position. Not with his sorcery. He’d make the people love him.

Yeonjun shakes his head; shattering his memories. Well now, he’d take matters into his own hands. There was still one glaring problem. The two of you. Not even you, rather insignificant as you were. It was mainly Taehyun that he was after.

Yeonjun mutters walking out from the shrubbery and brushing himself off, “Fucking nuisance, always has to get involved.” A breathless laugh leaves his lips, poor you. Because Taehyun had gotten involved, now you’d be an extra casualty. He may have even left you alone, if you’d been just a good little princess and ran off and started afresh.

Not many could traverse the Woods of Mors, rather difficult terrain, strange creatures and illusions. Any ordinary human would go insane in here, but of course, any magic user would be safe. Yeonjun had not expected much when he stepped foot in here. Though when he cast a spell; he was shocked to find an intense mana source resonating from within the woods.

Who would have thought it would be Taehyun's lovely little decrepit abode? Yeonjun chuckles, stepping forward towards the cabin. His eyes widen as feels a light buzz and he notices a subtly glowing dome around the cabin.

How very clever, of course he wouldn’t leave you so vulnerable. A force field, just enough to stop the dim-witted creatures here - but not him. He reaches his hand through it and grunts in pain as he utters an enchantment. Within seconds, the force field dissipates.

Smirking, he strides ahead reaching the door and gives it a knock. Hm, how would your pretty little face look upon seeing him and not your beloved companion?

You’re woken up by a sudden knocking. Yawning, you peer at the door. Was Taehyun back already? Abruptly, you stand and walk over, but before you could open the door. You hesitate. A nervousness permeates your lower stomach and swirls uneasily. Why were your instincts acting up?

Who else would be here? No creature would knock like a human would, could they?

You halt; you were smarter than this. Perhaps, peeking through the curtains would be better first. Thus, you do. You delicately peek through the curtains and immediate nausea fills your senses. No. No. No.

No way. Had Sehun sent Yeonjun to come find you? How could they have possibly known? You were all alone, against a formidable sorcerer? Your hands tremble as your lips quiver. Perhaps he’ll leave when he realises no one is home. Maybe he’ll think you’ve gone out with Taehyun.

You slink down onto the floor shakily, your breaths tumbling out of you as panic sets in. This wasn’t good. This came out of nowhere! You really hope Taehyun will come back soon!

Another knock resounds out, harsher this time. Another one. Fear consumes you as you find your legs unable to get up. This couldn’t be happening.

It goes eerily silent all of a sudden. Your breath hitches and muscles stiffen. Did he leave?

Just as your shoulders begin to ease, the door creaks. You hear a small sound reminiscent of chimes and the muffled murmur of his voice. Instantaneously, the front door flies off its hinges crashing into the wall and what little furniture there was with a humongous clatter. A scream rips out of your lips as you cover your head and curl up onto the floor.

Of course! Of course he uses his sorcery! Tears drip down your face as you clamp your eyes shut. The floor creaks as footsteps walk towards you accompanied by an incredibly demeaning chuckle.

“Goodness me, princess. Did I scare you?” Yeonjun muses. He coos, “If only you had opened the door, the first time I knocked. Too bad you’re a cautious little thing aren’t you? Did Taehyun teach you that? To not open the door for anyone, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, almost as if he’s restraining his excitement.

You shiver, pitiful whimpers leaving your lips as you sit up peering back at the broken door. “Oh, I'm sure he can replace it. Just a little wood and his wand, hm? He won’t be too mad will he?” Yeonjun grins. The light from outside gleams in around him, making his tall figure that looms even more menacing.

He takes a step forward; his gaze trailing your frightened form as you scoot back. “Oh? Do you not recognise me, princess? Or was I so insignificant in your eyes? I suppose your brother was more keen.”

You steel yourself and speak with hatred in your tone, “Did Sehun send you here?”

For a moment he ponders your question before throwing his head back laughing. “How funny! Oh princess, princess, no. I came here of my own volition.” You stiffen. What? Did he come for Taehyun, not you?

“Did…did you come for Taehyun?” You stammer shakily. Yeonjun walks forward with a sinister smile, “Oh? Why do you ask that? Did he tell you about our little history?”

You go quiet. “Oh so he did,” Yeonjun darkly hums. “Oh, you must hate me, no? Despise me for my betrayal. I could sit here and plead for your approval, beg you to hear my side of the story princess, but you know what? I won’t.”

You tremble; the look in his eyes. It scares you; it’s deranged. The look of a predator who had finally locked in on its prey, knowing it would succeed with its kill.

“To think that pitiful waste of space got tangled up in your mess. What? Did you bat your pretty lashes up at him, beg at his feet and cry your little heart out, princess? He’s not easy to sway or get to open up, y’know?” Yeonjun muses looking down at you. Tears drip down your face.

He crouches down right in front of you with a dark smile. “Hm, just how much has he told you? Everything about me?” You seethe shakily, “You’re despicable, being partly responsible for their exile. You could have spoken up against your father.”

Yeonjun chuckles running his fingers through his blonde strands of hair, “Against my father? My, he really went into the gritty details, huh? You two have gotten real close, hm?”

Yeonjun’s eyes gaze at your nervous visage before dropping to your neck, his eyes catch a glimpse of a dark, almost bruised patch and a mockingly amused gleam lights up his eyes. “My, my… I’ve got my answer. Very close it seems. Huh, didn’t think he was that type. No…I didnt think he was your type.”

He laughs as you feel disgusted; your hand flies up to hide the love bite. “Oh, then I’m sure he won’t like me taking you away from him then.” You stiffen. “What?”

“You’re coming back to the palace, princess,” Yeonjun utters nonchalantly. “No-“ you yelp, scooting back and he sighs almost in a frustrated tone, “Oh don’t make this difficult.”

“You plan to hand me over to Sehun. He’ll- he’ll imprison me, no- execute me!”

Yeonjun stands up, looming over you with a malicious laugh leaving his lips, “Oh? I suppose I should break the news, eventually, though I suppose you’ll be happy.” He leans down slightly as his voice deepens, “He’s dead. Sehun is dead, princess.” His words seems to send whiplash throughout your body, “W-What?”

“He took his own life, tragic, hm?” Yeonjun muses. You quiver, “No, no. I don’t believe you. Surely, he wouldn’t after all he’s done…” Your eyes flicker panicked, “Who’s running the kingdom? The people?”

Yeonjun smiles and hums, “Look at you, getting worried for your beloved people, how noble. No need to fret,” he reaches his hand out grabbing your wrist, “I’m in charge.”

Writhing your wrist in his vice-like grasp, you grit out, “What? Temporarily, you mean.”

“Oh no; I plan to make it quite permanent princess,” Yeonjun tugs harshly and you stumble forward, your face inches from his. “And the last thing I want is the two of you ruining everything at the last minute,” he darkly whispers; his breath caressing your face. He almost says with sudden hushed glee, “So, come with me. Or I’ll make you. Who knows, maybe taking a walk with me may be good for both of us?”

You snarl, shoving him away and getting up, “You disgraceful man, all you care about is yourself. The nation is hanging on by a thread, thousands of lives are dependent and here you are. You selfish bastard!” You rage. Yeonjun’s jaw tightens, “Don’t piss me off, princess. It will not be pretty, I really am trying to be gentle with you.”

You bitterly scoff, “You are just a pitiful excuse of a man. No matter how much power you wish to have, nothing will change the weakness that lies inside of you. The pitiable jealousy you have. The urge to show others that you are superior.” His gaze becomes malevolent as he summons his wand in his right hand.

“Mm, aren’t you quite the talker? Reminds me of your brother, he was always quite foolish in these situations. Never really knew when to keep his mouth shut,” he sends a shot of mana aimed at you and you duck with yelp; it barely misses you.

He steps forward, his wand prickling with intense mana energy. The air was heating up, he was infuriated. “You have no idea what I’ll do to get what I want. How far I’m willing to go. And what I want now is you back in the palace.” You snarl, “You are insane!”

Yeonjun marches forward, grasping your forearm and you scream with all your might. You stretch your arm, leaning over to the kitchen counter and grabbing the knife and swinging it towards him. He lets go with a breathless laugh, “Now that was dirty move, princess.”

You really hope Taehyun heard you, or at least comes back by instinct. Your eyes peer at the opening where the door was. You were trapped here within these walls, you had to get out. Yeonjun catches your gaze and he menacingly murmurs, “Don’t even think about it.”

Immediately, you bolt, shoving past him and make your way to the exit. Before you can even make it one step outside, you feel your body suddenly buzz; a similar feeling when mana has entered your body. You feel electrified before a sharp pain pierces you. Your knees buckle and within moments; your vision blacks out.

Yeonjun sighs as he hears the thud of your body fall against the cobbled path. How unfortunate, he wanted to kindly escort you back, but no, you just had to take the hard route, as most people did. Well, he supposes it will do you some good to get some shut eye for the next few hours.

He can’t help but smirk as he sees your unconscious face, brushing the hair out of the way. Huh, no wonder Taehyun didn’t say no. Who could deny such a pretty face? Perhaps, if he’d waited a bit longer when he was younger, he’d have manipulated you, instead of Sehun. It would have been far more enjoyable for so many years. Having you as a lover, would have made it much easier to get the crown, no, you’d have probably handed it over to him, yourself.

Yeonjun muses, “Mm, if only you’d have been a little more cooperative.”

Wherever you were.

He was bound to follow.

Yeonjun’s eyes peer at the cabin and the messy interior, scattered books and broken furniture. Hm, surely he couldn’t leave without leaving a little gift for his dearest old friend. He snaps his fingers murmuring a few words as a spark escapes his fingers landing at the doorframe. Not like he’d need this place for much longer anyway.

Immediately flames begin travelling up the rickety wood and the house groans as if in pain. A twisted expression of admiration appears on Yeonjun’s face. His years of hard work, burning down. Perhaps, it was a touch too cruel, but he had to be humbled. After all, he shouldn’t have gotten involved. He needs to learn his lesson again.

With a prompt grunt, he scoops you up into his arms, beginning to walk. He smiles malevolently peering down at you.

“See you soon, old friend,” he hums, taking one final glance at the now blazing cabin before walking off with you in his arms.

Smoke rises from atop the forest canopy, though this time, not from a chimney, but from the burning remains of one’s desire to hope and dream.

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hardly-an-escape · 16 days ago

Text

Square: B2 - FREE SPACE

Title: "would you go along with someone like me?" (ch. 2)

Rating: T

Ship: Dream/Hob

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Additional Tags: college AU, non-traditional college students, don’t worry they’re actual grownups, poet Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, history student Hob Gadling, referenced character death, rating will go up in later chapters, more tags to be added

Summary: Hob is a freshman history major and a first generation college student, while Morpheus is completing a graduate degree poetry. When they're crammed into a small room together due to a shortage of on-campus housing, it seems like an odd couple situation at best and a recipe for disaster at worst. But as the months go by, mutual respect turns into real friendship. And then... something happens that Hob never expected.

Link to AO3.

another @dreamlingbingo fill! I know it's been over a year since I posted the first chapter of this fic. I know. I'm sorry. I will try to make sure it takes less than a year to post chapter three.

October blew in, blustery and bright. The campus glowed with autumnal light. In the long, cool afternoons it would bounce between windows and gild granite columns. It even illuminated the study carrels in the fourth floor stacks of the undergraduate library, turning dim and dusty rooms into little pockets of brightness and learning and hope.

There were rainy days, too, but even they seemed apt and atmospheric; it wasn’t cold or dark enough yet for the grey days to be truly dismal, so the inclement weather was still more a novelty than anything else. A good excuse to spend the extra dollar on a hot mocha and wear one’s favorite cozy sweater.

Hob was either hugely elated or fantastically depressed, depending on – well, it could be anything. The weather, the grade on his latest paper, the relative freshness or staleness of the bagels in the history department, the phase of the bloody moon. On some level he knew it was just emotional whiplash from throwing himself into the deep end of academia after so many years spent in unacademic pursuits, but on his harder days he was beginning to think the hormonal soup of his young undergraduate classmates was rubbing off on him somehow.

On one such day, Hob returned to their tiny dorm room, dropped his bag on the floor, and faceplanted on his narrow bed with a heartfelt groan.

Morpheus was in his usual spot – perched on his desk chair and curled into a position that should not have been possible for his thirty-something spine and hips – and did not look up from his notebooks at Hob’s flop.

Hob groaned again.

“I imagine you want me to ask you what’s wrong,” Morpheus said, still not looking up.

“I am a fool,” Hob said dismally. “A fool and a buffoon. A nincompoop, even.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Sometimes I wonder what I’m even doing here, mate, I really do. I mean who am I kidding? I’m almost thirty two years old and I’m sitting in these fresher history lectures and fucking Stephanie is running rings around me. Have I told you about Stephanie? She’s nineteen. Nineteen, Morpheus. We have, like, three classes together, and she’s kicking my arse, she has her entire career planned out, all the way to a Ph-bloody-D, and I can’t remember whether ‘Ottoman’ has one T or two.”

“Two.”

“I know that, you insufferable git, I’m trying to have an existential crisis here.”

“Ah. And is that happening concurrently with your one-sided competition with a child? Or does one precede the other?”

Hob raised his head enough to stick his tongue out at Morpheus. Something he’d learned about his roommate over the past few weeks – something their dorm neighbors and many (if not most) of Morpheus’s classmates didn’t quite seem to understand – was that Morpheus could actually be screamingly funny at times. The problem was that his humor was so bone dry, his delivery so absolutely deadpan, that it was difficult to tell the difference between the times he was being funny by accident, the times he was being funny on purpose, and the times he was actually being deadly serious and would be incredibly offended if people misinterpreted his words as some kind of joke.

Hob had already been on the receiving end of his irritation more than once, usually through pure misunderstanding. He knew he had a puppylike tendency to assume that everyone was his best friend until proven otherwise; Morpheus clearly had a tendency to assume exactly the opposite. The very first time Hob, barely a week into their shared existence, had asked if the other man wanted to get lunch together some time and help each other study, Morpheus had bristled so severely that he looked like a porcupine and claimed that he had no interest in either food or company.

He’d never apologized, per se. But later than night, the sandwich Hob had smuggled back from the dining hall in his jacket pocket and left in their dorm-sized fridge, labeled with Morpheus’s name on a sticky note, had mysteriously disappeared.

Much worse had been the time Hob, in one of his occasional fits of organization and cleanliness, had dared to tidy Morpheus’s desk.

He’d been on a roll – had done his laundry (and put it away!), and changed his sheets, and swept, and tidied up the shoes and jackets in the tiny shared alcove that passed for their hall closet, and then he’d turned his attention to the built-in desk that spanned one full wall of their little room. Hob’s half was always a bit messy, with some piles of notes and one or two books left haphazardly open to key pages he was certain to return to at the right moment. But Morpheus’s side looked like a bomb had gone off. He always had at least four or five notebooks on the go, plus what might be described as a small mountain of poetry anthologies, chapbooks, and photocopied coursepacks. The corner where the desk met the wall contained a veritable snowdrift of various ephemera: scraps of paper, receipts, dried flowers, bottle caps inexplicably labeled with dates and locations, labels carefully peeled off of beer bottles, a scant handful of beads and other shiny bits and pieces, and a single earring that looked like some bright young thing had lost it on her way to the club.

And Hob wasn’t stupid. He knew Morpheus could be a little prickly about his space and his things. Protective might be a better word. He supposed it was a side effect of growing up with a bunch of siblings; though he was an only child himself, Eleanor had had an older sister, and had told many tales of epic battles over favorite shirts and library books and other such treasures. So hadn’t thrown anything away. He’d moved it all aside and dusted and wiped, and then shuffled the papers into a neat stack, set the books against the windowsill in a semblance of order, and collected the ephemera in a little plastic basket that had been in the share box in the common room. He thought, when he was done, that it had still looked pleasantly cluttered – just less like a tornado had gone through their little room.

He hadn’t been expecting praise. He already knew better than that. But he also hadn’t been expecting Morpheus to project a wall of furious silence for the several days.

It got so bad that he’d spent half an hour hunting through the “ethnic” aisle of the grocery store to see if he could find any English sweets with which to mollify his roommate. The closest he’d gotten was a Ritter Sport with whole hazelnuts and a packet of Canadian potato chips, both of which sat, unacknowledged and uneaten, on Morpheus’s side of the desk for nearly a full day before being shoved unceremoniously back over to Hob’s side while he was in a lecture.

Hob started to consider emailing Teleute (who had given him her business card before she’d flown back to London) on the fourth day, just to ask exactly what level of unforgivable sin he’d committed, and whether any penance could possibly absolve him of it.

He was, luckily, saved from the indignity of asking his roommate’s sister how to circumvent his little temper tantrum, and by none other than Morpheus himself.

He got home after a lecture one day to find Morpheus perched nervously on the edge of his bed, a bottle of Bass beer clutched nervously between his knees.

Hob shucked off his shoes and tossed his bag on his own bed before flopping down, legs akimbo. The room was so small that if he and Morpheus both stretched their legs out, their ankles would probably touch in the space between their narrow beds.

“Hello, Hob,” Morpheus said formally.

“Morpheus,” Hob said. “Talking to me again, then, are you?”

Morpheus, to his credit, flushed slightly. “I would. That is. I have… I would like to apologize.”

Hob made an expansive sort of go ahead gesture and leaned back, waiting.

“I was talking last night with my sister – not Tel, whom you met, but my youngest sister. I was…” He ducked his head. “To be frank, I was complaining about you. About how you had tidied my desk and how much it upset me. She pointed out, quite rightfully, that it sounded like you were trying to help; trying to do something kind. She also pointed out that there have been several occasions when she herself has made an awkward or unwelcome choice in an effort to do the right thing. I… cannot argue with her logic.”

“I really was just trying to help,” Hob said. “If I promise never to touch your side of the desk again, will you stop ignoring me?”

Morpheus flushed again. “Yes. And I would extract no such promise from you. It was. Thoughtful.” That seemed to be a hair too much genuine emotion for the man, who stood abruptly and shoved the bottle of beer at Hob. “I have brought you this. A peace offering.”

“Thanks, mate. I –” Hob began, but Morpheus was already throwing on his peacoat and out the door in a whirl of black. “Okay. What a fucking weirdo.”

The beer was good, though. A taste of home. Hob picked the label off and left it on Morpheus’s side of the desk.

read on AO3 >>>

#dreamling bingo 2024 #my writing #dreamling #the sandman #feeling some type of way about how long a 1500-word chapter took me #I actually wanted this one to be longer but perfect is the enemy of done #future chapters are still coming and they will definitely be more in depth

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thecurioustale · 5 months ago

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A Supreme Court Ruling that Should Not Be Enforced

I think the Chevron Defense ruling last week is the most dangerous decision by the Supreme Court this year, as it will immediately begin to disrupt the the entire federal executive's ability to function and will directly lead in the coming years to the dismantling of environmental protections, worker protections, regulatory oversight, and much more.

But today's ruling on presidential immunity is, by far, the most unconstitutional ruling of this term, and one of the most breathtakingly unconstitutional rulings I have ever seen or learned about by the US Supreme Court. It is up there with Citizens United (corporations are people), Plessy vs. Ferguson (segregation in schools), and Dobbs (stripping people of acknowledged constitutional rights).

I understand the need for individual officeholders to have blanket immunity from civil litigation (so you sue the organization, not the person) and even some qualified criminal immunity for that officeholder's official activities. But what the Supreme Court did today, in its 6–3 ruling, is declare that the US president need only declare or construe or even simply believe that they are acting in an official capacity, and, therein, they are immune from all criminal liability unconditionally.

The President of the United States is now above the law. Full stop.

For years I have wondered where we should draw the line on lawless behavior and extremism from our courts, especially the US Supreme Court. The thing about our rule of law is that you have to accept the outcome of court cases; if you don't you are basically calling for violent revolution whether you realize it or not, and at an absolute minimum you are calling for chaos and unrest.

I have always asserted that Neil Gorsuch's votes on the Court should not be recognized, as his appointment to the Supreme Court was the result of a power grab by Mitch McConnell. But of course as more time passes this becomes more and more unlikely. And Kavanaugh and Barrett's appointments I have no choice but to accept as legitimate, so even if Gorsuch were not counted this ruling would still have been a significant 5–3 majority.

Citizens United was real close for me to delegitimizing the ruling majority on the bench at the time, and the more recent Dobbs ruling actually crossed my personal line and made all of the justices who signed it unfit to hold their offices, but I figured that it would still be better to resolve the problem by passing a federal abortion rights law when Democrats next have the opportunity and continuing to try to flush the fascist judge problem out of the judiciary through maintaining control of the White House and Senate and appointing new judges over time.

But this ruling, now, raises the possibility by at least an order of magnitude that our constitutional system of democracy and rule of law in America will be dismantled by the next sufficiently extreme or unscrupulous Republican president, be that Trump himself or whomever else.

Just to give you an idea of the landscape that we now live in, Joe Biden could, at this moment, order military special ops teams to assassinate Donald Trump. Hell, he could do it himself: He could walk up to Trump and pull the trigger. And he would be completely immune from criminal prosecution for it now or ever. And that's just the beginning.

If not corrected, this will be used someday to overthrow our democracy. And by then it will be too late for us to do anything about it through peaceful means.

In 2020 I worried that, even if Biden won the presidency, it would just be four years of calm before the real storm began. At the time I wasn't thinking about another Trump presidency but rather the committed fascists high in his party who want to succeed him. Cruz, DeSantis, the usuals. Trump is a buffoon with very little self-control, but a lot of these other people are smart cookies. In 2024 my worry remains relevant: We are one step closer today to handing the fascists our country.

If I were the president at this moment, I would declare this ruling invalid. Because it is. Not only does it have no basis in the Constitution, but it upends some of the most fundamental assumptions of our Constitution and our whole legal regime. I would go before the public and say "This ruling is illegal. This ruling gives me the power to assassinate anyone I want; to run criminal enterprises from the Oval Office; to commit fraud and extortion and embezzlement of your money as taxpayers; to imprison my political opponents, shut down the free press, and forcibly remove from office any judge or police officer with the gall to rule against my actions or try hold me accountable. This ruling makes me a king. That is what makes it illegal. As the leader of the executive branch of our government, I have a duty not to enforce an illegal and unconstitutional ruling, and I am directing all federal agencies to similarly disregard it. Neither I nor any other US president should be placed above the law."

And believe you me, I would be tempted to go a lot further, including appointing six new justices on the Court and no longer recognizing the old six. But for the sake of the country and the way we do things in this country I would limit myself to the above action of refusing to recognize this one ruling.

I understand that this opens a Pandora's box. That's how the fascist resurgence in this country has worked: Republicans will do something completely unreasonable (like gumming up judicial nominations), forcing Democrats to break norms just to get the people's business done (like eliminating the judicial filibuster), which Republicans then turn around and exploit to their advantage (as by using their time in power to appoint whomever they want to the courts). But I think this is the way it has to be. We can't let this ruling stand. The other problems—Citizens United, Dobbs—can be fixed through legislation. This one can't, except maybe by a law that specifically declares that a president is not above the law, which I'm not sure would itself be constitutional. In any case, another problem with that is that fascists are selective in their application of the law. They have no problem ruling in favor of conservatives, but will never permit that exact same legal reasoning to then benefit their ideological enemies.

But yeah, this is bad. The Chevron ruling will begin to erode our federal executive in horrible ways, and this immunity ruling sets the stage for nightmarish conduct by a future president.

I didn't watch the debate the other day, or any of the analysis after the fact. I know who I am voting for, and, on some level, I didn't want to have to watch Biden's inevitably uncharismatic performance. And then everyone started melting down and crying that the sky was falling, so I went and watched a short clip of Biden's worst moments, and I get it. That performance goes beyond the stutter that often wrongly gets conflated with dementia. But in this case he clearly lost his train of thought and he did it on-stage in front of millions of people. That's a rough day.

I still don't think the mate is senile. I have seen plenty of people have the meltdown that he had, and I have had that meltdown myself. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. But even if Joe Biden were hunched over in a wheelchair drooling out the side of his mouth, I would still vote for him, and gladly. Because not voting for him is a vote for Trump, and I would not vote for a candidate who spent the whole debate lying and who himself is a traitor, an egomaniac, a convicted felon, a con artist, a failed coup plotter, and an ethically bankrupt, intellectually stunted manchild. And because, moreover, he has run a good administration. He has good people around him, and can be ably succeeded by Vice President Harris if needed. When you vote for a president you are voting not just for an individual but for a team, and that team's ethos, and I have no doubt which team, which ethos, I support. We are asking the wrong person to drop out of this race.

Anyway! President Biden is going to speak to the public tonight about this court ruling. I don't know what he will say. I don't expect anything meaningful a la refusing to enforce the Court's ruling, but it sure would be nice. President Trump should be prosecuted for his alleged crimes on January 6 (which is the trial most directly impacted by this ruling), crimes of which Trump is unambiguously guilty and which are "alleged" only in the blindfolded eyes of Justice for the sake of due process. America needs this accountability, or we will suffer terribly for want of it in the future.

#US Supreme Court #Philosophy of law #Fascism #American fascism

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