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eulangelo · 3 years

Text

callout for @genderfluidlucifer

google docs

tw for transmisogyny + TERFs + emotional manipulation

Transmisogyny

Lucifer is a huge transmisogynist who will complain 24/7 about how TERFs hurt the ace community, but the moment @randomclustermissile , a trans girl (who is not an exclusionist at all) tries to point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles (in the most vague and general way possible, without pointing fingers nor calling anyone names) Lucifer will immediatly jump to block her and so they did with me (another inclusionist) and i have to suppose to everyone else who agreed with that post, even arriving to vagueing about us in private group chats to suggest that we were “sympathizing with exclusionists”. all because we dared point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles. lucifer is TME but apparently they think they’re the authority on TERFs and their talking points but actual trans women are not, according to them, since this is the stuff that they would go and spew to other people. (screenshots from @enbyoctoling)

here’s more examples of Lucifer (again, a transmasc person) going deep in detail about how according to them, TERFs/SWERFs hate aro/ace people and are an active threat to us

1. link

[Image ID: Three screenshots of a post by Genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot is of a paragraph that reads, "Hey. So I can actually answer this. Anon your commentary about how you thought terfs would approve of sex repulsed aces is sort of it. Except...not. Basically terfs hate ace people for not wanting sex in the approved by terfs way. Terfs are actually extremely interested in [forcing] amatonormativity onto everyone. Because for as sex negative as terfs are...they don't want to actually acknowledge or change the fact that amatonormativity is at the root cause of rape culture and misogyny."

The second screenshot is a zoomed in section of the post that reads, "So yeah no I have NO idea where exclus allies are getting this idea from that terfs would even remotely care about the sexual rights of ace people. Terfs generally hate any sexualities in the LGBTQ+ acronym that aren't LGB because they can't force a gender binary onto those sexualities. At least, not as easily. That's why it's actually a massive sign of someone who doesn't call themselves a terf being a crypto terf if they use the term LGB in a positive manner. Along with the term SGA, as it is deliberately exclusive of nonbinary and not inherently SGA centric queer-aligned sexualities. /END ID]

link to the full post, these are just excerpts but the whole thing is just a very long rant about how TERFs hate ace people and so on (i think it’s worth noticing that although the actual post is kinda long, trans women are never once brought op in a conversation about TERFs issues and the only time transmisogyny is mentioned is not relevant to the conversation)

2. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is nothorses. It reads, "Because apparently I have to say it: Testosterone is not a 'violent' hormone. It doesn't make you 'more aggressive' or a worse person, it doesn't make you 'dangerous,' or 'toxic.' Transmascs do not need to be 'warned of the dangers of T.' We do not need to spend our transitions terrified that we're going to become a danger to those around us - that HRT is going to turn us into a monster.

Everyone experiences mood swings during hormonal shifts (pregnancy, menstruation, menopause, estrogen HRT, etc.) and while you might have grumpy moments or feel anger/frustration that you need to learn to handle differently, that doesn't make you a bad person.

Testosterone can change the way you access/process emotions somewhat, but if you're already thoughtful about how you handle your feelings and treat others, you're going to be fine. It's normal to lash out on occasion, by accident, then apologize and work to do better. It doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone on HRT is prone to this, and everyone experiencing hormonal changes is prone to this.

Getting HRT should be positive and affirming; you should not have to spend your entire transition terrified of becoming a monster."

The post then has a reblog by captainlordauditor that reads, "The big danger of T is that needle ouchy." /END ID]

here’s them reblogging from known transmisogynist user @nothorses (once again, the irony that a post about how testosterone is seen as the "aggressive hormone" does not mention transfem at all which are literally the main victims of this rethoric in the first place)

3. link (1), link (2)

[Image ID: Two screenshots of posts by genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot reads, "Queer exclus: We're not repackaging terf rhetoric! Saying that is transmisogynistic! Also queer exclus: Remove the plus from LGBT!" and has tags that say, "I will pay these people to grow some god damn self awareness. Imagine being this dense. Queer discourse." The post has 15 notes.

The second screenshot reads, "Honestly it is so stupid and frustrating to see ace exclus continue to deny that the ace discourse was started by terfs. Proof was given countless times. And a big name terf like galesofnovember even admitted to starting it. Those of you who demand proof but ignore all of this never wanted proof to begin with." and is tagged with, "ace discourse. The post has 38 notes. /END ID]

heres another two post of theirs conflating TERFs with ace exclusionism

4. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblogged post by furbearingbrick. The original poster is boxlizard, Lucifer's old account. The original post reads, "By the way for people still in denial about it, here's galesofnovember, a terf, admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement. She's taking credit for it. Normally if the victims of this behavior weren't ace/aro or other queer identities y'all be ready to rightfully lynch her. But since it's us, y'all just still wanna stamp your feet and go, 'Nuh uh!' instead of acknowledging facts." The part that says, "admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement" is a link to a galesofnovember post.

There is then a reblogged addition from furbearing brick that reads, "archived versions of the receipts" and has two links to the webarchive. The tags read, "Bringing this back since it's apparently still relevant. Terfism mention. Aphobia mention. Queerphobia mention. Blocklist." and has 1,455 notes. /END ID]

this is their post that ive already talked about but basically they found a 52 notes post made by a TERF in 2012 and this one person said "i dont know why i dont get to be the princess of the anti-ace-brigade" and apparently they are convinced that this means TERFs started the ace exclusionism movement and that this is one of their goals. which is insane when TERFs in real life only care about making life miserable for transfem people first and foremost.

5.link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is yu-gay-fudo. It reads, “Just in case you happen to be unaware, some of the “radfem lite” they post to warm you up to their rhetoric, just off the top of my head:

- Ace/aro exclusionism

- Bi exclusionism or claims that bi people are “less queer” bc of “straight passive privilege”

- Saying you have to be dysphoric to identify as transInvalidating nonbinary people

- Calling queer a slur regardless of context, saying people can’t identify as queer, and saying that it can’t be reclaimed

- “Mogai hell”, “kweer”, or otherwise mocking less common labels and claiming they are “just cishets who want to feel special”

- Excluding sex workers from feminist discussions or claiming that sex work is inherently evil

- Basically anyone who thinks they can determine what other people identify as”. The tags read, "queerphobia tw. twerfs tw. no id." and has 70,727 notes. It was reblogged on March 22nd, 2021 /END ID]

another example of conflating radfems to things that, while wrong, have little to nothing to do with them because being a radfem, again, is something very specific that has all to do with transfem oppression.

Emotional manipulation

Lucifer has done nothing but block, break boundaries, spread lies and vague about people, some of which were even mutuals with them knowing they would see the posts. when confronted about it Lucifer's only answer was "just say you hate me and block me" but they actually ended up blocking everyone first, making it impossible for anyone to set some boundaries with them or even just to calmly confront them about anything.

[proof: Io(popncourse) and Lucifer had a disagreement in a shared discord server, which prompted Lucifer to vague Io in a vent post. Io confronted them, as being vagued is one of buns triggers, to which Lucifer initially agreed to delete the vent post, but then proceeded to victimize themself and immediatly blocked Io. later on, Jude(malewifedeckard) was confronted by Lucifer, then after Jude told them “I’m worried that you’ll vague me just like you did with Io” they proceeded to block Jude and vagued about him too. when Io made a post (which was not a callout, it was just bun setting buns boundaries) explaining what Lucifer did, Lucifer immediatly jumped to victimize themself, acting like they were being called out and straight-up lying, even going so far as to say that no one tried to hear them out, which is a blatant lie if you consider the aforementioned Io and Jude’s attempts at doing so, with Lucifer immediatly blocking and cutting ties with the both of them. ]

(screenshots taken by @popncourse and @malewifedeckard)

as seen in the proof above Lucifer’s behaviour is not ok because they don’t accept any kind of confrontation and immediatly jump to blocking, and after blocking, they'd immediatly go and vague about the people who confronted them pacificly, spreading more lies and painting themself as the victim and even arriving to say “no one hears me out at all” which is simply not something you can say when you block people who are trying to hear you out in the first place.

this is by no means an invitation to go and harass them, send them hate or anything like that. i absolutely don’t want anything even remotely hateful or negative to be sent their way after this post.

this post was only made because:

1. as an ace person who fully supports the inclusion of aspec identities in the lgbt+ community i don’t want to support an enviroment that costantly downplays transmisogynistic oppression in order to be taken seriously. there are hundreds of ways to make aspec activism without acting like we(as in TME aspecs)are the victims of a system that seeks for the annihilation of transfemenine people in real life everyday. i especially don’t want to support TME individuals who act transfem-friendly but then block any transfem who tries to speak on transmisogyny without a second thought.

2. Lucifer’s behaviour has hurt two friends of mine and i don’t want to associate with someone who actively breaks people’s boundaries without taking accountability when messing up.

3. i cannot associate with someone who spreads lies about me accusing me of sympathizing with exclusionists all while having me blocked so that i can’t see it nor defend me. they complain about people not hearing them out but they’re the very first person who does not try to hear people out, and instead jumps to spread baseless rumors. this is not someone i can nor want to associate with.

(image descriptions provided by @malewifedeckard)

#genderfluidlucifer #transmisogyny tw #terfs tw #ask to tag #txt #long post #ok to rb

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starlitmark · 3 years

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for the Resonance Beach Collab hosted by @amorajae

Genre: fluff, angst, slightly suggestive

Pairing: bartender!Ten x fem!reader

Summary: When your friend forces you on a vacation by yourself to get over your horrible ex, what better option than to drink your problems away with the cute bartender that’s vaguely familiar?

Warnings: mentions of breakups, language, alcohol use, mentions of sex, ten is bi (mentions of Ten x Doyoung)

Word Count: 5.3k

“You really need to get over this boy. He was obviously no good for you.” your friend groans as she finds you still curled up in bed at noon.

You roll over not wanting to hear any of it. Yeah, you broke up with Dejun two months ago but it still hurts like it’s fresh. He had broken up with you after two years of cheating on you to be with the other girl. You had only taken awareness of his cheating a few days before he had dumped you. Now here you are two months later still wallowing in self-pity. You feel your friend shake you trying to get you to at least show your face from underneath your cave of blankets. Eventually, you give in showing her your eyes and forehead glaring at her all the while. She gives you a sympathetic smile before talking again.

“I booked you a room at the resort your parents would take us to as kids. It’ll be a good getaway for you.” she starts “You really need to get out of the house.”

“I’m sorry, what? You did what?” you sit up to emphasize your point “You didn’t have to do that, I’m really fine!” a total lie.

“It’s done. You leave next week.” she stated giving you no way to back out of it.

“What do I need to pack then?” you sigh

“You know what to pack, we’ve gone there since we were like five.” she giggles

“I know I know but like, I don’t want to pack. Can’t you do it for me?”

“You trust me to do that? You know I’ll just pack you sexy outfits to get guys’ attention.”

You immediately spring out of bed, “I’ll do it thanks!” causing her to giggle again.

You got an Uber to the airport despite second-guessing yourself for going. You trudge your way through and the airport through security. You feel like you’re going to regret ever going on this vacation your friend forced you on. You know she just wants the best for you but you feel like shit still and you don’t want to go out anywhere. Yet here you are. You want so badly to just run back home to your bed, hide away from the world again. Away from more possible heartbreak, swallowing any regrets you may have you sit in your terminal waiting for your flight to begin boarding.

Scrolling through Instagram as you’ve been avoiding for the past two months you finally see it. There he is in all his... horror? Glory? Whatever it is, there he is. Xiao Dejun, your absolutely gorgeous ex-boyfriend with the girl he was cheating on you with for two years. They look so happy, so in love with each other, as if you were never in the picture at all. How could she be so okay with him after finding out that she was the side piece for so long? Scrolling past you felt a weight in your stomach that had been there when it had first happened. Now it’s back again but you couldn’t let it get to you more than it already was. You were going on vacation to forget about him, about the whole situation.

It took every fiber of your being not to text Dejun and beg him to come back to you even if it meant you had to share him with his current girlfriend. You just wished you could have been his one and only as you had been lead to believe for so long. However, before you could even open your messages to go to his text thread your flight was called to boarding, perfectly timing you to avoid a huge mistake.

Arriving at the hotel finally, you walked straight to the check-in desk hoping to avoid any people you may know as unlikely as that circumstance may be. Sitting there was a girl who couldn’t be much younger than you, a cheery smile rested on her lips. Beside her, a man who looked to be about your age was leaned back feet on the desk as if he owned the place. As you finally stand directly in front of them they break their conversation.

“Hello, miss! How may I be of service to you?” the girl enthused standing up in the process.

“Hi, um, my name is y/n… I should have a room reserved for the next week.” you calmly reply.

“Of course! Let me check the books!” she looked at the man to move.

“Yeji, I have no intentions of moving if that’s what you expect.” he dryly laughs

“Come on, please.” she whines slightly, “I need to do my job.”

“Fine, I’ll just do it.” he sighs “What was your name again?” he directs his attention to you.

“It’s y/n” you restate.

He gets to work searching on the computer in front of him. You’re almost taken aback, even with how abrasive the computer light is, his face still looks extremely charming with all the sharp edges and smooth complexion. You don’t realize you’re staring until he looks at you as if you’re stupid.

“Miss, did you not hear me?” he asks

“Sorry, no, could you repeat that.”

“You’re in room number 419, it just so happens I live a few doors down from where you’re staying.” he smirks “If you ever get bored just come by I’ll entertain you.”

Yeji gasps at his comment “Yongqin! You have to stop flirting with guests!” she smacks his arm.

“Hey, I don’t flirt with all of them, just the pretty ones.” he chuckles placing his feet back on the desk.

“I’m sorry about my brother,” she sighs “here’s your room key. If you ever need help just give a call down to the help desk and ask for me.”

“Thank you Yeji, I really appreciate all you’ve done.” you smile at her walking towards the elevator suitcase in tow.

You couldn’t pinpoint why, but the two of them were so familiar to you. Yeji’s bright smile seemed like one you had always known, Yongqin’s sass and flirtatious nature seemed normal to you. You shake your head forgetting the odd encounter exiting the elevator and making your way to the door of your room. Exhausted from your flight, despite it only being two hours, you flop down on your bed letting out a deep sigh. You stare at the ceiling for a while thinking about nothing. Yet again, your thoughts are soon plagued with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend. Where was he right now? How was he doing? Does he ever miss you? You feel your eyes prick with tears, you came here per your friend’s request to forget about him but here you are thinking about him constantly throughout the flight and while you rest in your room. Letting out another deep sigh you push yourself up and get to unpacking. Of course, your friend being her, she stuck some more revealing numbers in there despite you packing your bag yourself. You also find a note stuck to one of the dresses resting in the bottom of your suitcase.

‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else ;)’

You roll your eyes throwing the note away and throwing the dress in a drawer with the other dresses you had packed. You tuck your luggage in the closet out of the way, allowing you to more freely move about your room before deciding what you want to do.

“Ya know what? Maybe I’ll just get drunk and stay drunk this entire week,” you murmur to yourself “That’ll help me forget about him, even if it’s momentary.”

You nod affirming yourself before looking over at the time. 5:30, that’s late enough to go down to the hotel bar, right? Shrugging you ready yourself to get drunk beyond belief.

You sit at the bar ready to forget about your shitty ex and his gorgeous girlfriend. You rest your head in the palm of your head letting yourself take in your surroundings and decide on how you wish to get drunk tonight. The bartender is turned away from you at the moment stopping you from gaining his attention to get you a drink. You tap your free fingers against the wood of the bar impatient to get some alcohol in your system.

“Hello pretty girl,” a stranger approaches you, you attempt to ignore him until he places a hand on your bare shoulder “come on beautiful, you wouldn’t ignore me would you?”

“Actually I would, and I am.” you scoff at him

“Don’t break my heart dear, I just want to show you a good time.” he sleazily pushes

Just then the bartender approaches you, you see Yongqin just as shocked as you are to see each other. At the moment though you don’t have the time to be shocked. You plea with your eyes for him to help you escape the sleazy man trying to pick you up. As if he telepathically communicated with you he jumps into the situation.

“Babe, is he bothering you?” he asks urging you to go along with his act.

“Uh, um, yeah honey. He is.” you play along “Thank you for coming by to help me.” you flutter your eyelashes at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the man grumbles.

Yongqin places a kiss on your cheek further convincing the sleaze bag that you were his. He growls again before stomping off to find some other woman to bother. You awkwardly giggle before sitting further back in your seat. Yongqin presses both his hands into the bar before speaking up.

“So, now that creepy is out of the picture, what can I get you to drink princess?” he winks.

“Vodka. I need to forget.” you groan.

“May I ask what you want to forget?” he asks placing a set of shots in front of you with lime.

“Ask me again when I’m drunk.” you raise your first shot glass and shooting it back before grabbing a lime from the reserve.

He nods before returning to tending to other patrons of the bar.

Throughout the night you repeatedly called him back asking for more rounds of vodka to assist you through the night. The entire time he made sure to keep an eye on you, you were beautiful, this much he knew. He just knew some other creep would come and hit on you, or the same one would return when you were more inebriated. Whenever he had downtime between guests asking for drinks he would hang around you keeping an eye on any men near you. By the end of the night, there were very few people around anymore, just you and a few others. You giggled and giggled fully intoxicated laughing at nothing in particular. Your mood changed on a dime when you’re drunk though, within no time you were bawling your eyes out. Then a split second later you’re back to giggling. Yongqin has seen his fair share of drunk people thanks to his job but you make him smile even in your drunk state. Just as he expected though the sleazy man from before approaches you again. He moves slightly closer to listen in on what he says to you.

“Hi, darling, you willing to entertain me yet?” he presses himself against your back.

“Why do I feel like I’ve met you before?” you giggle, too drunk to care who he was.

“I don’t know dear, why don’t you come with me and find out if we do know each other after all?” he urges.

“I think not,” Yongqin interjects, “She obviously isn’t sober enough to tell you to fuck off so I will.”

“And what gives you the right to do so?” he barks back.

“It’s part of my job to look after the bar, that includes its patrons.” he glares back “Now, I’d appreciate it if you left this young lady alone.”

Again the man grumbles and storms away finally leaving the bar.

“Thank you,” you giggle “ya know, you remind me of a little boy I used to play with when my family vacationed here. He had a little sister too. I could never pronounce his name though.” you smiled at him remembering “I just called him Ten because… well I don’t know why but I did.”

You looked up at him to see a shocked face. You gave him a questioning look before you started laughing at nothing again. Eventually, he recovered from his shock and spoke up again.

“You’re too drunk to get back to your room safely. Wait for me to clean things up then I’ll take you there.” he said wetting a rag to wipe down the counter of the bar.

“Mmhmm” you drunkenly smile at him “You’re really sweet Yongqin, you know that?”

“Am I?” he chuckles still cleaning “What makes you say that?”

“You’re making sure I’m taken care of. Dejun wouldn’t have done that for me. Not in a million years. Also, you’re gonna give me one more shot right?” you hum.

“No, I am not giving you another shot.” he chuckles “Remember when you told me ‘ask me when I’m drunk?” he pauses.

“Mmm,” you respond, “what about it?”

“What is it that you want to run from?” he asks starting to clean again.

“You tell me first, what are you running from?” you fire back

“We’re all running from something. I just happen to be someone who’s curious about what it is that you run from.” he stops dead in front of you.

“Well, Yongqin, let’s get back upstairs, and then I’ll spill my guts to you.” you giggle booping his nose.

“Luckily I just finished cleaning.” he smiles at your giggly state.

“What do you mean you don’t have your room key?” Yongqin groans

“I left it in the room I think,” you giggle still very drunk, “it’s okay though. We can go downstairs and get the master key right?” you lean your weight into him.

“In theory that’s a great idea, but Yeji keeps the master key with her, and I know for a fact she’s sleeping right now.”

You giggle again wrapping your arms around his waist and look up, “You’re stuck with me then, to your room we go!”

“W-what? We can’t do that.”

“Why?” you ask in a sweet tone “You said if I was ever bored you’d entertain me.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “don’t think anything’s happening. You’re too drunk to consent to anything at all.”

“I said I’d spill my guts to you when I was drunk didn’t I? And I’m drunk aren’t I?” you smile lazily.

He nods catching your drift and guides you to his room. Once inside you decide that your dress was bothersome and begged him for something to change into. Sighing he threw you some sweats and a t-shirt you could use for the night. By the time you return to the main area of his room, he was also changed and scrolling through his phone on his bed. You flop next to him surprising him slightly. You cup your face in your hands kicking your feet behind you as if you’re a preteen girl at a sleepover.

“You ready to listen to my sob story?” you giggle as if you weren’t going to be crying in ten minutes.

“Whenever you’re ready.” he chuckles along with you placing his phone down on the side table.

You scooch closer to lay back beside him not realizing how the situation may become awkward. Although it doesn’t, he lets you lay beside him and even goes as far as to let you snuggle in beside him and wrap his arm around your shoulder. It felt right almost.

“So, here goes nothing I guess. I was dating this guy, Dejun, everything was so beautiful and happy with him. He treated me right, everything was like it was out of a fairytale.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in acknowledgment, “what happened?”

“He was a cheater… he was seeing another woman for the last two years of our relationship. You’d think I’d see the signs, notice he was more distant and rude to me. Hiding his phone from me, avoiding some topics of conversation like marriage. I thought he was just nervous that things were getting more serious, we dated for five years. You’d think a man would know how to commit after a certain point, you know? I guess I should’ve seen the signs that he was going behind my back with a prettier woman. It’s okay though cause he was shit in bed.” you sniffle

“I feel like you’re lying about that last part and I severely doubt that she’s prettier than you.” he consoles.

“Believe me, she is. And you’re right I was lying, that man was so good.” you dryly chuckle.

“Well, I’ve known you since we were kids. You’ve always been the kindest, sweetest, most caring, smartest, and most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Even if we went like seven years without seeing each other, I know that of all the people I’ve seen come through those doors you’re the most beautiful in every aspect.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the bartender, Ten was here when I was a kid, he was the chef’s son.”

“Yeah, dad still works here. I just grew up and became the bartender here cause it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.” he explained.

“Y-you… Yongqin… there’s no way.” you say still drunk and confused.

“I’ve missed you.” he smiled hugging you tightly.

You burst into tears, you didn’t exactly know why, you just knew that hugging him felt like home. It felt absolutely and utterly right. He pets your hair as you cried into his chest.

“Why are you crying?” he hushed you, “There’s nothing to cry over.”

You sniffled again before answering, “I just think I needed a good cry, I never let it out when Dejun left me and then finding you again. You have no idea how much it means to me.” you burry your face back into his shirt.

“Let’s sleep for now, in the morning I’ll repay the favor and tell you my sob story, yeah? I know you probably won’t remember this in the morning anyway.”

You nod letting him hold you and let sleep take over your body.

You groan waking up with a nasty hangover, you push against the blankets you’re tangled in to realize that they aren’t blankets. Shock sinks into your stomach as you quickly detach yourself and hide in the bathroom to panic in peace. Not long after you go to hide you hear shuffling towards the door followed by a gentle knock.

“Y/n” he mumbles in his morning voice, “are you okay?”

“No! Why am I in your room, wearing your clothes, and why was I asleep in your bed?” you bombard him with questions.

“Well, we didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re worried about” he calms you, “We did come to the revelation that I’m that boy you played with here as a kid, me and Yeji.”

You slowly creak the door open letting him make eye contact with you. He’s leaning against the closet that is directly across the small hallway from the bathroom door. He pushes off the frame of the closet to stand in the doorframe and gently pushes it open. You let him, his frame standing over you, he’s taller than you but not enough to tower over you fully.

“You ready to hear my sob story now? I promised I would when you told me yours last night.” he smiled.

“Did I really?” you groan “Forget I said anything please.”

“Never, I stand by my statement last night that no matter how pretty this new girl is that you are 100 times prettier than her in every aspect.”

“Y-you didn’t say that…” you blush

“I did. Now, join me back in bed so you can hear my sob story, okay?” he offers a hand.

“Okay,” you respond following him back to the main area, “you know, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, it’s only fair.” he sits down patting the space beside him.

You sit beside him ready to listen and take in what he tells you. This time leaving a respectable distance between you two, unlike last night.

“So, it’s not much different from yours, I mean, kind of but, yeah, ahh I’m rambling.” he airily laughs scratching the back of his head “I’ve lived here all my life as you know. I always had friends come and go throughout the year, Yeji was my only constant and she got annoying during her teenage years so I tried to branch out. That’s when I met him, his name was Doyoung. He was a lot like Dejun was to you at first. He treated me like a prince, I had never had someone treat me like that ever. He never hid anything from me, he spoiled me, he was sarcastic as all hell just like me. It was like we were made for each other. And unlike you, I can admit that dick was bomb.”

“I would never deny that no matter how much he hurt me.” “Well you did honey, anyway, we wanted different things. That didn’t stop us though, we loved each other honestly and openly. We never cared what people thought of us.” he sighed picking at his nail, “After a while, I grew comfortable with him and felt I could be my most honest self, I dressed more eccentrically. Started painting my nails and grew my hair out a bit. I starting drawing more, getting some of my sketches tattooed on my body. He told me he loved that I could be myself with him, that he loved me for me. No one had ever told me that before.” he began to tear up.

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” you grab his hand to stop his picking.

“No, it’s okay, I need to tell someone eventually. He sighed and continued “Doyoung was my world, I was his too. Eventually, though, our differences drove us apart slowly. He knew I wanted to stay here and continue to learn to bartend, he wanted to go to business school abroad. We agreed to try long-distance for a bit, it was hard, he was hundreds of thousands of miles away from me, time zones were opposite. I’d call him late at night here after work and he’d be getting ready for morning classes, or he’d call me late at night after classes and I’d be getting ready to go bartend for the night or just have finished for the night and I was exhausted. We would argue more than we ever had before, some of it was tension in our work and school lives some of it was just missing each other so much. By the end of our third year together we realized we wouldn’t work out together, he was going to be abroad for another two years only being able to visit like twice a year if that. I was so deep into my training here that it made it hard to stay in contact, so we ended things. It hurt, god it hurt, but we both knew it was for the best.”

“God, I’m so sorry Yongqin…” you hug him tightly despite the awkward position it left you in.

“It’s really okay, recently actually, we reconnected, the romantic feelings aren’t there anymore though. He’s one of my closest friends now, we like to keep it like that too, no worry about not seeing each other enough or anything like that.”

You release him from the hug feeling that you got your sentiment across fully. Feeling the need to ask a possibly awkward question you begin to worry on your lower lip. The internal debate as to ask or not killing you inside. As if he again read your mind he spoke.

“If you’re wondering what I identify as I identify as a bi male.” he smiles brightly.

“Thanks for telling me,” you scratch the back of your neck “I didn’t want to make it weird and ask. Anyway, what are you up to for the day?” you ask changing the topic.

“Well, tonight’s my night off so I don’t think I have anything planned. I was thinking of just staying here and watching movies all day.”

“Well that’s boring.” you tease, “How about we go down to the beach together like we used to? That way you get out of here for once and I don’t go to the beach alone.”

“It sounds like you have a deal miss y/n.” he chirps back “Do you still need to find Yeji to get into your room?”

“Why would I- fuck, did I really do that? Did I really forget my key when I went down to the bar last night?” you groan at your own forgetfulness.

“You did,” he laughs at you, “let’s go down there and get the key from her.”

You approach the desk in the lobby where Yeji happily sits waiting for someone to come up to her. Just as you and Yongqin get near to her she turns her head before scanning you up and down trying to pinpoint something.

“Why are you wearing his clothes?” she asks cautiously

“Good morning to you too Yeji.” you sigh, “I left my key in my room so your lovely brother let me stay with him.”

“Not to mention you were drunk off your ass last night too.” he laughs

“That’s irrelevant Yongqin.” you retort

Yeji watches you two banter back and forth before she can interject again “So here’s the master key I assume you want.” she offers “Also you two are hella cute together, I support this fully.”

“Me and him?” you’re shocked, to say the least, “No, no, no, we aren’t together, I just finally had the realization that I spent every summer with you two as kids so we’re just picking up where we left off.” you explain.

“Took you long enough to realize,” Yeji rolls her eyes playfully “And where you two left off was flirting constantly and ignoring my existence. So I expect nothing different than when you were 18 and he was 19.” she states matter of factly.

You two are blushing at her comment, sure you two had bantered flirtatiously when you were younger but nothing that could be considered obvious to others around you, although Yeji has a very different opinion. You take the key from her finally bidding her goodbye and promising to return the key on your way out later.

The two of you stand next to each other awkwardly in the elevator listening to the crappy elevator music. You swayed back and forth from time to time trying to ease the tension in your body. You took notice of him picking at his nails again, it seemed to be one of his nervous habits. You reached over without thinking taking his hand in yours.

“Don’t pick at your nails, it’s bad for you.”

“So is chewing on your lip.” he retorts playfully “If you wanted to hold my hand you could’ve just asked silly.” he flirts lightening the mood.

“What can I say? You have pretty hands, and they’re soft too.” you flirt back winking at him, “Did we really flirt that much when we were younger?”

“Uh, yeah, I had a huge crush on you. You were just too oblivious to take my flirting seriously.” he chuckles.

“Well how about now? Still crushing on be Qinqin?” you playfully tease.

“And what if I do?” he flirts again, “What’s the worst that can happen? You kiss me?”

You awkwardly giggle and blush a furious shade of red just as the door of the elevator open. You release his had mumbling that you’re going to get ready and you’ll meet him in the lobby. You quickly unlock the door to your room and press your back against the door.

“Fuck,” you breathe “I can not be falling this easily again. I knew what’ll happen if I do… but it feels so right this time.”

Spending your time together at the beach felt so comfortable, you had almost forgotten about your freak-out moment in the elevator.

Keyword: almost

The entire time you were there you kept thinking about what he had said. Did he really mean that? Did he actually like you like that? Or was he just playfully flirting? Even with the two of you splashing through the water together as if you were kids again the question still lingered in the back of your mind. It didn’t help when he had picked you up from behind spinning you around at the water’s edge, nor when the older couple walked past you and the woman commented how she missed those days with her husband.

As you walked back to the hotel laughing all the while you felt that question come back to the forefront of your mind. You wanted so badly to push it away again and enjoy your rekindled friendship, but there was no way you could avoid it any longer. You go quiet as you continue your walk, this of course didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Why so quiet all of a sudden? Something on your mind?” he worries

“I guess you could say that.” you sigh.

“Tell me, there’s nothing you can’t tell me. I’ll always listen.” he stops sitting at a nearby bench urging you to sit too.

“Promise? Even if it might ruin the friendship we have?”

“Nothing could ruin us.” he assures you.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” he chuckles nervously

“What you said in the elevator about liking me, did you mean it?” you start chewing on your lip.

“God, you’re as dense as you were when we were teenagers.”

Before you can even ask what he means his lips are pressed against yours. Despite your shock, you reciprocate it melting into him. Just as quickly as his lips were there, they were gone.

“Of course I meant it.” his voice dripping with sincerity, “I might even say that I love you. Don’t get me wrong I absolutely loved Doyoung, I still do platonically, but fuck, being with you feels just as right. If not more right than it did with him.”

“Yongqin, you do know I just broke up with Dejun just over two months ago right? Do you know how vulnerable I am right now?”

“Of course I do, if you think right now isn’t the right time for us I totally understand. I just want you to know that I’ll wait for you.”

“Yongqin, being with you feels so fucking right, it scares me a little. Nothing’s ever felt so right for me. I fell so hard without realizing it. I’m scared to take that shot, he fucked me up, and I don’t know how to react anymore.” you explain

“Believe me I know how hard it is to take that shot, but I’ll never hurt you, I’ll never abandon you. I won’t do anything besides love you, y/n. I always have. I always will. Plus, with me, you’ll get that one more shot you were asking for the other night.” he smirks.

“I don’t think I’ll drink ever again after how bad that hangover was.” you giggle

“But what if I need you to try a new drink concoction?” he pouts.

“Okay, maybe I’ll help with that.” you giggle again pressing a kiss into his lips.

“So I’ll take that as a yes? You’ll take the shot?” he hopes

You nod and he quickly sweeps you off your feet hugging you and spinning in circles. After he places you back on the ground he cups your face bringing you into the most loving kiss you’ve ever felt in your life.

“Thank you.” is all he said before smiling against your lips again.

“Anything for you.” you smile back.

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jamie-leah · 3 years

Text

War of Wolves (14)

Season 1

Episode 14 - Behind Enemy Lines

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 1805

Warnings: Swearing, aggression, violence

A/N: Another part for you, feeling rough going into the holiday season so this is for anyone not feeling quite like themselves. I hope you do soon. I also welcome nagging for the next parts because I will forget. Enjoy Lovelies.

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist. Series Masterlist Oneshot Masterlist

Steve and Peggy come home a few hours later, just as the movie you and Bucky were watching was over. You can hear them giggling about something and you look at Bucky with a smile.

They walk into the living room, Peggy rubbing her stomach and Steve’s arm around her waist. You give them a bright smile, “did you guys have fun?”.

Peggy nods, “yes, thank you so much for offering to babysit while we went on a date”.

You wave her off, “it’s no problem, the kids were great. Just let us know when you want to do it again”. You all say your farewells as you and Bucky leave and get into the car.

On the drive back you play with Bucky’s fingers as you say, “can I go shopping tomorrow? In the city?”.

Bucky looks over at you before looking back at the road, “of course Doll, you don’t have to ask me for permission, just tell me you’re going so I know where you are and safe”.

You nod, “I know. Its just, I don’t know how to get there because I can’t-well I don’t want to drive”.

Bucky is lost in thought before asking, “you wanna go tomorrow?”, you nod as he carries on, “okay, I’ll sort something out for you baby-doll”. He smiles at you and you kiss his hand in thanks.

You wake up the next day to another note on the pillow next to you: Morning Doll, come to the office when you’re awake and ready to go shopping. I love you, B.

You smile at the last words as butterflies flutter in your stomach and chest. You get dressed and skip down the stairs and make your way to his office.

You don’t knock as you walk in to see Sam and Steve at the desk with Bucky and another man you can’t see who it is from behind.

They stop talking as you get closer and the guy turns around. It takes you a minute but when you realise who it is you smile and hug him. You pull back to him giving you a smile too, “Ray! I can’t believe its you!”.

Ray used to be your handler when you were a homeless informant. You both got on quite well and you wondered now and then if you would ever see him again. He chuckles, “hi Y/N”.

You look at Bucky and then back at Ray, “what are you doing here?”.

Bucky answers for Ray, “I thought that he could drive you into the city and keep an eye on you for me, since I have to stay here and sort out this problem”.

You smile at him and then at Ray, “thank you Ray. Is it okay if you bring the car around and I’ll join you in a sec?”.

He nods and heads out of the office. You turn to Bucky, “thank you”. You lean over the desk and give him a kiss.

He smiles which turns into a smirk as you say, “can I have some money for shopping?”.

He reaches a hand inside his suit jacket and pulls out a card holding it out for you. You just stare at it for a while before he waves it, “its yours. Keep it, there’s plenty of money in there”.

You take it slowly, “do I even want to know how much is in there?”.

He laughs, “just don’t go buying a mansion and I think you’ll be fine”.

You kiss him again and whisper, “I love you”.

You see a blush creep into his cheeks slightly as he fights a smile. Before you pull away completely he whispers, “I love you too”.

You catch up with Ray on the drive to the city which distracts you from the anxiety of being in the car. It goes by quickly and before you know it Ray is parking up and you’re getting out of the car.

You both grab some food first after the long drive and catch up further and then Ray follows you as you pick which shops to go in. You were shopping in the men’s section of a shop which prompted Ray’s next question, “so, you and Bucky huh?”.

You smile at him, “trust me, I did not plan on it happening”.

You were searching for his size on the rack for a red Henley shirt when Ray says, “I think you guys suit each other”.

You laugh, “yeah, a homeless girl and a mob boss”.

He goes serious for a second, “he was homeless too at some point in his life”.

You look over to Ray surprised, “I didn’t know that”.

Ray nods like he understands why he wouldn’t tell you, “he doesn’t like talking about it. I only know because some of the boys who worked under the old boss knew about it and told me”.

You think about it for a while as you pick up a range of Henley shirts and jeans for him. It does make sense that he makes use of homeless informants. He would know how useful they were for spying and you understand why he didn’t tell you, since you weren’t thrilled telling people you were homeless either.

You and Ray talk as you pick up a few more things. You go into a kid shop thinking about Sarah and Joseph as you ask Ray, “are you married Ray?”.

He chuckles, “no, I’m not. I have a girlfriend though…we haven’t told anyone yet, but we found out last week that she’s pregnant”.

You look at him with shock and happiness, “oh wow! Congratulations Ray! That’s wonderful. Well, if you see anything here you want to get-“.

He waves you off, “oh no, I couldn’t”.

You shake your head, “honestly Ray, its nothing. If you see something, tell me and I’m getting it”. He gives you a grateful smile as you look at new born clothes with him.

You were laughing with him about what one t-shirt said until shadows fall across the two of you. You glance behind you and stiffen. It was Isaac Williams being trailed by two rather big looking guys.

He smiles at you, not even acknowledging Ray, “expecting, are you?”.

You put the baby shirt back, “no”.

He keeps his creepy smile, “then why were you looking at baby clothes?”.

“It’s not really any of your business”, you keep your words clipped. You’re finding it harder to be civil with him after finding out what he did to those men.

You can feel Ray get slightly closer to you as Isaac loses the fake kindness in his smile, “that was rude Y/N. I was only asking you a question”.

You narrow your eyes at him, “and what exactly are you doing here?”.

“I had business to attend to”, he keeps it vague on purpose.

You don’t let up, “in a kid store?”.

He chuckles, “elsewhere. But I saw you coming in and couldn’t help myself”.

You grab Ray’s arm and look at Isaac, “well, as fun as this was, we need to get going”.

Isaac slides smoothly, blocking your escape, “I would like to invite you to carry on this conversation back at one of my estates”.

Alarm bells start ringing loudly in your head and you have to fight the urge to reach for your phone and speed dial Bucky, “like I said, me and my friend have somewhere else to be”.

Isaac laughs, “oh silly me, its my fault. I guess invitation implies that I’m giving you a choice”.

Your heart races as you stare at him. You feel Ray move and so do Isaac’s guys. They reach behind them like they’re about to pull a weapon, so Ray stops.

Isaac tuts, “now now, let’s not make this difficult. I just want to get to know you better Y/N, without Bucky around”.

Anger spikes in you, “well I don’t want to get to know you better. So, I’ll pass”.

You stare at each other for a few minutes and you barely register the flick of his fingers before one of his guys punches Ray in the face. Ray ends up on the floor from the surprise attack as the same guy kicks him.

You start to go to Ray when Isaac yanks you back. Another kick lands into Ray and you look around the shop to find it pretty much empty and no one looking. You can’t risk calling for help and others getting hurt.

You turn to him, venom in your eyes, “stop it. Leave Ray and I’ll come with you”. When he lets you go, his guy backs away from Ray. You go over to Ray and check him over. You see he’s bleeding from his lip as he coughs from the kicks.

He whispers, “don’t go with him for me”.

You take a tissue out of your pocket and dab at his lip, “its fine Ray, we don’t really have many other choices, do we? Just ring Bucky and tell him it was Isaac Williams”.

That’s all you get to say to each other as Isaac clears his throat, “let’s go before we make a scene. Nice meeting you Ray”.

You lay a hand on Ray’s shoulder before getting up and walking with Isaac out the store. You’re silent when you get into the car. Isaac gets in the back with you.

It wasn’t long into the ride when Isaac turns to you, “give me your phone”.

You don’t even look at him when you ask, “why?”.

He sighs, “because I’ve told you to”.

You laugh before saying, “what’s the point in giving you my phone when you and I both know that Ray is calling Bucky right now”.

You hear annoyance seeping into his voice, “yes, I’m well aware of that. I just don’t want you getting any ideas of recording our conversations or letting Bucky listen to it”.

You feel your stomach knot as you carry on defying him. You know you should just do what he asks, but you’re stubborn and it makes you even more sick complying with him. So, you stare straight ahead and ignore him.

His hand whips out and grabs your arm hard. You feel his fingers dig in as you turn to look at him. His expression is dark as he yanks on your arm pulling your body closer in the car. His voice is low when he speaks again, “give me your phone”.

You give him a disgusted look as you use your other hand to reach in your pocket and pull out your phone. He snatches it off you and pushes you away from him, “see? That wasn’t so hard was it?”.

You just scoot into the corner of the car and look out the window, fighting the urge to be sick.

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relenafanel · 4 years

Text

Squats For Thots - Geralt/Jaskier | PG-13.

This is mostly one long dick joke I wrote as an excuse to use “Squats for Thots” as a title. It’s also mostly foolish men with crushes objectifying each other’s asses. #whoops.

“The Countess likes her men a little more thicc, you know?” Jaskier said, burning through the starting set Geralt had given him surprisingly well. Well enough that he continued talking, though Geralt wasn’t sure the man ever stopped. “Likes something to hold on to.”

Most of the men Geralt saw at the private club thought targeted exercises were a quick way to improve what they considered to be small problem areas, like there was a cheat sheet to looking like a Hemsworth that wasn’t partially genes. Most of them thought they were a personal trainer away from movie-star abs, and Geralt wasn’t there to disabuse them of the notion.

“I figured,” Jaskier continued, breathing through his final 20, “if I found the trainer with the best ass in the place they’d be the person to show me how to turn this slab into fab.”

“Do you ride?” Geralt asked, making a note to make Thursday’s session more intense.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said, finally sounding out of breath. He batted his eyelashes and Geralt also made a note to recommend the man invest in a sweatband if it was going to make him blink like that, especially since Jaskier didn’t seem to be perspiring hard yet.

“How many times a week and for how long?”

Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked flustered and then flummoxed, though Geralt pretended he didn’t notice since he couldn’t figure out why. Then Jaskier laughed. “Ohh, you mean a horse,” he said. “Not often, not since adolescence, though I can still manage a decent seat when needed. Why? Should it be part of my training? I can’t say I’ve noticed all equestrians have a juicy booty but I don’t know if I’ve been looking for the trend.”

“Hm,” Geralt answered, aware it wasn’t an answer at all. “My job today is determining your limits.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier agreed, probably because they’d already been over this before starting. There was also that flirtatious lilt to it that Geralt was realizing he should have been able to identify from the start.

Fuck.

Jaskier was one of those people who stopped by the club a few times a month and spent more time off to the side drinking smoothies and watching the people around him than he did exercising. It was a surprise he was able to keep up with the exercises Geralt had designed to easily break him. “Your lower body is better developed than I assumed.”

“Thank you for the compliment, even though I think what you really mean is you assumed my fitness level is the same as a 3 year coma patient and tested me accordingly. I don’t think I’m even insulted by that. Though we could have saved some wasted time if you’d ever seen me naked.”

Geralt leveled him with an unimpressed expression designed to ask ‘why would I want to do that?’

Jaskier flushed but didn’t look particularly embarrassed or emasculated, which was maybe the first thing he’d done in his favour. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “why does anyone?”

****

“I hear you’ve taken on the Viscount de Lettenhove as a client,” Lambert said, looking far too relaxed against the bar.

Geralt shrugged. He had six new clients since the last time he’d spoken with Lambert and the name didn’t sound familiar.

“Lord Julian?” Lambert continued. “Has a reputation for being very generous in bed, both generally and -“ he made a vague gesture to his dick. “A good third of the people at the club have either already had sex with him, want to have sex with him, or a combination of both. During your session last week, Rodgie said Lettenhove fucked him so well he thought he was gay for another three months, like he’d gone temporarily blind to the charms of women it was so good.”

Geralt scowled.

“I’m just repeating what he said. Don’t pretend you’re beyond gossiping about this.”

“I can’t place the name,” he admitted instead of answering that. Beyond gossip? Apparently not. Seeking it out? No. Especially about someone referred to as Lord Julian.

“Really? Tall-ish. Handsome-ish. Good with his hands. Treadmill squad can’t seem to take their eyes off him. Was in on Thursday.”

New client. Thursday. “Jaskier?”

“Yes,” Lambert agreed with a snap of his fingers. “That’s the name he uses. Rich people, eh?”

Jaskier?

Lambert shook his head. “I can’t tell if you just don’t notice people or if you genuinely aren’t into dick, sometimes.”

****

Geralt was into dick.

Sometimes.

****

He noticed.

Not anything different about Jaskier. The man still talked his way through whatever exercises Geralt threw at him, far too flirtatious for comfort, and never really seemed to notice that he was being openly appraised by almost every single person on exercise machines.

But Geralt did.

****

It wasn’t that Geralt noticed Jaskier, it was just that Jaskier was standing at the smoothie bar on a day they weren’t scheduled to work together and he noticed the incongruity of seeing Jaskier on a Friday morning.

Wearing shorts.

It wasn’t really the shorts that kept his attention, it was the same thing about Jaskier that he’d noticed from the first moment they’d started working together - Jaskier’s damn legs and those calves that told of a less sedentary lifestyle than Jaskier pretended. Geralt didn’t understand why someone would stop by the gym in a health club only to lounge around doing nothing if they obviously spent a lot of time working out their legs (at least).

It took him a bit longer than it should have to realize he was gawking just as badly as Jaskier’s damn treadmill fanclub. He turned his back and pretended he was very interested in something else. Anything else.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, handing Geralt the second smoothie in his hands. Geralt was sure the person overdoing it on the rowing machine wilted in jealousy. “Are you in a session?”

“Technically,” Geralt said and took a sip of the smoothie. It tasted like summer.

Jaskier grinned at him. “No show?”

“Sauna.”

“That’s an option?” Jaskier asked, but looked more amused than anything. “And here I’ve been exercising like a chump”

“It’s an option.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t leave you out here fully clothed. Seems like a waste.” He grinned at Geralt, sly in a way that included Geralt in the joke. “Maybe you could advise me on the best ways to steam it up.”

“It’s an option,” Geralt repeated.

“I…” Jaskier started to say and then closed his mouth. “Really?”

“But if you do, you won’t make any progress.”

“In my butt or with you?” he blurted out. “And yes, I can hear that sentence is one finished thought away from a dirty joke but I’m going to be the bigger man here.”

Geralt seriously doubted that.

“Oh my god. Are you one finished thought from making that into a dick joke?” Jaskier looked delighted. “Yass, Geralt.”

The sauna door opened, and Geralt prepared himself to finish the last five minutes of the hour, which consisted of making sure his client was hydrated before sending him on his way, rather than continuing this conversation with Jaskier.

“Wait,” Jaskier said, with a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Is there something I can make progress on?”

Geralt shrugged. There wasn’t NOT something, which he knew wasn’t an answer either.

“Ok, so, that’s not a no. I acknowledge it’s not a yes, but it’s also not a no, and you’re not someone who has trouble with the word no. So.” Jaskier waved his hand, spraying smoothie from the top of his straw. “That’s cool.”

That’s cool, Geralt repeated in his head as he walked away. He probably should have said no just to save himself the pain of hearing that’s cool.

****

“There’s a rumour you’re about to get laid,” Lambert said on their bi-weekly meet up for beer.

“That’s cool,” Geralt said with a shrug.

Which, honestly, was worth it just for the look on Lambert’s face.

****

“Ok,” Jaskier said on Monday, which also wasn’t one of their scheduled meetings. He showed up like some kind of annoyance mirage wearing a brightly coloured shirt and shoes meant for lounging. Geralt was in the middle of helping the Earl of Something’s second son work off his weekend bender. The man had run off to puke twice already and Jaskier’s shirt wasn’t helping any. Neither was the way Jaskier snapped his fingers in front of his clammy face. “Off you go, you’re looking a little peaked.”

“Thank you!”

Jaskier rolled a yoga ball over with his foot and perched on it, crossing his legs. It occurred to Geralt that Jaskier was like a male peacock posturing, with his vibrant clothes and stupid pose. It also occurred to Geralt that he shouldn’t be into it. “We should go out for coffee and stuff.”

“Fine.”

“What?” Jaskier said, losing his balance and almost falling on the floor.

“Coffee and stuff. Fine. Let’s go out.”

“I…” Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. “Expected more of an argument and to maybe leave disappointed.”

Geralt shrugged. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” Jaskier threw up his hands and then stood. His movements had an ease to them that they wouldn’t if he didn’t fucking exercise somewhere. Geralt was going to figure it out because he was pretty sure if he asked anyone they’d say it was from sex and life didn’t work that way. “Because you asked me if I ride and meant a horse!”

“You stop by the smoothie bar, grab a lounge chair for a few hours, and take a nap whenever you come in. Something needed to account for your legs.”

Jaskier started laughing.

“Don’t say it,” Geralt told him with annoyance.

“You noticed,” Jaskier stressed.

****

“I hate that I know why you look so relaxed,” Lambert grumbled.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier

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dgcatanisiri · 3 years

Text

So... something kinda hit me abruptly and pushed me to feeling about ready to snap, so... Have a word vomit. Kinda feels like a greatest hits compilation of my “another angry queer rant” tag, but I need to get it out, so...

I know I’ve been over plenty about how I don’t feel represented even when I have something with gay representation. How I’d give dozens of Dorians and Iron Bulls to get even one run of Inquisition that properly has my male Inquisitor romance Cullen. How when I look at Mass Effect - this franchise that I love - I can only see how much it hates me for being a gay man who dares to seek content for me. How godawful it is that Gil’s story, a story that is explicitly a story centered on a gay man and the difficulties he faces BECAUSE of being gay, was written by a straight person who ABSOLUTELY does not GET. IT. And how fandom as an entity sucks, because so often it feels like the attitude of the people in it comes across as telling me that my desire to be represented in my media somehow comes in second to celebrating the advances solely for women, that my needs as a queer MAN (the emphasis usually theirs) are less important, because I can still see myself AS A MAN in other characters throughout media.

But... That doesn’t change the fact that this is a very real, very tangible THING for me to grapple with. And sometimes it feels like no one ever, EVER talks about this.

I mean, my go-to example is that after Inquisition dropped, you could not say A WORD in criticism of Dorian without people jumping down your throat, chomping at the bit to call you a homophobe for it. No matter what reason - but ESPECIALLY if you thought he was “too stereotypical” - you got hit with that label. Even if you were gay yourself, it was just your “internalized homophobia” that made you dislike him, or even being biased against the people who genuinely do lean in to the stereotypes, don’t they deserve representation too?!

Well, yeah. It’s not like I was saying they don’t. But that it’s a stereotype means it’s often still in media, still often THERE. It’s not always good representation, but it’s something. Meanwhile for those of us who AREN’T? It just meant further exclusion from the narratives. A continuation of our invisibility.

And sure, one queer character cannot represent every queer person, one individual who embodies one letter of the alphabet soup cannot be everything to everyone under that individual label. But, again, it still means that I don’t get to see myself.

If media representation is a life preserver, then I’m getting pulled out to sea while the lifeguards are busy with people who are closer to them than I am. Which, you can call it triage, cast the widest net to hope to get the most people, but when you’re one of those who are not even able to grab on to the net and use it to pull yourself closer, it’s not helping. And, because they’re focused on those who have grabbed on to the net, your struggle continues to be ignored.

Worse, sometimes they aren’t factoring you in the net they’re throwing (yes, I’m aware my metaphor is getting increasingly strained, just work with me here) because they think you’re not in the trouble they think others are - if you can “pass” as cishet, if you can exist without actively fearing for your safety, if you are the kind of person who can walk down the street and not expect to be harassed because you “present” gay, then you’re not as in need as those people who can’t, who are going to be threatened for existing while visibly queer.

But the truth is that you’re still suffering. I’m not gonna get in to the whole oppression Olympics nature of it all, but there is an element that those of us who “pass” as being “straight-acting” (and, for the record, I think these terms are bogus and bullshit, but I’m using them for the sake of simplicity in getting my message across, because I’m stream of consciousnessing this post instead of going to bed so you’re getting babble and word vomit so that this isn’t playing on a loop as I try and sleep) suffer that... I’m not going to say that it makes it worse, but it does have this level of SOMETHING that is a unique pain that you aren’t going to find from the people who are visibly and noticeably queer at a glance - it’s not just isolation, because this is something that you end up not talking about because no one around you realizes that you are queer, but also this voice in the back of your mind that starts questioning “are you REALLY queer? Are you queer ENOUGH?”

And that’s why it hurts that little bit more, is that much more a twist of the knife, when I see these people who push the “joke” of like “why did they even HAVE male Shepard?” or “the only way to play is as Kassandra.” Because it does reinforce this idea - that there is this attitude of this thing, this character that I was seeing as representation doesn’t matter. So that I take strength in that character, well, that’s just me latching on to REPRESENTATION AS A MAN, and we’re not here to protect your fragile masculine ego.

When all I’m looking for is a queer man like I am.

And sometimes, I don’t even feel like the other queer men I can look to get it. Like, there was that time about a year ago that I looked up issues of queer men in video games, and the three videos I found all got an “...and NOPE!” reaction from me - the first argued in math about how “queer people are a small portion of the population, we can’t realistically expect to be represented equally,” even though we’re talking about FICTION, which is, by definition, NOT reality, the second was clearly a cishet who compared not being represented as a queer person to not being represented as a Swedish person, and then a third who first had a thumbnail on a video of “good and bad representation” and Kaidan was the example of bad (so a negative mark against this video to begin with, but I was desperate), only to lead with Dorian as a good example, which... *vague motion above and at the “dorian critical” tag* I staunchly disagree with this stance.

Like... I have to struggle to think of who my role models in being a queer man are. It’s not just who fits my story, but who do I look up to, who inspires me. And, admittedly, the luster for any personal hero seems to inevitable wear off at this point, I’m in my early thirties, and most of the media I consume will have characters who are my age or younger PERIOD, so my queer heroes would have to be people I’d consider either peers or even someone who I am older than...

But then, that’s kinda the thing about being queer period - we lost a generation to AIDS, and for those who followed that generation, we’ve had to live in this world where our heroes don’t exist like us, while trying to pave the way for those who come after us, and who can’t conceive of what it is like to age - as in “go from adulthood to middle age to elder,” not just the matter of growing up from childhood to adulthood - and so even as they’re the one who we want to give all of this to... It still means we suffer because no one is there to offer US that hand.

And yet, try to explain this to media creators, and you get ignored or even shut down. Like, I about a year ago, I directly replied to tweet from Patrick Weekes, explaining how Inquisition failed me, how all bi LIs actually HELP me feel more represented as a queer person than the mix of sexualities that BioWare on the whole has said that they intend to do (re: the difference of LIs in DA2 and Dragon Age Inquisition). It got no response, not even a like to indicate that it’d been read by them. I could form in my head the response I’d have inevitably gotten from David Gaider when he still had an active Tumblr of what would amount to, nicest, “we cannot please everyone, enough people were moved by Dorian’s story to make it worthwhile, sorry.” Given some of my cynicism, I can’t help but believe that it would also have come with a “sorry you feel that way.” Particularly considering some of the comments he’s made about Cullen and Kaidan as LIs, both of whom being characters I connect to more than others in their respective games...

And like... Gaider is a gay man. Weekes is nonbinary. But they are from that generation who view being able to exist openly as queer as a revolutionary statement, which... It’s a statement I want to make, sure, but it’s not a revolutionary one to me - “existence” is the bare minimum. To me, focusing on existence as a queer person is to say that the queer character must justify existing as queer in order to be a part of the narrative. But what is revolutionary to me is to give the queer person a story in the narrative that has NOTHING to do with their queerness.

Like... Fantasy world here, Inquisition drops with Cullen and Cassandra as same-sex exclusive LIs, while every other aspect of their stories are the same. Women can’t romance Cullen, Men can’t romance Cassandra. Other than that, we have Cullen with his addiction/redemption arc and Cassandra not just struggling with her faith but even getting the chance to be Divine. Yes, fandom would FLIP. THE FUCK. OUT. But here’s what it says - the things that these characters go through in the course of the game are not defined by their sexuality. Hell, with these characters specifically, you get characters with MASSIVE relevance to queer stories that AREN’T exclusive to being queer - addiction is a real issue in queer communities, given how many of our safe spaces are bars or clubs, places where alcohol (and thus alcohol abuse) is easily obtained, and, by extension, drugs as well. Meanwhile, there are SCORES of queer people who struggle with the question of faith in the wake of their queerness manifesting.

THAT is revolutionary. To take these stories that straight people get all the time, that certainly have meaning as queer stories for the queer audience... And yet, when they go to these (hypothetically) queer characters, it has that subtext without making the story ABOUT their queerness, while still making it clear that, in this version of things, they are queer - players couldn’t pretend that it’s only in some parallel universe that they are queer, they would only be attracted to the same sex PC. THAT is revolutionary.

Or, y’know, take it back beyond BioWare for a little bit here - all the characters I feel the most connection to emotionally in TV shows are straight. All these men who are my role models only ever get shown being involved with women. At most, they’ll get queerbaited as MAYBE being queer, if you just keep watching! Inevitably, of course, they are not queer by the end of the show - the closest to date is the debacle that is Supernatural.

Yeah, there’s representation for ya.

And then there are those who end up looking at what I see as thoroughly inadequate and... They’re happy. They praise it. They look at this thing that hurts me, that excludes me, that can, when I’m in the bad headspaces, even make me question myself... And they have found something they like with it.

Which, for the record, good for them, genuinely and sincerely, I really am glad that someone is getting something out of this, but... Well, see above: life preserver, isolation, “sorry you feel that way.” Everyone else is getting what they needed, but what about me? When does my representation get to appear? Why am I always being left, scrounging for the scraps of the scraps? Why does other peoples’ representation always seem to get shoved to the front of the line, leaving me languishing in the back.

That’s the real thing about all of those lines of “if you don’t like it, go make your own!” At this point, even if I did manage to get something in my to-write folder cleaned up and ready to go, in reality... How am I supposed to feel like anyone other than me WOULD proceed to read it? That the audience would exist? Because... no one seems to care about this audience. Hell, how would I get anyone to publish it if it is only going to appeal to me?

I feel on the margins of the margins, where no one really cares. Hell, even here in my own blog, I feel afraid of backlash - I’ve had the assholes show up in response to like little brief comments that are off-the-cuff rambles, not worded in a way that makes them a full, detailed accounting, and either take them as evidence that I, personally, represent all that is wrong with fandom at large, or that I am a target for their trolling. Because saying that “I find the jokes about male Shepard not mattering to be diminishing of me as a queer person, can we please stop this?” is somehow not just lesbophobic, but VIOLENTLY lesbophobic. Or that saying that I don’t care that bad things happen to a fictional species is somehow advocating for violence against actual women. Or even explicitly calling out BioWare for lovingly lingering the camera on Miranda’s ass is slutshaming her. And of course, there are the assholes who responded to me saying on the BioWare Twitter announcement post for the Legendary Edition that, if it didn’t have a full trilogy male Shepard/Kaidan romance, I wasn’t buying it, and proceeded to a) call me entitled for it (like, read a dictionary, the very fact that I have to call for this content that doesn’t exist in the game proper is the OPPOSITE of entitlement...), b) tell me that I “shouldn’t deny [myself] a great story just because it doesn’t have gay people in it” and c) just generally be homophobic. Even in rolling with it on the basis of “the trolls are gonna show up period if you make it clear that you care about something, especially if you are trying to get representation for some group that is in the minority... It gets exhausting. It can be harmful. It makes it clear that you’re not welcome, even when you’re supposedly united by the fact that you and these people supposedly love the same piece of media.

I mean, among those examples, I’ve given the statements that inspired those responses no tags other than my own organizational tags, but SOMEHOW they find me anyway, so it wouldn’t surprise me if I got accused of like being another White Gay™ with this post, that I simply want to center the conversation wholly on myself at the expense of all other intersections of queerness and other identities or something for saying all of this, even though this is, and it says so from the start, a vent post, which, by definition, is centered on myself because it’s about me and my experiences and emotions. *sigh*

Anyway...

And, y’know, when BioWare actively refuses to even ACKNOWLEDGE that the absence of a full trilogy M/M romance option is a bad thing, it just ends up saying that the trolls are actually the audience they’re willing to court. That Supernatural ending with a brothers only focus that doesn’t even allow Cas to be mentioned other than offhandedly while suppressing ANY kind of emotional fallout to his admission of love says that they don’t care about the queer people who at the very least the actor was trying to be respectful and representative of. That every piece of media that says that to have a queer person in it, their presence must be explained and justified is saying that there needs to be a REASON for queerness, a reason that is not “because people are queer, and queer people come in as many stripes as cishet people, and so media should reflect that spectrum just as much.”

Even when the numbers of queer characters in media goes up, it doesn’t really move the needle. And that’s not even getting to the difficulties when you are any mix-and-match combo under the queer umbrella, or any other identity that intersects to marginalize someone in our society. It just...

Y’know, it doesn’t feel like “it gets better.” Rather it just feels like being stuck in position, just with a changing backdrop. Sure, things look different by the end of the day, but that doesn’t change that you’re not getting anywhere.

#dg gets personal #another angry queer rant

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begrudginglytumbling · 3 years

Text

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Part Three!

...or I suppose technically it’s part two of Part Two since this one will finish up what the other one started.

Shall we return to Grow Up?

(This’ll be long even though I managed to be a little ruthless and cut some of the images.)

We’ll start with the staffroom and finish with the dorm rooms.

I am only assuming it’s a staffroom. For all I know it could be some kind of common room. But they spend a damned lot of time there. They eat. They hangout. They study. And it’s not just the students, so I’m calling it a staffroom.

Anyway! This breakfast bar thing props up a fair amount of leaning, from general side leans.

To the favoured elbow hook lean.

What I find funny about this particular surface is that Bai Yu’s legs are so long that he actually can’t sit ‘properly’ at it. If he sits straight, then he has to lean forward, since his knees are knocking into it. And when he does sit close (his feet aren’t on the floor, since he’s on a stool, so he can sit properly), he has to spread his legs in some form of obscene manspreading fashion that made me cackle and that I apparently managed to not get a screenshot of (and annoyingly I can’t remember which episode it was in).

Right then, on to the table.

Literally.

On to the table.

Because, clearly, Bai Yu can’t resist sitting on a tabletop.

I made a post about it a while ago, but I’m still not over it so, just as a quick break from the sitting - that outfit is certainly a choice of the wardrobe department.

I mean just look at it, with it’s mustard trousers paired with that top, and a lime green tie. It’s like someone threw the 70s at him or something and went with whatever stuck. I feel like it shouldn’t work. But why does it? Is it a Bai Yu thing?

I mean I know he can pull off some slightly questionable fashion choices - that denim on denim look he has as Zhao Yunlan is something I’d normally say isn’t a good idea, but he looks damn good in it. There is also the jacket with the buttons on the back that I’m still questioning to this day. And the time they apparently rolled him in glitter. And, ok, I happily admit that I don’t tend to understand fashion, and I understand even less of Chinese fashion, but, just, how did this choice come about? Pretty much everyone else in this show seems to wear ‘normal’ sedate clothes. Then there’s this guy. With his bright colours, his polka dots on polka dots, and his cravats. Honestly, mixing his outfit choices with his sitting preferences and relationships, I’m becoming convinced that this is just another example of Bai Yu giving his character Disaster Bi energy. The dude ain’t straight, and the dude ain’t gay. I’d say this dude is a Certified Disaster Bi.

Ok, back to the table and Bai Yu’s leaning back in an almost draw-me-like-one-of-your-French-girls manner.

And, like, there is a chair right there.

But nope.

The unpadded table is apparently more appealing for this man’s relatively flat arse than the padded chair that is right there.

I mean, yeah, he makes an appealing picture that’s visually different from everything else going on, but that does not negate the fact he ignored the empty chair that’s right next to him in favour of draping himself over the table.

And look, he can sit at the table as opposed to on it. There’s quite a few instances where he’s sitting at the table in a chair like a proper person. Granted, in pretty much every instance he’s sitting with his legs crossed, because god forbid he have both feet touching the floor.

But of course this table also sees moments where he’s doing something different to the others. Like here. Everyone is standing, he’s sitting.

I think he’s sulking a bit in this one, but still. Different position, different aura, still not supporting his own meagre weight.

And here with his gay little scout-esque neckerchief/scarf thing, leaning back, not sitting properly.

He does this lean back on the sofa too.

The shot is only a couple of seconds long, then he’s standing up, just like in Part Two, where he’s the only one sitting when the Teacher Doctor guy opens the door, and I touched on this a little in the previous part. But I’m really starting to think it might be a deliberate thing that’s quite clever in drawing the eye.

I should probably preface this with saying I know basically nothing about the processes that go into acting and film making. I am however technically a historian by degree and, therefore, fully capable of pulling theories out of my arse which I will then scrabble around to find sources to back them up.

So! The theory is that movement naturally draws the human eye, and if everyone is the same then a scene can fall flat. Sameness is boring, your eyes can flit over it and not take in any details.

Bai Yu?

Bai Yu is a fidget (seriously go watch his livestream videos, he fidgets, fiddles, and wriggles), this movement can be used to his advantage in drawing the eye. That scene up there? He’s not just leaning back, he’s also shifting about. He’s not in focus, but you can be damned sure that movement made my eyes focus on him before I even knew it was him.

And for combating the sameness? Look at the examples above - he’s lounging on the table, different posture to everyone else - he’s sitting while everyone else is standing - in the previous part he’s standing while everyone else is sitting. I thought at first my eyes were drawn because it’s Bai Yu and, well, he’s a favourite of mine so why wouldn’t my eyes be drawn. But then I realised they would’ve been, regardless, because he’s different. He breaks up the sameness, he stops it being flat. It reminded me of a scene in Pride and Prejudice, where the Bennett girls turn one way, but Mrs. Bennett turns the other. I remember watching or reading a commentary about it, the move being praised. I don’t remember exactly what was said, just that it was praised for being different and adding something to the scene, and it made me wonder if Bai Yu makes similar decisions?

Ok, onto the seating area proper.

He was actually sitting on an armchair properly before this, with both feet on the floor and everything...he looked so uncomfortable. Then he moved to sit on the arm of the sofa, because of course he did.

Y’know, pillows get hugged a lot in this programme, mainly by Bai Yu, but by others too sometimes.

And why sit normally when there’s a perfectly good coffee table in front of you to rest your foot on and make some viewers wince because why is your ankle bending that way? How is that even comfortable?

Just look at it. Barely resting on the table with his other foot adding weight to it.

You make my joints ache, sir.

Ok so technically I probably could’ve cut this one, since he’s just sitting on the sofa, nothing fancy, legs crossed, arm slung over the back as he pulls faces while she’s playing a game - she’s training to be a doctor but has a fear of blood so to get her use to it his character gets her to play fighting games(?) and someone else puts red dye on her hands - but this ends up leading to...

...this.

And just...what? How...?

That can’t be comfortable, surely.

I don’t even...are your joints even real, sir?

If your own joints are twinging in sympathy pain, this is your chance to go give your arms a shake and your body a wiggle before we head to the last section of the dorm rooms. Make sure everything is where it should be to remind yourself that you’re not the broken marionette doll Bai Yu can apparently become.

Right. All shook out? Good.

First stop the girls’ dorms, last stop the boys’.

There’s not much in the main girls’ room, really, just his usual sitting with his legs crossed because obviously the floor is lava and can’t be trusted with both feet.

I’m not sure how much he can be blamed for this one, as he’s technically been thrown into the chair by the little doctor trainee whose character reminds me a bit of Wen Qing.

As a side note, when you’re watching something that you don’t understand the language of, scenes like this can really throw you, because you’re just sitting there minding your own business, when suddenly they’re alone in the room together and Bai Yu’s character is taking off his tie, before striping off his shirt and tossing it on the sofa, and then you’re sitting there like wait, what? When did...? I thought...? What? But then he just gets tossed into the chair and some kind of conversation happens that makes you relax because, yeah, from your vague understanding of the characters, that makes more sense.

Even though he was tossed down, he didn’t actually need to keep his feet on the chair, but of course that didn’t stop him.

He is actually capable of looking comfortable sitting in this particular chair, he even gets to hug a pillow while doing it.

Now then, the boys’ dorm.

He came in, he saw them, he plopped down on the coffee table.

He could’ve sat on the sofa, he could’ve pulled up a chair, but nope. Coffee table.

Obviously, as previously mentioned, the floor is lava, so at the first opportunity he lifted both feet on the table and happily sat on it like an indulgent cat or something.

The sofa.

This sofa is not big enough for a full Bai Yu stretch out, but he can happily curl up on either end.

You could turn him into Bai Yu themed bookends.

Now, from watching Guardian we are all aware that this man is fully capable of embodying the spirit of a cat.

I, however, raise you the spirit of a Great Dane.

I see no difference between these two images.

Also not even this character’s mother can get him to sit properly. She prods him up and shuffles him over, and the first thing he does is pull up a knee.

Y’know how people starfish in bed? Well Bai Yu can apparently starfish in an armchair. He just plops down and flings his limbs out.

I almost didn’t catch this one, it’s part of some studying montage thing, and I thought he was sitting properly since he’s leaning forward, and I can clearly see his slippers.

Then I had a ‘wait, hold up’ moment, went back, and looked properly.

There are no feet in those slippers.

There are no legs attached to them.

So even when you think he’s sitting properly. He isn’t because he is kneeling. And I almost missed this ridiculousness!

Yes, Bai Yu, sit on a bed post that is clearly not meant to be sat on.

This is a moment where he could’ve leant against the wall, but evidently saw even the smallest flat surface as an invitation to sit.

Is that post migrating to places a bed post shouldn’t be migrating to?

Should’ve thought of that before you went and sat on it.

Not only does illness and subsequent surgery give him an excuse to lay on a gurney, it also gives him an excuse to lay in bed!

Apparently being tucked in by other men is also something not entirely unique to Bai Yu’s Zhao Yunlan. That bloke, the roommate that he went on a not-date-but-looked-like-a-date-with-wine-and-everything, seems like an absolute sweetheart and I’m still pissed at what they did in the last episode. It was uncalled for, script writers, uncalled for!

Although, I suppose, in regards to this project, it is kinda ironic that by the end, of the three men in their 'friendship group' of seven, Bai Yu’s character is the last one standing.

If I was a ‘they were roommates. Oh god they were roommates’ kinda writer these beds would be a bloody godsend. Just look at the watching and pining potential if top bunk guy was mooning over bottom bunk guy, while top bunk was doing work at his desk, and bottom bunk was sleeping.

The potential, people, the potential.

So that’s it. Grow Up is all done, and I can confidently put this in the column of Bai Yu quirks that become character quirks.

If you want to watch it, it’s available on Youtube, but there aren’t any subtitles. It’s on Dramacool too, but, again, no subtitles and the quality is horrid compared to Youtube.

Considering I couldn’t care less about the main storyline, it’s not actually a bad little drama.

Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

#Bai Yu #Bai Yu Sitting Project #Grow Up #Xie Nanxiang

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nightofthemeteor · 4 years

Text

We Just Kind of Assumed

(A ficlet for Mitoka Melee Month - also here on AO3. Warning for implied/referenced homophobia, but this is happy fluff, I promise)

In hindsight, Mito could see how things had turned out this way.

The start of the term found Mito fresh out of high school and new to the city, nervous and excited and as determined to make friends as she was to succeed in her classes. It wasn’t like she’d ever had real trouble making friends before, but this wasn’t her hometown – she didn’t know how things worked here. So Mito studiously attended the welcome events her university sponsored, politely introduced herself to the other girls in her dorm, and cautiously checked out a few of the parties big enough for the invitations to trickle down to freshmen.

It was at a truly terrible house party in the second week of the term where everything started, and it started in a way Mito absolutely hadn’t expected.

She spotted the frat boy several seconds after he’d spotted her, and by that time he was already weaving his way through the crowded, noisy room to come talk to her. Mito, who had been nursing a drink in a corner and pretending she wasn’t acutely aware that she didn’t know anyone here, looked away quickly and tried to look busy – completely impossible, given that she was at a party and had nobody to talk to, aside from the frat boy sidling up to her.

“Hey,” said the frat boy. He was tall, with enough brown hair to shove into a messy bun under a backwards snapback, and by Mito’s assessment, probably good-looking enough that he was used to getting his way. “Are you a new student? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Mito bit her lip. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she was in no position to pass up conversation. “Yep,” she said, still not quite committing to it.

“That’s cool,” said the frat boy. “I’m in second year.” He leaned his weight on the wall beside her, clearly aiming for casual but coming off as slightly awkward, and said, “You looking for someone to – uh – show you around?”

At least that was quick, thought Mito, wincing internally. That come-on had been about as artful as the moving truck she’d seen crash into one of the dorms last week, but at least this ordeal had been brief. “Sorry,” said Mito – and then found her tongue stuck to the roof of her suddenly dry mouth. She could easily have said I’m not interested, or It’s getting late, I was about to leave, or I suddenly have a case of horrible diarrhea, but…this wasn’t her hometown, and things were supposed to be different here. Mito steeled her nerves, looked the frat boy in the eye, and said, “Actually, I’m a lesbian.”

The frat boy blinked. “Really?” he exclaimed – and then his face lit with an enormous smile. “Me too!”

“What,” said Mito. Shit, had she read this situation totally wrong? She’d just assumed –

“Oh, no – I mean, I’m bi. Sorry. Uh,” the frat boy stuck his hand out towards her, still grinning hopefully. “My name’s Hashirama.”

“Mito,” said Mito, shaking his hand bemusedly. This was – not the reaction she’d expected.

“Sorry about…” Hashirama waved his hand vaguely at the space between them.

“No worries,” said Mito, “But if I’m being honest, your flirting could probably use some work.”

Hashirama clutched his heart with the melodrama of a stage actor, hung his head, and gave the deepest sigh Mito had ever heard. Then, before she could react, his head popped back up, this time with a rueful expression. “Not my best attempt, I’ll admit,” he said. “But in my defense: flirting with girls is extremely scary.”

Mito laughed. She was still reeling from the turn this conversation had taken, but she was also immensely relieved – this was much, much less awkward. “It’s not that scary,” she said, almost automatically, though it wasn’t like she’d had much experience in that department herself. “Is it worse than flirting with boys?”

“Yes,” said Hashirama, and then held up a finger to say, wait – “But boys are terrible at flirting back.”

It only took a couple hours for Mito to find herself on the back steps of the party house, sitting beside an extremely tipsy Hashirama, admitting her fears about this new city, and in return listening to him rant about the guy in his classes he was sure would never like him back.

“Honestly, I was trying to find a way to take my mind off him,” Hashirama told her, big brown eyes shining tearfully in the glow of the streetlamps.

“By trying to pick up random people at this shitty party?” Mito asked. “That’s a terrible idea, Hashirama.”

“Yeah,” said Hashirama, and nudged her shoulder with his knuckles. “Good thing I met the right one, huh?”

They were best friends from then on.

---

Hanging around Hashirama meant that Mito was quickly introduced to his entourage. His friend group was a mix of eclectic and not always exactly harmonious personalities, but at least getting to know them helped reduce Mito’s lack-of-friends problem. There was Hashirama’s brother, Tobirama, who was reserved and cantankerous, but did offer to help her edit her essays, despite being in the same year as her. Then, there was the object of Hashirama’s admiration, Madara, who was loud and cantankerous, but also nice to her in kind of a brusque way.

And there was Hashirama’s cousin, Tōka. Tōka, who was on the women’s softball team, but was also studying engineering; Tōka, who liked to wear flannels and dark red lipstick; Tōka, who was a head taller than Mito, and was even taller than Hashirama in her thick-soled combat boots; Tōka, who had big hands and a sharp wit and a soft smile. When Hashirama introduced her to Tōka, Mito told the story of how Hashirama had introduced himself to her, sparing none of Hashirama’s feelings in the recounting, and Tōka reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

“I like this one, Hashirama!” She declared, and Mito, overwhelmed by Tōka’s dizzying grin and Tōka’s warm hand on her shoulder, nearly melted into the floor. In her desperation to conceal the blush she could feel heating her face, it never occurred to Mito that she hadn’t explicitly said she’d turned Hashirama down.

It didn’t take long for Mito to formulate a plan. It was simple, but then, nothing complicated was called for in this circumstance – not like Hashirama’s convoluted attempts to get Madara’s attention. Mito’s plan was as follows:

Become friends with Tōka.

Flirt with Tōka.

Ask Tōka out on a date.

It was simple; it was straightforward; and the first step was successful almost immediately. Tōka and Hashirama were roommates, so just by virtue of hanging out with Hashirama, Mito ended up spending time with Tōka. Over the course of a couple weeks, Mito learned that Tōka’s easygoing attitude was shot through with a serious competitive streak – just like Hashirama, although, as Mito learned, Tōka had better alcohol tolerance. She wasn’t as outgoing as her cousin, but it took very little effort on Mito’s part to strike up conversation. But most importantly, Mito learned that just like her cousin, Tōka gave physical affection as easily as talking. She’d casually brush aside a strand of Mito’s hair from her face, or sling an arm around her shoulders, or run a hand up Mito’s back to get her attention. Mito wasn’t used to that kind of casual closeness – it was driving her insane. Not that she really minded.

The problem was that Mito couldn’t tell if Tōka’s touches indicated interest, or were purely friendly. After all, Hashirama also had a habit of resting his hand on Mito’s shoulder, and of ruffling her hair (especially when she’d just finished tying it up) – and despite the way their friendship had started, Mito was certain he wasn’t interested in anything other than friendship. And here was the reason Mito’s plan was stalling on step 2: she could return Tōka’s touches, she could lean close to her over the study table or cuddle next to her on the couch, or reach out and tangle their hands together…but Tōka accepted all this without so much as blinking. Mito couldn’t tell if she even noticed.

Other people, however, certainly did notice. Hashirama picked up on what was happening almost right away, and immediately offered to be Mito’s wingman. Mito, having observed her friend’s own bumbling attempts at romance, politely refused this offer, but was privately relieved that he didn’t seem to mind her interest in his cousin (and was secretly elated that he thought she had a chance). Unfortunately, she couldn’t prevent him from sending her exaggerated winks from behind Tōka’s back. As supportive as Hashirama was, it came as an unpleasant shock to Mito that his brother, Tobirama, was most certainly not on board. More than once, Mito would put an affectionate hand on Tōka’s shoulder or laugh at one of her jokes, and feel Tobirama’s glare like ice on the back of her neck. Mito couldn’t figure out what his problem was – did he not think she’d be a good fit for his cousin? Or, was it possible…he didn’t approve because she was a girl? Mito couldn’t believe that was the case – Hashirama was pretty open about his bisexuality, after all, and Tobirama didn’t have a problem with him – but against all logic, Mito found she couldn’t shake the specter of doubt.

Then, three weeks into the term, Mito’s roommate came down with the flu, and Hashirama offered to let Mito crash at his place for a few days. Mito expected to be sleeping on the living room couch, but Hashirama insisted that, as the guest, she should take his bed. They compromised with Mito on an air mattress on Hashirama’s floor, and Mito spend the next couple of nights enduring his truly awful snoring. Yet again, it never occurred to Mito that this decision might have unforeseen consequences (aside from the snoring), and so, two days later, when Mito tried to join Hashirama and Madara for a study session at their local coffeeshop, she was absolutely baffled when Madara snapped his textbook shut and announced, “I’m leaving.”

“What the hell?” said Mito, watching his retreating back.

Hashirama heaved a sigh so pitiful that it reminded Mito of the way her dog would sigh if you stopped petting him for a moment. “Something’s been up with him for a while,” he said, miserably, “But it’s gotten worse all of a sudden. I have no idea what it is.”

“I mean, you probably did something to piss him off,” Mito informed him, reasonably, “But what did I do?”

Amidst this weird hostility from both Madara and Tobirama, Mito was relieved to find that Tōka, at least, was still friendly with her. That was a side benefit of crashing at Hashirama’s place – she got the chance to spend a lot of extra time with his roommate. Mito had plenty of time to work herself up to step 3 of her plan: ask Tōka on a date.

She dropped the invitation oh-so-casually, with calculated thoughtlessness; no sense making it out to be a big deal. “Want to grab a coffee with me tomorrow?”

“Sure thing,” said Tōka, barely looking up from her phone, and Mito, despite the apparent success of her invitation, felt her heart sink. That wasn’t exactly the response she’d expect from someone who’d just been asked out.

Still, she forged on: “Maybe at 4? You’re out of class by then, right?”

Tōka looked up at that, and then, to the confused delight of Mito’s heart, gave her one of her long, slow smiles. “Yep, you got it. I’ll see you then,” she said, and Mito once again began to hope.

She was thinking of that smile as she agonized over her outfit the next day – it had to be casual, ordinary, but still perfect – styled her hair extra carefully, debated over whether to wear lipstick, and finally headed to the coffeeshop exactly on time. Tōka was already there, waiting in line. Mito’s heart began to race – she called Tōka’s name, and Tōka turned around, saw her standing there –

And a look of unease passed over her face. It was just a flicker, just a moment, so that Mito could almost believe she’d imagined it; even so, Mito felt her heart drop. This wasn’t what she’d been hoping for at all. But it was too soon to back out, and so Mito pasted on a cheerful smile and went to meet her friend for coffee.

The drinks were tasty, but the conversation was stilted, awkward in a way it never had been before. Mito had been imagining taking Tōka’s hand across the table, stealing her drink, maybe even sliding into the same side of the booth – but now she could only watch as Tōka’s eyes slid past her face. Mito could only think of one explanation for this change, and it didn’t take long for her worst fears to be confirmed.

“Um, I’m really sorry for asking,” Tōka said, for once looking uncomfortable instead of self-assured, “But…is this a date?”

Oh no, thought Mito. She had no choice but to be honest – no point in lying to her friend – but this one was seriously going to hurt. “I was kind of hoping so,” she admitted, and wondered if she could make it back to her room before the tears came. "But it's fine - " her voice choked a little; she forced the words out, "If you don't like me that way - it's fine."

“Mito…” Tōka no longer looked just uncomfortable; she looked wretched, so much so that Mito was a little taken aback. She seized her short black hair in both hands and said, as if the words were torn from her: “I like you – I like you so much. You’re beautiful and smart and fucking great and I just – I don’t – why are you doing this to me?”

“What?” said Mito, startled enough to forget her impending tears. She’d been expecting Tōka to at least let her down gently.

“I thought Tobirama was insane when he said you were flirting.”

“Wh…why would that be insane?”

“Because it’s wrong,” said Tōka, with such conviction that Mito felt as though she’d been slapped. Wrong? Mito hadn’t expected to hear that here, not from her friend, not from Tōka. She felt as though her stomach was trying to climb out her throat. Had her suspicions about Tobirama been right after all?

The words came out low and angry, in a voice Mito barely recognized as her own. “What do you mean, ‘wrong’?”

“Hashirama’s my cousin,” said Tōka, anguished, “I can’t do this to him.”

Once again Mito was thrown for a loop. Why would Tōka think that Hashirama would disapprove of her dating a girl? “Hashirama’s bi,” she said, utterly confused.

Tōka leveled an accusatory look at her. “Just because he’s bi doesn’t mean he’s polyamorous.”

“Wait – what?”

“What?”

The two of them stared at each other across the table. Then, finally, the pieces began to fit together in Mito’s frazzled brain. Slowly, she asked, “Did you think I was dating Hashirama?”

Tōka’s eyes were locked on hers. “You mean…you’re not?”

“Oh my god,” said Mito. She slammed her hands on the table, startling them both, and practically shouted, “NO! No, I’m not dating him! I’m gay! GAY! One hundred percent lesbian!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mito could see the people at the nearby tables staring at them; in front of her, Tōka covered her mouth with her hand and let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched giggle. “Okay! I get it. But…I don’t understand…”

“Did Hashirama say we were dating? If he did, I’m going to murder him.”

“No, he never told us, exactly, but like – he went out hoping to meet someone, and then suddenly you were always with him. I guess we just kind of assumed?”

“Oh my god,” said Mito again. She jabbed a finger at Tōka. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, you know! I thought you were homophobic or something!”

“No, no!” said Tōka, waving her hands in front of her, “I like girls! I swear!” She planted in face in her hands and said, through her fingers, “I like you! I felt so guilty when I realized.”

Mito, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt, reached out and tugged Tōka’s hands away from her face. “You like me?”

“Yeah,” said Tōka, breathless and holding Mito’s hands, and looking at her with the same expression of disbelief and joy Mito could feel on her own face. The world spun; the only thing holding Mito to the ground was the feel of Tōka’s hands in hers, and then –

Mito suddenly had a thought. “Wait,” she said. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘We just kind of assumed’. Who else thinks Hashirama and I are dating?”

Tōka blinked at her. “Uh, definitely Tobirama, but probably most of his friends too.”

“Holy shit,” said Mito.

#mitoka melee 2020 #sneaking this in right before the end of the month #i have a bunch more ideas for fics but sadly no time to write them #hopefully i'll add to this someday #in the meantime here is my humble offering #mitoka #naruto #my writing

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homespork-review · 3 years

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HOMESPORK ACT 5 ACT 1: Mobius Double Plusungood, Part 3

TW: """funny""" sexual and physical assault of a child by another child, extreme bullying, extreme ableism, a very brief discussion of shipping characters outside their canon sexuality.

CHEL: We get some implications of the part of troll culture we ended on last time when a slightly baffled-looking Nepeta, watching through the viewport, updates her SHIPPING WALL. Instead of hearts, some of the hypothetical pairings she’s painted are marked with diamonds. What this means will be explained shortly.

I can’t help but feel it’s slightly creepy to hypothetically matchmake your own friends, but I’m pretty sure the other trolls know at least that the shipping wall exists if not exactly which ships they’re in, and they do live in a society in which it’s stated later that mating is mandatory, so it would indeed be helpful to have at least emergency-doable matchmaking done well in advance and they might appreciate the help.

I’d like to take a moment to note a ship at the bottom row, left of centre; GA/Tavros. Hussie, on his Formspring, later said that GA was “obviously” a lesbian, or anyway was only interested in women, which doesn’t have a specific term for it in troll culture. It’s actually hard to tell going by what’s shown in canon, because she only displays specific interest in girls except for in a complicated case we’ll discuss later, but trolls are supposed to be bi-normative, plus it’s not like the male selection here is particularly inspiring, so, yeah, the evidence we actually see isn't conclusively "obvious". The fandom, knowing this, systematically harass anyone who even muses vaguely about the possibility of shipping her with a boy, even if they don't know about that Word of God. This is why I’m wondering whether the trolls knew about the shipping wall, because if they did, we can presume GA didn’t care. For the record, I’m sex-repulsed ace and have in fact written about.my own imaginary persona fucking (admittedly fucking an opposite sex clone of herself, it was a complicated injoke) and my reaction to someone else writing it would depend on context and reason, so I can imagine her reacting similarly, but not everyone would. A similar thing with a canonically gay male character explicitly on-screen not caring about hypothetical shipping of himself with girls comes up much later; he’s not a troll, but his upbringing was troll-influenced (long story).

BRIGHT: Harassing people over the ships they make content for always baffles me. It’s not like fanart/fanfic for a ship which contradicts canon has any effect on the canon, and playing around with character dynamics (often in a pornographic manner) is a major part of fanfic.

CHEL: On top of all this, gender and sexuality are really shaky concepts to even try to apply to a species which reproduces hermaphroditically. On this side of the fourth wall it’s obviously because Hussie is a not-very-reflective cisgender heterosexual man, and didn’t think about it any further than “girls wear skirts, right?” Plenty of people fanwank up possibilities for how it could happen on the other side. I think we may have to make a “What The Fuck Is Alternian Biology And Sociology” post or two separate from the sporking at the very end.

Discourse discussion over! Next page, we see some of the relevant terminology used in troll culture, though we still don’t get any explanation of what any of the words actually mean, which is a tad annoying for new readers. The context is a discussion between Karkat and Vriska about getting her into the game.

BRIGHT: Specifically, Karkat wants Vriska to get Tavros into the game, leading to this exchange…

CG: WHY DO YOU EVEN HATE HIM, IT'S FUCKING RIDICULOUS. CG: IF ANYTHING YOU SHOULD PITY HIM. CG: ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WERE THE ONE WHO PARALYZED HIM. AG: I know. I don't really understand it. AG: It's just a really special kind of h8! It never goes away and it doesn't make a lot of sense. CG: THIS IS KIND OF A WEIRD TIME TO BE CONFIDING IN ME ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS OF BLACK ROMANCE BUT OK. AG: Oh god, what? CG: I MEAN IF YOU'RE REALLY IMPLYING TAVROS IS YOUR KISMESIS I THINK YOU'RE BRAYING UP THE WRONG FROND NUB. CG: BOTH PARTIES HAVE TO HATE EACH OTHER EQUALLY, I MEAN LIKE TRUE HATE. CG: MAYBE YOUR FEELINGS COME SOMEWHAT CLOSE TO FITTING THE BILL BUT I DON'T THINK HE CAN HATE ANYONE, IT'S WEIRD, HE'S KIND OF BROKEN IN THE HEAD.

Finally, our long-awaited introduction to troll romance!

And the introduction is an effective one. We now know that there’s something called ‘black romance’, that it concerns hate, and that one’s black-romantic partner is a ‘kismesis’. The conversation also flows naturally and fits the characters having it, rather than being an awkward as-you-know infodump, although brace yourselves, there’s one of those coming up. Thirteen is about right for kids starting to have romantic feelings and being confused about it, not wanting to talk about it is pretty normal, and Karkat lecturing people at a good opportunity is absolutely in character.

Karkat goes on to lecture Vriska about the emotions involved in different sorts of romantic relationships, and wow, it really says a lot about troll culture…

CG: OK, MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T HAD THEIR LOBE STEM CAUTERIZED ARE CAPABLE OF FEELING THE TWO PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE AND PITY. CG: PITY IS OF COURSE JUST THE TONED DOWN VERSION OF THE CENTRAL EMOTION, HATE. CG: AND ALL THE NUANCES OF PITY MANIFEST AS VARIOUS OTHER KINDS OF FEELINGS LIKE WHATEVER CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGER MATING FONDNESS OR THE MYSTERIOUS FORCES THAT ARE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE.

CHEL: It’s never really clear if this is just Karkat’s idea of it or if this is how trolls actually work biologically. Trolls do use the word “love” later on, so I always interpreted it as “pity” being a euphemistic term because “love” in such a warlike and oppressive culture could be exploited as a weakness. Fandom has played it with their love actually being based on a weird form of sympathy/seeing the other as needing protection, which is also plausible.

FAILURE ARTIST: I have played with the pity thing before but in retrospect Karkat is the only one who seems to see it that way. Maybe this is all his fake deep teenager view of romance.

BRIGHT: Vriska makes a performance of how bored she is, but Karkat’s on a roll.

CG: A WELL BALANCED PERSON IS IS GOING TO HAVE A GOOD DISTRIBUTION BETWEEN HATE AND THE VARIOUS PITY HUMORS. CG: HAVING A GOOD BALANCE KEEPS ALL THE EMOTIONS SHARPER, SEE I THINK THAT'S YOUR PROBLEM. AG: Oh???????? AG: I hope you know I already wore out some good note-taking pens today. All the pens. AG: All of them. CG: SEE, MY HATE IS LIKE A FINELY TUNED INSTRUMENT BECAUSE I'M AWARE OF THESE PRINCIPLES. CG: I COULD HATE A HOLE IN PARADOX SPACE ITSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH TO A NEW REALITY FRESH FOR THE HATING. AG: Hahahahahahahaha, you don't even know how much I'm laughing at this. CG: BUT SEE, YOU'RE TOO HEAVY ON THE HATE SIDE, OR AT LEAST YOU PRETEND TO BE WHICH IS MAYBE WORSE. AG: You aren't reading anything I say are you? You just want to talk and talk and talk. CG: AND YOU THINK YOU'RE HATING UP EVERYONE HARD WHEN YOU'RE REALLY JUST BURNING OUT THAT ENTIRE EMOTIONAL HEMISPHERE. CG: IT'S LIKE LUKEWARM HATE. PRETENDER'S HATE, WITH NO COUNTERPOINT AT ALL. CG: AS SUCH THERE'S NO REAL SUBSTANCE TO YOUR HATE, IT'S LIKE A CARDBOARD MOVIE PROP. CG: WHICH IS WHY YOUR BRAIN IS BROKEN, KIND OF LIKE TAVROS'S BUT ON THE OPPOSITE HEMISPHERE I GUESS. CG: OR MAYBE YOUR BROKEN BRAIN LED TO THE IMBALANCE IN THE FIRST PLACE, I DON'T KNOW. CG: WHATEVER THE CASE IS, YOU'RE KIND OF EMOTIONALLY SCREWED, SORRY TO SAY. CG: YOUR HATE'S TOO DULL FOR A PROPER KISMESIS, IN MY OPINION. CG: AND I DON'T SEE ANYONE CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO BE YOUR MOIRAIL HONESTLY, UNLESS THERE'S SOMEONE OUT THERE WHO WOULD ACTUALLY BOTHER PITYING YOU. CG: AND LANDING A MATESPRIT? HAHAHAHA! CG: SERIOUSLY, LIKE THAT WOULD EVEN INTEREST YOU. CG: BASICALLY ANY FEATURE OF YOUR EMOTIONAL PROFILE THAT USUALLY MAKES SOMEONE VIABLE IN THE REDROM DEPARTMENT MUST BE TOTALLY FRIED. CG: YOUR BLACKROM POTENTIAL'S PROBABLY TOAST TOO.

Whew.

So now we have ‘kismesis’, ‘moirail’, and ‘matesprit’ as terms for romantic partners, as well as the concepts of black romance, red romance, and ‘moirallegiance’ as the relationship one has with a moirail. Troll romance is not going to get any less confusing for a while.

If Karkat’s grasp of psychology strikes you as amateurish, there’s a reason for that: He gets all his knowledge from romance movies.

AG: Hey asshole, stop watching movies for girls.

I think that’s another strike against the ‘girls are the dangerous ones on Alternia’ argument. Romance movies, per this exchange, are both female-coded and seen as inferior -- Karkat defends his viewing choices by saying they’re INTRIGUING SOCIOLOGICALLY, but Vriska isn’t buying it.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 42 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 33

CHEL: I’m not sure an interest in the workings of romance should be a socially gendered thing in a society where, as it turns out, you have to have an acceptable romantic partner by a certain time or die. You’d think most kids would be trying as hard as they could to learn and put into practice everything they could about it, and you’d also think there’d be better information for them than romcoms.

BRIGHT: Has the mate-or-die part come up yet? I’m not sure when Hussie thought of it.

CHEL: I don’t know if he’d thought of it yet, but it does come up very soon.

BRIGHT: Karkat then moves on to the original reason he contacted Vriska -- he needs her and her mind powers in the game, because he’s just run into a double agent called Jack.

Over on the next panel, Karkat is still talking to Vriska, but he’s glancing back over his shoulder at Jack Noir. His hand is covered in blood, which keeps cycling through a range of colours. The blood, it transpires, is because Jack stabbed him. Karkat is amazingly calm about this.

CG: HE'S COOL, IT'S FINE I DON'T REALLY MIND THE STABBING, IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING. CG: WELL OK I'M PRETTY SURE HE MEANT TO STAB ME. CG: BUT I KIND OF THINK THAT'S LIKE CG: THE WAY HE GREETS PEOPLE? AG: This game is so stupid. CG: IN ANY CASE I THINK HE'S PROBABLY ALL STABBED OUT.

This would be ridiculously chill even from someone who isn’t extremely cagey about his blood colour -- and it’s not that Karkat suddenly doesn’t care any more, because as soon as Vriska says she’ll ask Terezi or Jack what colour he’s bleeding, he tells her that he’s out of Terezi’s range, Jack is sworn to secrecy, and Sollux (who’s incommunicado) is the only one who knows how to make Trollian’s viewport feature work. (Given we saw how easy it is to use earlier, I’m surprised Vriska doesn’t try to figure it out herself.)

Over on the next panel, the viewer is now Jack, a few minutes prior to this conversation. Contrary to Karkat’s protestations, Jack stabs him because He's got a pretty sharp tongue and can't seem to keep it sheathed. He is curious when Karkat cares less about the wound and more about Jack seeing his blood colour, which is apparently some freakish mutation. Jack looks at his knife…

CHEL: While it’s not a realistic depiction of the colour, recall that this is the shade of red used in-comic to depict human blood. This reveal probably isn’t a surprise to anyone by now, if you’ve encountered fanart, and honestly it wasn’t a huge mindblowing revelation on my first read before I knew, but I do think it’s a clever little “aha, THAT’S why!” moment. Skilfully done.

It seems he's the only one of his kind with this mutant candy-red blood. An outcast. He thinks he was put on this planet covered in an ocean of his own blood to be taunted. Punished for something. Saddest story you ever heard. Got to do something to shut him up.

BRIGHT: Awww. That’s kind of sweet.

This little interchange gave rise to the ‘Stabdads’ fandom phenomenon, where Spades Slick is envisaged as Karkat’s father-figure. In Homestuck canon, it’s dubious how much affection Slick has for Karkat. He seems more irritated by him than anything else, but that’s about on par for how he treats the rest of the Midnight Crew. On the other hand, it clearly makes a massive impact on Karkat. We’ve seen how important blood colour is on Alternia and how insecure he is about his own; his sudden rush of fellow-feeling towards Jack is understandable, even if it does make him way too forgiving about having been stabbed.

CHEL: Karkat and Jack shake hands, and proceed to be in cahoots. Cahoooooooots. Doodling on the defaced parking ticket from earlier, they draft OPERATION REGISURP.

Your whole team executes the plan along the course of its journey, employing espionage, mind control tactics, political sabotage, vicious interrogations and cold blooded assassinations. Everyone does their part and you begin to learn the true meaning of teamwork, as well as this troll disease called friendship.

Yeah, it actually happening is skipped over with one paragraph, but that’s probably a good thing with all the complexity already going on, and we do hear more details about it. First, we’re reminded of the existence and functions of the Queens’ Rings, the magic rings the queens of Derse and Prospit have which give them traits and powers from whatever the players put in their sprites. The trolls have put their lusii in their sprites, except for Aradia, whose lusus died long ago, so she got in the sprite herself. The Queen could put up with getting bits and pieces from eleven hideous monsters (well, ten hideous monsters and one adowable little fairybull thing oh my gosh it’s cuuuute) tacked onto her, but what she absolutely won’t stand for is the other thing Aradia put in her sprite…

She could not stand bearing the visage of the most loathsome creature known to existence. So vile is its appearance, so contemptible its purpose, all depictions of the creature let alone members of its population are permanently banned from any jurisdiction in the reach of her agents. Those of its kind go by many names, and so does the reviled patron god they herald - THE GREAT DETESTATION, KING PONDSQUATTER, SPEAKER OF THE VAST JOKE, or most commonly, BILIOUS SLICK.

Recall that AR thought of the hieroglyphs in the Frog Temple as “illegal pictography”. We’ll find out later why the Black Queen has such a revulsion for frogs, it’s important. But the important part right now is that she took the ring off. At the time of planning it’s in the ROYAL VAULT.

We briefly see a moment in the future of the Black Queen wrapped in rags, just like the human sessions’ White Queen, wandering the desert as the BANISHED QUASIROYAL, and the caption notes the plan was a success.

However, Doc Scratch appears in the desert in front of her, and it’s noted she was given a new purpose. This, it seems, is the origin of Snowman.

FAILURE ARTIST: I would like if there was some canon Homestuck material expanding on this REGISURP plot.

BRIGHT: Same! It sounds really interesting. One example of Homestuck’s idiosyncratic pacing, I suppose -- we spend pages and pages on trivial alchimeter nonsense, but skip over something more meaty.

CHEL: The Red Team work on that, while the Blue Team battle their own session… or so they think. Yeah, I’m sure you’ve all already figured it out, but the trolls hadn’t just yet. They note that their prototypes are affecting the opposite team’s underlings, and the readers are shown Alternia’s two Frog Temples, one near Aradia’s home and the other near Kanaya’s, each with six pillars outside (one seems to have five, but the sixth is hidden behind the building). Superimposed on each other, the pillars make a full ring of twelve.

The truth was it had always been the same session all along. That your teams were not competing, but cooperating toward a common goal. In the more drawn out form of this adventure's narrative, figuring this out would have been a huge deal. We would have been completely blown away by this stunning revelation. Wow. Same session all along. Really? Huh.

This is what Aradia’s been so mysterious about. She knew. We’re provided with a handy diagram, in case we haven’t been able to keep up.

After watching the phrases MOBIUS DOUBLE and REACH AROUND toggle for a few minutes while in a sort of stupor, you finally snap out of it.

(I just noticed, the Blue Team are the Derse dreamers and the Red Team are the Prospit dreamers. Neat!)

The reader’s attention is drawn instead to the Aquarius and Pisces symbols in the top left, belonging to characters we haven’t met yet, and the narration promises we’ll learn about them soon. Drawing attention again to GA’s Virgo symbol, the narration muses about her.

It will probably be quite some time before you get to be her. It could very well be pages and pages and pages.

Naturally, we jump right back to her.

GA’s intro is long, so we’ll take it piece by piece.

Your name is KANAYA MARYAM.

The Sanskrit name for Virgo is “Kanya”, and it’s also the name of a town in Japan. “Maryam” is the Arabic version of “Mary”, as in Jesus’ mother. It may also be a reference to Marya Zaleska, the title character of the movie “Dracula’s Daughter”.

You are one of the few of your kind who can withstand the BLISTERING ALTERNIAN SUN, and perhaps the only who enjoys the feel of its rays. As such, you are one of the few of your kind who has taken a shining to LANDSCAPING. You have cultivated a lush oasis around your hive, and in particular, you have honed your craft through the art of TOPIARY, sculpting your trees to match the PUFFY ORACLES from your dreams. You have embraced the tool of this trade, which conveniently is the weapon of choice for those who would hunt the HEINOUS BROODS OF THE UNDEAD which crawl from the sand at sunrise to feast on the light and the living.

Couple things established here; trolls are not only nocturnal but actively harmed by their planet’s sun, and undead beings other than ghosts exist. Said traditional weapon for hunting them is a chainsaw, which we can see lying against her bookshelf, a reference to the Evil Dead movies.

It would be convenient if you actually hunted them, but it is of course far too dangerous, every bit as suicidal as attempting to poach the terrible MUSCLEBEASTS who roam at night. So you indulge in your bright fascination with the grim through literature. Just before the sun goes down and you join your flora in rest, you immerse yourself in tales of RAINBOW DRINKERS and SHADOW DROPPERS and FORBIDDEN PASSION.

Rainbow drinkers are, as discussed later on, troll vampires. I don’t think shadow droppers are ever expanded on, but they might be zombies or werebeasts. Troll goths, apparently, are the reverse of human goths, dressing in bright colours and staying up in the daytime, which makes sense for a species who can only safely go out at night.

You are one of the few of your kind with JADE GREEN BLOOD. As such you are one of the few who could be selected and raised by a VIRGIN MOTHER GRUB, an event so rare as to elude documented precedent. She would defend you from desert threats, and though her life would be short, in time you would assure her of progeny.

Recall that the Mother Grub is required for troll reproduction.

You are a SEAMSTRESS or a RAGRIPPER or a TREETRIMMER or a LUMBERJACK, whichever you care to be, and your unique hive is equipped with a great supply of advanced technology to accommodate your interests. The technology and indeed the hive itself were all recovered from the ruins nearby when you were very young. The seed of your hive was deployed on the volcanic rocks beneath the sand with the assistance of your lusus and her remarkable burrowing skills, and you have lived there happily together since. You know the ruins and the hive and everything here that is not sand and rock originated from the world of your dreams. You also know that one day you will visit this world while you are awake. That day is today.

Like Jade, Kanaya has been awake on Prospit for years, and the technology in question is Skaian in origin, so that’s how she knows what’s going on with the game.

Kanaya is prompted to equip her chainsaw, which promptly turns into a lipstick in a Problem Sleuth reference. Like Jade, she has a Wardrobifier, set to randomise, which suddenly turns her black shirt and red skirt into a red leaf-print dress. She takes out the lipstick.

You can choose between your trademark jade or black. Even though a troll's lips are naturally black. But they can always be blacker, and a lady with a true sense of style knows this.

She goes with green, her dress turns into a blue kimono, and she’s messaged by someone with a fuschia Pisces symbol. This person, named cuttlefishCuller, turns out to be rather excitable, greeting her in all caps and following it up with Glub glub glub glub glub!

BRIGHT: This conversation is pretty sweet, with some friendly joking about CC’s quirk (they stick hyphens in front of their capital Es) and mention of their Collapsing And Expanding Bladder Based Aquatic Vascular System. There’s another mention of moirails, with CC saying they’ll have to join the game late to keep an eye on theirs.

It also turns out both CC and Kanaya are having some premonitions of what’s to come! Kanaya is seeing visions in the clouds of Skaia, the same way Jade does, but CC hears whispers from a mysterious ‘she’ who needs her voice keeping down. It’s implied to be CC’s lusus, as both Kanaya and CC are aware their lusii are going to die soon.

Kanaya hopes to be with her lusus as she dies, but looks out of the window to find the Virgin Mother Grub has already passed away, apparently of natural causes.

CHEL: The Mother Grub was seen briefly before; it’s a moth-like creature with a huge fat body the size of a bus, with wings too small to ever lift it, horns the same shape as Kanaya’s, and a skull-like head with big lips. The skull on Terezi’s Doomsday Scale was, we can tell now, a Mother Grub, except quite a lot bigger - presumably a breeding Grub.

BRIGHT: Kanaya changes back into her original outfit, and goes down to live up to her end of the bargain… which entails slicing a hole in her lusus with her chainsaw and pulling out a round object covered in spikes the colour of trolls’ horns, called a Matriorb. Kanaya stores it in her sylladex; she’s using a CHASTITY MODUS, which locks each card away, and the key will serendipitously be discovered when it’s time for the card to be unlocked. These modii are getting more and more esoteric.

Kanaya proceeds to have a conversation with her own moirail, Vriska, which we already read earlier.

You then proceed to have the rest of this conversation we already read, bugging and fussing and meddling through the special and magical union one can only describe as being in moirallegiance with another. At least, you guess that's how you would describe it. Maybe. Troll romance sure is confusing!

Yes, yes it is. (Spoiler: It’s not that confusing once it’s explained.)

Kanaya doesn’t have long to dwell on the conversation, as she’s contacted by caligulasAquarium, someone with a violet Aquarius symbol who she doesn’t seem to think highly of. It rapidly becomes apparent why.

CA: kan make her talk to me do somethin GA: Who CA: your no good connivvin fuckin backstabbin girl crush thats wwho

CHEL: Trolls are supposed to come bi/pan as standard, so why does he need to specify “girl crush”? I wonder if Hussie hadn’t decided that yet when he wrote this part, but I’m not sure.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 34

CA’s gender hasn’t been revealed, but let’s not kid ourselves, we know from how he’s talking that he’s a dude. Nice Girls certainly exist but they don’t tend to get portrayed as so whiny in fiction, plus CC comes off as very girly, and that leaves us with six boy and six girl trolls. Balance and opposites and counterparts are a running theme throughout Homestuck. Not that there can’t be nonbinary characters, as some show up in Hiveswap; just that there would most likely have to be an even number of them, split evenly between the groups of players. Fine by me as a nonbinary person with a thing for balance and even numbers of my own.

Also, note that we’ve seen this guy, or at least his hand and foot, before. This is the litter-hater in the bowling shoes.

GA: Overstating Our Relationship Wont Make Me Feel Very Cooperative GA: Its Paler Red Than That Ok CA: pshhhhhh that is a fuckin laugh and you knoww it evveryone does CA: so help me out tell her to talk to me i think she blocked me you got to GA: Why Do I Got To GA: I Dont Got To And Every Time You Take My Help For Granted I Feel Like I Got To A Little Less CA: wwhatEVVER you are so the vvillage twwo wwheel devvice wwhen it comes to auspisticing CA: you cant let a grudge go by you wwont stick your busy stem betwwixt so get wwith the program fussyfangs

BRIGHT: Oh hey, another troll romance term! ‘Auspisticing’ is the last of the lot, don’t worry.

CA: wwho givves a shit wwhy she blocked me or about my fuckin manners come on youvve got a wway wwith her CA: i figure if youre going to auspisticize any twwo brinesuckers wwho sneer at each other a funny wway you might as wwell make it official and be ours right GA: Your Black Solicitation Just Seems Really Indecent

Funny words aside, Hussie does a good job at laying down context for what auspisticism is here; we now know that it involves mediating between two parties who dislike each other and that it’s a form of black romance. Meshing worldbuilding naturally into the dialogue is something Homestuck does really well at times.

Anyway, CA is trying to get in contact with Vriska because he asked her to make something for him and now she’s blowing him off.

GA: What Is It CA: kan stupid wwhat do you think its a fuckin gizmo to bloww up the wworld or somethin CA: ok wwell not that obvviously CA: but somethin thatll kill all land dwwellers wwhat else wwould i be after GA: Can You Just For A Moment Entertain The Thoughts Of One Untouched By Megalomaniacal Derangement And Tell Me Why Id Want To Assist You With That CA: wwell CA: im not goin to vvery wwell kill you am i that wwould be fuckin unconscionable CA: wwhat kind of friend wwould i be

While CA is obviously a douche, there’s something funny about how over-the-top he is about it and how utterly oblivious he is to the idea that Kanaya might have a problem with a device that would kill all landdwellers, although the humour is inversely proportionate to how likely he is to pull it off.

CHEL: Maybe I’m strange, but I think he’s adorable. I get the impression of a small kid trying to puff himself up to adult size.

BRIGHT: There’s also more romance talk, and this next bit is one I find interesting:

CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps CA: you knoww thats wwhat it wwould be there wwould be rainboww rivvers runnin through star systems and all nebulizin like liquid firewworks CA: it wwill be beautiful and heartbreaking all at once CA: you should read up on your history instead of poring through that godawwfull sunny rubbish

I’m going to take a step back from Homestuck itself for a moment and talk about kismessitude as it’s portrayed in fandom. People tend to envision it in a variety of ways -- some see it as a BDSM relationship, some as a way of pushing a rival to be better, some as just straight-up hate-sex -- but most depictions show it as something that only affects the two people involved.

Here, though? CA’s talking about kismessitude as something that’s potentially really damn dangerous, to other people besides those involved, and cites history as a backup -- implying it can really be that dangerous, and it’s not just a teenager’s flight of fancy. (Although, that said, CA is clearly using this to try and get Kanaya in a relationship with him, so how sincere he is is questionable.)

CHEL: Later on we do see a little bit of one of the historical cases he might have been citing. We’ll discuss it more then. Also, I do like him saying “sunny” instead of “gloomy”. Makes sense!

Kanaya tells CA none of this matters, and he sneers about the “purity of the bloodline”. That’s an… uncomfortable turn of phrase, especially since he’s speaking to someone not covered by the “purity” standard, but since it applies to aliens and it’s in a society where that’s hammered into its inhabitants it’s not a Problematykks issue. Kanaya tells him it still won’t matter because their race will be wiped out entirely, and his reaction is remarkably understated:

CA: huh CA: wwell ok HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 11

CA says he knows Kanaya doesn’t lie except to herself, surprisingly perceptive for one so puffed-up otherwise. CA might be smarter than he’s letting on? He asks if her clouds told her that; that was the reader’s assumption too, but she says no, she has a different source. Uh-oh. We know what the last source of information was, and it cost Vriska an arm and an eye-sevenfold. CA’s own clouds “hide nothin but misfortune and monstrosities”, so we can guess she’s Prospit and he’s Derse. He goes back to nagging her to tell Vriska to talk to him, and when she continues to refuse he poutily steps off.

CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that

Kanaya denies this, and CA says everyone knows, including Karkat.

GA: Its Unbelievable GA: Her Patience CA: wwhat CA: wwhoa wwait wwho GA: Never Mind CA: ok wwait did she talk to you today CA: wwhat did she say CA: or glub or wwhatevver

They’re talking about CC, if it wasn’t clear. Kanaya, in a callback to John’s comment to Terezi, facetiously tells him that she talked about Longing To Touch You Indiscretely and That Shes Basically In The Scarlet Throes For You. CA, flustered, picks up that she’s teasing him, and she tells him the truth, that CC’s just concerned as a moirail.

CA: if youre not savvvvy about howw you define yourself to people CA: you can just splash into the moirail zone before you knoww wwhich wways upwward

I’m going to comment on this attitude in a bit more detail when we get a clearer explanation of what moirallegiance actually is. CA leaves her with some arc words.

CA: being a kid and growwing up CA: its hard and nobody understands

Kanaya heads back to her room, planning to emphatically not meddle but help her friends, and consults her source; it’s fortunately not a Doc Scratch-related one at all. It is, in fact, Rose’s long-forgotten GameFAQ, saved on a server floating in the Furthest Ring, to which Prospit’s clouds directed her. I have to show you the panel for a moment though…

I’m sure there was a way we could see the screen without having it facing away from Kanaya who’s supposed to be reading it.

You can only assume this took place a long time ago. This race is likely ancient, preceding yours by millions of sweeps. Maybe billions! You like to try to imagine the adventures of these players. Were they successful in repopulating their race? Did they manage to protect their matriorb and hatch a new mother grub? Could they hold it together, or were they torn apart by the complex social dynamics, the matespritships and moirallegiences and auspisticisms and kismesissitudes that will surely plague your group along the way? You have little doubt they succeeded with flying colors.

Oh dear, dramatic irony. Kanaya fantasises about a troll version of Rose, thinking she must have been the leader of this supposedly long-ago group.

And yet they appear to have been the only of their kind to have risen to the challenge in a session stacked heavily against them.

Huh. So is this just because Kanaya can’t find more information, or are the four kids in fact the only humans who successfully got into the game? Picking four specifically white-coded kids to be the last of the human race due to supposedly their own competence is… not a good choice. And why the hell couldn’t other people succeed? This strikes me as more of the whole theme of “nobody matters except the people we’re focusing on”. A good lampshading of video game tropes, but in a literary story, that’s the opposite message to everything I’ve ever read, and it’s a creepy one.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 43 HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 12 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 35

BRIGHT: I thiiiiiiiink it’s at least implied later on that there are other sessions going, it’s just that each session is a closed loop of players so we don’t see the others...although if that’s the case, does that mean Earth’s getting hit with meteors from multiple Skaias?

CHEL: That over with for the moment, we cut to Tavros’ house as you take your place as the PAGE OF BREATH in the LAND OF SAND AND ZEPHYR. Vriska, his server player, gets down to the business of building up his house towards the Gate…

… entirely out of staircases.

AT: i THINK THIS, iS, AT: pROBABLY MEANT TO ANTAGONIZE ME,

Okay, this probably makes me a bad person, but I’m crying with laughter at his expression and that line.

It’s more disability slapstick, but here the point of the joke comes off as being more that Vriska is a jerk and Tavros’ reaction is really understated than any reasonable person being supposed to assume Tavros is wrong for not being able to climb stairs. Emphasis on “comes off as”, unfortunately. I’m still gonna give a Problematykks point, and further experience with Hussie’s attitude to disability has soured the joke somewhat, even in just the next couple of pages.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 44

BRIGHT: Vriska tries to get Tavros to crawl up the stairs, first by telling him that he promised not to be boring anymore and then by saying that she’s trying to help him get stronger. She caps off the rant by demanding that he apologise.

AT: oKAY, AT: tHANKS, i GUESS, AT: bUT, AT: sORRY FOR WHAT, AG: For 8eing crippled, you ass! AT: yOU WANT ME TO APOLOGIZE, AT: fOR BEING PARALYZED, AG: Yes. AG: Say you're sorry. AT: i DON'T MEAN TO BE RUDE, oR bORING, AT: bUT THAT'S RIDICULOUS, gIVEN, AT: uH, tHE CIRCUMSTANCES, AG: 8ullshit! AG: It's something called 8asic decency and civility you fudge8looded 8oor. AG: Now get down on your useless wo88ly knees and apologize. AT: nO, i DON'T WANT TO, AG: >::::O

Vriska, what the fuck.

Tavros is really great here. He’s obviously not comfortable fighting with Vriska, and repeatedly tries to redirect her into building him ramps instead of engaging. But, at the same time, he holds his ground and doesn’t let her push him around, and won’t let go of solid hard reality in the face of Vriska trying to emotionally manipulate him.

FAILURE ARTIST: And yet people still call him a wimp.

BRIGHT: Vriska retaliates, because of course she does, by grabbing his wheelchair with her cursor and shaking it about. If Hussie left it at that, everything would be unobjectionable, at least in terms of narrative voice. Instead, well…

Now she's done it. She has awoken the mighty inner fury that is... RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

CHEL: It just occurred to me to mention that the name Rufio comes from a character in the movie Hook, the leader of the Lost Boys after Peter Pan left, played by Dante Basco. Tavros’ mental image of him is a reference to that character.

FAILURE ARTIST: Dante Basco did read Homestuck, with hilarious results as we will see.

But unfortunately, Rufio is not real. He's imaginary. A fake. Like a made up friend, the way fairies are. You continue to be sad and alone.

BRIGHT: Eurgh.

Let me be clear: Tavros having no further recourse to deal with Vriska’s abuse beyond his visualised self-esteem is a problem for the character, but it’s not necessarily a narrative problem per se. Escapism is a thing. You could get a decent character arc out of Tavros learning better ways to deal with harassment he can’t escape. It is a narrative problem when the narrator mocks it and makes him out to be pathetic for even trying it.

CHEL: I’d consider this to be just Tavros’ own thought process, but, sadly, this kind of narrative sneering at him carries on throughout Tavros’ presence in the comic and the fandom seems to buy into it. Tavros gets a lot of hate for reasons which mostly boil down to him being a male abuse victim; there’s a feeling that he should “try harder” to fight back, despite him being physically disabled and a member of a caste out of sight beneath her on the social ladder and legally permitted to be killed by her on a whim. Might that count as a point for WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM, for Huss and the fandom not taking the social dynamics into account for why Tavros can’t defend himself?

BRIGHT: I don’t know if it’s fair to count against the fandom when we’re reviewing Homestuck proper, but we can definitely count against Hussie!

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 36

CHEL: It’s also notable that the common fandom interpretation of Tavros is as Hispanic-coded, at least partly due to his Spanish username, and of Vriska as white-coded. That’s probably not helping.

Since Hussie appears to expect us to agree with Vriska that this is funny, I’m adding another to these as well.

ALL THE LUCK: 2 CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 45 IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 3

BRIGHT: What’s weird about this whole mess is that Hussie doesn’t — yet — try to say that Tavros should be trying to get stronger; his disability is fully acknowledged. I feel like this kind of mockery is usually accompanied by the attitude that disabled people should just get over their disability, but Hussie’s clear that Tavros can’t. Which means he should do...what, exactly?

CHEL: Not have let Vriska disable him in the first place, presumably. Never mind that, you know, she has mind control powers so he didn’t really have a choice in that either. That is, however, an argument Vriska fans actually make. Apparently some of them actually blame him for not flying when she threw him off the cliff, which… well, unpowered flight is a thing that can happen in the comic but he certainly couldn’t do it then.

BRIGHT: ...Apparently I retain the capacity for surprise at how awful people can be. The fuck?

Back in the comic, Tavros fortunately does have one other means of recourse. Back in her hive, Vriska is suddenly prodded in the back with a flying toilet, courtesy of Kanaya.

GA: Just Presenting A Floating Reminder That Tavros Will Need Plenty Of Inclined Surfaces For His Ascent AG: That's silly. I made so many ramps, you wouldn't even 8elieve it. AG: I specifically decided I wanted to 8uild something ugly and 8oring. It is now the land of ramps and yawns. GA: Hes Reported Otherwise AG: That lousy snitch! May8e I should take his computer away so he can't go crying to fussyfangs anymore. GA: Maybe I Should Upend This Load Gaper Over Your Head AG: No, don't! GA: Im Still Learning The Interface GA: It Could Happen Accidentally At Any Moment AG: I'm only trying to help him. ::::( GA: Think Of Another Way To Help

CHEL: Did I mention Kanaya is my zodiac troll? I can only long to reach her heights of awesome. Of course the ability to levitate toilets would kinda help.

BRIGHT: Vriska heads down to her treasure vault and retrieves a pair of ROCKET SHOES. The captchalogue code for these is ‘PSHOOOES’, which amuses me greatly. Vriska sends the code to Tavros, who combines it with the code for his wheelchair to create a flying wheelchair. Now that is a good use of alchemising!

CHEL: Awww!

Tavros flies up to the Gate, and we cut back to him later on, leading an entourage of communed-with imps and ogres to move obstacles and help him solve puzzles. Using his skills well, I see! In another set of ruins the imps load jigsaw pieces of rock into a frog-shaped alcove,

Things, however, don’t continue to go so well, because Hussie hates this poor kid. I do not mean that facetiously. Statements he’s made elsewhere imply he has a hell of a lot of contempt for several of the characters he created, which I don’t understand at all. We’ll go into this after Act 7, but I get the sensation that the characters are merely tools to show off the complexity and meta references, which are the parts he really cares about.

BRIGHT: It’s not unknown for authors to dislike characters they wrote; the great Terry Pratchett reputedly hated his character Rincewind. The key difference is that in Pratchett’s case, the audience couldn’t tell. Hussie, on the other hand, tends to make his disdain pretty obvious, to the detriment of the story.

CHEL: That’s a point. Conan Doyle grew to hate Sherlock Holmes, too. He didn’t, however, set up situations solely to shit on Holmes in his books.

BRIGHT: I think that’s the key. I’ll forgive a multitude of failings as long as the author seems to be treating the characters fairly. That doesn’t mean that good things have to happen to them — plenty of bad things can happen and I’ll enjoy it — it just means that the author has to...respect how the character feels and would behave, I guess.

Of course, respect is Hussie’s antithesis, so.

Also, nothing so far has shown Vriska to be anything other than a (granted, entertaining) bully. I wasn’t around while Homestuck was updating, so I’m not sure when her fandom took off, but it has to be later than this, surely?

CHEL: I don’t know. I wasn’t around till about mid-Act 6.

What was I on about? Oh yes. Tavros is interrupted by Vriska again, who bitches him out for doing things the boring way and seeking the boring lore.

AG: The minds of your consorts are very soft and impressiona8le. AG: As easily manipul8ed as all those imps you've 8een 8ossing around. AG: I have picked apart their tiny little lizard 8rains and seen through all the smoke and mirrors of their riddles. AG: I have gotten to the truth they are guarding. The great 8ig mystery 8ehind this planet. And you know what it is, Tavros? AT: nO, AG: It's 8ullshit! AG: Meaningless, 8oring, fanciful 8ullshit wrapped in flowery poems to keep you guessing. AG: It all leads to one thing anyway, and that's what we should put our attention on. AG: Real gamers cut to the chase. They power through all the nonsense and go for the gold. AG: They cheat, Tavros. AG: It is time you learned to start cheating.

Interesting theory. Tavros thinks befriending his monsters instead of killing them is cheating, and Vriska grudgingly agrees but is annoyed he isn’t killing anything. She claims to have designed a better and more challenging quest for him; he asks after her own quest, and she says she has time because Kanaya’s busy.

AG: Which is just as well 8ecause I was starting to get nannied HARD. WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 37

Strange word choice for a species raised by animals, but okay. Vriska sends Tavros a map to the next Gate, and he sets off in his little rocket chair. Little does he know.

You proceed through what seems to be your second gate, into the LAND OF MAPS AND TREASURE. The THIEF OF LIGHT lies in wait.

In a callback to our last meeting of Breath and Light players, Tavros crashes through Vriska’s wall and is left hanging upside-down in the rocket chair from the large cobwebs across the room, while Vriska sleeps on a pile of broken eight-balls. Doesn’t look comfortable, but trolls rest in worse places later. Vriska wakes, and Tavros falls head-first onto the floor.

Here is where it gets incredibly uncomfortable, and we have to show it in detail to assign points properly and so that there’s no ambiguity about what’s happening, so if you have any sexual assault, ableism, underage, mind control, or victim-blaming triggers you may want to skip this part. No clothing is removed but it’s very unpleasant to read and the attitude toward it is worse. Seriously, this is Taklamakan Zoo levels of bad.

(This heading below’s not part of the comic, I just put it there so you can skip. The sequence ends with the piece of fanart of Kanaya looking at the sideways screen.)

~*THE ASSAULT STARTS HERE*~

Vriska sits up. She’s wearing a very short strappy white Tinkerbell dress with her sign on it, and what look like over-the-knee socks, a commonly fetishised style of clothing. I remind you these characters are supposed to be thirteen years old. The dress is also the same as the one worn by the fairy in the artwork on Tavros’ desktop background. I don’t know if Vriska had seen that or not.

FAILURE ARTIST:

To be fair she’s just in an actually-more-modest version of what Peter Pan’s sidekick/love interest wears and the socks come off as more dorky than sexy.

Oh my! It appears Pupa Pan himself has flown through your window while you were asleep. How exciting! Surely he is here to take you away on the adventure of a lifetime. He is more dreamy and heroic than you ever imagined. But what's this?? It seems the legendary Boy-Skylark has misplaced his shadow. He is looking EVERYWHERE for it, to no avail. He is having a devil of a time, what with being paralyzed from the waist down and all. He clearly needs your help.

CHEL: Vriska is prompted to Help Pupa find shadow, and approaches Tavros with a nasty-looking grin on her face, while he lies on the floor, gritting his teeth in noticeable pain.

Pupa! You truly are a silly goose. Your shadow has been trapped underneath your useless torso the whole time! Honestly, where else would it be you stupid sack of shit?

Charming. Vriska proceeds to kick him in the head, or at least nudge him with her foot, while he lies unresponsive.

Of course, the secret to reuniting with your shadow is to get up and walk around. And play and dance and frolic! Your shadow will surely join in your gaiety. But it appears Pupa has lost the use of his legs. There will be no frolicking in this young man's future. ::::( Unless...

Everyone knows that just a pinch of SPECIAL STARDUST along with a happy thought will allow any boy to get up and walk again. Everyone knows this because it is in the classic tale, PUPA PAN. Young Pupa flies through the window of a fairy girl's respiteblock, falls on the floor, and has trouble getting up like an enormous pansy. The fairy girl then helps him walk again, and in return, he teaches her to fly, even though she probably already knows how to fly. Because she's a fairy. They fly out of her window together, and have magical adventures for many sweeps thereafter. To be honest, you hardly know a damn thing about Pupa Pan. But you do not care.

Pupa remains as pathetic and useless as ever.

FAILURE ARTIST: The story just keeps mocking Tavros for being disabled.

CHEL: Not to mention for being interested in fairies. Because how dare a boy have a gender-nonstandard interest, or a young teenager enjoy whimsical escapism from an increasingly horrible and guaranteed-to-be-short life.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 39

I might be projecting because the fandom has made me loathe her, but it honestly comes off like Vriska dressed up like this in the first place less to seduce Tavros and more to make sure she thoroughly ruined his favourite thing to hurt him further, especially if the narration is supposed to be things she’s actually saying to him.

The stardust did nothing! Probably because it is just glittery powder with no magical properties whatsoever and is basically bullshit. Because in case it wasn't clear, magic isn't real, and neither are miracles. OR It could just be that Pupa has failed to have a happy thought! Your duty is clear. You will have to MAKE him have happy thoughts. Vriska: Make Pupa have happy thoughts.

He certainly doesn’t seem to be having happy thoughts now. Notice his expression, what we can see of it, looks terrified, he’s trembling, and let’s recall that he’s paralysed from the waist down. Even if he wasn’t, she’s of a far, far higher caste than him, legally permitted to do whatever she wants to him, including killing him if he tries to resist. It’s kind of gone back and forth on, but higher bloods are a few times stated to be a lot stronger than lower bloods, and if they work like humans, they’re in puberty right now, a time at which human girls tend to get taller and stronger sooner than boys. Again, it’s gone back and forth on, but a common interpretation is that female trolls are stronger than male trolls in general and/or have the social power advantage. Let’s also remember that, even if none of those factors apply, Vriska has mind control powers. There is no point here at which Tavros has the advantage, nothing he can use as leverage on her. She can do whatever the hell she wants, and she does.

BRIGHT: We’ve also been explicitly shown that Vriska has little to no respect for anyone else’s autonomy if she finds it inconvenient, and that Tavros is her favourite punching bag, and that his ability to stand up for himself when she gets going is extremely limited.

CHEL: Despite the odds stacked against him, Tavros struggles against the kiss forced on him, and when Vriska pushes him back, doesn’t respond with anything but a look of horror, though she appears to expect him to, as a flickering heart-spade with a question mark over it appears between them. I’m not sure whether that’s supposed to be the thought process of him or her or both.

Vriska hurls him onto the floor with some force...

… and activates her mind control, causing little hearts to light up in Tavros’ eyes.

BRIGHT: Vriska has used her mind-control powers on Tavros before, and when it happened she walked him off a cliff. There is basically no way that her doing it again isn’t going to be a traumatic experience for him, above and beyond the inherent horror of losing control over one’s body.

I’m inclined to think that forcibly altering his emotions is worse, though. Being paralysed was bad enough, but Tavros knows what happened and he knows how he feels about it. Making him fall in love with her is just…on one level, it’s a horrible assault on his autonomy as a person, and on another level, it’s tailor-made to make him doubt himself and believe the encounter was something he wanted.

FAILURE ARTIST: I hadn’t thought that he might now consider the encounter as consensual, which would explain his later reaction.

CHEL: Tavros paws at her legs, making kissy faces, and she looks vaguely concerned. Note the background still depicts wavy blue rays coming off her, showing her power is still active.

Looking defeated, she drops the control and dumps him on the floor again.

I’m not sure what she’s supposed to be thinking in this last panel. Is she feeling guilty? Is she disappointed that he didn’t like her under his own power? Has she just decided he’s too useless to be worth the effort? Any could be true.

BRIGHT: I read that as disappointment that even when he ‘liked’ her, he didn’t act the way she wanted. (And the way Tavros acted is kind of disturbing. ‘Mindlessly pawing at someone’ is not what I’d expect from him if he was legitimately attracted to someone.)

FAILURE ARTIST: The common interpretation these days was she was realizing she wasn’t into boys which okay that’s good for her but she should feel more bad about molesting him.

CHEL: That also makes no sense, because she shows interest in multiple boys later.

I’m also not entirely sure if Vriska had the intention of actually raping Tavros here (in the standard way, I mean, as one could argue that mind control is a form of rape), or just making out with him. The fact that she dressed up in vaguely fetishy clothing isn’t making it look good, though. Yes, she’s very young, but traumatised kids in particular have been known to lash out sexually like that. It’s a way of reasserting personal power, and I imagine it would be more prevalent in a society with no sapient adult supervision. While there are mitigating circumstances involved in their social situation and Vriska not really having ever had a chance to learn better, that doesn’t make this not a horrible thing to do, or not traumatising for Tavros.

BRIGHT: The clothing could potentially be down to Vriska wanting to look ‘adult’ without fully understanding why it looks adult. That does come up sometimes with teens — they want to experiment with clothing because that’s how adults dress, not because they want to look sexy, or they might dress a certain way for dates because that’s the social model they have for How Dates Work.

And if I read it like that, this basically looks like Vriska having the date equivalent of a dolls’ tea party. Which says volumes about how she views Tavros’s autonomy.

CHEL: Good point. Though honestly it would say volumes about same either way!

BRIGHT: I said earlier that Vriska is better than Equius at recognising when other people’s desires conflict with hers, and she is, but that doesn’t mean she respects those differences. She just recognises that they’re there, and overrides them. This is a prime example of Vriska viewing Tavros as something between a chew-toy and a prop. First she kicks him around and terrifies him, then she expects him to be able to get over those emotions at the drop of a hat and respond to her advances — and, moreover, she wants him to respond in a certain way, which Tavros has zero way of knowing. This is the first time she’s shown that sort of interest in him, unless her earlier behaviour was the Alternian equivalent of pigtail-pulling.

...I think maybe that was in fact Alternian pigtail-pulling. Or at least Vriska’s version of pigtail-pulling.

CHEL: That’ll actually make more sense, once we explain what the spade symbol means.

Okay, how many counts does this cover?

ALL THE LUCK: 12 ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 31 CALL CPA PLEASE: 26 CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 55 IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 13

It also occurred to me during this sequence to think again about how Karkat contemptuously swears at and hangs up the phone on the injured Tavros. This, at first glance, seems to be very much at odds with the “cranky but caring” impression we’re supposed to have of Karkat… but it fits precisely with Hussie’s opinion of Tavros and how pathetic he is for allowing a much more powerful person to permanently disable him. I know at the moment it looks like I’m not separating the character from the author, but it’ll become clear as we go that that is what he thinks.

IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 14

Why didn’t we start a FUCK YOU, HUSSIE count?

BRIGHT: It would have ended up longer than all the other counts combined.

CHEL: The actual assault is over now, but there’s one more picture of it. The ramifications must continue to be discussed, so tread cautiously. The actual act is over now, though.

Said ramifications come pretty quickly. Kanaya, having dealt with getting herself into the game and prototyped her own lususprite, decides to check on Vriska.

Ideally she has not gotten herself into too much trouble. And ideally the dramatic irony has not gotten so thick you could draw a dotted line on it with a tube of lipstick and cut it in half with a chainsaw.

Of course, she sees the exact moment Vriska kisses Tavros.

(Fanart source has now been deleted, sadly.)

~*THE ASSAULT ENDS HERE*~

Humorous art aside over, let’s watch Kanaya’s reaction in more detail. She angrily looks at a copy of the Tinkerbell dress, which she presumably sent the alchemiter code for rather than the actual item to Vriska, hence why she still has it.

So THAT'S why she had you make this dress for her??? And you just went along with it like a sucker. Argh, you are such an IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Like Karkat, Kanaya is presented as the caring one, the protective one. The “mom friend” of the group. And yet, she looks at this, in which Tavros is clearly frightened and struggling, and her reaction is to be mad that Vriska didn’t want to wear the dress for a date with her. I’m not sure whether this says more about Hussie’s opinion of Tavros or the social system of Alternia or both, but it certainly says a lot.

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 56 HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 13 IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 15

BRIGHT: Kanaya has had to corral Vriska on Tavros’s behalf already! Possibly more than once! She has all the information to realise that this is abusive, even leaving aside Tavros’s reaction! Sure, teens can be self-centred, but even so this is egregious.

CHEL: Kanaya’s Grubsprite comforts her and she throws the dress out the window.

Being a kid and growing up. It's hard and nobody understands.

Yes, I’m sure Tavros thinks so too.

Charles: "I know Sir can be prickly, but you have to understand he had a very terrible childhood."

Klaus: "I understand. I'm having a very terrible childhood right now."

-A Series of Unfortunate Events

#homestuck #homestuck review #homestuck meta #homestuck reread #let's read homestuck #Homespork

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srhlsx · 4 years

Text

Rewritten & Reposted March 23, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 1 | CHAPTER 2 | Ch. 3

Daiki spoke up after the two newcomers introduced themselves. “(Y/n) and Rumi are third years too,” He interrupted himself with a small burp, causing Rumi to look at him in pure horror and you to bite back a chuckle of your own.

“Oh, nice.” Bokuto nodded along with Kuroo. “Are you both in a club then?”

What. You blinked once very slowly.

“Dude, they both pl-”

“Ah ah ah.” You immediately held up a hand in Daiki’s face to keep him from speaking any further. “Yes. We are in a club. But that’s not what is important.”

Rumi shook her head with a dark chuckle and quickly downed her drink. She mumbled something about finding more games to play before turning to walk back into the house you originally came from. (“This is fucking boring” was an exact quote.) The boy with bedhead hair, who you came to know as Kuroo, followed after her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You shook your head as you watched after them, turning back and intending to strike up a new conversation with your schoolmates but all you were met with were their retreating backs. Daiki’s hands were moving dangerously low on Mako’s waist as they blended into the sea of people.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” You turned to face the stranger standing before you, looking up and really noticing his golden eyes for the second time since he introduced himself.

You bit into your bottom lip and dragged your thumb across the skin as you leaned your weight onto your right leg as you gave him a once over. He was tall, much taller than you were, and lean. Not lean in the not-done-growing, can’t-control-your-limbs type of way; but lean in the sense that it was clear he was an athlete. His shoulders were broad and full under the athletic t-shirt he wore. His legs were long and you could tell there was thick muscle on them, even under the pair of baggy black joggers he had on.

But beyond the fact that he was built like an absolute racehorse, the most eye-catching parts of him weren’t even below his shoulders.

His smile had enough electricity to power a small town for at least a year, and that was a fact. His eyes, a shade of gold you’d never seen before - and were sure you’d never see again - looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that was worthy of holding his gaze. Then his hair - a wild cluster of bi-colored, thick locks that stuck up straight in all directions - screaming for your hands to reach up and run your fingers through them just to get an idea of if they were as soft as they appeared to be.

“Could be worse,” You finally responded after your thorough examination of his entire physique. It was pretty blatant that you had been checking him out, you might as well have asked him to wipe the drool from your mouth.

In any normal situation, the act of a girl so obviously checking him out wouldn’t send Bokuto into any kind of fit. In fact, he didn’t typically even notice those kinds of things happening. But with this girl who he just met before him, he couldn’t help the feeling of his heart clutching almost painfully in his chest. He cleared his throat, shaking his head just enough to clear away the haze he had found himself in and braced his hand against the wall of breezeblocks you both stood near. Bokuto was not trying to be subtle as he beamed down at you, opting to take a step closer.

“(Y/n)...” He said your name in a tone you were sure you’d never get sick of hearing. “I feel like I’ve heard of you somewhere before.”

“I get that a lot,” You smirked, squinting your eyes up at him as you kept your answer vague. He easily could’ve heard your name in a number of different places, but you weren’t going to confirm or deny anything - it was too fun to toy with him instead.

“So you go to school with Daiki?” He asked, resting one hand in the waistband of his pants, making his t-shirt ride up just slightly. His other hand rested on the wall right by where you were leaning your weight against, making his body angle towards you and close the distance just a little bit more.

It only took you a brief moment to realize that he was moving intentionally closer to you in what he probably thought was a smooth move. You made an exaggerated grimace on your face, acting as if the thought of the mentioned boy made you sick. “Unfortunately, I do. Been with the kid since primary school.”

“Tough luck.”

“You’re telling me.” You nodded with a laugh, looking out to the throng of people at the party who seemed to only be getting further and further away from sobriety. “Do you need a drink or something? You can have mine, I’m done for the night.”

“Are you trying to take advantage of me?” Bokuto asked, raising your cup and taking a long swig of the drink. You were impressed he didn’t even flinch as the beer in the cup was stale, flat, and cheap.

“You should be so lucky,” You shook your head and jokingly poked a finger into his chest, a solid excuse to confirm that yes those muscles were as thick as they looked. “But no, I’ve got somewhere to be after this.”

“More studying?”

“Ouch okay,” You laughed. “It’s like that then?”

“Oh yeah, it’s like that.”

Your conversation stilled at that point. You definitely felt like a mutual interest was there between you and Bokuto, a pull towards one another, but the awkwardness of having no idea who each other even were overwhelmed you and left you in silence. You wanted to talk to him more, something about him just made you want to be around him.

“Mako said you all were visiting for camp this week. You must play then?” Smooth, really smooth.

“Huh?” He started, shaking his head like he’d been in a dream before looking down at his shirt where you were pointing. “Ah, yeah! You know volleyball? Do you manage with Mako? Are you new this year?”

“I do not, but I’m familiar with the sport.” You responded vaguely to his onslaught of questions, not trying to let onto anything one way or the other. “Fukurodani...You guys went to nationals last year, yeah?”

“We did!” He said, eyes somehow lighting up even more than they had before. “One of my good buddies Akaashi is our setter, he’s so awesome, and I’m-”

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already bragging?” The smooth voice of Bokuto’s friend returning dragged your attention away momentarily.

“Did Rumi turn you down?” You smirked with a raised eyebrow, knowing exactly how the conversation probably went.

“Brutally.” Kuroo chuckled.

Bokuto straightened up, looking like a scolded puppy. “She asked about the camp and I was just saying-”

“I’m sure it was brought up so organically,” Kuroo rolled his eyes, slinging an arm over Bokuto’s shoulders and leaning down closer to talk to you. “Did he also casually bring up the fact he’s a top five ace in the country?”

You looked up to Bokuto with knowing eyes, “I’m well aware of who he is.”

“Well, I mean-” Bokuto began to talk, stumbling over his words a little bit but never losing that air of pride he held. After a moment he stopped, realizing what you had said. “You what?”

“I don’t live under a rock,” You laughed at him, shifting positions to rest your chin in your hand like you were deep in thought. “It’s a real crime they didn’t put you in the top three, in my opinion, although I guess after Interhigh and how Ojiro-kun performed you can’t deny he deserved to be moved up.”

Bokuto and Kuroo stared at you for a moment. You were waiting for the points to click, for each of them to realize why exactly you knew so much about volleyball beyond just being friends with Daiki. When it didn’t seem like the connection was going to happen, you let out a soft laugh.

“But top five is really impressive!” You said, unconsciously reaching out to grab Bokuto’s arm and ever so slightly squeezing the muscles under your hand flexed and tensed, but when you saw the look in his eyes you could tell he was anything but uncomfortable. “Definitely the highest ranking player I personally know… At least for guys.” You added the last bit of your statement with a shrug, like an afterthought.

Bokuto practically preened with satisfaction at that point.

You’d normally be turned off by someone so completely oblivious to the things you were saying, but the boy in front of you held an endearing aspect about him. It could also be because of the look of pride he had when you complimented him, like the words you were saying specifically were what he had been searching for the entire time.

You felt a rhythmic buzzing in the pocket of your bag as Bokuto and Kuroo started to pick up another conversation. Studying the screen of your phone for a moment before answering, you turned away slightly from the two boys. Bokuto’s hand grazed your arm as you stepped away, the feeling of his eyes lingering on you from behind was something you also noticed.

“Hi Eiji,” You greeted into the device. “...Seriously? Ah shit, no... no. Tell her no, I’m leaving now.”

You appreciated that they quieted their conversation as you were on the phone, but the thumping of the party music really made no difference. The call was short and you looked up to each of them as you ended it with a heavy sigh.

You turned back to the two guys, a calm but mildly frazzled look on your face. “If you see Rumi, can you tell her I left?”

“Yeah, of course” Kuroo waved a hand in front of his face, brushing off your request like it was nothing.

You gave his arm a gentle squeeze in thanks, then turning to Bokuto. “It was really good to meet you.”

You started to attempt making your way through the thick mass of bodies crowding around the house when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist lightly and pull you back.

“We barely got to talk,” Golden eyes stared down at you, showing a little bit of sadness mixed with an odd amount of excitement. “Can I get your number or something?”

“Ah, ha.” You laughed, reaching up and patting his cheek with a wink of your eye. “We’ll probably see each other again sooner than you think.”

At that you turned, having spotted Rumi distantly in the crowd and making your way to her. You couldn’t help but laugh with her as the two of you made your way around the house to leave the party, Bokuto swore he could hear Rumi say something along the lines of “He seriously had no idea?” and you simply shrugged and let out a big belly laugh as you waved a hand back at him over the crowd.

Not a moment later, Daiki returned looking to where both Kuroo and Bokuto’s eyes were watching your retreating forms. “I’m actually shocked she came out tonight,” He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “But I guess I would want to celebrate as much as I could, too.”

Bokuto slowly turned away, eyes not leaving your figure until you were well out of sight. “Whaddya mean?” He mumbled, mind still clouded with thoughts of this strange girl he met.

“Seriously?” Daiki asked, face scrunching up in disbelief as he took a drink from the cup he was holding. “You didn’t recognize either of them?”

Bokuto simply shook his head while Kuroo seemed to finally come to the realization. “No shit,” He mumbled, looking back in the direction you and Rumi disappeared to.

“What?” Bokuto asked, desperate to get some clarity.

“(Y/n) and Rumi both start on the girl’s team at Shinzen,” Daiki said slowly, both to humor Bokuto and because of the alcohol he was continuing to consume. “They, like… just won Interhigh. (y/n) is top rank-”

Daiki’s voice was lost in the shuffle of Bokuto’s mind. He felt like an idiot. He watched that game, how did he not recognize you?

#bokuto koutaro #koutaro bokuto #fukorodani #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!!#hq #haikyu reader insert #haikyuu reader insert

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sunnygaybitch · 4 years

Text

Ok the ask got deleted so @thelxckblog asked me:

I WANT TO KNOW MORE. How is Abed with the rest of the losers??? How does the study group respond to Abed suddenly dating Richie TrashMouth- HOW DOES TROY RESPOND??? Does Troy think Richie is hilarious and is like Abed it's so cool you have this guy as a friend and Abed is like it is cool, but he's my boyfriend. And Troy is instantly /Cool! I hate him./

Here’s my response:

I feel like all the Losers would like Abed. They recognize him as one of their own. Like that meme: “self recognition through the other.” They were losers back in the day and proudly reclaimed the title, Abed was a loser in his school days and ended up with “self esteem falling out of [his] butt.” And I think Abed would feel the same way about them. I said before that when Richie, Bill, and Abed are simply coworkers, they’re friendly with each other, but aren’t exactly friends, because Richie and Bill (and all the Losers tbh) have a hard time forming connections outside of their little group, and because Abed has a pretty aloof manner. But when he and Richie start fake dating, Richie and Bill bring him right into the friend group. He’s going to have to spend a lot of time with Richie after all, and spending a lot of time with Richie means spending a lot of time with his friends. So in this particular scenario, with Richie and Bill greasing the wheels, the other Losers have a much easier time calling Abed an actual friend. Even Eddie, who is insanely jealous because he could have totally done this fake relationship thing, what do you mean he has his own shit to deal with that shouldn’t be thrown into a potential media circus, can’t help but like Abed. Honestly I might make a separate post detailing his friendships with each and every Loser. What am I saying, of course I will, or at least - I will if I remember to jskds.

Honestly, Shirley has no idea who Richie is when Abed first starts talking about working with him. All she knows is what Abed has told her, and she’s content to leave it at that until Abed invites the Study Group to his apartment to tell them that he has a fake boyfriend now, because while I think Abed would love the fake relationship trope and would want to carry it out to the fullest, I think he’d also want to share the adventure with his friends. Maybe Abed in the early seasons would have been happy to completely fool everyone, but 2017 Abed? Who’s gone out into the world and made his way and yet still thinks of his friends all the time and is still hoping Troy will one day come back? Yeah, I think that Abed would want them in on the scheme. Anyway, Shirley doesn’t know shit about Richie Tozier, but after Abed tells them of the Plan, she looks him up and tells Abed to be careful. Because while Richie Tozier has had a hard time of it, what with staying in the closet for 40 years and never being able to be true to himself, and he seems nice enough in person, if a little loud, well - her first priority is Abed, and if this comedian drags him down in any way due to his issues or the way paparazzi sometimes follow him around, then Shirley is going to beat his pale ass to kingdom come. She tells Richie so too, and he’s a little in awe of Shirley after that slkdfhls.

Jeff is aware of who Richie is in that way that you can’t help but be aware of some celebrities simply because they seem to pop up all the time. He doesn’t really care about him though - for real doesn’t care, not that “i don’t care but really i do” thing he always does - and when Abed starts working with him, he simply thinks it’s cool that Abed works with actual famous people (though he’d never say that in so many words). When Abed tells their group that he and Richie are fake dating, he’s highly amused and vaguely concerned, because this could go wrong in several ways. Maybe Abed will get too into the scheme and start to think he’s developing feelings, or maybe this comedian guy who’s never dated a guy, much less one as admittedly charismatic as Abed, will end up falling for him for real. Or maybe they’ll both end up falling for each other, only to have it blow up in their faces later, because isn’t that just how most relationships go? But in the end, Jeff does trust that Abed can handle himself, so he just claps him on the back and discreetly (but not really that discreetly) keeps a wary eye on Richie and Abed. Just to be safe. Richie just kind of takes this in stride and resolves to poke fun at Jeff every so often because it’s Jeff. He deserves to be taken down a few pegs at all times.

Britta is very aware of who the Trashmouth is. She was definitely part of a Facebook group that was just people dunking on him for his sexist and borderline homophobic jokes, and then when he came out, was briefly one of the people who thought it was fake before joining the increasingly loud crowd who said, “Good for him for coming out, but that doesn’t mean we should excuse everything he’s said before.” After he issues a public apology and announces that he’s turning over a new leaf, she decides to follow his official account on Twitter so as to keep up to date with all the Richie “potential bi icon” Tozier news. When Abed starts working with him, she manages to stop herself from constantly asking about him, though a few questions slip through here and there. She also finds out that Richie and Abed are dating before anyone else, because the first thing Richie was ordered to do after gaining a fake boyfriend was to post a coupley pic of them with an equally coupley caption. She calls Abed right away to confirm if it’s true, but he ignores her call(s) in favor of sending her a text telling her when to come over to his apartment, because he has some big news. When Abed says that it’s simply a PR stunt, Britta is very briefly disappointed before deciding that actually, the mature, good-friend thing to do would be to wholeheartedly support Abed’s decision, which you know, it technically is. But it’s Britta. She veers into overenthusiastic territory a lot, though everyone can tell that her heart is in the right place, so they just poke their usual fun at her and don’t give her too much shit for it. Richie, ever the Trashmouth, makes it a point to see how often he can get a rise out of her, much to Jeff’s delight.

Annie, much like Jeff, knows who Richie is mostly because she’s a person with an internet connection. She was never a fan of his former comedy, and when he comes out, she internally wishes him the best of luck and moves on with her day. She congratulates Abed on working with such famous personalities, but again, it’s not that big a deal to her. It’s when the fake dating starts that she really starts to keep a keen eye on Richie. Because Richie is 40 years old. Richie probably has several midlife crises under his belt, not including the one that made him decide to come out. Richie has nearly ten years on Abed, and yes, she knows Abed can handle himself, but she’s still protective of him, because he can fake his way through most social interactions but that doesn’t mean he’s really processing them in the moment. It doesn’t mean that he’s not going to end up hurt by an older man (kind of like Jeff managed to hurt her, and ok, she has long moved past that, and maybe Abed isn’t a fresh faced eighteen year old, but Troy was right when he said Abed’s eyes were gentle and mysterious. They make her want to keep him close and make sure that the only people that come near him are the right people, and those can only be determined with a complicated vetting process). But Abed still doesn’t like being told what to do, and honestly, neither does she, so she can respect that and she can respect his choices and be nice to Richie Tozier. But she’s always watching. Richie, who is more observant than he lets on, notices, but figures that as Abed’s friend, she’s earned the right to be cautious on his behalf. He’d do the same for any of the Losers, after all.

And Troy. Troy gets his own post dkfhs.

#it x community #richie and abed fake date au

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lethbians · 4 years

Note

can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts.

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention.

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable with “notsfw” and “bill hader”.

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs.

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves.

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over.

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag.

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti.

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself.

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog).

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine.

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts.

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again.

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content.

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning.

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves.

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree).

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen.

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19.

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in).

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry.

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has.

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink.

#discourse #biphobia tw #transphobia tw #rape tw #ok goodbye im done with this im back to #only posting gay clown movie #Anonymous

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falloutforties · 4 years

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Five Years (Deacon x Sole)

CHAPTER ONE: TOTAL ATOMIC ANNIHILATION!

Description: The second she crawled out of that vault, dead cockroach meat in her pocket and tongue still not completely thawed, she knew she didn’t have to lie anymore. No more candy-striped wallpaper coating the halls, no more perfect wife and mother. She was no one. She was everyone. She didn’t sugarcoat her feelings, she didn’t hold her tongue. And it wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate that honesty, it’s that he had to mix in his honesty with a little sweet prevarication, like rum and coke-- but she was straight vodka, and he was starting to feel a little dizzy. Set in a world in which David Bowie did exist at one time, because the author can’t imagine a world in which he didn’t.

Warnings: Swearing and some fighting as well, but aside from that, no real warnings. I’m shit at writing angst, so there’s none of that. Slow burn, all chapters already written, hopefully one chapter a week unless grad school totally swamps me. Also, there are several elements of this story that are little fix-its for me, because todd really made me try to care about a son and husband smh. I was running around the wasteland like “why does everybody keep talking about my son? The only son I know is named Dogmeat, and he is a Good Boy.” ALSO because todd won’t let me romance Deacon.

Note from the Author: Hi folks! I wrote this to help me get through my writing block and because I needed a lil comfort in these trying times, so I figured I would make this blog to share it. I’m in the process of also putting it on ao3, but this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written so I’m not sure how this all works. I hope y’all enjoy!!!! This story gets started a little slow because I wanted to give an introduction for how I interpret the sole survivor’s personality and such. Pls let me know if you like this, and if you want to read more!! Love you!! <3

When she woke up in the morning, she knew the exact percentage of how likely she was to die that day, down to the decimal. It was not like a superpower, per se, just a sixth sense. An awareness, she might call it. She was incredibly aware of herself.

She couldn’t sense this clearly in other people, though she did have a sense of it. A vague direction as to how closely they’ll come to seeing their entire life flash before their eyes. She had seen it once or twice in Nate’s eyes over the breakfast table— a tint of green in his brown eyes that wasn’t there the day before, almost like a warning.

Something’s going to happen. It might not be bad, or it might be terrible. But it’s something.

She watched him turn his nose up at the box of Sugar Bombs sat on the countertop, favoring instead a cup of coffee and half a tato. She waited patiently for him to start his bi-weekly diatribe against the Sugar Bombs Corporation and their devious aims against the children of the Commonwealth.

“Did you know there’s a Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing?” He’d mentioned, several months ago for the first time. She was honestly just excited to hear that he’d managed to establish a new argument, though she wasn’t convinced that the Sugar Bombs factory in Beijing was a direct link to Childhood Communism as much as it was just outright standard capitalism.

When he finally settled at the table with his half-tato in one hand, coffee in the other, and Boston Bugle folded neatly under his arm, she watched his eyes. He was looking a little green, and she wondered errantly if perhaps he’d be scraped by a car while crossing the street. She herself, however, was at a solid 15%, which was a little higher than her standard measurements, but nothing out of the ordinary or concerning. Perhaps she would break a finger, sprain her ankle, crack a tooth on a Nuka-Cola bottle.

She appreciated the extra air of danger.

Life in Sanctuary was beautifully but painfully dull, less dull now that there was a child in the house, but dull nonetheless. Now, the stale quiet that usually settled over the house in the afternoon was permeated by the frequent cries and laughs of the child and the exclamations of their brand new housekeeper, who thought the child was a marvel of modern science.

He was, at the very moment his parents were eating breakfast, sleeping in his crib in the back room, the powder blue of his walls shielding him like a personal sky as he went completely unaware of everyone around him. He had the enviable manner of a child, crying whenever he felt a slight discomfort, laughing at the simplest of things.

She wished sometimes she could burst into tears just because she was hungry, or weep at the thought of being sleepy. It had been so long since someone had properly addressed her humanity that she thought if someone held her against their chest, she’d fall asleep, just like the child did at night when she rocked him.

“Mum,” Codsworth chirped as he hovered into the kitchen with a wet rag in one hand and a rattle in the other.

“Morning, Codsworth,” she replied with a mouth full of cereal. She, unlike Nate, was not too good for Sugar Bombs, and if they were implanting Communist Tracking Chips into her brain, well, that was a risk she was going to have to take. As long as she was the one who had to do the grocery shopping, she was not going to deny herself the simple pleasure of marshmallow cereal.

“Young Shaun should be asleep for approximately the next two hours.”

“Thank you, Codsworth.”

Nora loved Codsworth. There were days when she thought of him more as a husband than Nate. Codsworth, in his thrumming metallic voice, asked her everyday how she was feeling. Nate sometimes quirked his brow at her, and she nodded in response, but their marital conversation was frustratingly dry.

Like Sugar Bombs without milk.

Chip Harris was grandstanding on the news, and his thick croon filled the background of the house with a pleasant sort of domestic white noise along with the gentle clink of her silverware and the crinkling of Nate’s paper. She tuned her ears for a moment to Chip’s voice as he read from a teleprompter about some new information about China’s secret nuclear plants.

Everyone has nukes nowadays, she thought bitterly. Her Sugar Bombs were now soggy. Why are we allowed to hide them, but China has to send us a report or else we accuse them of some kind of crime?

She absentmindedly wondered if having a crush on the newscaster might turn her into more of a nuclear housewife. She knew Natalie Hawthorne had a crush on Chip Harris. She watched him every morning, even had a signed picture of him that she kept in her nightstand. Mr. Hawthorne was fine with it, of course, because no one in Sanctuary Hills could even prove that Chip Harris was real. No one could prove that he wasn’t just an incredibly advanced Protectron— a Mr. Handy in a pinstripe suit. Mr. Hawthorne didn’t have to worry about Chip Harris stealing his wife.

A knock on the door broke Nora’s concentration.

“Must be that sales guy,” Nate intoned, obviously bored senseless by the notion of a salesman at the door. “He’s been asking for you all morning.”

“All morning? I didn’t even hear him knock before now.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you sleep until 9 AM.”

Thank you, Nora, for staying up until the Devil’s Ass-Crack of dawn comforting a weeping child. Thank you for feeding him while I put earplugs in and turned over to the cold side of the pillow so I could go back to sleep. I answered the door for you, and the salesman gave me a free ticket to Fuck-Off-Ville, and I’m taking the child with me. You and Codsworth have fun now!

A woman could dream.

The salesman at the door was a weasel-looking fellow with an awfully mustardy-colored coat and matching hat. His smile seemed like it might be genuine, but based on the wrinkles that beamed from the corners of his eyes, it seemed he was well-versed in faking a good smile.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am! I am glad you took the time to answer the door today, because what I am about to tell you is a matter of utmost importance,” he promised, his smile somehow extended as he emphasized utmost importance.

“Utmost importance, huh? Glad I answered the door, then.”

“As you should be. Because of your family’s service in the military, you are eligible for entrance into the local vault— Vault 111!”

She eyed him warily before glancing up towards the hill at the end of the cul-de-sac. She had remembered the day Vault-Tec had started construction into the hillside, promising the neighborhood that “We won’t work until 9 AM, we’ll be gone in a flash, and you and your family will soon be protected in the unlikely event of total atomic annihilation!”

She didn’t buy the working until 9 AM part, she was skeptical about them being gone in a flash, and she hadn’t taken the time to assess the thought of total atomic annihilation. That was something that happened to people in the movies, or on radio shows, not in Sanctuary Hills. Total atomic annihilation might actually spice up her life, if it deigned to come close to Sanctuary Hills.

“Thanks,” she mentioned passively, ignoring the clipboard that was slowly being edged towards her. “My family too?”

“Yes, of course! Except the robot, mind you. Would you mind taking a few moments to fill out some paperwork?”

Nora turned her head to eye the situation inside the house before accepting the clipboard. If the salesman had knocked before, there was no reason to send him away then. He was working hard, and she appreciated the thought if not the persistence.

“Excellent! Now you and your family are… Prepared for the Future!”

She gave a half-hearted laugh at the way he performed his reading of the motto— the Vault-Tec promise that had been broadcasted via billboard all over every cityscape and neighborhood nearby. If total atomic annihilation never came around, Vault-Tec was sure going to look foolish.

She shut the door and sauntered back over to the breakfast table, but just as she sat down, a cry rang through the house. Shaun was awake, and Nate was eyeing her above the folded edge of his paper.

“Mum!” Codsworth chirped once again, hovering back into the kitchen. “Young Shaun seems to be inconsolable. Would you mind using some of that… maternal instinct you seem to be so good at?”

“Sure, Codsworth. Thank you.”

Once the door was closed in Shaun’s little room, she felt a great weight lift from her shoulders. True, she had not liked the child at first, but he was growing on her, and she appreciated the fact that he had to listen to everything she said without commentary or judgement.

“You might be unsure now, but once that beautiful baby boy is handed to you in a pretty blue blanket, you’ll love him more than you’ve ever loved anything,” Natalie Hawthorne had told her at the baby shower in a moment of vulnerability. Nora had escaped the Hawthorne’s living room to cry in their bathroom, marking it up to hormones at first, but the second she looked in the mirror and saw that damned stomach of hers, the crying got worse. Natalie stumbled into the bathroom by accident, catching Nora in the midst of a coughing fit.

So, Nora waited until Shaun was born, and when the nurse handed him to her, she stared at him and felt absolutely nothing. But she cooed and tickled his tiny feet, promising to herself that if she could just get the child home, maybe it would get better. Maybe it was the anesthetic and the drugs that made her so emotionless. It wasn’t.

It was the fact that she hadn’t wanted a child at all, the fact that she hadn’t even really wanted a husband, but her parents had set her up with some soldier boy, fresh out of a set of power armor, and that was that. She would marry Nate because it was what she was supposed to do, not because she had fallen in love.

She adjusted Shaun’s cap before scooping him into her arms.

“What do you have to cry about?” She muttered to the child. “You don’t have to pay taxes. You’re not going to have to wear heels and go grocery shopping and attend baby showers. You’re going to play catch in the backyard with your father, and then one day, some girl will marry you because she has to. You’re set for life, little buddy.”

Shaun merely gargled something, his hands grabbing for her hair. He was like a partially-sentient diary. She would pile her troubles on him, and he would go, “Ah!” And then go back to sleep.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today,” Nate remarked as he stepped into the nursery. “Would you be interested?”

“Sure, sure. Might be nice to get some fresh air.” She had intended to say more, perhaps something about finishing her Halloween preparations, but when she turned to him, she saw his eyes fully for the first time that day, and Shaun nearly slipped from her grasp.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Nate took the child from her arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just… are you feeling alright?”

“Fine. You look pale, though. Maybe it’s all that Chinese Cereal.”

She chuckled despite herself and maintained eye contact with as much focus as she could muster. His eyes were near fully green. She was sure it was nothing. It had to be nothing. They were going for a walk in the park, and besides, her percentage was still standing at a solid 15%. It was nothing.

But Chip Harris knew more than she did, and when Codsworth called them all into the living room, Chip Harris was, for the first time on the air, misty-eyed. His head was in his hands, the morning report discarded as he faced the camera with shaking eyes.

“Shit,” Nora whispered, and Nate scolded her for her foul mouth. “Sorry, I just… is this it?”

“I think this is it.”

“Whatever it is, I will certainly miss you all dearly. Sir, Mum, Young Shaun. I believe this is goodbye.”

Codsworth’s goodbye started her heart thrumming at an unbelievable pace, and she kicked into gear, sweeping herself up from the loveseat and rushing towards the door, ushering Nate and Shaun behind her.

This was it. This was the end of the world, but it wasn’t going to kill her.

#deacon x sole survivor #deacon fo4 #female sole survivor #fallout 4 fanfiction #fo4 fanfic #fallout 4 deacon #fo4 deacon #deacon x nora

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krolock-in-the-snowlock · 4 years

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Part 2 - Broadway’s Dance of the Vampires Commentary

Act 2

• And here we are again, after taking a week or two to recover from act 1

• I have no idea what’s going to happen but I’m gonna finish what I started, no matter what it takes

• Ok the video is ready, I don’t think I am but here we go

• Ok well the opening music was more like titanic than tanz

• Ooh ok we have lots of vague figures on stairs, probably vampires but it’s hard to tell with the 480p video quality

• Hmmm are we having a reprise of totale finsternis?

• That staircase is looking

• Glad to see the audience is cracking up again at the use of total eclipse of the heart

• Those couple guys are having a great time

• They’re like

• haHAAA

• Good for them

• Glad someone’s enjoying this

• I would be annoyed that this whole thing is seen as funny when the original scene is really cool but hey this whole thing is just one big old parody so what could I expect

• Distancing myself from it by calling it a parody is the only thing getting me through thiis

• I don’t think they’re using all the same lyrics as total eclipse so at least there’s that

• But the lyrics are too romancey and soppy ugh

• Michael your singing is actually quite nice aside from the hint of giovannui at the edges of your words

• ARE THEY NOT DOING THE HARMONIES

• NO

• The harmonies are the best part of the song noooo

• And I think his voice would probably harmonise quite well

• And he ISN’T SINGING TURN AROUND WITH THE BACKING SINGERS

• wHY

• there was no dramatic krolock walking down the staircase slowly

• but then again I don’t think giovanni could do that

• he’d probably trip on the second step, crash down the stairs and be like I’m a-fine! Hee hee!

• Oh

• Oh no

• I think they are doing harmonies but they’re just

• Wrong

• So wrong

• Or maybe good ol’ giovanni has just forgotten the key he’s supposed to be singing in

• Entirely possible

• I don’t think giovanni would particularly care about the rules of music

• Oh giovanni is literally just like come to the gates of hell with me and sarah seems chill with iy

• She’s singing along

• She’a having a good time

• NOOO they harmonised poorly during the verse where there should be no harmonies but they sTILL WON’T HARMONISE IN THE CHORUS

• I HATE IT

• -22/10 would not listen again

• But then that sums up the whole musical tbh

• The phrase ‘hold me tight’ should not be in this song

• Wrong vibes my friends

• This fails the vibe check

• Oh no they’re attempting a couple of the original harmonies

• 2 lines in and it’s not going well

• ???????

• Wait

• They’re both singing harmonies for sarah’s line but NOBODY IS SINGING SARAH’S LINE

• Sarah sing your own part

• What r u doing

• Sarah

• This is horrible pls stop

• Once again the staging is mostly just the two pigeons again

• Except the squawking is more evenly split between the two

• Back and forth

• Wait

• Hmm

• There appears to be either a cult or aa group of monks (is there a name for that? A flock of pigeons, a murder of crows, a prayer of monks?) gathering in the backgroubd

• Did nobody tell them yhis room was taken

• Or maybe sarah and giovanni didn’t book the room

• Maybe it’s just turned midnight and their hour is up

• Someone check the dramatic staircase room booking sheet pls

• Ok ok but there’s nothing you can do, a total eclipse of the heart??

• The whole point is that sarah is trying to choose to be free and make her own choices

• If there’s nothing she can do then that sort of defeats the purpose

• Oh wait yeah this sarah wasn’t locked up

• Never mind

• None of this makes sense anyway

• Really missing krolock’s cape rn

• Nothing looks as good without it

• If giovanni had a cape he might even make it from a -13/10 to nearly a 1/10

• Oh the cult is following giovanni

• Maybe he invited them..?

• Having that many candles on the stairs cab’t be practical

• And tbh is frankly quite dangerous if u ask me

• …and once again we end with some undeservinf applause

Round 4: the boys are back in town

• Ah here comes alfred with his self-narration

• Did he just lightly crack the fourth wall..?

• Oh god and the vampire hunting squad is joined by giovanni ‘buonasera’ von krolock

• Ew did he just say scrumptious? That word should be spoken by grannies and posh mothers alone

• I love how he’s just sat in a throne in the middle of nowhere

• Is this outside his castle? Inside? Somewhere else entirely? We may never know

• Oh sorry I stand corrected it appears I have been incorrectly naming giovanni this whole time

• His full name appears to be count giovanni coppolini travancoli von krolock (or something along those lines) of the sicilian side of the family

• Albus percival wulfric brian dumbledore anyone?

• I just.

• Why is he italian

• Krolock does not sound remotely italian

• Do vampires have a connection to italy?

• If so I am not aware

• Once again, I must ask: why is 75% of the staging of this musical just people stood at opposite ends of the stage facing each other

• Those bats look like family? I guess they would

• Oh my god why is alfred threatening giovanni

• I guess nobody’s gonna be pretending not to know what the others are

• Which gets straight to the point I suppose

• While not necessarily good at self-preservation, alfred sure is efficient

• But maybe too efficient because we still have an hour left to go

• This version of alfred is like a chihuahua with small dog sydrome yapping at a bigger dog, excpet giovanni is only slightly bigger than him and is probably a flea-infested chinese crested dog dressed in a halloween costume from wish.com

• …piccolo alfredo.

• This scene is really bringing out the offensively fake italian in giovanni

• WHY. IS. HE. OFFERING. ALFRED. A. SPONGE. SHAPED. LIKE. A. PENIS

• WHY IS HE MAKING IT GO FLACCID EWWWW NOOO

• I NEED EYE AND BRAIN BLEACH

• Are they saying… erbert..?

• Oh yay he’s french

• Quick tip, directors: the french would not pronounce the t either unless you added an e at the end (I think)

• Also e is more like air rather than er from what I remember

• So really it would be airbair??

• Which is stupid

• Tl;dr: do not make him french and still call him herbert

• Oh and herbert wearing bright blue? No thx I prefer his purple sparkles and black

• His hair and wig aren’t even done well *sigh* herbert would hate this

• See giovanni made a joke and the audience clearly liked it but I could not catch a word of what he said

• Oh god this herbert is wrong

• Herbert never actually speaks to krolock in tanz

• Which tbh is a shame but i prefer it over… whatever this is…

• Huh so it is set in transylvania, giovanni and airbear are just italian and french bc y not

• Neat

• Cool cool cool

• Wait so they were in the library the whole time???????

• I’m so confused rn

• Why does his library have a coffee bar..? you know what, never mind

• Ah ambronsius is clearly about to sing his book song

• …or maybe not? Giovanni is apparently trying to seduce him too..?

• The staging is a bit like vor dem schloss

• It’s the right time for it but who knows

• And one of the first decent harmonies of the musical is a line between giovanni and ambronsius singing about books bc apparently this is a book club now

• Oh no is koukol called boris

• If it isn’t boris johnson I’m gonna be disappointed (or relieved)

• Apparently the throne just glides backwards

• Like a magic carpet exceot it doesn’t leave the ground so i suppose actually more like a chair with wheels, which is much less exciting

• That didn’t deserve a clap

• I can’t figure out if they’re being open about their intentions or not because they seem to change their minds every 10 seconds

• There’s suddenly a bed?

• Oh god ok let’s see if they mess up carpe noctem

• Well the music is for an entirely different song so this will be interesting

• Hmm ok it is that completly different song

• Is that airbear..?

• Or alfred #2?

• Bc it should be krolock singing that song but idek

• At least we get a cape and mostly good singing

• Ah here we go

• Carpe noctem looking its usual weird self

• oH GOD NOT ITS USUAL SELF

• I do not remember winged demons dancing on the bed in the original

• But hey there’s more capes

• Something to be grateful for

• I’m really not sure what’s going on here

• Oh ok I can finally see the dream krolock

• He’s doing all those jumps in a suit rather than shirtless with leggings so he looks a little less cool sorry to him

• But yh i still have no idea who is singing the main vocals

• And it’s over

• Ha alfred lowkey looks like brian david gilbert in that one bit

• Sorry alfred your i’m scared but i’m gonna do this for sarah song isn’t quite as sweet when you’re super confident

• One thing i never understood was how ambronsius slept through alfred’s singing

• Ah it appears he did not

• He’s hugging ambronsius..?

• Does he do that in the original?

• Ha ha very funny professor sibilance and homovampiricus

• Oh and alfred happily just whacks chagal on the head nice nice totally in character

• The coffins are empty???

• Why is chagal in a nice coffin

• Where does giovanni sleep

• I guess in his floating mansion of a coffin

• If anything herbert would have that

• WHY IS MRS CHAGAL HERE

• WHY IS ALFRED EAGER TO KILL CHAGAL

• Oh he’s finally turning magda

• ..and his wife?

• Apparently

• Are they in a polyamorous relationship now

• They will not all fit in that one coffin I’m sorry

• And here’s herbert

• Ew herbert is so cheap

• Like he was flirty in the original but this is ridiculous

• Ugh too many cheap gay jokes

• airbear is sO much worse than I could have imagined

• Huh maybe alfred is confirmed a little bi here

• Ok yeah alfred is definitely having his bi awakening here

• And at least the whole thing is a little more consensual here

• Oh yeah alfred’s bi as hell, he’s singing harmonies with airbear

• But he’s still trying to escape?

• I guess he is a bit confused

• Wait so airbear ended that thinking alfred wanted him? Different but more accurate to the events

• 40 minutes to go

• Mrs krolock is apparently a disguise he uses around sarah too? Ok

• Well the vampires are about to wake so this is where things really should start getting good but I’m sure they won’t

• I don’t like that one of them laughed

• I don’t think they’re even harmonising

• Lazy

• Ah ok here we go harmonies

• These are nice actually

• The lower part is louder than usual, which actually works quite nicely

• The vampires aren’t as jolty and creepy though

• Ew the guitar is bad

• What was that horrible whining between notes

• Oooh this should be sie irren professor

• Oh no, I guess giovanni has decided to bypass the threatening and has gone straight to physical assault

• There’s a prophecy? Alright then. Bit abrupt

• Dammit so they’re going straight into die unstillbare gier without sie irren professor

• Maybe it’s for the best… giovanni was never going to sound that threatening anyway

• Half an hour to go

• I can do this

• Let’s see how he massacres one of the best songs in the musical

• Also he’s starting the song at the front of the stage not the top, and it’s just weird

• When giovanni has been so comedic and dumb the whole time this song just won’t work

• …and the firsg two lines don’t rhyme… great start

• He has a cape though

• Pls I just want 1 cape swish

• Oh but the cape is pathetic

• Oh

• This song could have been good

• But the lyrics aren’t as good in places and he’s still got hints of giovanni’s stupid accent

• What a tragedy

• Well they’re giving a little more detail about his previous victims which is interesting at the very least

• The lyrics don’t have enough syllables

• And ugh they’re not very good either

• There are a few nice ones but most of them…

• I use my body just like a bandage, I use my body just like a wound

• And the prize for worst lyric yet goes to…

• And what makes it worse is that those replaced ich will frei und freier werden und werde meine ketten nicht los

• One of my favourite parts of the song

• And I just want to add that he’s barely moving too

• He doesn’t climb to the top and run down to collapse on the floor

• He just. Stands there.

• Like a badly dressed rock.

• Oh but the stage tilts now to form a straight wall

• So it’s not even like they couldn’t have the stage rise as he runs down

• They just left it raised for him to do nothing on and then got rid of it completely

• They replaced doch die with buuuuuut which does NOT work at all

• You need two syllables to separate the two notes

• This is awful

• They changed the tune a tiny bit which is fine I guess, not as satisfying though

• I just

• *sigh*

• His voice is good. With good lyrics and the original character, he could have done it really well

• I hate that potential was wasted

• Which, again, goes for the whole trainwreck of a musical

• I can’t make out all of the lyrics and I’m not sure if that’s a mild annoyance or a blessing

• Like, i have no idea what he said in the last little bit

• But hey that’s that

Part 3 - The Ball and Beyond

#tanz der vampire #dance of the vampires #ready for the final part?

5 notes · View notes

crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

Pick Your Poison

Switch AU

So this had to happen eventually. And when I really look at the events that have occurred in the normal universe so far, I realized it had to happen sooner rather than later. I absolutely do not want to say anything more. It would be best if it stayed a surprise *evil laughter* But I will say that it involves Schneep and Jackie, and that’s all you’re getting ;)

More of this AU found here

“Henrik, what are you doing back there?”

Schneep pulled off his headphones, stuffing them back in his backpack. God, he really had to be more aware of his surroundings when back here. He managed to zip up his pack just as Jennifer, his coworker, poked her head into the back room. “Just listening to music.”

“Well, alright. It’s almost lunch, though, so you might want to get out here.” Jennifer disappeared again.

“Understood.” Schneep pushed his backpack behind the nearest table. They should really get lockers in the back room. Not only would it be convenient, not only would it prevent random thefts, but it would save him a lot of worrying. He didn’t like thinking about people finding the police scanner he hid in his backpack and listened to on break. That would be awkward at best, and a giveaway of his secret vigilante identity at worst. He sighed. He was basically having to juggle two full-time jobs, and sometimes it was more stressful than he thought it was worth.

But then again, if he didn’t have a job he wouldn’t be able to afford an apartment and superhero gear. He kept that in mind as he pulled on his apron and headed back out into the front of the coffee shop. Jennifer, manning the percolators, glanced at him. “Hey. So before you do any sort of work, I think someone just walked in who’d want to see you.” She grinned, and jerked her head towards the entrance.

“Hmm? Oh.” Schneep smiled. He approached the counter, waving down the pair who’d just entered. “Hello Anti. And William, nice to see you. What brings you here?”

“Came to see if they’d fired you yet,” Anti said, grinning.

“Ha! No such luck, I am afraid.”

William jumped, red curls bouncing as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Hi Uncle Hen!”

“Also I need a hot chocolate,” Anti added. “Small size. And a medium ristretto.”

“And a cake pop?” William asked hopefully.

“Alright, fine,” Anti agreed. “But just for today.”

“Ah, I’d think you only use me for my connections, Anti,” Schneep muttered with a smile, writing down the order on two cups. He turned to leave, but found Jennifer interrupting him, taking the cups with a smile and a glance. “Oh! Okay, I suppose we can talk.”

“Nice.” Anti looked down at Will. “Hey, kid? Want to go find a comfy seat while we wait?”

“Yeah!” Will jumped up one more time before scurrying off.

“So, what is the occasion?” Schneep asked.

“Well, Will just started spring term, so I promised him a treat if he got through the first week,” Anti said. “And it’s all cold outside, so hot chocolate made sense.”

“Is unusually snowy, I will say that,” Schneep agreed. “It was very cold walking to the bus earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. Nearest stop’s like fifteen minutes away from here, I have no idea how you manage to do that every day in winter, it totally sucked today.”

“I have been colder.” Schneep shrugged. “Do you have any plans today?”

“Nothing new. Maybe some more recording.” Anti suddenly perked up. “Oh. Hey, how are you liking that game I told you to play?”

Schneep froze, suddenly glaring at him. “I hate you.”

“Whaaaat? Why?” Anti was trying very hard not to laugh.

“I knew something was up from the very beginning. I thought, wow, it is odd that he told me to play this since it’s very cute, there must be some dark twist inside it. But then!” Schneep threw a hand in the air. “I got too attached to them! And I was not expecting the entire second half! The game just decided to kill everyone and it was terrible!”

Anti was giggling now. “But you had fun, right?”

“It was...interesting,” Schneep conceded. “I can see why it is your favorite, it does all those programming things. And it was honestly scary.”

“Great! Now you can check out the videos I did on it,” Anti said cheerfully. “Who do you like best?”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Actually, I liked Monika. She was very...fascinating. I wondered a lot about her.”

“That’s fair. I like Natsuki.”

“Really? I think you have more in common with Yuri.”

“You’re only saying that because of the knives.” Anti hesitated for a second. “I do...relate to her the most. But that doesn’t make her personality interesting.”

“I am never playing any game you tell me to play ever again,” Schneep mumbled. “I am never trusting you ever.”

“When should you ever trust me?” Anti grinned. “Anyway, do you have any plans today? Since you asked about mine.”

Schneep looked at the clock mounted on the wall. “Well, my shift ends in two and a half hours, and after I get home Jackie is coming over.”

“Oh? And you didn’t invite me. Wait!” Anti held up a finger, thinking. “This is that thing you told me about last week. Batman movies?”

Schneep nodded. “If you have changed your mind you are free to come. We plan on ordering pizza.”

“Hmm, tempting. But I think I’ll pass.”

“If you insist.” Schneep glanced away. “Hey, I think Jennifer has your order now.”

“Oh? So she does.” Anti looked over. “You like her?”

“She is friendly, yes,” Schneep said slowly.

“Good, I don’t need to be a bi—a jerk about anything.” Anti grinned again. “Heh, there are kids here. Anyway, text you later?”

“Sure. I will see you.”

———————

Two hours and forty-five minutes later, Schneep walked outside to find dusk waiting for him. He scowled vaguely at the sky. It was barely five o’clock. Stupid winter nights. The sun hadn’t set yet, but he had a hunch it would if he waited around for an hour. But he had no intention of waiting that long. He zipped up his coat, adjusted his scarf, made sure his backpack was secure on his shoulders, and started walking.

Fifteen minutes. It was only fifteen minutes walking to the bus stop. What could happen in fifteen minutes? Apparently a lot. About halfway to the stop, a pair of hands reached out and pulled Schneep into the gap between two buildings.

Schneep cried out, but found a hand covering his mouth. Instincts kicked in, and he stomped down hard on the assailant’s foot, simultaneously jabbing his elbow backwards. The hands released, and he gasped, looking around. There was no one in sight. Or at least, no one he could see in the shadows. He shook his head, and started towards the street, only for his vision to waver and blur. Between one blink and the next, he was suddenly staring at a wall. He turned around, looking back towards the street, only for the same thing to happen again.

He groaned. Not again. “Okay, where are you?” he said, spinning around. “I know it’s you.”

Silence. And then the slight sound of laughter. “Clever boy.” The world suddenly shifted its view as the illusions faded away. Distorter was leaning against one of the building walls by the entrance to the street. Still smiling. Still dripping blood from his eyes and the wound on his head. “You know, there’s one good thing about you. It’s so easy to make fake things in your mind. Because of your...” He twirled a finger beside his head, the sign for cuckoo. “You know?”

Schneep flinched, then growled. “You gang up on me when I am walking home? Really? Were you getting tired of having an even playing ground?” All the past times he’d fought Distorter had been at night, when he was out on patrol and had his suit and gear with him. But now? He didn’t have anything. And that made him wary.

“I like how you make everything about you. And let’s be honest, were you really doing such a good job before?” Distorter pushed away from the wall, reaching above his head and stretching backwards. And kept bending backwards, until several cracks echoed through the alleyway. Schneep took a few steps backwards. Distorter laughed, righting himself. “Don’t worry, this’ll only take a few minutes.”

“No thank you.” Schneep turned around and ran, intending to make it to the other end of the alley and out onto the street. But he only got a few steps in before he ran into something solid with a smack! He stumbled backwards, rubbing his forehead as the world shifted again, showing how he’d been running right into a wall.

Distorter laughed. “Wow, I wish I had a video of that. I could play it in a loop.”

“Motherfucker,” Schneep said, glaring at him.

“Oh, I know. Now stay still.” Distorter took one step backwards, and then launched forwards.

Schneep yelled in surprise, ducking to the ground and rolling out of the way before he even knew what he was doing. Distorter crashed against the wall, but didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest, just pushing away for a second attack. Schneep scrambled to his feet, backing up while keeping one hand against the wall to make sure it was really there. The moment Distorter was in range he shot out with a fist, connecting solidly with his face. Distorter stumbled back, then laughed. He suddenly dropped to the ground like a ragdoll. Schneep found his feet being pulled out from under him. He cried out as he fell to the ground, barely managing to catch himself before he could hit the back of his head against the cement.

“Wow, not so tough without your lightning gadgets, are you?” Distorter’s nails were digging into his shoulder, blood dripping on Schneep’s face from the creature’s eyes and nose. “Now stay. Still.”

Schneep managed to fling an arm out, fist connecting with the side of Distorter’s head, snapping it to the left. “If you want to kill me, I will not go down without fighting.”

Distorter recovered easily, grin unphased. “Who said I wanted you dead? Well, yet.”

Schneep opened his mouth to retort, but instead suddenly gasped as he felt a sharp pain in his midsection. For a moment, it felt like a strong punch, and then he felt wet leaking.

“Have fun with that.” And between one blink and the next, Distorter seemed to disappear.

Schneep climbed into a sitting position, pressing a hand to the painful spot. Did...did Distorter just stab him? That...was different. He couldn’t remember that creature ever using a knife before. Slowly, with the help of the nearby wall, he stood up and walked back out onto the street. He looked down. It wasn’t bleeding too badly. And he’d been stabbed before, and this didn’t feel like the worst wound he’d had. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. He unwound the scarf from around his neck, unzipped his coat—no, this was his only winter coat, and it had just been ruined!—and pressed the balled-up scarf to the wound. He had a first aid kit at home. He could probably get there quickly, provided the bus was on time.

Wait, the bus! Schneep reached into his pocket with one hand, withdrawing his phone and checking the time. Oh, good, he should still be able to get to the stop before it came. He replaced his phone, zipped his coat again, and started off.

Part of him thought it was ridiculous that he wasn’t calling anyone. But it didn’t seem too bad. Nothing he hadn’t survived before. Maybe he could just handle it by himself, without needing to bother anyone.

———————

And once he got back to the apartment, it seemed like it wasn’t anything to worry about. The wound was small, probably from a small blade, and he managed to bandage it up well enough. He hadn’t lost a lot of blood, and he got to the bus stop without much difficulty. Despite the searing pain, it was probably fine.

Probably.

“Okay, I know I am bullshitting myself,” Schneep said, glaring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “But Jackie is coming over, and if it really starts to cause problems, he is a doctor. He can help.” Though he’d feel terrible about ruining what was supposed to be a fun night. “It will be fine, I promise.” His reflection didn’t answer any of his ramblings.

He’d arrived back at his apartment at about 5:40. Jackie arrived twenty minutes later, at six. “Okay, so we’re good to go all night,” he said the moment Schneep opened the door. “I don’t have a shift tomorrow, so we can stay up late and watch all three.”

“I doubt you’d make it that long,” Schneep muttered fondly, standing aside to let Jackie in.

“Hey! Not everyone’s a night owl.” Jackie breezed past him, then paused, standing in the center of the studio apartment. “It’s kind of hot in here, did you turn up the thermostat?”

“Oh, yes. Because it is cold outside.” It didn’t feel too hot to him. He was actually a little chilly, slightly shivering as he closed the apartment door.

“Huh. Won’t the landlord charge you for that?”

“I do not think so.”

“If you say so.” Jackie pulled off his hoodie, draping it over the back of the nearest chair. “Still hot, though.”

Schneep decided to change the subject. “So are we ordering food now, or do we wait until we actually have the movie set up?”

“We can set it up first.” Jackie flopped onto the sofa.

“Alright. Don’t hurry to help or anything.”

Jackie hesitated. “Did you want me to, or...?”

“No, it was joke, don’t worry. I will get it.” Schneep joined Jackie over in the living room section of the apartment. He bent down to turn on the TV, but when he stood up, a dagger of pain from his wound suddenly flared. He hissed, hand instinctively pressing against it.

Jackie sat up straight. “What was that?”

“Is nothing, I just...pulled a muscle at work today,” Schneep said, coming up with something on the spot.

“You work at a coffee shop,” Jackie stated.

“Well, yes, but sometimes we have to carry boxes and bags of ingredients from storage to the front.” That wasn’t a lie, at least.

“And that would result in...you pulling a muscle. In your stomach. And not your back or your knees, which is where that would usually happen.” Jackie raised an eyebrow.

“...yes,” Schneep said after a long pause.

“Okay, what happened?”

Schneep sighed. He should’ve known better than to hide anything from Jackie, He had a sort of sixth sense when it came to something being wrong with his friends. “It is nothing to worry about. I got pulled into an alleyway walking home.”

“Pulled into a what? Like a mugging?”

“Yes, like that.” Schneep pressed his hand against the wound again. “The man had a knife, and he used it.”

“You’ve been stabbed?!” Jackie shot to his feet.

“I took care of it!” Schneep hurried to say. “It was not bad!”

“There’s no such thing as a ‘not bad’ stabbing! Here, sit down, I want to look at it.”

Schneep sighed. Well, at least this’ll be quick. Then Jackie could stop worrying and the two of them could relax. Schneep sat down on the couch. “Happy?”

“Yes. Now pull up your shirt so I can look at it.” Jackie waited patiently while Schneep did so. “You actually did a really good job wrapping. Unfortunately, I have to undo your hard work.” Jackie sat down next to him, slowly unwinding the white bandages.

Schneep tried to stay very still, despite the way the pain would surge every time he shifted weight. This was actually worse than the walk home. How was that possible? Maybe shock, or something like that. After a moment of silence, Jackie placed his hand against Schneep’s stomach. “Ah!” Schneep instinctively pulled down his shirt. “Jackie, your hands are cold, do not do that!”

“Okay, that’s weird,” Jackie said, not responding to what Schneep said. “Lean forward.” He put his hand against Schneep’s forehead. “Um...I don’t think it’s my hands that are cold, I think it’s you.” He bit his lip. “I think...did you lose a lot of blood?”

“Not a lot. There was not a lot of bleeding, and I had something pressed against it a lot of the time.”

“Weird...” Jackie leaned back, thinking. “You’re cold, and also you look like you’re sweating a bit. Huh...did you put any disinfectant on the wound?”

“...ah.” Schneep tried not to squirm.

Jackie sighed. “Who knows what was on that knife? I keep telling you—well, never mind now. I know you have some. First aid kit’s in the bathroom, right?” Schneep nodded. “Wait here, I’ll get it.” And with that, Jackie stood up and left.

Schneep had nothing to do but sit. The day had started off so well, now this was happening. He sighed, blinking around at his surroundings. He was tired...really tired, all of a sudden. He leaned back against the couch, now staring up at the ceiling. Was it...was it spinning?

“Alright, I’m back! I have the...are you okay?”

“What?” Schneep rolled his head over to look at Jackie. “Yes, I am just...I just got very tired very quickly.”

“That’s...just suddenly?” Jackie’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure you didn’t lose too much blood?”

“Yes, I am sure.” Schneep blinked again. For a moment, everything was swimming.

“...okay.” Jackie sat down next to him. “I’m gonna put this on the stab wound, now. It might sting a little. Okay?”

Schneep didn’t answer.

“Hey, Volt, buddy?” Jackie patted the side of Schneep’s face. “I need to know that you understand.”

After a moment of silence, Schneep said, “The walls are melting.”

“Wh-what?” Jackie asked, taken aback.

“They are melting.” Schneep’s eyes fluttered. “I think I am seeing things. That happens, but this time I know it is happening, so that is a start.”

“...I’m just going to take a look at the wound real quick.” Jackie lifted up Schneep’s shirt. His eyes widened, and he looked back between the wound and Schneep’s face. “I’m...going to take a pulse, okay?” He pressed two fingers against Schneep’s neck. Then he withdrew them sharply. “Holy—” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing a number.

“What is wrong?” Schneep asked. He tried to focus on Jackie’s face, but it was blurry, like it was hidden behind a pane of frosted glass.

“I-I don’t know what was on that knife, but there was definitely something,” Jackie said, pressing the phone to his ear. “It’s doing something to you, we need to get emergency—what do you mean no service?!” He pulled the phone away.

“The lines nearby have been down for a while,” Schneep mumbled. “There was a storm...though I remember they said that it looked like...sie wurden sabotiert...”

“Okay, I don’t know what that last part was.” Jackie stood up, hurrying to the door. “I can drive you to the hospital, I—what?!” He pulled on the doorknob, then pushed on it. “I-it won’t open!” Giving up on getting it open, Jackie started pounding on the door. “Hey! Hello? The door’s stuck, someone let us out! It’s an emergency!”

“Jackie...” Schneep looked back up at the ceiling. It was dripping into his eyes. How was it melting when it was so cold? “You are doctor, you can fix...”

“I’m not trained for-for poison!” Jackie stammered.

“You can try...or maybe we can go out the window, it is not too far.”

“I can’t go out the window!” Jackie had come back to stand next to Schneep at some point, now standing over him and chewing on his hair nervously. “I-I can try? But I gotta keep trying to get someone, too!”

“Mm...you do that.” Schneep paused. “Jackie...I should tell you. The one who stabbed me...was not just some random thief...it was...lächelnde Mann. Distort...” He closed his eyes.

“It was Dis—?! No no no no, Volt, Henrik, stay awake!” Jackie leaned over him, shaking him slightly, only to get no response. “Oh, fuck fuck fucking fuck.” He took his pulse once again, finding it just as rapid as before. “Okay. Okay, Jackie, you can figure this out. You can do this.” He took a step back, lifting up Schneep’s shirt to expose the stab wound once again. It was yellow around the edges, the blood darker than it should be. “Okay, uh. I have no idea what that is. I can find out, I guess?”

Jackie picked up his phone, opening a window to the Internet and typing as quickly as possible. Luckily he knew several websites that knew what they were talking about, so he didn’t have to search through shady sites. “‘Get to the hospital as quickly as possible’—yes, I know, I can’t do that. Fuck. Okay.” He pushed Schneep to the side, lying him down. Schneep’s eyelids fluttered. “Cleaning is always a good place to start. Okay.”

He ran to the kitchenette, throwing open the cupboards until he found the largest cup possible. Turning on the sink, he filled it with water. Warm or cold? God, if he knew what was in the wound, he’d know which, but he had to settle for lukewarm and hope that would work. He grabbed a wash rag and dashed back to the sofa as quickly as possible, kneeling nearby. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but this is going to sting.”

As soon as the water touched his skin, Schneep’s eyes flew open and he screamed, flailing. “I know, I know!” Jackie said. “Just, please! Stay still! Stay—hey!” He grabbed Schneep’s arm with one hand to prevent him from whacking him in the face. “Please, you have to let me do this.”

Jackie reached out, ready to...to...what was he doing? He shook his head, clearing away the sudden fog. He had to clean the wound, that was a good starting place.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed it. As soon as he was sure he’d done as good a job as possible, he checked Schneep’s pulse again. It was slower than before, but...but it was also slower than it should be. “No no no no no,” he muttered, a constant stream while he tried to look up what else to do. “There has to be a way, I have to...” he trailed off. What...? His head turned, and his hand reached out, fingers exploring into the open bleeding—

Schneep screamed again, and Jackie jerked backwards. What the hell?! What had he just been doing?! “No no no, I-I’m sorry, it’s okay!” It wasn’t okay, but that didn’t matter now. He stood up, once again running to the door, but it was just as unmovable as it had been before. He pounded on it once...he...his head tilted to the side, his arm dropping. Was someone laughing nearby?

No! Jackie shook his head. He had to—there was something on his face. Something warm and wet, and coming from his eyes. He reached up, fingers coming away red. “Shit, no, fuck!” He looked around the apartment, not finding anything. Well, did it matter? His friend was dying!

There had to be something else he could do! He rushed back to Schneep’s side, checking his pulse once again. His breathing was slower, a wet, rattling sound coming from inside his throat. Fuck, this had happened so fast. Jackie tilted his head back, keeping his mouth open. What else could he do? The disinfectant? It was probably better than nothing. Jackie grabbed the small tin, unscrewing the lid. He dabbed his fingers inside, then tried to gently apply it to the surface around the wound as gently as possible. Schneep didn’t protest beyond a slight twitching. There was red dripping on the sofa in between them; he knew it was coming from his eyes.

“Come on, come on, please please please.” Once more, he checked the pulse. He checked the...the...

He couldn’t find it.

“No. No no no no no no—” He tried to find it by pressing fingers against his wrist. Then by pressing his palm against his chest. He still couldn’t find anything. “No, Henrik, please don’t—wake up! Please, wake up!” The world seemed leeched of its color, everything in gray. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, anything. He was shaking him and getting no response. “Henrik, no! No, my friend!”

There was nothing, nothing, nothing but gray distortion.

———————

A steady, slow beeping was coming from somewhere. Everything felt heavy, especially his eyelids. Yet he managed to open them somehow, staring uncomprehendingly at his surroundings, until something cleared and he recognized that he was in a hospital room somewhere.

After what felt like forever, he rolled his head to the side, catching sight of a woman in nurse’s scrubs. She was watching him. He closed his eyes again...

———————

The beeping was back, as well as a low murmuring. He could hear two voices.

“So how are you related to him again?”

“I’m not, he’s my neighbor.”

“And you found him how?”

“Well, I heard shouting from his apartment, so I was a little worried. It went away after a while, but I thought I would go check anyway. And when I did, his door was wide open, and so I peeked inside and I...”

———————

More voices, muffled like they were through a wall. A few sounded familiar...

“Fuck you, he’s our friend and you’re going to let us see him!”

“Sir, if you would please calm down—”

“Fuck calm! I have a hunting knife in my backpack that I’d think you’d like to see!”

“Now, really, Anti, that’s going too far.”

“Yea, a bit. Y’wouldn’ want t’get arrested.”

“There’s nothing illegal about knives. Guns, maybe, but knives?”

“I’m sure threatening a doctor has some consequences. They could throw us out.”

“Mnngh...”

———————

He opened his eyes again, looking around at the same hospital room. Everything felt...floaty. Like he could bounce away at any minute. But he was awake. He tried to sit up, fell back, and looked around. The same nurse from the last time he looked around was still there. She watched him for a moment, then smiled. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Everyone was worried.”

“Wh...happened?” He asked.

“Well, we’re not too sure. You were found unconscious, and wounded. I personally don’t know too many details, but they had to hurry.”

The stab wound. Schneep tried to bolt upright as soon as he remembered, but just ended up falling down again and knocking the breath out of his lungs.

“Oh, be careful. You could tear open the stitches.” The nurse paused. “You know...there are some friends of yours waiting outside. I could let them in, if you want.” Once he nodded, she stood from her chair, opened the door, and poked her head outside. “He’s awake,” she said. And then the door opened wide as three people came in.

“Henrik, what the fuck dude?!” Anti demanded. “In the span of a few hours since I’d seen you, you manage to almost die?!”

Schneep smiled at him. He couldn’t remember the last time Anti had called him by his first name, he must’ve been really worried.

Marvin poked his head around Anti. “I don’ t’ink our group should be makin’ a habit of visiting others in the hospital,” he said, smiling.

“Had no say in th’matter,” Schneep mumbled.

“How are you feeling?” JJ asked.

Schneep paused for a long moment, trying to find the right words. “Bad,” he settled on.

“Yeah, I bet,” Anti muttered. “I did some research on what the doctor said got to you, and it’s pretty nasty. I mean, you were out for a night and half the day.” He looked over at the nurse. “Hey, can we get some privacy here?”

The nurse pursed her lips. “It’s against policy.”

“Sh’s fine,” Schneep said. “‘M just...happy you all’re here...” His eyes darted around the room. Something was wrong...“Where’s Jackie?”

The three boys looked at each other. “I thought he came to see you earlier,” JJ said. “Do either of you two know?”

“I was just assumin’ he was somewhere in the hospital,” Marvin said. “Because he works here, I t’ought...”

“He doesn’t have a shift today,” Anti said. “Wait! I texted him.” Anti dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone and checking his messages. His brows furrowed. “And...he hasn’t even seen it, let alone replied yet.”

Schneep tried to sit up one more time, finally managing to prop himself against the pillows. “He was with me...”

“Wait, he was with you when you got stabbed?” JJ asked, eyes wide.

“No, later, when...everything started...I blacked out...did he bring me here?”

“No, some neighbor lady of yours checked on you, and lucky she did,” Anti said. “She...didn’t mention anyone else.”

Schneep made a strangled sort of gasp, covering his mouth. “He’s gone.”

The others looked around, expressions confused and worried. In the background, the nurse opened the door and left, standing outside.

“We don’t know that,” JJ hurried to say.

“Jems, I don’ t’ink...” Marvin sat down in the nearest chair, realizing the truth before anyone else. “Henrik, d’you mean...?”

“He poisoned me,” Schneep whispered. “He knew Jackie would try to fix it...” It had all been a trap. A plan, of some sorts. How long had Distorter been planning this? Since he first met them all? “So he could confuse him, and take him, and if I died...well, two birds, one stone.”

The others said nothing. There was nothing to say, in the face of such knowledge. It weighed heavy on the air of that room.

And somewhere across the city, a man dressed in gray was smiling, perfectly delighted.

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