#because its got YOUR flavor of fucked up morality on it now instead of being like hmm maybe Christianity isnt a problem

[timeisacephalopod]

The type of Christian who asks atheists how they don't like, murder people on the reg are so funny to me because they seem to think their religion makes them the Peak of Morality when statements like "if you don't believe in God how comes you don't do X thing" all but outright state they have no idea why shit like murder and rape is bad except that God doesn't like it lmao. Like way to admit you have no intrinsic sense of morality and need to be afraid of a higher power to be a decent person, but I promise if you're not a piece of shit it's actually very natural not to want to do heinous evil shit all the time potential punishment from a higher power or not 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

#winters ramblings #seriously its SO funny when that happens because every time its like ??? the FUCK kind of thoughts do you have #to ask HOW i resist doing evil shit all the time because i dont fear god because i dont believe in God?? #what kind of fucked up person do you haveto be to only resist killing people because of fear of a higher power?? #these are people to avoid because typically they also come with the issue of using their religion to make any action they want #perfectly Good and Moral because GOD said it its in the BIBLE whether thats true or not and like bible or no #if you have no intrinsic sense of morality i dont want to hear about atheist morality from you lmao #not that athiests lack issues i swear to god white dudes who evangelize atheism like its their new religion #have WILDLY missed the point and often suffer the same problem as the aforementioned Christians #wherein the onky thing thats ever given them any kind of pushback is the church so they decide RELIGION is horrible and bad as a whole #which isnt true religion can be a perfectly lovely amazing thing for people but that brand of atheist #doesnt seem to understand that people turned away from the church because of wide spread abuse and discrimination not because #believing in god makes you literally mentally ill like some of these fuckos act like. abelist AND shite to religious folks in one fowl swoop #so you know atheists have problems too but like they arent making laws in their beliefs images across the world so you know #temper the criticism with how influential the group actually is although richard dawkins types DID get a lot of space to spew their idiocy #like dawkims if you think youre SOOOO much smarter than christians how come you have ALL the same misogyny problems?? #youre not that smart and logical if youve decided a whole kind of person is inherently less than you buddy. in fact thats very Christian #of him actually. funny when that happens but again if you dont actually know WHY something is a problem #its very easy to say Thats Bad and then literally do the exact same thing you just condemned because when YOU do it its no longer bad #because its got YOUR flavor of fucked up morality on it now instead of being like hmm maybe Christianity isnt a problem #because it EXISTS but because a lot of people use their religion as a pointed barb to discriminate against huge swaths of people #and often the intolerance becomes a legal issue when Christians and other religious majorities shove through laws based on EXCLUSIVELY their #religions and opinions and that doesnt mean religion should be dismantled it means we ahould tell religious folk who would know what #morality was if it fucked them up the ass to shut up and figure out what morality is outside of rekigion before they start legislating about #it and whatnot. also i wish extreme opinions werent ALL the news focused on exclusively on the political right #can we platform some NORMAL well adjusted christians who are god loving AND not a bunch of wingnuts #who are two steps away from arguing thou shall not kill only applies to people they LIKE because they dont seem to understand #maybe murder is bad when EVERYONE does it not just The Bad People??!?!

[brawltogethernow]

So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

[bettsfic]

do you know anything about like, the development of the purity rhetoric that now seems to be ubiquitous in fandom and how it got there? i used to be on tumblr in like, 2014 and only recently came back to fandom and i remember everyone being generally kind of cool with things like incest ships and morally grey characters (speaking specifically re the frozen fandom and elsa/anna here lmao) whereas now it seems like the conversation about those things has drastically shifted and i am..puzzled by it

this is what i imagine that experience was like for you:

according to fanlore, purity culture started in the homestuck fandom which. based on what i know of homestuck, that tracks. however i’ve never been in homestuck so i’m not sure what that transformation was like. all i know is my personal experience with the disk horse. afaik there’s no cohesive timeline of events across fandom, and i lack the time and resources to be able to make one myself. if anyone knows of one, or wants to make one, please let me know.

i do know that purity culture is a movement started by very young teenagers, who were maybe 13-15 in 2014 and are now 18-20. they were 8-10 when ao3 was founded, and therefore seem to have a limited knowledge of fan history, censorship, and critical thinking. i’m hoping that since they’re now entering college, they’ll get some insight and broader social awareness, and this movement will finally die out in the next few years. 

on any other platform, at any other time, their toxic rhetoric would not have gained traction. but here and now, on tunglr dot com where anyone can gain a platform, where mob mentality thrives and inciting an anonymous dogpile is as easy as hitting Post, where the brokenness of this place makes it difficult to control the content you’re exposed to -- it’s the perfect storm. we live in an age of hopelessness. young people grow up with social media as an extension of their identities, tethered to devices that hold all the information in the world. i think it’s fair for them to be afraid of their futures, and i can understand the desire to control the online spaces where they have the most agency, where their voices are the loudest. 

that may explain why, but not how. as in, where did they pick up this mentality at all? @freedom-of-fanfic (whose work is a necessity in understanding the disk horse) connected anti-shipping to TERF rhetoric. i’ve linked the fanlore page because it has all of the links and some of the responses. i honestly do believe that the language surrounding purity culture has its ugly roots in TERFdom. at its core, purity culture -- the policing of female and queer sexuality -- is misogyny. 

when i started writing destiel circa 2014, fandom was as you described. wincest was a juggernaut on par with destiel. teen wolf was full of underage and noncon. a/b/o was on the rise. it seemed like fandom was a genre without restraint -- anything you wrote, if it found the right audience, would be celebrated unabashedly. people who have been following me for a long time know that i was addicted to adderall at the time and pounding out all sorts of manic nonsense. i remember living on the validation of comments (and at the time, there were lots of comments. not so much anymore, but that’s another story). i got critical comments only rarely, and they were the type that i admired -- readers without judgment thinking through the story, reacting to it earnestly. i made some of my best friends because they left long, critical comments on my work. sometimes they didn’t like it, sometimes they did, but ultimately, they were engaged, and that’s what counted.

i remember my first policing-type comment, i think at the start of all the purity nonsense. it was a destiel fic, and someone very angrily told me i should tag my bottom!cas because it was triggering. i’ve thought about that comment a lot over the years. top/bottom discourse is nothing new, but to say that bottom castiel is triggering? that was ridiculous. but then i realized -- there was a writer in fandom at the time i won’t name, who was known for being extremely sensitive (for bottom!cas especially, which they found triggering), and their very dedicated following offered fic that was safe for their fave to read. i have nothing against this person at all. they were not part of the purity discourse, they were up front about their sensitive nature, and as far as i knew (i believe i met them at a con once?) they were very kind. 

but that commenter had been clearly influenced by this person and believed that a specific fictional character receiving anal sex from another specific fictional character was actual, real triggering content, and it was my obligation as a writer to tag for it. which i did, because i felt bad, and i was baffled by that request. at the time, i wanted more than anything to be liked, and conformed wherever i could. if i got such a request now, i would ignore it because it was rudely written and honestly kind of bonkers. i’d happily add a tag for something i may have missed, or even something i’d never considered before, but there’s no reason a person can’t make that request politely. 

this situation isn’t about purity discourse proper (the commenter didn’t tell me not to write the fic, and it had nothing to do with morality), but it’s the earliest example i can think of where the process of policing had occurred: a person of influence on tumblr affected their follower’s thinking, and that follower felt entitled to command another writer to conform to that ideology.

i could be completely wrong about making these connections. maybe that commenter truly believed bottom!cas was a legitimate widespread trauma. they did not say the fic was triggering to them, but that it might be to some other people, in the same way purity police say “think of the CHILDREN” when in fact they don’t give a fuck about children at all. 

after destiel i moved to stucky, which was, at the time, a juggernaut ship where anyone could write anything. this was also the time when the term “cinnamon roll” became incredibly popular, circa 2015. it was a fun and seemingly innocuous meme, but it positioned the ideas of “purity” and “wholesomeness” in sharp relief, and cemented these ideas by beginning to give it a distinct vocabulary. “trash” was pitched as its opposite. stucky is where i first came into contact with “antis.” in destiel, there had been ship wars, sure, but it was of a different flavor than antis. destiel vs wincest wasn’t about morality in 2014. it was about everything but.

in stucky in 2015, however, the disk horse was running rampant. the MCU had a sub-section of fandom called HTP (hydra trash party) in which steve and/or bucky have dubious or nonconsensual relations with various or many members of hydra. this is the first time i remember being aware of morality becoming a cornerstone of shipping. HTP was loathed by purity police. by the time i wrote a stucky bdsm au, i’d accumulated multiple nasty anons, rude comments from entitled readers, and other nonsense that all said the same thing: your filth is not welcome here in our space of purity. go away.

but the release of the force awakens is what really turned the tide. TFA offered three major ships: stormpilot (as it was called at the time, now finnpoe), reylo, and kylux. the fandom that developed around the sequels was firmly divided. franzeska wrote an amazing meta about this phenomenon which gives some insight into the seeds of purity policing. in short, stormpilot should have been the primary pairing of the sequels, but instead many of the badwrong writers from other fandoms (and HTP specifically, which was how i entered the fandom) flocked to the blank slate of kylux. 

it took a long time for the ship to gain traction. a friend told me that kylux had started with angry star wars racists who hated that there was diversity in the sequel trilogy. and i told them no, i was there, there were twelve of us and a cornchip, and all we cared about was the dirty/darkly comedic potential of these two ridiculous villain characters in one of the biggest franchises of all time. it wasn’t that complicated. i don’t mean to dismiss the discussion of race in fandom; i think it’s important to acknowledge that racism, as franzeska describes far better than i can, plays a huge part in fandom, particularly in star wars, and it’s an important and ongoing discussion to be having, especially given what kelly marie tran has gone through, and how it affected (presumably) rose tico’s extremely limited presence in TROS.

the early fics of kylux weren’t particularly taboo. they were post-TFA hurt/comfort mostly, then slowly the bdsm and power dynamics crept in. those of us who wanted to get away from purity discourse had finally found a new home. for a while. 2016 was the golden era of kylux. we were all very happy.

i remember talking to a friend about how there were certain things i couldn’t write in certain ships. being from ye olden days of fandom, she was appalled by this idea, and told me i could write anything for any ship i wanted, wasn’t that was the whole point of transformative works? and i agreed! but i tried to explain, if you post badwrong for a fandom of purity police, you’re going to, at best, get dogpiled in your comments/inbox. at worse they will find you, call your employer, and try to ruin your life. people will tell you to kill yourself. they’ll report your tumblr and try to get your blog shut down. there are real-life, harrowing consequences to writing taboo fic, and many who write fic as a hobby don’t have the emotional energy to field these risks.

around this time, discord became popular, which offered a private space for badwrong writers to congregate. i had started grad school and didn’t have much time to write fic. metoo was happening. tromp got elected. kylux was slowly turning mainstream so a lot of us turned our attention to gradence in fantastic beasts. some went on to hannibal and other fandoms that hadn’t yet caught the attention of purity police (but it was, as it is now, just a matter of time). kylux, i feel, was specifically decimated by a single fan creator, who was like a police chief. they would get wind of someone writing underage or noncon and write a call-out post about them, and that writer/artist would get pitchforked. a few times, my comments or posts got screencapped, and posts were written urging people to stop reading my works because of how heinously immoral i was. this happened to several of my friends too. 

the great tumblr tittyban of 2017 happened, which only added fuel to the fire and further legitimized the purity movement. i shifted hesitantly to the 100 fandom, which seemed small in comparison to supernatural, marvel, and star wars. i thought it was a chill place. i was wrong; it was just as toxic as other fandoms. but i also didn’t care anymore, and i appreciated that i was mostly left alone. more importantly, i found a lot of support from other people who were as tired of the purity as i was, and @the100kinkmeme was reborn. 

the state of things is pretty abysmal. there are some really amazing writers out there writing under multiple sock accounts, keeping their fandom identities shattered so as not to call attention to themselves. as much as i understand why writers do that, and i respect that decision, i also think it’s sad. it deprives readers the chance to read that author’s other works. it limits the sense of community and our ability to make friends. it fractures the future of the genre.

what’s most important to acknowledge is that none of this is happening solely in fandom. i went to a writers’ conference where 2 of 3 panels were about the history of moral policing and censorship in art. it is worth noting that of the 40-ish visiting writers on faculty, only one (1) was a woman of color (jaimaica kincaid). naturally, older rich white people who have spent their life in the arts are all about death of the author, separation of art and artist. they’re on the total opposite side of purity police, and they won’t acknowledge at all that racism and sexism are a problem in the creative world. they don’t have any nuance on the discussion, or modern perspectives in light of metoo or popular culture. 

this went on longer than i anticipated. i neglected to mention YFIP (your fave is problematic) an old blog that started the idea of call-out culture by pulling receipts on celebrities, and how call-out culture led to cancel culture, which also aided in the purity disk horse. i think a lot can be said about how some of this stuff is genuinely good (metoo and holding men accountable for their bullshit) while also being profoundly toxic (punishing criminals via mob mentality, ruining their careers and livelihoods through social media, rather than giving them their due process in court. i understand it -- the judicial system is built by the hands of the very predators we seek to condemn, but still. the jury of the internet is never a fair trial). 

if you want to read more, my tag is tsatp (the sacred and the profane). i’m sure i’ve left out a lot, but i can only speak to my experience. i think it would be good if people would share their experience dealing with purity policing, too, so we might get a cohesive timeline in place. feel free to reblog and add your story.

#tsatp #my fic #Anonymous

[hazelenergy]

@bed-of-briars​ @the-road-from-calvary​

So here’s some info on how thinblood alchemy works. Kitty, I know you asked me about it so hopefully this clears things up. Antonia, I hope this has use for you, and I may be able to plague you with more history questions soon. 

What is thinblood alchemy? 

Good fucking question. Professionally, I’d say it’s the combination of high resonances with vampiric vitae and proper catalyzing substances to replicate vampiric disciplines or new powers completely. Among friends, I say it’s walking around my haven, tits out, ingesting random household items to see what happens. 

How long has thinblood alchemy been a thing?

I’ve been trying to pinpoint how long thinblood alchemy has been around and I haven’t been able to find many sources giving concrete answers. It's like they want us eradicated so our notes and research were destroyed with us. The easy answer is thinblood alchemy started booming in the late 20th century with the drug scene. Which is true. With widespread access to technology, information, and the invention of online stores- acquiring the necessary gear is easy. 

However, thinblood alchemy has been around a lot longer. I have been fortunate enough with my thinblood safehouse project to be allowed to see old notebooks passed down from alchemists- some dating from the 1980s and one delicate diary from 1947. I’m not at all surprised when the alchemists who possess these relics feel tremendous responsibility to preserve them. But there are even rarer and older documents. The alchemy notes from the dark ages work for our formulas- if you can translate their coded notes. So in truth, thinblood alchemy has been around since the creation of clan Tremere- or even earlier. 

So how does it work?

Thinblood alchemy is not like other disciplines you may have seen or used. Lots of kindred of the 13th generation or lower are embraced and immediately possess control of their disciplines. Most alchemists wouldn’t describe their craft as something that came naturally to them- it took weeks, months, or even years to experiment and find what works. Additionally, this is not a practice for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. To get the necessary ingredients requires some unsavory acts- it is a fact as true as the beast within us. 

Across the board, you need vitae. Doesn’t always have to be yours but it is awfully convenient to use what you’ve got inside. Cool you got blood, and it's yours because it’s in your possession. Now what? You need something to put it in. But it can’t be just anything. Much like a tremere needs very specific tools to do some rituals, thinblood alchemists need an alchemical cauldron or furnace. There are currently three possible ways to procure such a furnace which have developed into the three distillation methods.

The first is my preferred method. The fancy latin some of us use is Athanor Corporis, meaning furnace body. I utilize my own stomach as my alchemical cauldron. After eating or drinking the necessary ingredients, I can will the blood to ignite the furnace. Most of the time it just kinda feels like a heat radiating beneath my ribcage. On occasion it has felt as bad as taking rapid fire bullets to my gut and then pouring vinegar onto the holes...but it's rare. The benefit of this method is it allows me to keep the power or discipline in my system for extended periods of time- sometimes even as long as a month. I also can travel a lot of the ingredients on my person, swallow them, and then hunt down the right resonance. It's a very versatile method that lends itself well to being discreet. The downside is, this is a one power at a time method. If I consume a new formula, it replaces the original power. Which is a bummer and why proper planning is important. Additionally, not every thinblood has the gullet to do this. I can speak from very personal experience that I have eaten and swallowed some terrible tasting things. There are some that even I found myself vomiting back up and then immediately racked with hunger. Those that use this method have given some extreme criticism that they had to train themselves to keep stuff down or chase it with so much vitae that they nearly bond themselves. 

The second method I find morally uncomfortable and I refuse to try it. This one’s called calcinato. Instead of using your own body- which you know can’t die from drinking bleach because it's already dead, you use human vessels. You can emotionally manipulate them to match the resonance you need. You can also use drugs. You can also use sex. Then you feed them with the proper ingredients and your own vitae, and their entire body activates the formula. The alchemist can then drink a number of doses from that vessel until their resonance changes or there’s no blood left. There are a few benefits to this method. I have a sharp nose which allows me to smell resonances. I imagine that if I lacked this innate ability, finding and tapping resonances would be far more difficult or left to chance. This ensures you are getting a specific resonance every time. Additionally, the time it takes to drink from that vessel can be faster than I can swallow new ingredients and will the blood to brew. I’d possibly be hungrier, they could be full. Lastly, a thinblood that uses this method is possibly in the enviable position of possessing a herd. If they are, they could easily have multiple brews in many people- making them more prepared than I could be with pockets full of magnets. The downsides to this method are numerous- besides my personal grievances. The first is that this method quickly lends itself to masquerade breaches. Taking a bite from your vessel in the open is not a possibility if you care to play the masquerade game. Secondly, if you are separated from your vessel, what do you do? If the alchemist is someone who coerced or drugged their victims into doing this, what happens when they escape? And if they do possess a herd, what happens when your stock is depleted? Agh, it makes my stomach turn just referring to people like that ew. The second issue is the same as the first method- one power per body. 

The third method is more common but harder to distill. This method closely mirrors actual alchemy from the dark ages, where all the ingredients are poured into the athanor and distilled inside. The furnace needs to be able to conduct heat. You can use a kiln, a metalworking furnace, or modern inventions like an electric pressure cooker or as its nickname “cooking” suggests, get a meth cooker. Some asshole dubbed it fixatio once trying to give it a better street name. But since Breaking Bad aired, that name is never going to stick. Once distilled, the resulting formula can be bagged or bottled for future use. This method has the most benefits- but also the most disadvantages. It’s that reason I prefer the first method, but I have dabbled into this one to expand my knowledge.  The first benefit is that the alchemy is portable. You don’t have to hunt or lead a vessel around. You can hold a lot of different formulas inside jackets, backpacks, pockets, or my favorite i’ve ever seen- a ren faire waterskin. You can be prepared for lots of encounters, but it still takes time to imbibe the entire dose. The other benefit is its lucrative possibilities. Selling these means money in pockets. And money lets you go buy more weird shit for more alchemy. It’s also excellent for quick favors. The downsides are you have to be cautious of who you’re selling to. A lot of alchemists who use this are also drug dealers and plenty of final deaths have occured from people selling on someone else’s turf. Additionally, each brewed formula is unique to their alchemist. In intelligent hands cough TREMERE (or even an alchemist armed with Tremere secrets) it can be traced back to you… or worse. Travelling around with blood bags, vials, or a waterskin can be tricky too. You have to take care that you don’t burst or break any of these creations. Oh you fell? Better hide that pool of blood spilling out from your sweatshirt pocket. On top of that, most of these aren’t shelf stable. And even if they are kept cold- some still can’t make it more than a few days before it spoils. Like the two methods before, it is a one power at a time rule. Once consumed, you gotta use whatever you drank immediately or it will fade. Lastly, the reason this is more difficult is because it requires more powerful ingredients and a stationary lab. Substitutions don’t tend to work- you gotta have the best you can get. Which gets difficult when high level preparations demand rarer and rarer ingredients.

Each alchemist is going to have their own research methods, however most of us are resorting to trial and error. However, we unanimously agree that you need to brush up on modern chemistry and learn how to hunt for specific resonances. I’ve come to learn that my sharp nose is a trait not just present in thinbloods and by some older kindred it has been dubbed “bloodhound.” I have been fortunate that I don’t need to rely on wit and observation to figure out what resonance my potential victim has. I smell it. However, those without this ability have to learn to pinpoint emotional responses and their corresponding resonance. Put simply, there are five possible resonances: Melancholic, Phlegmatic, Choleric, Sanguine, and Absent. Melancholic resonances tend to be associated with relaxation and calmness but also sadness and fear. Easy targets are stoners, funeral goers, and horror movie newbies. To me, this has an overwhelming sour smell and tart taste. Phlegmatic is content and happiness, but can also be feeling in control. This one can be one of the hardest to pinpoint, since happy feelings blend so effectively with choleric and sanguine resonances. Phlegmatic resonances have a salty smell to them. Choleric is rage and anger, but it also can be passionate and driven. Choleric resonances are typically spicy flavors, and are some of the easiest to recognize. It’s hard to mistake true anger for anything else. Sanguine is also joy and happiness, but also includes how horny someone is. Sanguine resonances are easy to find in flirtatious club goers and generally have a sugar sweet aroma. Lastly, there are those who are completely uncaring and have no resonance. This apathy is extremely difficult to pinpoint- even with my nose as it has the smell of nothing. The only distinguishable thing is that it has an overpowering bitter taste. 

Regardless of whether or not a thinblood is an alchemist, they can take advantage of these resonances to grant themselves temporary power. Most kindred need the resonance to be exceptionally potent to gain these benefits. However, thinbloods are hypersensitive to even fleeting resonances. Most of us have pieced the puzzle together that biting into a club goer equals a bit of presence for the next couple hours. But for alchemists, especially those brewing outside the body, hunting and preserving these resonances is essential for alchemy. Most resonances flicker away within fifteen minutes out of a body, so you have to act fast to get it into the formula and start brewing. 

Once the proper resonance is obtained and mixed with ingredients in the furnace, it’s pretty obvious of whether or not it worked. If it works, you have the discipline or new power until the brew is used up. If it fails, at best nothing happens. At worst, I’ve had some rough stomach aches if brewed internally. I’ve also had some mild explosions or acid seep through objects. Failure can be devastating. But it’s just a fact of the practice. 

So if it's a practice, why can only thinbloods do this?

I don’t know. I don’t think lower gen kindred can learn this. Looking at how disciplines can be gained for older vampires doesn’t seem to match how thinblood alchemy works. It much more closely resembles the paths that Tremere apprentices can choose to learn- but even they couldn’t pick up these tricks. My adoptive sire, a Tremere, tried to mimic our findings and found she could not will the blood like I or my coterie mates could. Perhaps this was part of her clan’s history and curse. However, I’ve not had other clans ever try. To most, the thought of consuming anything but blood churns their undead stomach. Some of you can’t even ingest bagged blood. The ability to eat is a rare trait in older kindred but fairly common for thinbloods. Perhaps this is why it works for us.

Additionally, thinblood alchemy allows us to replicate disciplines but also create new powers entirely. These powers may be unusable to the other clans. And I don’t mean that in the secretive way that Necromancy or Levinbolt is. Your blood is too strong and therefore isn’t affected by the slight changes in resonance and mere drops of vitae in a brew. But to a hungry thinblood, three drops of vitae, some fridge magnets, and choleric blood means we have telekinesis. 

I’m young. And if I keep playing my cards right and brewing my alchemy correctly, I’ll still be here in 40 years and hopefully can refute this entire thing with the years of knowledge I possess. But I hope this answers some questions to how alchemy works, and leaves you with plenty more for us to bargain favors for answers.

#vtm #thinblood alchemy #thinblood alchemy is wack #hazel answers questions #long post

[monkeymindscream]

You've had Warden Wrath hcs, what about our dear Emperor Belos?

Of COURSE I have headcanons for Emperor Belos I love him!!

- He is ridiculously charismatic. This is the guy who managed to gain the support of an entire populace and radically alter their way life shortly after appearing seemingly from nowhere. Even if we assume that the majority of that influence came from people believing he could talk to the Titan, he still would’ve had to make them believe he could in the first place. A big part of the borderline-worship admiration his subjects have for him stems from his people skills back before he shut himself up in his castle.

- Pumpdrake spice season is his favorite time of year. What is a pumpdrake, you ask? It’s the botanical Frankenstein of a pumpkin and a mandrake. Instead of “carving jack’o’lanterns,” the tradition on the Boiling Isles is to hunt and slay the pumpdrake with the face/expression you want. Afterwards you gut your kill then display its rigor-mortis-ridden carcass on your porch or in your window or something. The guts themselves are super flavorful, with the smaller, more yellow-y ones being more savory (often used in soups and things) and the darker orange ones being sweet (the aforementioned pumpdrake spice). EB will eagerly consume literally anything containing pumpdrake spice in it. — Also: Like on Earth, there’s kind of a stigma against openly liking pumpdrake spice, because God forbid anyone be allowed to like harmless things on this wretched plain of existence. It’s a good way to get yourself labeled as “basic,” actually. Enter our Emperor, gracefully not giving a damn. Should he ever come across anyone complaining about people liking pumpdrake spice, he’d likely take great pleasure in materializing behind them and politely interjecting, “Well I happen to quite like pumpdrake spice, actually; would you care to explain to me why you’re so offended by it?” then quietly enjoy the rest of his drink as they shat themselves and tried to backpedal. — I have no idea how he enjoys the aforementioned drink while wearing his mask. Maybe he pours it into his eyes like he did with the palisman innards; maybe he has some sort of proboscis that pokes out from under his mask that he uses to slurp it up. Maybe he just uses a straw. Who’s to say.

- He has a genuine soft spot for Kikimora. This derives solely from the fact that he called her “Kiki” at the end of Young Blood, Old Souls. Like yes I know Lilith called her “Kiki” too and they obviously didn’t care for each other, but look: as far as we’d seen up until that moment EB referred to people almost exclusively by their formal full name/an unshortened form of their first name (“Edalyn/Lilith Clawthorne”), or by a derisive title (“Human”). But he gave Kikimora a (seemingly honestly affectionate??) nickname of sorts. Plus she’s essentially his face and mouth when he either doesn’t feel like making public appearances or just plain can’t - that has to imply at least some level of trust there. — Kiki’s fully aware of this, and is insufferably smug about it. She’s lucky the Isles’ Top Dog likes her, because literally no one else does. (She’s not particularly bothered.)

- Romance is his favorite book genre, believe it or not. Or at least it would be if the writers on the Boiling Isles could step away from clichés for five freaking seconds. — DO NOT GET HIM STARTED ON PINIET PUBLISHING HOUSE THEIR BOOKS ARE THE WORST OFFENDERS OF THEM ALL. Hell, their books are the reason half those clichés are even clichés to begin with - they mass produce utter shit. He’s wanted to petrify righteously arrest Piniet for years, but Kiki always stops him by pointing out that the publishing company’s books are wildly popular amongst his coven (the whole Isle, really, but speaking specifically here) and destroying the source would likely cause a massive dip in morale. And anyway, he hasn’t technically done anything legally wrong that they could bring him in for - it’s ultimately more trouble than it’s worth.

- He’s fucking clueless when it comes to some of the actual responsibilities that come with keeping an empire running. Don’t get me wrong, he understands there are certain things that need to get done, and he understands why they need to be done. He just doesn’t have the instincts for how. Like if some official-whoever were to come up to him and ask him “Emperor,  how do you plan to stimulate the economy in some of the Isles’ poorer areas?” he’d be lost. Fuck if he knows, man, how is one person supposed to be able to answer that?? He knows magic - he has dissected magic down to its core and could list the names of all its squishy bits by heart. He knows greater-scope things. He does not know how to break-up infighting between two townships. — When he’s asked questions like this, he will usually respond by looking to his right. Kiki (who was standing there, waiting) will then promptly step forward, say something to the effect of “The Emperor has discussed this issue with me previously, he is of the mind that-” and will then offer a suggestion. No one questions it because well the Emperor is sitting literally right there, so obviously if he had any issues with it he’d have punted the little gremlin into orbit by now, right? Everyone just assumes EB doesn’t feel like repeating himself when he’s already discussed it with his assistant. Truth is Kiki pulled that out of her ass on the spot. Lucky for the Isles she’s good at her job. — This plays a big part in why EB’s likes Kiki so much. She takes a good chunk of responsibility and stress off his shoulders so he can focus on whatever mysterious tasks the Titan may (or may not we’ll have to see) be instructing him to complete.

- His omnipresent/all-seeing shtick comes from his connection to the Titan. By virtue of the Isle literally being made from their body, the Titan is, essentially, everywhere. Therefore, EB’s awareness spreads everywhere. This has limits, obviously, since at the end of the day EB’s just one person and can only split his focus so many ways (not to mention it takes more energy to “see” the farther he looks away from his physical self), but it’s still more than what most people can do. Even more than what most Oracle witches can do.

- He takes abysmal care of himself. Yes, I know, it’s shocking to think that the guy who��s dumping magic goop into his face wouldn’t be a paragon of self-care, but trust me on this one. He will go days without sleep then get frustrated that his body is behaving so sluggishly; he’ll neglect to eat until his stomach is so empty it’s cramping, and he’ll still put it off for “just a bit more, it can wait for just a little longer.” The man is a disaster. — This also actually stems from his connection with the Titan. Over time, EB has become so entwined with it (see: its heart beating faster when he’s agitated/excited) that his own body has slowly stopped registering its own needs. Its attuned to what the Titan needs, and the Titan doesn’t need anything. Which is a flawed fucking system, really, because he still needs everything, he just has no way to gauge when or how much anymore.

- The reason the main nine covens are “the main nine” is specifically because they’re each a track of magic that EB is proficient in. And as the creator of the coven system, he got first say in which ones were quote “important.”

I have more (because if left sit long enough I could talk about my favorite characters for days) but a good chunk of what’s left kind of move out of “headcanon” territory and into “theories,” so I’ll stop here. If anyone’s interested in hearing the theories (or AUs, or ships, or whatever) feel free to send an ask and I’ll ramble some more.

#owl house #muttering about owls #Emperor Belos #testingforcake23

[stuffedronpa-trash]

Trade with @despair-tummy

Mondo groaned with the effort of just putting on his regular clothes. Ever since he had quit his gang so he could study to become a carpenter, it was hard to remember to eat while in the midst of studying and tests. Ishimaru soon caught on, and forced Mondo to eat three pretty big meals a day so he could keep up his energy. It’s not that Mondo really cared, it’s not like a few extra pounds really hurt anyone, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Taka wasn’t just doing this because of his energy.

Every time his stomach peeked out of his shirt, Ishimaru would get flustered as fuck. It was a particularly funny sight to behold, his courteous boyfriend getting so worked up over his stomach. Sometimes Mondo even flashed his stomach on purpose just to spark his humorous reactions.

Mondo finally got his shirt to slip on and walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast with Taka. The smell of bacon and syrup wafted through the air making his mouth water. Ishimaru usually cooked healthier meals, but hey, hey wasn’t complaining.

“ Ah! Good morning, Mondo!” Taka greeted him from the kitchen table. Twelve strips of bacon, six pancakes, and a cup of coffee were strewn around the table, and it made Mondo excited as ever.

Mondo pecked Taka on the forehead and sat down opposite of him. “ Damn babe, this all looks so good! I have no idea where to start..” Everything had been cooked to perfection. The bacon wasn’t too charred, and the pancakes weren’t too doughy. If Ishimaru wasn’t the Ultimate Moral Compass, maybe he could have been the Ultimate Cook.

“ Well, dig in! I hope you enjoy it,” Ishimaru smiled, watching Mondo intently. With an invitation like that, Mondo didn’t dare hesitate. He instantly grabbed a piece of bacon and stuffed it in his mouth. The flavor was incredible. Not too charred, but not too fatty either.

“ Wow Taka, did you make this yourself?” Mondo asked through his full mouth. He swallowed and quickly ate another piece. And another. Until finally he had eaten the whole plate.

“ Of course! You know I love to cook, especially for you.” Takas eyes were focused downwards. As Mondo followed his gaze, he noticed that his stomach had slightly distended.

“ Oh? Are you enjoying this?” Mondo teased, pulling up his shirt so he could display his stomach in its full glory. Takas face went from a pale blush to a deep crimson.

“ I- I just think you wear it well!” Ishimaru stuttered. Mondo only laughed and shook his head.

“ It’s fine babe. I do like being pampered by you.” Mondo smiled, gesturing to all the good that had been prepared. “ You already know this, but when I was a kid, we didn’t eat too much. It’s nice to have full meals.”

“ Well… I’m glad you enjoy it,” Taka smiled. Mondo let out a large chuckle.

“ I absolutely enjoy it! I like feeling full, it’s comforting.” He looked down at his own stomach. He had gained around twenty five pounds, and instead of embarrassment, he felt pride. Mondo smiled with content and continued with his breakfast.

He dug into the pancakes. They were drenched in sugary syrup and savory butter. They were so, so fluffy. The taste made his tongue tingle. Taka really was a great cook. He could make the most stoic man cry tears of joy from the sheer taste of his food.

He was now eating a bit slower as he scraped the remains of the pancakes into his mouth. “ Jeez Taka, this was an amazing breakfast!” Mondo smiled. He undid his belt a notch to give himself some room to breathe.

“ I’m glad you enjoyed it!” Taka smiled. Mondo felt his eyes start to droop as a food coma started to come on. The male yawned and got up, rubbing his eyes.

“ I’m going to head off to bed, I’m feeling a bit drowsy.” Mondo yawned, patting Ishimaru on the shoulder.”

“ But darling, you have your homework to do!” The black haired male protested, grabbing Mondos hand to keep him from leaving.

“ I can do it when I wake up, I won’t sleep for that long, just a quick cat nap.” Mondo tugged his hand free and headed to his room.

It was there when Mondo really got a good look at his belly. He felt pretty darn full, but not to the point where he was uncomfortable. It had protruded a few inches more, and no amount of tugging would keep his shirt pulled down.

He shrugged it off. Hell, he didn’t care, and Taka obviously didn’t either. He pulled off his shirt, which was harder than putting it on since it was so tightly snug on him, and laid down on his bed, slowly succumbing to slumber.

“ Ah fuck…” Mondo had overslept, like he often did. He looked down at his stomach, which had seemed to have gained a few extra rolls when he was asleep. He poked it in curiosity, and let out a breathy laugh when it jiggled back. He slipped his shirt back on so he would look more presentable.

He left his room to get his computer, his stomach was spilling out of his shirt and sagged down, obviously visible. Taka sat on the couch, doing his own homework.

“ Heya babe.” He grunted, grabbing his computer from the coffee table and sitting down beside him. Ishimaru looked up in surprise before seeing it was only Mondo.

“ I thought you were only taking a short nap,” He teased. Mondo smiled sheepishly.

“ Yeah, well I had to sleep off that food coma. Still think I wear this well?” Mondo smirked, showing off his belly to Taka.

Taka immediately started blushing. “ W-well of course! You look amazing!” He stuttered, trying his best to hide his face.

Mondo laughed hysterically, before his stomach let out a loud growl of hunger. He must have gotten used to the frequent and heavy meals, huh?

“ So, what's for lunch?”

Word count: 1006

#stuffedronpa #my fics #stuffed ronpa

[dahniwitchoflight]

fucking, god, he called his ship Theseus. Oh god im not ready to face this epilogue stuff in actual visual form oh jeesus

Dirk, Dirk pls. no one can take you seriously now that we can actually SEE your Villain-Sona. 

oh god, the second hand embarassment is real.

Alright so there seems to be like, a tinge of Rose existing as her own person, doing things that Dirk dislikes, but its in conversation only, so it seems facetious.

The other true thing though is the narrative is entirely Dirk’s perspective, and Dirk is exactly the kind of person who would absolutely love and believe he was capable of subsuming another person’s soul and idealogy entirely, but we went through this deceit in the epilogues with John and Roxy as well, with John’s unquetionaing hold on reality and what is canon also seeming to have an unconcious warping effect to whatever John thought was important, but Roxy gave a good point of how do you even know you did this and i didn’t choose it or wouldnt have chose it? you dont

So we could see that being repeated here, either as a parallel of that or a subversion, remains to be seen

“ Speaking of which, I think it's time I started undoing some of the more egregious mistakes this story has been subjected to over the years. Yes, I'm talking about that guy. The other orange one. Remember him? Vriska got stalked by him a bit and it was uncomfortable for everyone concerned. Anyway, the point is that he fucked up big time, and I'm here to clean up the horseshit. It's time to get this story back on the rails, back to what it was always supposed to be. I know it, and you've somehow always known it too. There was something else, some other route that Homestuck was meant to take but then didn't, a way that wouldn't've spent so much time dicking around with stuff nobody cares about. Like seriously, why did we all have to sit through talking about everyone's most intimate and private feelings for two hundred thousand fucking words. That would never have happened in Act 1. Where did it all go wrong? “

lol the andrew hussie is peeking through a bit here, so Homestuck2 is gonna be the exact thing I figured a sequel would be, its going to be a sort of retelling of the story, but its gonna flip the importance for certain things in the opposite directions, so right here its saying Homestuck is a story with a layer of importance on the characters themselves and their mindsets and how they lived in the environment they found themselves in, with the lore and the conceit of the story being a huge creation story more of a backdrop than the focus

so Homestuck2 is going to be a more "creation story” focused more on the sburb lore, buts its going to have less of a focus on the characters (perhaps even to the detrimnet? maybe characters will seem strange and out of character? but he kinda already made that feeling i the audience with the epilogues, thats what that intended effect was)

and neither one i think will turn out to better or worse than the others, theres definitely going to be benefit and downsides for both, but its not hard to see that Homestuck1 is the story that Hussie wanted to Tell, and Homestuck2 is how he’s changing it and telling a different story than he originally would have in the first place

not that hes changing Homestucks orignal story at all, but now hes telling a decidedly different one

Thus far, even though I understand Dirk’s basic mindset being “Hussie’s story sucks im gonna tell a BETTER one” and deciding that he alones gets to decide others will is unquestionably villainous train of thought, like why cant we let the characters just decide for themselves what kind of story they wanted to have and be genuine..

I AM dying of curiosity to see what sort of lore and information were going to get out of this, especially with the twist of that sort of focus being brought more into view, it’s a tantalizing glimpse of something very sexy that im into...

WORLDBUILDING :p

The World of Homestuck to me, HAS always been more infinitely exciting and interesting to me than the characters themselves, even though i liked them fine, they werent the reason why i kept reading the story for sure

Anything little thing we get about sburb or the world system out of this im happy with, regardless of what happens to the characters

(Would that be considered a villainous mindset if I was in canon? maybe ^^; good thing im not lol it does give off very “evil mad scientist morally corrupt experiments” kind of vibe lolol)

“ Look, I know what you're all really craving. I've been studying canon—or rather, what's left of it—and I think I've found it. The critical moment, in the wake of which everything started to take a nosedive into the protracted, endless slog of sheer insufferability we got saddled with near the end. This was the single most crucial error in the process that led to the present situation. The day when the story was wrested screaming from the arms of its readers like a bawling infant and carried helplessly away, from then on to be raised according to the whims of a masochistic menace with no thought for you, the common fan. “

I do have to laugh at this though, because your not wrong??? but also, it was inevitable that a story that started out like homestuck and was written like homestuck and ended like homestuck would inevitably turn out the way it did

it was a communal product of the screaming masses that turned into a singular mans story, it was unfortunately going to lose something to everyone, because everyones ideas couldnt all coexist in one canon at the same time (thats what outside of canon is for)

and then Dirk does something I DIDNT expect him to do

“Channelling my full potential as an ascended player of Heart, I expand my consciousness to commune with the boundless force of collective willpower that is the internet. My mind floods with its divine potency, a million formless cries coalescing into a sequence of discrete, formal instructions. It is a maelstrom as chaotic as it is deafening. And yet from this formless, uninterrupted spate of hard, unembellished data, a single suggestion takes form, as if bubbling up from a vast, infinite ocean of possibility. It is a whispered prayer to a compassionate god whose ear attends faithfully the will of his believers.Ok, let's see what you chucklefucks came up with.“

instead of entirely subsuming other’s will like a villain would, he has instead opened up his heart and conciousness to absorb the ideas, suggestions and wills of the masses, he is literally trying to bring back the act1 flavor of homestuck by taking suggestions, be he is ironically doing something no different than hussie did by curating and choosing which one to respond to

hah! he really does think he is the hero of this universe with Hussie as some sort of villain. 

So Hussie has probably intentionally curated this idea of himself as “Author Villain” who drives the story seemingly into mud by seeming to reject and upend the audiences expectation rather than curate them and bringing forth the best out, 

this happens with the epilogues undoubtedly, 

and this environment has gown a character from inside the story to step out and try to “oust” him from this position and instead tell a “good” story one that “everyone” wants, but is in fact detrimental to the story and world that the characters inside it themselves wants, which is was Hussie curated the whims to in the epilogues instead of the audience

So maybe this will be a “good” story, and hit all the marks for what the audience wanted originally, but there is no benevolent force to make sure a happy ending exists for any of the characters inside of it, because what the characters want doesnt matter anymore, only the lore does

#Homestuck 2 #Homestuck #Homesquared

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

What you are part 1

Posting this one on Tumbles first for no real reason.

Summary: Remus wants to help the Light Sides come up with ideas for a new video. Things go very wrong

Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, Sympathetic Remus, Sympathetic Deceit, Virgil goes through an arc in part 2 but is questionable here, there's a Daddy joke, dick mention, ass eating mention, but nothing actually sexual happens in the fic, mild gore mention, hanging mention, candy animal death, ask for more warnings, practice self care because this gets bad

Remus was, by his nature, loud. His clothes were loud, his hair was loud, fuck even his steps were loud. Which made trying to sneak past Deceit a futile effort.

Yet still Remus crept into the Darkside living room. Like all parts of Thomas's mind, it was set up like the main living room, but small changes made the differences between the rooms clear. The paint was peeled, each sliver curled inwards like claws. Instead of a painting with abstract circles, there was one with a series of eyes that seemed to follow you around the room. The stairs had caution tape and cones that discouraged entry, the room was bathed in a sinister green light.

And there on the couch sat Deceit, back straight, engrossed in a book about David Hume. All Remus had to do is get to his spot and sink-

"Evening Remus." The snake said without looking up.

"Fuck- I mean Hi Deeeeeee-lightful." The positive nickname made Deceit's nose crinkle slightly, which made Remus feel slightly less on edge.

"Where are you going?" His tone was smooth and casual, he even flipped to the next page of his book, trying to pretend that this was a normal event.

"STRAIGHT TO HELL!" Remus cackled, but it did little to lighten the tensity of the situation if anything the silence that followed made things feel worse. He gripped the edge of his shirt, "This is the exact silence that comes before someone makes just the LOUDEST fart, like the kind you'd want to light a fire under and watch the building burn with cause there's just so much gas-"

"You're going to see them, aren't you?" Deceit's voice held no emotion but Remus could feel it nonetheless. He knew this looked exactly like what happened when Virgil left. The one time he went over, followed by hours of talking about how nice it felt to Finally feel listened to even if they did hate him. He grew a fanbase, the others slowly seemed to get used to his prescence and valued his imput.

He was happy, and they were happy for him.

The last time they saw him was when he ducked out, Deceit had yelled at him about how much Thomas NEEDED him, how much danger he was putting their host in, and for what? To feel more appreciated by THEM?

Virgil had argued back, until Deceit realized he wasn't going to listen to him anymore and left him to get some non-anxiety -filled air and tea for the both of them. The door was gone when he came back.

If the same thing happened with Remus, the only person Deceit would have left was Rage and, while certainly useful and not the worst, they weren't nearly as close.

Remus moved closer to the couch just to drape over it and by proxy Deceit, "Awww, if I didn't know better I'd say you were worried about me Little Dee~ relax, I'm just going over to see if they need help with the next video."

Deceit scoffed, "I'd never miss you. You're an absolute nuscience to everyone." In the corner of his lips though there was a smile and of course Remus noticed and poked his cheek.

"You loooooooooove me~!"

"I have never loved anyone or anything in my life." He deadpanned. Remus howled with laughter at that one he wiped a tear from his eye.

"Ah, that's a good one. Don't worry too much D-cup," he said casually waving his hand, "I'll be back by dinner."

He moved to his spot prepared to sink out, when he heard Deceit say wity more sincerity he thought the side was capable of, "Be careful."

Remus gave a loud, "HA! I don't know the meaning of the word!" Deceit gave a long suffering sign and Remus couldn't help the devilish smile that came to his lips, but the genuine concern in Deceit's eye made his stomach churn with guilt so he added, "But I will." Before sinking out.

"WHADDUP SLUTS?!" He shouted one arm in the air and the other on his hips as he entered in Roman's typical spot. Patton and Virgil were the only ones here, which made sense. Logan doing research on the next video's topic and Roman brain storming and all. Virgil growled at him the minute he stepped in, but stopped when Patton put a hand on his shoulder.

"We promised we'd give him a chance Virge." He said softly.

Virgil shoved his hands in his pocket, "Whatever, if he's staying I'm going."

Remus waved his hand "Alright then, bye bitch."

Virgil blew a raspberry at him and sunk out.

Patton took a deep breath rubbing between his eyes, "Alright Pat Pat, be calm, you can do this." Then, he smiled at Remus as if nothing just happened, "Hi kiddo, it's nice to see you again!"

Remus snorted, "I thought you were against lying Morality," he made his voice high, "Because it's woooooong. "

Patgon cocked his head, "Whaddaya mean? It is nice to see you!"

Remus's smile widened, "Like it's nice to see... THIS," He waved his hand and Patton was greated with the image of a body hanging from the ceiling with their own intestine serving as the rope.

Patton cringed at the image and wrapped his arms against himself, "Do you HAVE to do that?"

Remus shrugged, "It's what I do daddy dearest, emphasis on the DADDY."

Patton groaned, "Dear God, please don't-" he breathed in through his nose, " Alright, it 's okay, you are allowed to be you. "

Remus put his chin in his hands, "Always great to have your permission to be here. "

Patton shook his head, "Let's start from the begining-"

Remus got prepared to restart his musical number when Patton cut him off, "NO!" Patton cleared his throat, "Ha no no no, the begining of this conversation. Did you come here for a reason kiddo?"

Remus blinked, did he? Oh, right! "I was wondering if I could help Roman and Logan with the next episode?" For a split second there was a flicker of pleading in Remus's eyes, he really wanted this, of course he did. He was a part of Creativity after all.

Patton nodded, "Of course! We'd love to have you involved."

Remus shook his head like a flabbergasted cartoon, "bbhihbjgbgjv Whaaaaa? "

Patton laughed, "Oh you~ Dark sides can be so silly! I said we'd love to have you involved as long as you have things that are worth acknowledging." He walked up to Remus , put his hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye, Rdmus stiffened, the eye contact putting him on edge. He looked away and Patton moved to cup Remus's face in his hand, "Look at me, hey, hey look at me."

He pushed Remus's face to look at him and stroked his head, "I know I messed up before," he sniffled, "I messed up real bad because I didn't understand you. Now, now I do and," he burried his head in Remus's shoulder who shuffled a big, feeling uncomfortable. "I promise I'll never make the same mistake. You were always one of us Remus, and I-I was wrong to think otherwise. "

Remus wished he'd get off of him, he hated how trapped he felt in Patton's arms. He hated how he felt guilty even though he knew it wasn't his fault Patton was crying. "Okay." He said simply. He hated that that was the only thing he could think to say. He was getting a chance to be with the Light sides, to have an open voice in Thomas's mind with seemingly no drawbacks and all he could think to say was, 'okay '?!

Patton wiped his eyes, "Alright, " loud sniff, "Let's go then!"

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

The light side of the Imagination was just as bright and cheery as Remus remembered it from the split. The sky was a brilliant blue, the trees ranged from as tall as mountains to as small as a pinball. It was rare that you could find two that were exactly the same, some had this cotton candy leaves and candied apples hanging from them, while others seemed normal, until you noticed that they danced gently despite the lack of a breeze. 

Remus took a hold of a licorace vine and watched it wiggle and twist into a hissing red snake in his hands. Patton gave a squeak of fear and backed up; Remus bit off its head, spreading cherry flavored blood and viscera around the area. He gave a small hum, "Not bad, he managed to keep the flavor and considering the grass isn't wilting and he doesn't know I'm here, he's gotten WAY more powerful." 

 He turned towards Patton, mouth covered with the jam, "Want some?" 

Patton quickly shook his head, "No, no I don't. Hey, I have a fun game to play while we're here, it's called, 'don't touch and ruin Roman's beautiful perfect creations!'"

"But I'm not!" He whinned.

Patton pet the top of his head, "I know you're not doing it on purpose sweetie, it's just who you are." He pat his knees, "Just keep your hands right here until we meet up with Roman okay?"

Remus didn't know why this got to him so much, after all he wasn't being silenced, just told not to touch things for now. His hands twitched the entire walk towards Roman, the inability to touch anything around him made the short walk feel like it took ages, but nonetheless they sucessfully made it to Roman's castle. It reminded him of the castle at Disneyland, a tall, bright white beast of a thing made of several towers with red tips.

Remus couldn't help his small smie when he looked slightly to the left over a nearbye hill and saw the castle of The Dragon Witch still standing. She'd been one of his favorites when they were younger, coming up with her schemes and Roman foiling them. His heart ached slightly with nostalgia, unti he felt Patton tug on his arm gently.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Patton said with a cock of his head.

 "I missed this place." Remus's voice was quiet as he soaked in the details of the area. 

Patton put his arm around Remus's shoulder and squeezes it hard enough to make Remus flinch, "Oh you softie!" He chuckles, "Come on, let's go inside." As soon as they reached the archway two half-wolf creature guards stopped them in their tracks, pointig their spears at the pair. Patton showed his crest and they nodded.

"Sir Patton, we of course recognize you, but we cannot allow that," the sword was placed under Remus's chin, "FIEND to enter and hurt our Prince."

Remus pouted, "Awww, is the widdle pwince too scared to fight me head on?"

Patton ignored him, "Good knights we swear we will not attempt to harm the 

More loudly he said, "Stop pretending you're not listening  through your proxies and FIGHT ME you COWARD!" There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes as the doors to the castle swung open, a shadowy figure stood in the doorway dramatic fog behind him, "You dare call me a coward?" The voice of the shadow was Roman, clear as day. He stepped into the sunlight, sword in hand, "Those are fighting wor -"

Before he could finish, he was tackle hugged by Patton. "Roman!" The Prince in question laughed, "Patton! This sure is a surprise. What are you doing here?"

Patton gave his prettiest smile, "Well, Remus wanted to help you brainstorm a bit for the next video. "

"And you're okay with that?"

"Absolutely! As long as I'm allowed to watch and make sure nothing bad happens this should all go fine. "

Roman looked at Patton for a few moments, mulling it over before nodding and motioning the guards away from Remus. Remus strut to his side, "Well it's about time Prince Boring." 

Roman hit him on the head with the blunt side of his blade, making Remus crumple to the ground surprised at the motion, "That was for when you snuck up behind me on camera. "He leaned down and flicked his nose, "And that was for calling me a coward." 

Remus rubbed his nose, a slightly dazed look on his face, "Ah Rominiature you haven't changed a bit!"

 Roman sighs, "It's a HALF INCH."

Remus bleps, "Still taaaaaaller~!"

Roman rolls his eyes, and starts walking inside, Patton follows behind leaving Remus outside for a while until he finally feels okay enough to join them inside. 

 "So what kind of dicks do your dog creatures have?" Remus asked as soon as he returned to the pair's side. Patton made a choking noise but Roman didn't respond for a while.

"I actually haven't thought about what their species is like in... That way." Roman mused, "It might help my worldbuilding in a round about way." A small red poof of a cloud appeared with thr words, 'How would gender roles work in a society where the amount of children born is at least 3?" 

Remus shrugged, "I was thinking porn but hey. there are millions of ways to take my suggestions! Ohhh, do you think they do bloodsports to stop overpopulation? "A small green cloud apeared too, but was Patton clapped his hands and it vanished. 

"Sorry! I just don't think that's the kind of story we want to write! I mean that's a super dark thing to have in a world with human-dog hybrids and cotton candy trees!" Patton's voice was simple, his reasoning made sense.

"Oh." Remus said quietly, his stomach churned he knew Patton wasn't wrong, of course he wasn't, but everything felt so dizzyingly familiar.

Roman pat him on the back twice and gave the kind of smile that could light up the world, the kind that reminded Remus why Roman kept the role of Prince, "Don't get too mopy about that bother-oh-mine. We were supposed to be brainstorming about the video remember?"

 Remus gave a small smile and nodded, "Of course. Yeah." And so it began , and Remus watched as one by one his concepts were clapped out of existance by Patton. 

'What if Thomas had to deal with not knowing whether he's ready to go to bone town with a partner?' Clapped out because they don't need to talk about 'that kind of thing' when kids could be watching! 'What about an episode where Thomas has to deal with the loss of a loved one, maybe even one he has mixed feelings towards!' Clapped for being too depressing, it'd get everyone down! 'One where Thomas has to debate his own safety after a robbery nearby?' Clapped because it could lead to talking about violence or worse, guns, and Patton doesn't think they should get into that. 'What about-' CLAP 'one where Thomas' CLAP 'Has to' CLAP CLAP CLAP. 

The sound of Patton's claps rang in his ears everything was dimmed and loud at once and felt so bright, with one more clap he couldn't take it anymore and shouted, 'WHAT ABOUT AN EPISODE WHERE THOMAS EATS MY ENTIRE ASS? It'd start with Morality sucking my cock, then Logic would behead him out of jealously and finally Thomas would reveal that the only thing he eved wanted was to eat my ass. OM NOM NOM!" 

There was silence.

His eyes watered with unshed tears, why was everything he did wrong?

Patton smiled, "Well that sure was a creative idea Remus, but I don't think we can accept it. Sorry. Hey Roman?" Roman stopped saying his own ideas for a second and glanced at the pair, "Remus seems pretty upset, I think we're going to head out." 

Roman looked confused for a second then looks at Remus proper, his eyes widened, "How did I not, I was so lost in thought. Oh dear, Remus... I'll join you."

Patton shook his head, "Oh no, I can handle him fine. You just keep creating you handsome lovely prince you!"

Roman glances at his brother one last time, "Is that what you want Remus? " 

Remus couldn't hear him over the incessant pounding of his head. He just clung to the closestthing nearby, which in this case was Patton. Roman took that as a yes and sunk them both out into the commons. 

Remus burst into tears, he felt fragile, a single word could break him. Patton hummed softly rocking him back and fourth, in another time or place Remus would have bitten his fingers as they ran through his hair. "Shhh, it's okay." Patton whispered, "It'll be okay."

Remus managed to get his voice to work and croaked, "Why can't I," his breath hitched, "Why can't I create good things? I want, I want to help-" 

Patton hushed him gently once more, "I know kiddo, I know. But sometimes you can't, because you're just not good enough. I know it hurts, but you can't change what you are and you're the bad part of creativity."

Remus felt strange, every word that Patton said was laced with honey, created to soothe, but nothing he said felt soothing. It made his throat close up and more tears force their way out. Patton kissed the top of his head, "But that's okay, because I love you, even though you are bad. I want you to stay with us, I even have a room prepared when you're ready. "

Remus wished he could argue that Patton didn't love him. A few days ago that would have been easy, but now here he was, offering him a place on the light side, heck maybe he'd even have a voice if he worked harder to cool down his temper and keep his ideas in check, he'd even apologized for how he treated him in the past. "Okay." He said simply. Patton hugged him tightly and led him to his room.

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

Deceit sat at the dinner table with a plate of steak and salad for himself, a similar p!ate, but with a well done stake to his left (Virgil would always get panicked if his wasn't well done.) And a plate of fried worms to his right (Remus loved the crunch.) It was 7 o clock.

"Are we going to wait for them until midnight or can I eat?" Rage snapped.

Deceit waved his hand in a sign that he could eat and the Orange side did, with a ravenous appetite, but Deceit didn't loose hope that either of them would appear in the night, laughing about how late they are. So he waited.

and waited

and waited.

#R #Sanders Sides #Deceit Sandees #Remus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Virgil sandees #Sympathetic Remus #Sympathetic Deceit #Unsympathetic Patton #Fanficion #tss fanfiction

[thedogsled]

You seem to be having a not a great day today, so here's a light-hearted ask. I'm having a good day, curled up in pjs with cuddly pets watching Leverage with my sister. Leverage is one of my favorite shows, because it's smart and fun and has great characters that grow over the seasons. Besides Supernatural, what's a show you really enjoy and why?

Thank you so much for the ask! I’m sorry I didn’t reply to it sooner, I’ve come down with a head cold and this is really the first day in several I’ve been able to compose more than a tweet about how much it sucks (swallowing = a knife jammed right into my inner ear, it’s super fun). But I did want to answer your question so I’ve been musing on it since your ask came in.

If it was just “what’s your favorite show right now” it’d be an easy answer: The Boys. The Boys, back to front, front to back, upside down and inside out. The first season was fantastic, and it felt like it woke me up to being excited about TV again after my interest in The Walking Dead waned mid-season. Everything new has seemed very plastic recently, and even The Mandalorian, which is super cool, is kind of like the Cartoon Network dub of Dragonball Z, so Disneyfied in its bloodlessness that although I’m enjoying it it feels even more synthetic as a result. The Boys was the opposite of that, and also just whoever invented Karl Urban, period, just deserves a nobel prize for that masterpiece. He pronounces twat wrong (okay okay it’s a dialect thing) but you can’t have everything =D

So instead (and because it’s cheating that I can pimp The Boys and wax lyrical about loves of old) I interpret your question as sort of like “Which show is your comfort food?” Which show do I go back to when I’m feeling like TV needs to give me a cuddle. I had a good think about it, because there’s a few…

(aside: I shouldn’t have put that gif in before I started writing. ahem.)

There’s been a few over the years, for sure. As a thirteen year old I used to watch and rewatch Buffy episodes, mostly season 2 (baby Spike!). At eighteen, it was old VHS of Deep Space Nine, my favorite ep was “Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night” which I watched repeatedly and think about constantly even today. 

But the show I keep coming back to is due South.

This post is a long post, it also deals with discourse (because my relationship to entertainment is so often mired in it, so please don’t proceed if you’re rather avoid it) and this is where it begins:

Okay, so fun fact: I watched due South the first time it aired with my parents (I was about 9) and then when it was on TV again as a repeat, I recorded it on VHS by RUSHING home every single day from school with nothing else on my mind but sitting on the floor two feet from the telly to watch it. Quantum Leap was on right after, and I had an entire different set of VHS tapes to record that on, so had to quickly switch between them. I’d stop recording at every break so that I could get more episodes on a tape. It’s not unsurprising to me now that both shows vibed with me as a young person who hadn’t yet really accepted that she was queer; due South’s main character is coded as Other both to the Americans whom he lives with, and his fellow Canadians, while Quantum Leap explores a straight white man jumping into the lives of Others, and living through them some of the hardest moments in their lives. Even though both keep it exceedingly, textually hetero, one has two men riding off into the snowy sunset together (leaving behind a straight lover to do so) and the other features a love between two men that in the original framing of the finale would have seen God/fate reconnecting the two of them even though one was lost in time, and the partner’s wife begging him to go.)

Of course young me didn’t give a shit about that, or didn’t realize that’s what she cared about. Young me loved the buddy-cop partnership of both shows. Young me liked the half-wolf, and the episodes where they ride horses, and honestly just waiting with bated breath to find out where Sam would jump to this time. “Oh boy!” Retrospectively, these shows (especially QL) are a lot more oh boy in a yikes context now than they used to be, but it’s good that shows age into yikes territory because it means that society is steadily advancing. Particularly, pointing out that these shows both feature white straight guys like…welcome to the nineties.

I was introduced to queer coding in part by watching due South. The show is laden with it. With writers, actors, and ultimately an executive producer who was all three, it makes you wonder if they would have gone there if they could; certainly the ending reads that way. They couldn’t, of course, because it was the nineties (and it was CBS that revived it after enormous international fan demand). Still, there was just nothing else analogous to what we have now that was going there on TV at the time. If you were queer (or discovering your queerness) then watching the show meant everything, as it did to me. So I snuggle up on the couch often these days and go back to that, because it gave me such joy, and because I was left with the opportunity to decide for myself how deep the relationship was. There was no promise of anything, because the context at the time was of course you can’t go there, nobody can go there. Queerbaiting was a word that simply hadn’t been breathed. There was no intent, no companies behind the curtain pulling strings going “Yes, make it more gay, we want those queer dollars”, just invested people slipping what they could past the studio censors.

Like this:

Sigh. A less enlightened time. =P (Incidentally fun meta here but this was after a conversation where Ray suggested that communication in a relationship should be intuitive, like breathing.)

So I guess in part I escape back there because none of that representation was ever as loaded as it is today. It doesn’t require me to judge it, or weigh it against the harm it does - because the politics of the time meant I thought it was doing good (retrospectively, and only through the lens of someone who had nothing to lose). It seemed to scream out into an unyielding universe to force it to move. It did a fraction of that, because of course it did. It was the nineties. It stole indigenous narratives and romanticized colonialism just as much as it beat the drum of environmentalism and kicked at the doors of corporate greed and racism. Old shows are inherently problematic. Today’s shows are too. Being able to examine them doesn’t mean not loving them, but it lets you say “Okay, so what do I expect from the things I watch today? What do I expect from the things I watch in five years time?”

All that aside, the show is just damn good. It’s watchable and rewatchable. It struggles to age because it was already so out of pace with the age it was made in–despite its flaws in representation, it was better than other shows at the time that demonized, tokenized, or outright killed minorities to push white narratives on their own shows (Kendra being murdered on Buffy, for example). It’s standalone enough that you can go back and watch any episode you like because overarching story arcs were way less of a staple as they are today.  It’s witty, fast paced, full of action and moral dilemma, do gooding and the consequences of it. Although still severely unbalanced, and very, very white, it did still have indigenous actors playing indigenous characters, and minorities portrayed in stories about them. There’s a dog. There’s classic cars. And it’s all put to the soundtrack of Canadian bands and singers. 

tl;dr ahead for rambling about subtext and being a disaster queer, but please scroll past for more gifs.

Queer me needed this show, in a world where I’d been taught to look and see myself in straight white male protagonists, it felt like A Lot to see all this on screen. It wasn’t, but it was all I got when I was growing up. I envy the good fortune of kids who can see themselves on screen these days while they try and figure themselves out (and hopefully more so in the future) with far less of having to negotiate through the confusion of looking at it through confusing fractals of different lenses and instead just see someone who looks like them showing them that their POV is normal, heroic and wonderful. Those lenses fucked me up big time. Like I’m not even sure right now what flavor of queer I am. I cling to bi like a lifeline of sense in my life, but it is complicated because I overwhelmingly desire the company of women way way more. But also I was was taught to look through the lens of a white dude in order to see myself universally, taught to be both desirous of the female body and humiliated by it, ashamed by sex, taught men were awful, and taught that I was supposed to marry one anyway. I look at my sexuality/romanticism like it’s a meta puzzle that I haven’t figured out yet, wondering how to put it on paper, how to break apart the different influences I experienced as a youngling and as an adult to try and negotiate if I’m misreading my own impulses. How I was brought up, who I’ve known, the relationships I’ve experienced and seen in real life and on TV. I’m 34 and I’m still no more certain. Subtext is both my friend and my enemy. I hate it, and I owe everything to it.

So when I need a rest from giving a shit about any of that noise, I go back to my comfort food. I go right back to subtext, which gave me the tools I needed to desire romance that wasn’t heterosexual, that somehow was more intimate because it relied on longing stares and never stepping foot out of the closet, that was just someone liking another person without any expectation of sex just because they have opposing genitals, and their colleagues hassle them a lot. There’s nothing wrong with the sex, I write a lot of consommation of the feelings that I see bubbling under the surface. I have even grown to appreciate het romance when it’s done in a way that doesn’t reduce the woman to a love interest–I was thrilled when Simon Baker’s Patrick Jane got together with Teresa Lisbon in The Mentalist. Their relationship was filled with subtext too. Subtext isn’t a queer thing, it has a role in all well written romance. Hell, it has a role in terriblebad tropey misogynistic romance, too. And just you know basically all storytelling (and more). 

Queer romance existing only in the subtext, though? It’s heartbreaking explicitly because it feels like a story that isn’t finished, and that’s where subtext reliant shows can hand off the story to be finished by fandom itself. In due South, as I mentioned before, Ray and Fraser jump into a dogsled and ride off over the snowy horizon to “Find the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort sea”. It’s where I chose my meta name, as I’ve mentioned before, because that ending - that ending - handed us all the subtext so far and said “Here, take it, it’s yours now. Do with it what you like”–and we did. But that was twenty years ago. I loved that ending (I still think it was a very elegant solution) and it was expected and appropriate for a show that in itself is a “Faves Are Problematic” show, but that’s also why I get so passionate about discussing the subtext in Supernatural.

It’s younger than due South. While it may have begun back when Willow from Buffy had her first girlfriend, it is ending now, not at the turn of the century where a dogsled was still good enough to get the point across and none of us had Twitter. My own experiences, my lifelong queer confusion make it so I feel pretty damn bad for people trying to use Supernatural as a medium for their own self-exploration, using characters from SPN as their lenses. A show these days that makes bank on those tropes and doesn’t inform its audience (positively or negatively) is doing so irresponsibly because of the modern context in which the show presently (not historically) sits, and the increasing awareness of the issues surrounding it. Networks, then, are ultimately responsible for that, but they are in a way which is entirely different and far more directly culpable than they were 20 years ago, because people are out there making money out of those intentional subtextual devices. They chose to do it; took a deep breath and backed right up away from Gamble’s problematic queerbashing tropes, chewed it over, then hired gay writers and dived right back in with more grown up, progressive, and less shitty subtext–but still subtext. 

This show that ended 20 years ago was able to cross way more lines with subtext in one episode than Supernatural has done sometimes in an entire season. It did so despite and because of it’s international audience, on a conservative network that would late purchase Paramount, and Star Trek, and ended with a powerfully subtextual ending. Supernatural, of course, is under a far more powerful microscope from the bigots than those oblivious to subtext back in the 90s could have ever produced. due South, like SPN was just “wholesome family entertainment” to a conservative audience that was completely oblivious by all accounts, yet was laden heavily with queer innuendo. It was also blissfully short, and existed in a social media world which consisted of Yahoo groups and not much else. 

In modern context, Supernatural gets a fox in the henhouse treatment from that same audience, and acts accordingly (when it’s not using that same subtext to deliver earnest Fuck You’s to that audience). While I expect Supernatural to bravely - even considering this scrutiny - deliver a dogsled subtextual ending on a good day, there are bad days, too, because the queer subtext has been underlined so loudly that everyone can see it, because it’s “practically text”, because the bottom line is increasingly more concerned with satisfying those bigots (even while they mock them), and because queer fans are “too loud” about what they want. How dare they. /s The pushback caused by being loud about things you care about, the bigots actually seeing subtext in front of their noses, isn’t bad because now they know what we’ve been doing all along, and we won’t be able to get away with it any more; it means they’re becoming more aware of narratives other than their own. Yes, some people will push back, but “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression”, and they can shove it right up their asses.

All I ever ask of myself when I interrogate my present day viewing experience, is this: when I sat as a youngster watching due South thinking “This subtextual ending is enough for me”, did I truly believe it was okay to be watching a show about two white guys with a subtextual ending 20 years later? Was that the future I dreamed of and aspired to? Would I be disappointed? The answer is yes, I am disappointed. No matter the whys, the fundamental and societal reasons–I am disappointed. I still love the show probably more than I should, but I am disappointed in the society it sits in - which is increasingly capitulating to far more powerful global financial powers than a couple of red state homophobes - and I’m disappointed in the way we’re treating each other for even caring, and I’m disappointed in myself, too, for being naive and imagining we would be much further down this road now than we are. But we are a capitalistic society, and being both the commodity and the customer should be a surprise to literally nobody at this point. It doesn’t mean you have to like it.

And if you don’t feel that way, that’s okay. We all come from different places. We have different perspectives. We need and want different things, for different reasons, and find joy in different things for different reasons. Variety of opinion is as much a wonderful thing as it is completely terrifying.

I’ve wandered somewhat off topic, so I’m going to go back to the show I love, my chocolate pudding and custard comfort food TV show, and the long stares and the beautiful uncomplicated subtext.

And sign off with half a dozen gifs.

Eye fucking:

Conversations in closets and bathrooms:

Going down with the ship

Intuitively understanding each other without a word spoken

His hobbies humiliate me in public

“Do you find me attractive?”

Sulking in the corridor while you reunite with your ex

This whole ep with original Ray:

And his wolf approving of both

Not pictured “I love you” “And I you”, “Get out of the closet”, actual hand holding when it’s unnecessary, formally handcuffing your buddy, getting stuck in an ice crevasse and a mini submarine together–and so so much more. I invite you to watch the show if you can find it (I have it on a really nice set of DVDs, but there’s some dodgy ones out there that look like they recorded the DVD straight off a VHS, so do check reviews) or else try and find it online. There was a Canada promoting YouTube channel which published both due South and shows like Slings and Arrows, which I recommend as well (It’s not actually bury your gays if the ghost of your gay best friend haunts you, right?) so you should be able to poke around and find a legit copy somewhere. I’ve bigged it up and talked it down, and wandered a long way off topic (that describes my relationship with every show, but especially when I recommend them) but I hope somewhere along the line I also answered the question. The way I hear it Leverage is a similar sort of comfort food, though I haven’t seen it. Sounds like I should put it on my To Watch list.

#due south #dogsled replies #queerbaiting #subtext #destiel #about me

[winterbites]

(Major JoJo's Bizarre Adventure anime spoiler warning) My review of...

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Battle Tendency is my absolute favorite season of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. 16 episodes long, this is where Akari really began to show his viewers just how crazy his work could get and set the bar for the rest of the series.

Just like with Phantom Blood, Battle Tendency is pretty short so it has a narrator to help time pass while not leaving the viewer in the dark, it also doesn't have much on-screen character growth but it certainly has the same fantastic animation. Personally, I don't think there are any bad qualities in this season but I'll try to list the pros and cons equally and neutrally (I really do love this season).

To start, the soundtrack of this season had me wanking every single episode because it's just that good. I even looked up the soundtrack and saved a few songs (my favorite from it is Awaken). I love the inspired sounds and music from different countries integrated with the flashy pop (your Prince inspiration is showing again, Akari).

In terms of visuals, Phantom Blood's intro will always be my number one with or without sound effects; however, Battle Tendency's intro is definitely my 3rd favorite and jumps to my 2nd favorite when the sound effects are added. I adore the mix of the 3D-looking 2D art style, regular 2D art style, and the sketched elements of the Pillar Men's attacks; not to mention the whole intro is made even spicier with the large array of color palletes used.

As for the outro, I like it just as much as Phantom Blood's. The smooth transition from one season's outro to the next adds flavor and really shows the relationship between the two even though they don't have much to do with each other story-wise.

Next are the characters; I like them much better than many characters from a lot of the other seasons. In Battle Tendency, the characters were each given their own unique personality, morals, goals and very different physical designs. You had a German soldier who literally blew himself up no less than 3 times in the name of his country and risked his life many more times, eventually dying, for the same reason. You had Joseph who wasn't the righteous gentleman the way Jonathan was but instead is comedic and brave with strong familial values. You had strong female characters, each with their own unique designs and characteristics that reflected their age. You had all this and so much more, like an Italian soldier that you fall in love with as soon as he hits the screen only to have him die literally 10 minutes later within the same episode.

Now, remember when I said that this season is really where JoJo's Bizarre Adventure earned the bizarre in its title? I'll tell you why that is, and it's because of its antagonists: the Pillar Men. Starting off, their goddamn clothes. Odd clothing and fashion choices is a staple in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, but the Pillar Men take it to a new extreme with their loinclothes. That's literally it, that's all they wear. However, it's the way their bodies were designed and the way they constantly flash incredibly flamboyant poses that makes it so fucking weird (and yet nobody wants to mention them when comparing fashion choices across the anime). The Pillar Men had their own personalities, morals and codes of honor just like the rest of the cast as well as an enveloping, yet brief, shared backstory. By the way, did I mention their theme, Awaken, is fucking great? Because it is. Honestly, I think the Pillar Men are the best part of Battle Tendency and I highly enjoyed them and their character designs (great job, Akari!)

However, there were three specific things I didn't like in Battle Tendency. First was that Akari threw Straizo under the bus to further the plot. In my post about Phantom Blood, I said that there wasn't a lot of character development that could be done in 9 episodes and I stand by that. However, I don't believe that Straizo, a former friend in battle and life of Jonathan's, would give in to the corruption of vampirism and eternal life to the point of trying to murder his friend's grandson, especially since Straizo is obviously an important figure and friend within Joseph's life as well.

Second is that the viewers never got to see the extent of Lisa Lisa's powers. There was the big battle between Kars and Lisa Lisa that was being hyped to extraordinary extremes and then it kind of fell flat when Kars decided to be a realistic little bitch about the whole situation. I congratulate and even thank Akari for breaking off from the norm of villains going though unnecessary lengths to get what they want (in Kars' case, a full blown battle with a woman he knows is incredibly powerful and could very possibly kick his ass) and I know that it's the job of the main protagonist to take down the main antagonist, but I can't help but feel cheated because, through the show, we were never really shown just what Lisa Lisa can do.

Lastly is Caesar's death; it was the most unnecessary death in the whole series. I know he was high on emotion when faced with the choice of going after the Pillar Men, but he was always shown to be obedient to Lisa Lisa. So, to have him deliberately disobey Lisa Lisa's, and basically the whole party's, decision to NOT go after the Pillar Men, it didn't make much sense to me. To Akari's credit, the death was agonizingly heartbreaking and I cried a river during the sequence, so good job to him for making such a touching scene and David Production and the voice actors for really bringing it to life.

Finally, adding toward the pros of this season is the comedy: Battle Tendency is hilarious. I won't say much in this category since the creative humor needs to be experienced first-hand, but I will say that it's absolutely wonderful and had me crying tears of laughter the whole way through.

#jojo's bizzare adventure #jojo's anime #jojo's spoilers #jojo part two #jojo part 2 #caesar zeppeli #joseph joestar #lisa lisa #kars jojo #wamuu #pillar men #erina pendleton #battle tendency #jojo battle tendency #david production #hirohiko araki #esidisi #straizo #santana #rudol von stroheim #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo no kimyou na bouken

[artificialqueens]

Until the Flavor's Gone (16/?) (Biadore) - Kitschy Pixel

A/N: So. It’s been awhile, hey there, hi there, and hello. Now, here’s the deal of what is going down. This is not the original chapter 16 that I planned to give you guys and this chapter was not the chapter that I’ve been laboriously toiling away at for… an ungoldly number of months.

What happened was, the original chapter 16 was starting to climb into the 20 page mark. So for the sake of just about everyone, I had to split it up, and for the sake of giving you guys an update – I’m posting it now and I think I can promise you guys that you won’t be waiting another seven months for chapter 17. I hope you all can forgive me. Feel free to wander to my sideblog @kitschypixel and let me hear about it.

In this chapter, Danny deals with where they are now, Roy texts the wrong person, and Shane becomes the only audience to the mess that’s on the horizon – for now.

Warnings for language, sexually suggestive text messages, excessive alcoholism, and everyone’s a tease. Including me.

Chapter 16

In the months following Danny’s return from New York, he and Roy barely spoke. Danny blamed a busy schedule, but there was an inexplicable bitterness that still clung onto his chest that he didn’t want to acknowledge. They’d left on good terms, he reasoned, so it shouldn’t be there.

“It’s that one rejection,” Shane remarked off hand as Danny reclined on his couch and tried to describe said feeling to someone who wasn’t himself, “Not to say that you’re the type to be mad at someone for saying ‘no’ to sex, it’s just the principle of the thing. You’re used to him giving you what you want…”

“Thanks a lot, Jiminy,” Danny drawled out, scowling a little at the thought, “So why do I still care? I mean… we talked about the whole thing. It should be good now.”

“First of all, that wasn’t a moral judgement, so that doesn’t make me your conscience. But, if we’re going to bring it up, I am far more qualified to be one than a cricket – who was horrible at his job to begin with, I might add! – and, my dear Danny, you don’t actually need me to explain to you why you still care, because you already know. You just don’t want to admit just how much you still crave his approval because that’s scary.”

“And you say you’d a better conscience than Jiminy…”

“I would be! Have you even watched that movie? Jiminy was promoted to conscience simply by being at the right place and the right time. Also? I’m right. You just need to listen to me better.”

“I don’t have anything to prove to him.”

“And you are absolutely right, now you just got to believe that.”

Danny started singing When You Wish Upon a Star in response, mumbling over the words that he didn’t know, laughing at Shane’s glare in his direction all the while. The song dissolved into a mess of giggles and Danny curled up on his side, staring off into space for a minute before he pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“You think he’s dating that guy who keeps popping up in his feed?”

“Oh, totally. They are definitely fucking…” Shane tilted his head tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “You okay with that?”

“Honestly?” Danny hummed and pressed his fingers to his lip, a ghost of a smile dancing there before he turned back to Shane. “I really am. I mean… good for him, you know?” He waited a moment to see if that bitterness moved from his chest to bleed into what he was saying. There was a slight sense of relief when it didn’t. “Hey… if he can find someone, there’s hope for me, right?”

“There’s hope for us all!” Shane held his arms out wide in a dramatic gesture before grinning and settling back into his seat with a wistful sigh, crinkling his nose a little at nothing in particular. “Is it bad taste to start a betting pool on how long this is going to last?”

“Yup. How much do you have in it?”

“Ten.”

“Twenty.”

“High roller.”

“Let Courtney make out with me on camera in a hot tub and you could be too.”

Shane snorted before he reached over to search for his drink. “Is that your master plan? Peddle thinly veiled soft core lesbian porn as a music video for popularity?”

Danny grinned a bit, “Why not? It worked for Britney and Madonna,” he quipped before he crawled over to the side of the couch that was closer to where Shane was sitting, eyes wide and pout ready. “And it’ll only work if you say ye~es…” He cocked his head to the side and offered a wide grin, “ Come on, You know you want to be a skank with me.”

Shane tapped his chin with a thoughtful expression and his eyes twinkled with mischief before he hummed, “Is it going to be tasteful?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I’m in!”

–––––––––––––––––––––

The first text Danny got from Roy was about a week after Jump the Gun made its debut on Youtube, and he was about 90% sure that it wasn’t meant for him.

I’m fucking you so hard when I get there, you asshole.

Maybe 98%. Either way, he was not about to let the opportunity to give Roy shit for something pass, so he carefully considered his response before finally typing out,

Wow. Promise? Let me buy a ticket real quick and I’ll meet you.

There was a predictably long pause and Danny continued to check his phone periodically for the inevitable response. He was getting caught up in a vortex of Youtube hell when his phone finally buzzed beside him. He smirked at the reply.

That wasn’t for you.

Simplistic, definitive, and without further explanation – classic and in no way acceptable. He knew Roy knew it too, because there was a long sigh when Roy answered the follow-up phone call.

“You could have just texted me.”

“And miss hearing your sex voice? No chance in hell,” Danny grinned at the cracks in Roy’s softer than normal words, “Is he still there?”

“No. He just left.”

“Damn. No cuddle clause in your dating arrangements either?”

“Fuck off, we both have work in the morning,” the finality in his voice meant that Danny would have to try a lot harder than usual to pry anything further from him on that particular subject, so he opted not to try tonight. Instead, he let Roy take the lead. “So what’d you need?”

“Nothing, really,” Danny admitted, “Just needed to give you shit. Why does he get dirty text messages and not me?”

“We’re dating.”

“Rude. Does he get all your best dick pics too?” Danny laughed at the repeated ‘fuck off’ before he set his laptop aside to pick at the pilling on his sheets like some nervous school girl. He chewed on his lip before he finally spoke up again, “You know… I kind of missed hearing from you,” he managed. That bitter feeling, the one he’d been toting since he got back home, began to squirm a little, making his heart jump a few times. There was a pause and Danny waited anxiously for some kind of response to fill in the silent spaces. There was an uplifting hitch in the sigh that followed – a kind of half formed chuckle let out in a breath.

“Yeah,” he croaked before clearing his throat, “Shut up,” he remarked, cutting off Danny’s snickering, “Things kind of got… serious. Sorry.”

Danny bit back the snarky ‘no shit’ and kept the flippant ‘I figured’ from rolling off his tongue. Instead, he replied with a blissful, “Don’t be. You actually look happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? I’m…” A small smile started to curl as Danny pressed his lips together. He could feel his cheeks burn, which was a bit absurd, but no one was around to see it so he didn’t really care. “Can I get back to you on that?” His voice had pitched higher towards the end and he felt a bit giddy.

“Mmmhm… yeah, sure. Just enjoy yourself, kid.”

“Oh gross, don’t do that. It makes you sound old.”

The serenity broke with a cackle and Danny could hear the smile through the phone, “Fucking bitch.”

They chatted lightly before the conversation slowly petered out and left them with nothing left than to say ‘goodbye’. When they hung up, Danny shifted a few time, pressing his fingers just below his sternum to settle the butterflies that began to rustle around in his gut as he stared at his phone and opened up a freshly saved contact from the other night.

–––––––––––––––––––––

It was easy to talk to Roy when everything was fine. They didn’t talk everyday (they didn’t have time) but when they did it was nice. It was normal.

When things became decidedly less fine and then spiraled down into absolutely miserable for Danny, talking to Roy wasn’t easy anymore. In fact, Danny found it downright agonizing. That leftover bit of bitterness that held onto his chest for months – the one that didn’t grow or begin to bite, just sat there benign but incredibly present – felt like it had lumped and hardened. He’d stopped following him on social media. Just for now. So it wouldn’t get worse and turn to jealousy as he saw Roy still be happy.

Hey, are you okay?

Danny hadn’t replied for fear of lying – or worse, telling the absolute truth and having Roy try desperately to turn it into a joke to make him smile. Instead, he clung to Shane in some kind of blind desperation to stay emotionally afloat. So far, it was allowed and led to Danny, curled up pathetically on Shane’s couch, consistently losing track of the drink that he never put down to begin with.

But Shane was beginning to start to grow a little weary from playing babysitter as he watched his friend stumble from the casual drinking, into the deeper the pits of alcoholism and whatever else Danny was finding comfort in these days. Don’t judge, he reminded himself, you’re not his moral compass. This had become his mantra whenever they spent time together.

He nudged Danny with his foot to see if he’d passed out yet. There was a drowsy ‘mmmm?’ in response.

“You know, he’s been asking me about you. He almost seems worried. It’s… weird.”

“Who?” Danny muttered as he tried to blink himself into some kind of semblance of consciousness.

“Your long distance husband.”

“Ugh…” He would have rolled his eyes if the thought of it hadn’t made him feel dizzy. “Shut up… we never acted married.”

“By whose definition?” Shane challenged. It wasn’t fair. Danny was at least six drinks ahead of Shane, which made it harder for him to argue. He settled on a weak ‘we didn’t’ as he tried to throw a decorative pillow at Shane and missed. Shane stared at the offending pillow for a minute before picking it up and holding it to his chest, looking thoughtful as he replied, “Well I would say ‘dad’… but given your history, that’s a bit gross.”

Danny erupted in what was probably his first giggle fit of the evening as he scrunched up his face and exclaimed a long, drawn out ‘ewwww’ and Shane replied in kind with a grimace, “Though I suppose making the comparison of spouse and parent similar is concerning within itself….”

“Oh my god, shut up…” Danny groaned as Shane quipped something about if Roy were there, he’d make a joke about it being kinky. He mimed gagging before waving his arms to try to get Shane to cease talking. “Ugh! No! All of that! No to all fucking that!” Danny flopped back and pressed his palms into his eyes, thinking the conversation was over before it was finally placed back on the tracks it’d derailed from when Shane quietly asked,

“So what do I tell him?”

“Huh?” Danny squinted a little as he tried to remember what they were talking about before he sighed heavily and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, “Oh… right… fuck.” He wiped his hand across his eyes before waving the whole thing off. “I’m fine.”

With a quiet, ‘right, okay’, Shane let the subject drop. His hands fidgeted for a moment before he finally picked up his phone, the wheels turning in his head a fraction slower, but still enough for him to start a plan.

I think I’m going to need your help soon.

He hit send and waited, tapping short nails on the back of his phone as he watched Danny just curl up on himself, trying to cocoon into his jacket without much luck. The minutes rolled by before finally, there was a reply.

What’s going on?

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #courtney act #biadore #au #alternate meeting au #mild angst #crude language #sexually suggestive language #alcohol use #mentions of potential drug abuse #kitschy pixel #flavor #utfg #submission #queen au

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 7

Wordcount: 2,258

The reader is referred to as she/her

Looking at him was certainly not a favor for sensitive eyes. His hair was a mop of styled gold, unnaturally bright for his olive-hued skin tone. Hot pink shades sat atop of his hair and little glimmering rhinestones engraved on the sides were shining at you like they were literally glowing. His crisp white shirt was cleanly pressed with not a speck of dust or a single wrinkle. Not only was it too blinding for the human eye, but it would also wash you with the feeling of being under-dressed. Even in the darkest hours, he still managed to look that good. It was just the moral he lived up to - instead of 'dress to impress', he altered it to fit his persona with 'dress to depress'.

You ran over to the door and swung it open, only to be engulfed in a tight embrace which knocked the air out of your lungs upon contact. Bringing your arms around him to squeeze him back, you were consumed in the sweet scent of perfume. "Oh my god, bitch. I missed you so much! Why didn't you call me?" He exasperated, pulling away to be met with your relieved smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry Flavio! I was busy with work and other... Circumstances." You replied, darting your eyes all around the place as you finished your sentence. Whispering under your breath, it came out as an anxious wheeze. "... What are you doing here...?" Fumbling with your fingers, he immediately noted the sweat that was amassing around your forehead, as well as the apprehensive build-up of testosterone sourcing from the kitchen to form pulsating waves of it to consume the room. He left you there without another word, and taking long strides, he stopped abruptly by the kitchen with a face contorted with disgust. His bright velvety red irises flickered down at the corpse-like body lying on the floor. "What happened to him?" He pointed with his long index.

A huff escaped Allen's lips and he folded his arms together, letting his narrowed gaze run off to the side. You rubbed your arms and kept your head down. Flavio coughed and rolled his eyes at you all. He pulled out a pink vial out of nowhere, pressing down on it a few times to let a baby pink mist spray out and disappear into the air particularly around Alfred. "Gross." He murmured. Judging from the tense atmosphere that just fell around you all, it was clear that Alfred was attacked by either one of you. Clearly, it would not have been you, so all his bets were laid out for the redhead brooding in the corner. He threw his hands up in the air. "Look, I don't even wanna know."

You shrugged and felt a sheepish smile pull on your lips. "I'm sorry that you had to see this."

Flavio shook his head. "It's totally fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm kinda used to it. I just don't wanna get near him with these clothes on."

A few dry chuckles fell from your lips. "Oh, okay."

"Mhmm." He hummed, extending the 'hm' longer than needed. Strutting over to you and resting his arm on your shoulder, his striking red eyes caught yours in a softened gaze."Look, baby. I don't wanna intrude on you for too long, but I'm gonna have to steal a few minutes of your time."

You nodded slowly with your brows knitting together in confusion. "Sure...?"

Flavio slapped you on the shoulder and ushered you into the closest separate room, which happened to be Allen's. That left him standing there in silence, lingering his eyes over his own door that just clicked shut on him with them narrowed slightly. A few coughs and splutters rung in his ears, forcing him to let his head fall down to Alfred on the floor, getting comfortable as he slowly regained his consciousness. His lungs and throat gurgling with the metallic flavor of iron, so he leaned forward onto his knees to let the foreign substance flow out of his mouth into a little crimson puddle to the floor. "... Eugh... That was gross." He mumbled, coughing his lungs out immediately after.

Allen felt his eye twitch in annoyance. "You're cleaning that up."

Alfred collapsed on his back and groaned. Allen watched with crossed arms, the stone-cold poker face engraved on his features not faltering the least.

"Really?! But you just nearly fucking killed me!" The blonde screamed with a vein popping around his neck. Uneven breaths were sucked in sharply as gunmetal blue eyes were set ablaze with white-hot fury. Only then was he able orientate himself, the memories of fists colliding with his face entering his mind in sharp explosions of pain. As he struggled to get back up on his feet, the sight of his cousin not moving a muscle to even help irked at him.

"Whatever." He huffed. "Don't expect me to mop it all up, you spewed your shit on the ground anyway."

Alfred shook his head slowly. "... Unbelievable."

Flavio pushed you into Allen's room and he shut the door, spinning over to you with vivid fear swimming in his orbs. "Oh my god, are you okay?! You weren't hurt by him were you?" He whisper-shouted, attaching a firm grip on your shoulders and shaking you. "No--" He continued rocking you back and forth so violently that you felt a wave of dizziness consume your brain. "Christ, stop shaking me for Pete's sake! I'll puke all over your clothes!"

All activity in his arms ceased, but his hammering heart didn't slow. "We don't want that do we?" He breathed.

A silence ensued and you just shrugged.

"No..." You whispered.

His lips stretched into a wide smile for the briefest second before it faded away into a frown. "Okay, I have something super-duper important to tell you. Absolutely critical!" He hissed at you. "The break-in that happened last night at your house, it was done by my brother... And his squad."

Allen scoffed. "That's what you get for kissing (F/N)."

"What the hell? You're such a sore loser." Alfred hardened his stare at his cousin. Allen walked off to the pile of bags sitting in a mound and heaved them one by one over his shoulder like sacks of potatoes. "Oh yeah? This ain't a game anymore. And plus, it looked like you stole that kiss judging from how shocked she looked." He shot back. "Can't you at least wait a fucking week or something before you get your hands on her? She's really stressed right now about this whole ordeal, and you're not helping."

Alfred darted his eyes off to the side and sat on one of the stools. "You're just jealous I got to kiss her." He mumbled under his breath out of Allen's earshot. "What are those bag's you're carrying anyway?"

"... They're full of her stuff. I can't keep letting her wear my boxers you know." He felt himself smirk at bringing that up, and yes, he did offer you his underwear. It was another way to press at Alfred's buttons by pulling out another one of his 'best friend' cards. Allen honestly didn't mind letting you use his stuff at all, he loved it because you were relying on him... It filled him to the brim with overwhelming joy. "Not that I mind."

"Oh my god." Alfred grumbled, feeling his skin prickle and burn at the waves of triumph radiate off that smirk.

"That's right, cuz'. I've been playing this game for far too long." He winked.

"I thought you said this wasn't a game anymore-"

"It's an expression, you dumbfuck."

You were glazed with a layer of cold sweat as you were thrown into a pit of betrayal. "Your brother?" You uttered. "But why?"

Luciano, his name was. A man of power you had no idea of who worked in his own mysterious ways- you considered him just as ambiguous as your best friend, if not more. Only a few times did you run into this sharp-tongued Italian, and he would always leave without a word but with a mischievous but patronizing glance. It would always leave you nothing but intimidated and your curiosity craving for more. Recently, however, in the last few months, he'd linger his half-lidded magenta orbs over you similar to that way a predator would stalk its prey. It sent you so many mixed signals, concoctions of vengeance, fury and even lustful intensity.

Despite not knowing anything about him but his name, you almost automatically associated him as relatively friendly as he was related to Flavio. How did you already rub him in the wrong way?

"I'm so sorry that you're confused and all, but there's a good reason he did it," Flavio replied in a softer tone, "Luciano isn't holding anything against you personally, but he's doing it because..." If he was in his car, he would have just wound up in an endless road of obstacles and stumps, eventually slowing to a halt. He was undergoing intense contemplation on whether to tell you the true reason because it was more than certain to him that it'd ruin something, someone, special to you. "... Um..."

"Well, what is it!?" You hissed with burning anticipation.

A sheepish smile adorned his lips as he twiddled with his fingers. "Well, uh, um..." Beads of sweat began trickling from his forehead and a bright red blush glowed strongly off of his cheeks. You leaned into him and scrunched up your shirt to create wrinkles. The decision finally struck him to not tell you and he let out a high squeal. The cloth of your shirt was damp from your clammy hands by then, and you were slammed in the face with disappointment when he took off in a frantic sprint. "Ican'ttellyouit'sconfidentialbye!"

"Hey! What the- Get your ass back here!" You screamed after him, charging at him as he bolted out the room. The door slammed in your face, paralyzing you from the explosion of noise for a second before you ripped it open. In this second-long duration, Flavio was granted the opportunity to finish his duties for today. His blonde curl bounced in rhythm to his movements as he ran up to Allen and pulled him down to his level.

Cupping his mouth as he leaned into his ear, he whispered something fiercely into his ear. Alfred watched from the kitchen counter with a brow raised. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't able to catch what the man with shades was saying behind his hand. Whatever it was, it was not good news. Allen stood back up straightly at a tantalizingly slow pace, his eyes widening to dinner plates with absolute terror. His thundering heartbeat was pounding so violently in his head that it sent trembles to shake at the matte black shades sitting in his ruffled maroon tresses.

"Oh, shit." He breathed, clenching his fists into balls that were so tight his knuckles turned white. He flicked his head to Flavio and stared at him with pleading orbs. "Luciano's after her because of-"

Like you were the devil, you came bursting into the vast living space everybody else was currently situated in. That immediately zipped Allen's lips. Said boy whisper-shouted to the blonde next to him again. "Don't. Fucking. Tell her." He hissed lowly.

Flavio nodded quickly. "Right. Right. I won't." With that, he turned on the spot and made a beeline to the door and out of this conflicted hell hole; out of Allen's reach before he would get strangled.

"What the hell was that?" You exclaimed, the fly screen swinging back into place.

"Nothing, babydoll." Allen coughed.

Alfred hummed and popped a cookie in his mouth, munching loudly. "It wasn't nothing."

Allen shot him a dangerous glare before facing you again. "Yeah, um. He just told me that Luciano was the one who broke into your home." Sharp and direct, but lacking immense details.

"Did he tell you why though?" You asked.

He shook his head with a smile. "No."

Strange. Allen's never smiled like that before. His lips were twitching and his eyes were closed. "Oh, and you know the bags I just brought in that have your stuff?"

"Yeah. They have my things right?" You replied with a soft smile. "Thanks a lot, by the way."

Alfred continued to fish his hands around the plastic container of Chips Ahoy. Popping in one after the another into his mouth to distract himself from the excruciating blue and purple markings scattered all over his face, he was no way in hell prepared for the words that were about to be uttered by his cousin.

"Yeah, no prob. But what I'm trying to say is..." He strolled over to the marble kitchen counter and slammed his hands down on it. That sent a jolt to rocket through the blonde's body, and he clutched his cookies closely. Propping his head up with his elbows to face you, he continued. "Don't bother unpacking them."

You craned your head to the side. "... Why?"

Something that could be identified as a clashing combination of reluctance and mischief glinted in his blood red irises as he flickered them to Alfred, whose cheeks were puffed up like a chipmunk. "That's because we'll be going someplace for a while." He replied, slowing Alfred's chewing. In that moment of time, the two cousins' minds synced. Alfred tilted his head away from him with a contorted expression that literally screamed the one thing on Allen's mind. "We're gonna go crash Alfred's."

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #aph #aphamerica #america x reader #readerinsert #2ptalia #2ptalia x reader #2p!talia #2pamerica #2p!america #2p!america x reader #fanfiction #dark #crime #series

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 12

read on ao3

Magnus’s Friday goes as usual: he wakes up at an ungodly hour but his scowl soon transforms into a smile as he looks through his phone’s notifications. There’s a text message from Alec timestamped just before midnight.

I had a really good time tonight, Magnus. I can’t wait for lunch next week.

Magnus relaxes against his mountain of pillows, using the hand not holding his phone to rub the sleep from his eyes.

He takes a few minutes to respond, finally typing I had a lovely time too, darling. Wednesday can’t get here fast enough.

Unfortunately, he has a roomful of no doubt eager students waiting on him, so Magnus climbs out of bed and goes through his morning routine. After checking today’s weather, he dashes to his closet and pulls his Alexander McQueen raincoat from its hanger.

He leaves the house with ten minutes to spare and decides that’s enough time to swing by Starbucks. Thankfully, the line isn’t too horrendously long and it only takes a few minutes to order and grab his coffee. Magnus is just taking a sip of his venti iced americano when the passing newspaper stand stops him in his tracks.

He comes to a halt and inches closer, looking furtively in both directions. Thankfully, everyone else out this early has places to be and no one pays him any mind as he reaches out and picks up the magazine whose cover had caught his attention.

It’s a tabloid, one of the sleazy ones who make their money using morally questionable methods with photographers willing to do anything to hit pay-dirt. In bold letters the headline screams America’s Favorite Superstar Out on the Town with Mystery Man.

Magnus fold the magazine in half and hurriedly pays for it, walking just a little faster to campus, especially as rain starts peppering down. He’s very aware of his surroundings but thankfully doesn’t notice any paps in the bushes or anyone looking at him with more than casual interest.

He makes it to his office twenty minutes before his class is due to start and tosses his briefcase on the chair by the door before placing his coffee and magazine on his desk. He doesn’t even take the time to pull off his coat before he’s unfolding the paper and taking in the cover in more detail than he’d been able to on the street.

Underneath the huge headline is a picture of him and Alec from the previous night. It’s blurry as fuck, grainy to the point of being almost unrecognizable. It helps that this particular picture was taken just a little too far from a streetlamp, the darkness helping to disguise him. He’s walking away, head turned towards the ice cream shop and Alec is standing in the middle of the sidewalk watching him leave. Alec is far clearer, standing just under the light. Magnus can’t help but smile a little as he sees that Alec had lingered, just a minute, watching him walk away.

The smile drops from his face in the next minute as he thinks through the ramifications of this photo. Magnus isn’t an idiot. He knows that being a celebrity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and the paparazzi are one of the biggest disadvantages to fame. He’s been a fan of Alec’s long enough to realize that Alec plays his celebrity up quite well- he knows how to give an interesting soundbite and keep everyone wanting more. However, he also guards his privacy intently and needs time to be mundane-- last night was evidence of that. For God’s sake, the man had gone to one of the busiest libraries in the country and had done a remarkable job of fading into the background. He’s not a novice at this shit.

But Magnus is. Magnus has never had to worry that a date or the day-to-day minutiae of his life would fall under a microscope that the whole world loved to peer through.

It’s a little unsettling.

Magnus doesn’t hide but he also likes his personal life to be kept just that. Personal. There are one or two skeletons rattling around in his closet and he doesn’t want anyone to find them.

He’s spent quite a lot of energy laying them to rest, thank you very much.

Magnus simply can’t be flippant about this. He likes Alec and he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he had a good time.

The question is, how much is he willing to deal with for the sake of possibility? He’s barely friends with Alec-- is he willing to put himself out there, deal with the pressure and scrutiny that an association with America’s musical darling would bring?

It’s a lot to potentially handle.

If he's being honest with himself though, Magnus had already made up his mind when he'd first given his number to Alec at Uptown Java. It's just that this is a visceral reminder than he and Alec and whatever this thing is between them doesn't exist in a vacuum. It's a warning that things can-- and most likely will one day-- get very messy.

Magnus glances briefly at the clock and sees that he only has ten minutes before he needs to leave for class.

He spends that time reading the two page article, noting in relief that the press really doesn’t have anything on him except a blurry photograph of his back. Everything is supposition and innuendo. He’s just mentioned as Lightwood's flavor du jour-- Magnus scoffs. As if he’s anyone’s boytoy.

Grabbing his coffee, he’s just about to leave his office, leaving the trashy tabloid on his desk, when his phone rings. As he looks down at the display, he’s both surprised and not when Alexander pops up on the screen.

Lightwood must be a pro at damage control by now.

He debates on just not answering-- he has class in six minutes and his career always comes first-- but something tugs at him and before he knows it, he’s swiping right and accepting the call.

“Alexander,” he says warmly.

“Magnus, hey. How are you this morning?”

Magnus raises a brow but can’t help but smile. Alec is trying to be blithe and breezy but he can detect the tense undertone in his voice. This definitely isn’t a social call.

“Oh, I’m fine darling. I’m actually just leaving my office now to head towards class. Can’t keep those eager minds waiting. On today’s syllabus, we’re discussing Napoleon. There’s so much written about him but I prefer a little mystery in a man, don’t you?” Magnus can’t resist teasing Alec, just a little. It’s a serious topic, but if he can laugh about it to anyone, it should be the person who got him into this mess.

He hears Alec’s sharp intake of breath, can only imagine his wince.

“So you’ve seen that magazine article this morning?”

Magnus hums, holding his phone between cheek and shoulder as he opens the building’s door and starts walking up the stairs to the second floor.

“Yes, Alexander, I did see a little article about your latest conquest. It was rather vague, though.”

Alec blows out a breath. “I am so sorry, Magnus. I know that we’ve just become friends and that this is a lot to put on your shoulders for someone you barely know. So far, they only have your silhouette. If you wanted to put a stop to things, if this isn’t okay with you, I completely understand--”

“Alec.”

Alec’s voice comes to a halt and the silence on the line is a little jarring. Magnus has a split second to reconsider, but he’s already made up his mind. Really, it wasn't even a question. Magnus stands just outside of the door to his class and sees that most of his students are already in their seats. He nods to someone as they duck into the room, taking the last empty chair.

He turns away from his students and instead looks at the blank wall in front of him while he answers.

“While I appreciate your consideration,” he starts, “I’ll have to stop you there. I’ll admit that those very thoughts were rolling around this morning as I read that article. I don’t like it, Alec. I’ll be honest about that. And, it’s true that we’ve really just started this friendship of ours. But I like you and I really want to see where this leads.

“I want to stay friends. We’ll just need to be a little more discreet, darling, because while I like being with you I also like my anonymity. I don’t need paps harassing me at work or those I love. I’ll be a little more honest with you and admit that there are things I’ve done, things in my past, that I don’t need coming to light.”

He can hear Alec on the other end like he’s about to interrupt.

“But,” he says. “I’m willing to continue things with the understanding that we don’t advertise to the world. We can still go out to lunch and whatever else strikes our fancy, but let’s use common sense, okay?”

Alec sighs and Magnus smiles a little, also relieved.

“I’m really happy that you said that, Magnus. I know that not everyone is willing to put up with the media, and I appreciate that you’re not cutting me out. This is new, but I really like talking with you and hanging out. I am more than fine with using a little more discretion in the future.”

Magnus is just opening his mouth to respond, but Alec isn’t quite finished.

“About what you said-- about your past. I want you to know, obviously, that you don’t have to tell me anything and I’ll do my damnedest to keep your name out of the press until you’re ready. There’s no pressure here, Magnus.”

Magnus swallows hard. Nothing that Alec said was revolutionary but it’s been a long time since someone sought to reassure him. It’s nice to know that Alec respects his decision and is just as keen to continue their acquaintance.

“Thank you, darling. Don’t worry, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Alec laughs and Magnus echoes it, feeling warmth flood his chest.

“So we’re good,” Alec asks tentatively.

“We’re good,” Magnus confirms.

Alec huffs out a breath. “Thank Christ,” he says fervently. “I was worried that you’d see that headline and those photos this morning and run as far away from me as you could get.” He laughs, bitterly. “It wouldn’t be the first time, after all.”

Magnus leans against the wall as he replies. “I’ll admit that I thought about it. I’m risking a lot, after all, if anyone finds out anymore details. But you know Alexander, I think you might just be worth the risk.”

“Thanks, Magnus. I only hope that you don’t regret those words.”

Magnus grins. “If you know one thing about me, darling, it should be that I like to play with fire. Now, I’ve got to go. My class should have started four minutes ago and I can feel my students getting antsy. I’ll see you next week Alec-- don’t be a stranger.”

“Alright Magnus, enjoy your class and teach them everything they need to know about Napoleon. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh and Alexander,” Magnus calls out before either one has the chance to end the call.

“Yes?”

“I like it when you call,” Magnus says and hangs up, pocketing his phone and pushing off of the wall.

There’s a smile on his face and some pep in his step as he turns on his heel and enters the classroom. He’s no fool. He knows that this decision has the potential to blow up in his face. But, he just can’t deny that magnetic pull he feels.

He wants to ride out this wave and sees where it takes him-- where it takes them.

Magnus pretends that he doesn’t see the curious stares of his students-- Dr. Bane never starts class late. He might crack jokes and bemoan early mornings, but he’s the consummate professional. It’s unheard of for him to cancel class or start any later than right on time. His students must be dying to know what’s going on.

Magnus smirks and unbuttons his raincoat, hanging it on the back of the chair in the front of the room. He rolls up his shirtsleeves as he starts his lecture, not needing notes or an outline as he begins speaking, picking up where they'd left off Wednesday seamlessly.

Magnus keeps a steady pace for the next seventy-five minutes, his voice and the scratch of pens against notebooks the only sounds heard in the room.

In the back of his mind, Magnus revels in the everyday academia and prays it all doesn't come crashing down on him.

#httbt #my writing #update monday #lol #malec fic

[thesinglesjukebox]

KACEY MUSGRAVES - HIGH HORSE [7.38] You can take your high... scorse... and ride them straight... onto the sidebar, Kacey.

Lauren Gilbert: I am a connoisseur of song intros. Long before I wrote for TSJ, or any publication, I had lists of my favorite intros, playlists of just the first 30 seconds clipped out of context. (Needless to say, my ringtone game has always been on point.) This is a fucking excellent intro. The pulsing beat, the disco feel, the Shania Twain "oh, I bet you think you're John Wayne" - the intro is a solid [12]. The rest of the song is probably an [8] - despite being only 3:33, it feels like it runs out of ideas by the bridge - but this still averages to a solid [10]. [10]

Jonathan Bradley: "High Horse" is about as disco as Kylie Minogue's "Dancing" was country: that is conscientiously and carefully, without threatening to intrude too far upon unfamiliar cultural spaces. Instead each settles on a kind of naff AM-radio appeal that as easily positions it alongside "Islands in the Stream" as it does "September" or even "Copacabana." But where Minogue's song stirs nostalgia, the faded polyester drift of Musgraves's more Western sound fits her lyric's exhausted contempt. The opening line -- "I bet you think you're John Wayne" -- is sass worthy of Shania, but Kacey's disaffection crystallizes in her more arch dismissal: "You're classic in the wrong way." The hand claps, popping bass, and very canned strings underline the point. [8]

Alfred Soto: The question isn't whether Musgraves should record a Kylie-dusted cut like "High Horse"; it's whether the cut is better than middling at best beside Brandy Clark's unskinny bop fryin' up some girl's bacon in 2016. [6]

Joshua Copperman: I have qualms with "High Horse" that are more personal preference than genuine criticisms (I would love a more dynamic arrangement, for example), but I feel too late. Like "Run Away With Me" or "Praying," the place of "High Horse" in the modern pop canon was secured upon arrival. Musgraves sets up and lands every punchline, no matter how corny ("I bet you think you're first place/someone should give you a ribbon") or vague ("everyone knows someone who knows someone/Who thinks they're cooler than everybody else"). The song could literally consist of "I bet someone's got a bad case of the Mondays" repeated but Musgraves would still make it work. That the delivery is as good as it is separates Musgraves from both her country peers and her should-be pop contemporaries. With its meticulous craftsmanship and unapologetic twang, "High Horse" is great not despite being country, but because of how it stays true to the storytelling of classic country music while forging its own path. [8]

Abdullah Siddiqui: Fun, but vacant. Musgraves sounds unconvinced of her own pandering. And also, why is it considered innovation now, within a genre, to make things pinker and shinier? There was a kind of delicate grit to tracks like "Blowin' Smoke" and "Merry Go 'Round" that was genuinely interesting but she seems to have completely abandoned that. It's a little depressing to think how mainstream concessions are no longer just inevitable in the course of a musical career, but lauded as innovative. [4]

Ryo Miyauchi: Kacey's usual passive handling of conflict makes me wish this went a little harder on the personal with a more explicit hint that this may have actually been a diss at someone real. But the lyrical decorations from the Shania Twain-channeling opening line to that chorus full of silly twists to cowboy cliches forgive the lack at which she sinks her teeth. Oh, and the disco strut works wonders as well. [7]

Ian Mathers: Fun but slightly anemic-feeling pop country/lite disco hybrid seeks slightly more compelling chorus... the current one has a moment where it seems like it's about to lift off, but then it never does. Sometimes songs like this reveal with repeated listens that you've been tricked and in fact the gentler approach is key to the song; with "High Horse," as winning as it otherwise is, that just never happened for me. [6]

Stephen Eisermann: In my childish mind, this song is a big middle finger to everyone's least favorite country music critic/villain: the one who decides what real country music is and is trying so hard to save it (from bold women, it often feels like). This disco-flavored, pop-country track has all the makings of an anthem, but is delivered with such chilliness that rather than chant along, you can't help but let Kacey take the center stage to deliver each biting line with as much pettiness as possible. It's delicious, but also impressive - who thought that one of country's most recent rising stars could foray into pop so easily? [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Whenever country or country-leaning artists are poised to cross over, there's a certain tension, as they try (or don't) to reconcile the genre's Southern-libertarian values with mainstream pop culture. Comparisons to "That Don't Impress Me Much" are inevitable and probably intentional, but "get off your high horse," as an idiom, isn't about ego but moralizing. And buried in the guts of "High Horse" is the trope of the elitist carpetbagger from out of town who looks down upon the regular everyfolks -- a trope with, to put it mildly, baggage. (Also a trope where pointing it out is liable to get you branded one of them.) But it's left unexplored, subtext beneath a lyric of generalities; there's nothing as cartoonish as "I can't believe you kiss your car goodnight," but also nothing as vicious. Same goes for the lite-disco arrangement. [6]

Edward Okulicz: It's kind of a pity this song has to be disco to get the attention, because it's a neat little pop song to begin with, and the way it's been performed doesn't put that cleverness front and centre. It's fine as it is, but it could stand to be more full-blooded in its trip to the nightclub. It's got the whole Shania Twain going on meets the Alanis Morissette of not quite understanding the word that's the linchpin of your chorus, and that is viral paydirt, but you know Shania wouldn't have been so polite. The banjo line at the end reminds me of a song this should also sound more like: Basement Jaxx's "Take Me Back to Your House" which came at the country/dance combo from the other end, and works better on both counts. The icy but dreamy vocal performance of "High Horse" says Musgraves is not slumming it for laughs in the genre, but it's still not too late to commission the appropriate remix to prove it (the Kue remix is close, but not quite). [8]

Josh Love: If you stare at the lyrics too long, the sense of "High Horse" starts to go a little wobbly. Where I'm from, people who are on their high horse are usually thought to be acting holier-than-thou, like moral scolds, and are therefore rarely concerned with seeming like "they're cooler than everybody else." It's doubly fortunate then that this song's real selling point is how sleek and effortless it sounds. Maybe the words don't altogether scan, but as a piece of popcraft "High Horse" is assembled seamlessly. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A pure symbiosis of music and lyrics -- this fully commits to the disco-by-way-of-country aesthetic, which allows Musgraves' portrait of arrogance to turn from just another riff on "You're So Vain" to an instant camp classic. It helps that this is deeply fun, from the "giddy-up"'s of the chorus to the guitar and banjo parts, which skitter across the track with such precise glee that it almost made me think that someone should make more country & disco records. [9]

Alex Clifton: I've tried writing a more coherent review, but I'm struggling because I love this so much. So: it's everything I've ever wanted as a queer person who lives in the south who loves both disco and country! Kacey sounds amazing! I wanna karaoke this and point at random people in the crowd and tell them off for being snobs! I wanna rent a truck and blast this up and down the road! I wanna rent a truck and take this to the White House and blare it there, too! I want every song that comes out this year to make me feel as jazzed about being alive as "High Horse" does, and I won't settle for anything less! [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#kacey musgraves #music #new music #music video #country #country music #music writing #music reviews

[timeisacephalopod]

I hope by posting that ship and no. Post you were asking for prompts, if not then you can totally ignore this. So you were the one that got me into TonyBuckypeterquill ship so that's the one I am asking for with no. 11 partners in crime au😊😘. I seriously love everything you write.

I was asking for prompts, yes, and I got a good amount too so yay! So, WinterStarkQuill, got ya. Lets hope this turned out okay!!

***

“Why me?” Bucky asks. “I’m literally the worst for this job.”

Uh no, Peter totally disagrees and since he’s the one with experience he’s the obvious expert here. “You’re completely ridiculous- that makes you the best for distractions and we need those chips,” he says. Gamora has stolen them again and they are needed in his stomach immediately. Last time Nebula stole them, and the time before that it was Rocket. And that doesn’t even include all the times Tony’s stupid friends stole their chips too.

“If Gamora catches me she’ll kill me,” Bucky says.

“You have how many years of martial arts training? Hold her off while we execute the rescue mission Barnes. Go,” Tony tells him, shooing him out of the vehicle.

Bucky lets out a soft sigh and does as he’s told, scampering up to the door. “Yeah, he’s dead. Loved him, but love those chips more,” Peter says, stepping out of the car at the same time Tony does.

“Why him over me? I mean I’m just as distracting,” Tony points out.

“Yeah, but Bucky is poor. How could I fund my addiction to all those crazy Canadian chip flavors with no money? So you get to help me liberate the chips and we sacrifice Bucky for the greater good,” he says. Whoever invented all dressed chips best be in some kind of heaven like place because those things were fucking good and if it wasn’t for Parker’s weird relationship with that one rando Canadian guy with the fucked up face he never would have known about them. 

They stopped disapproving of Wade after he started smuggling them chips and Kinder eggs and assuring them that his friendship with Peter was just that. Which it better be because Peter P is a fucking fetus and Wade is old as tits. Not that Peter wouldn’t have overlooked that in favor of chips because he totally would. Its Tony that would lose his mind.

“Good point. You’re sure nothing is blocking the back door?” Tony asks as they round the side of the house.

“Nope. That little porch? That leads to Gamora’s room so lets make this a quick in and out type thing. If we’re fast we might not have to abandon Bucky,” he says.

Tony grins, “aww, you don’t want to sacrifice him after all,” he says.

“Well duh, but I will if I need to. Don’t think I won’t sacrifice you too if I have to- I am out for myself here.” Tony snorts and shakes his head, obviously not believing that much. Peter thinks he’s underestimating how selfish Peter is but you know what, he’ll find out of he has to sacrifice Tony to Gamora and run. 

He makes quick work of Gamora’s door, taking no less than ten second to pick the lock thanks to his abundance of experience and Tony gives the now open door a shocked look. “Holy shit Quill,” he says as Peter steps into the room, spying the chips immediately.

“Told you I had experience. Hell, we met when I broke into your house to steal all your shit, why are you surprised?” he asks. That moment, Peter had decided, was probably the weirdest in his life. He breaks into the house of a local billionaire to rob the dude of every possession he could get his little pansexual hands on and instead ends up with a threesome. Not that he didn’t swipe a few things too, mostly Rolexes that Tony never wore anyways but still. Its not like he expected a relationship out of it but Tony liked the sheer amount of guts he had and Bucky liked his memes. It worked out for everyone.

“You make a point but still,” Tony says, picking up the chips and walking back out. Peter quickly follows, locking the door behind him and they circle back around the house and into the car. “We gunna go get Bucky?” Tony asks and Peter considers it before shrugging.

“Yeah, why not? Might as well laugh as Gamora tries to chase down the car,” he says, turning them around and pulling up to the curb in front of Gamora and Nebula’s house.

Tony rolls down the window and leans out, “Barnes, get your fantastic ass back in this car, we got the goods!” he yells. Bucky wastes no time in escape, leaping over the porch railing and running as soon as he hits the ground. Unfortunately for him Gamora is just as fast.

“Shit he’s got two seconds or I’m fucking leaving him here,” Peter says, foot on the gas. He gives Bucky a slow count but hits the gas literally as Bucky dives into the passenger window, crushing Tony while he’s at it.

“Were you going to leave me there?” he asks, offended.

“Fuck yeah, Gamora is still after us,” he says, looking in the rear view mirror. 

Bucky swears and starts wiggling the rest of his body through the window he’s still hanging out of while Tony whines about being crushed. When they pass a cop car going seventy in a fifty zone and Bucky just pulling his last limb through the window Peter swears. The sirens go on and he sighs. 

“I can’t believe we’re in a high speed car chase over chips,” he mumbles. “I already have a long enough rap sheet.”

“I don’t have any rap sheet, hit the fucking gas Quill!” Bucky yells at him.

“Everyone calm the fuck down!” Tony yells. “You guys forgot the one ultimate rule of crime. Rich white guys never get arrested. Also I’m eighty percent sure that’s Steve so pull over, you know he’ll keep chasing us just to be a dick.”

Bucky turns around in the back seat and grins, “its is Steve!” he says, waving at him.

“Don’t wave at the fucking cops, Bucky. Who raised you?” he asks.

“A nice Jewish lady. Who raised you?” he counters.

Peter sighs. “A bitchy Southern guy with no moral compass, his skinny friend, and a guy named ‘Taserface’.” 

#winterstarquill #prompt fill

[itspatsy]

Part of me thinks JJS2 didn't want to acknowledge they'd majorly dropped the ball on race in S1, so in S2 they amped up the "Jessica is a part of a minority group" aspect, had a black woman say "you people," to turn the narrative even further away from Jessica's own white privilege, and destroyed Trish, who was a viable target because she wasn't a traumatized white woman like Jessica - she was a RICH white woman. And they were desperate to avoid their fuck-ups so they made Patsy a patsy.

okay, so this turned into a long, generally incoherent rant that starts with “this show absolutely fails at dealing with race” and ends with “wtf were they even trying to do with trish’s story,” and it should probably be separate posts or better yet just not posted at all, but it’s all generally related to this ask, so whatever. it’s a mess, i have a lot of confusing thoughts, ignore me.

rather than acknowledging the mistakes of s1 regarding race and trying to course correct, the show definitely seemed like it decided to double down. before the season started, as it was becoming clear they were going to do this “prejudice against powered people” thing, i was really weary about how they would handle it, and apparently my instinct was right. 

to start with, it felt kind of pulled out of nowhere. realistically, sure, people would be weary of powered individuals, but it hasn’t really been fully built into the fabric of the mcu or the netflix mcu as a realized form of bigotry. it was also really only a thematic element in the first half of the season, and they made no effort to really explore it and its implications before they tossed it out and changed gears. it was just there to be used as a device for conflict and drama. 

and it’s such a ridiculous thing when you only have one powered person in the show that’s experiencing that bigotry and she’s a skinny white heterosexual cis woman? like, the most direct parallel for this wasn’t misogyny or homophobia, but racism, and they didn’t try to tell multiple perspectives about it. having a black woman say “you people” at jessica was the most tone deaf bullshit, like, i could not fucking believe it (and then they later killed her off in the most disposable way, which is a whole other issue, and something this show has done repeatedly). they had oscar, a moc that had been in prison (of course), start out the same way, seemingly expressing bigotry and getting “righteously” called out for it by jessica. then there was pryce, another moc, aggressively going after jessica, trying to steal her business, calling her an animal because of her anger and powers, and he “never takes no for an answer” and jessica gets to be like “how rape-y of you” in what was supposed to be a moment of #femaleempowerment. but it just feels like white lady empowerment at the expense of poc. 

but hey, gotta pile on to show how very oppressed jessica is in every aspect of her life, right? which, yes, she has absolutely been oppressed and violated and traumatized, and that is so important and real and should never be diminished, but the show didn’t attempt to contend with the ways she’s also privileged and the ways she’s been able to use it to her advantage and having her acknowledge it (including the fact that having powers, being able to protect herself, is an incredible privilege instead of only the awful burden it’s been portrayed as and she’s always interpreted it as). i probably wouldn’t have even said they’d need to explicitly deal with this under other circumstances, if they were focused on telling a different story, but they’re the ones that decided to make analogies to racist prejudice and have poc express it towards a white woman, so they put the expectation on themselves to tell a nuanced story about oppression and privilege and intersectionality, and they didn’t do that at all. they clearly weren’t actually interested in talking about prejudice in a serious, meaningful way. 

but here’s the even bigger issue: the show tries to present itself as being feminist, but it can’t be feminist when there are no women of color in main roles or even supporting roles. it makes no effort to tell the stories and perspectives and experiences of woc, and that is an absolute failure. it’s inexcusable that they made no effort to fix this. it absolutely doesn’t help that the woc that are actually present in small roles keep getting killed off unceremoniously. i had some hopes when i saw that they had females directors that actually included some woc, but i don’t think they have any in the writing room, and that matters SO MUCH. it makes such a difference, and they could’ve probably avoided so many of these missteps if they just had other voices represented in the creative process. i just saw a headline with melissa rosenberg where she says, “oh yeah, i totally agree with the criticism we don’t have enough women of color,” okay, except this is not a new criticism, people were saying the same thing after s1, so if she agrees with it and cares about it, why didn’t she do anything about it while they were making s2?

the show has sort of attempted with men of color, in that they actually exist in the cast, but it doesn’t handle them well at all, some of which i mentioned before. then you’ve got malcolm. the only lead character of color in s2. he was set up to be the moral center of the show, but there was no real follow through. he was ultimately treated like an afterthought in most situations. he just? disappeared? constantly? when shit went down? i lost count of the number of times i was like, “umm, where the fuck did malcolm go? is he all right?” and the characters around him were pretty consistently awful to him. jessica almost always treated him like shit. his relationship with trish was a train wreck they both kind of contributed to, but trish turned on him pretty epically, and the emotional fallout for him wasn’t really dealt with. and the writers told his “proxy addiction” story in the laziest, grossest way possible (sex? really? that’s all they could think up? and then to use it as excuse to have him treat women like they’re disposable and faceless?). they just clearly have no respect for him. 

it’s such a mess, and s2 was probably worse than s1 in this regard, and there’s no reason it needed to be. this isn’t an impossible thing. when people tell you, “hey, you fucked up. this is how,” you don’t double down or pretend it didn’t happen, you listen and you do better. this should be a show for everyone, not just white women. 

turning to trish, since you mentioned her: i’ve mostly tried to avoid post-s2 reviews, but one of the few i read described her character arc as a critique of the white savior mindset. i highly doubt that’s what the show had in mind. as we established above, careful thoughtful commentary about race is not this show’s strong suit, and writing a critique of the white savior mold wouldn’t even occur to them. i could kind of see where the reviewer was coming from, there were some flavors of white savior-ism in trish’s behavior, but they had to pretend she had never experienced an ounce of hardship in order to make it fit. this was basically the conclusion: “trish is rich and has a family and could never under poor traumatized orphaned jessica’s life.” nevermind that money doesn’t stop you from being abused and traumatized, that a family member was her primary abuser, and that living in poverty and wanting money was the motivation for her abuser to sell her out. this take also ignores the thing driving trish the most. it wasn’t “i want to help people, and they should listen to me because i know best” or even “i want to be special, i want to matter.” it was “nobody touches me anymore unless i want them to.” she was tired of being the victim, of never feeling safe. that’s why she wanted powers. it was muddied by the writing, but it really is as straight-forward as that.

i think trish being rich has likely had some influence in the audience diminishing how she was violated and abused in most every kind of way (physically, emotionally, sexually, financially), but i definitely don’t think the show went after her for being a rich famous white lady as a cover for its various racial fuck-ups. i don’t think the show even really tried to contend with or acknowledge her rich white privilege anymore than it tried to contend with jessica’s privilege. if anything, it tried to do the opposite by showing her to be belittled and demeaned and disrespected by everyone around her, similar to how they were upping the ante on jessica’s oppression by having her face bigotry about her powers. granted, it’s clear the audience had an easier time relating to jessica (probably partly due to the money and fame aspect again; also partly because the narrative backed her up more: for instance, the dynamic of having trish envy the privilege of jessica’s power, but the show seeming to say “oh, gosh, trish just doesn’t understand it’s not a privilege at all, it’s a terrible burden” even though that’s kind of ridiculous, as i mentioned earlier). the execution was shitty, but they were definitely still trying to show that trish’s life was not good and people treated her like she was nothing and worthless in a way that paralleled jessica’s treatment.

tbh, rather than punishing trish for being rich or whatever, i sometimes got the vibe they were actually punishing her for daring to have ambition, but that probably wasn’t on purpose, just an unfortunate implication of the way they treated her in general. at first, i’d assumed they were trying to tell a story about addiction and the ways it can destroy your life, and they just sucked at handling it with any kind of thoughtfulness, but now i think that’s being too generous. they didn’t even really try to grapple with the reality of her addiction and mental illness, so much as use it as an excuse to make her more unstable and put her in a position where she’d keep escalating things. 

i read an interview before the season dropped where melissa rosenberg talked about female anger (or, as the reality of the show is, white female anger), and anger definitely was a theme for all the female characters. if you recognize trish’s main motivator as mentioned above (protecting herself from further abuses), you can see where it fits into this theme, and that it wasn’t just senseless anger and was driven by vulnerabilities and never feeling safe. so, i don’t know, i guess trish’s story was maybe intended to be about an abused woman finally being so goddamn fed up with victimhood and disrespect and belittlement that she decided to take what she needed instead of quietly waiting for other people to acknowledge her humanity and treat her accordingly. that she finally said “fuck it” and tried to find her own power and become her own hero. except, if that was the story, the way it was executed was, wow… exceptionally awful and not remotely clear and not at all done in a positive way. a storyline like that could’ve had the potential to be powerful and affirming and perhaps empowering (once again, for white women at least), but that’s not the story they ended up telling. 

like, i honestly don’t get what i’m supposed to take away from it. they seemingly gave her what she was after, but they spent the entirety of the season shitting on her and had her destroy everything good in her life to get what she believed she needed, which was really just to feel safe. what’s the point here exactly? you do you boo and fuck everybody else because it’ll pay off? don’t have dreams and ambitions for yourself because they’ll make you heartless and selfish and you’ll hurt other people? the desire for power always corrupts even when you’ve been a victim and just want the power to protect yourself? trauma doesn’t go away and can make you do terrible self-destructive shit that you think is helping you but actually isn’t? drug addicts are awful, amirite? what. are. they. trying. to. say?

#anonymous #replies #my thoughts about s2 are a constantly shapeshifting shadow monster #and it's hard to settle into any specific feelings that aren't just 'honestly fuck the writers in general and m rosenberg in particular'