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emberfrostlovesloki · 7 months

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Coffee Shop [Reader x Spencer]

Spencer's picture is credited to @lightningcrashes The other photos are mine.

Prompt: Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time, aka, when the reader and Spencer order the same, oddly specific coffee order, and the reader can see that Spencer is struggling and tries her best to be someone he can lean on. This story is more about Aaron and Spencer’s relationship than anything else and it deals with Spencer’s drug abuse problem (the reader is just kind of there).

Category: Angst/comfort/whump

Word Count: 4.7K

Content Warnings: Depiction of drug abuse (Spencer and Dilaudid), addiction, near overdose, brief mention of Tobias Hackel’s episode, mention of depression (and seasonal depression), suicidal ideation, mention of therapy/therapists, canon typical violence, suicide by cop (unsub), mention of child abuse (in the past), Narcan is given, hospitals.

A/N: I’m going to say a lot here. Please bear with me. I didn’t love how the show handled Spencer’s drug abuse in seasons two and three. It felt like his issues were just “solved” in season three by movie magic. That never sat right with me. So I had the idea for this one shot to provide a possible scenario that addresses Reid’s abuse and Aaron’s response to that problem. This is written as a platonic relationship with the reader. Aaron is acting like a dad to Reid here. I tried to make the depiction of drugs and drug abuse as accurate as possible, but if you see that I am totally off on something, please let me know in a direct message or comment. I’ve never written something like this before so I hope it’s okay. This takes place soon after season 2 episode 17 “Distress.”

If at any time you need to stop reading this story, please do so. My writing is not worth your mental health!

The literal prompt came from @imagining-in-the-margins and her amazing Meet Cute Writing challenge, though this is less of a Meet Cute and more of a possible friendship situation.

Lastly, and on a more positive note, if you liked this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

The coffee shop tantalizingly close to _y/n_’s apartment was packed today. Maybe it was because of the rain, or the fact that it had actually started to feel like fall in Virginia, and seasonal change just intrinsically called for a nice warm beverage. _y/n_ would normally dread being in a space this packed, but she’d had a good weekend and there was a soft hum of voices that made her feel oddly secure. She was grateful, however, that she had woken early enough to stand in the line and not be stressed about getting to work on time. As she made it to the front of the line, the barista, Belinda, looked up at her and smiled. “The unusual?” Belinda asked. _y/n_ nodded and said, “The usual, please.” _y/n_ pulled out her card and rewards punch card; she was two drinks away from a free beverage. _y/n_ often found rewards programs a waste, but with how often she found herself at The Press coffee shop, it was a no-brainer. _y/n_ stood by the far wall where there was actually a comfortable space to stand. There lights weren’t so bright and the music was softer as she waited for her drink. Even though it had been a good weekend, she was still tired. The feeling seemed to linger with her. _y/n_ wondered if her seasonal depression was pressing its way back into her life. _y/n_ closed her eyes and added calling her therapist’s office and making an appointment to her mental task list. Over time _y/n_ had learned that letting these emotions of melancholia fester was only a portent of emotional pain in the future.

The sound of her drink being called snapped her back to herself and her surroundings. _y/n_ moved through those also standing and waiting for their own caffeine fixes. When she finally made it to the counter she reached out for her creme brulee late with a double espresso, but she wasn’t the only one who was reaching for the cup. _y/n_ assumed that the man, who looked oddly familiar, was reaching for the cup next to hers. She was wrong. Their hands brushed together as they both reached for the latte and an unexpected warmth ran up her arm. _y/n_ turned to look directly at the slender, tall man trying to get her drink. She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry I think that’s mine.” The man looked down at her and swallowed, before replying, “No, I’m sure it’s mine. Sorry, I’m going to be late for my train.” With that, the man reached forward, took the contested drink into his slender hand, and moved as quickly as he could to the front door. _y/n_ watched him go with her drink and tried to pinpoint where she knew him from. It took a second, but once was out the door she remembered and facepalmed. ‘Of, course,’ she thought. The man lived on her floor at the apartment at the other end of the hall on the opposite side of her unit. She wondered if she would have to will to confront him later. That was if she even saw him. The man seemed to be gone for days, sometimes a full week at a time. In the evenings when she came back from work sometimes he would be going out with his normal shoulder bag. Other times when she was returning late from getting drinks with friends, he would also ride the elevator up with her. In these cases, he had a duffle bag with him. In essence, he didn’t seem to hold a normal schedule.

With the mystery of where she knew the man from solved, _y/n_ sighed and got ready to get back in line. _y/_ knew that Belinda would understand and not make her pay again for a new drink. Just as she was getting in line, the woman making the drinks called out, “Large creme brulee latte with a double espresso.” This stopped _y/n_ in her tracks. She was the only person that she knew who ordered that drink. Was it possible that the man really had also placed the same orderer as her? _y/n_ moved back to the counter and waited a few minutes just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. When it was apparent that no one was getting that cup, she moved forward and took it from the counter. She looked at the name on the cup and it most certainly wasn’t hers. It read: S. Reid. In the end, it didn’t really matter, she had her drink and it had just been an accident. And now she knew that someone on her apartment floor had the same taste in coffee as her. _y/n_ looked at her watch and realized that she needed to get a move on if she wanted to get to work on time.

That evening the lithe man was nowhere to be seen, as she let herself into her apartment. _y/n_ wondered what she did for a living. As _y/n_ moved inside, she pondered that maybe he was a professor of some sort? Or a public speaker who was required to travel often. The man certainly seemed smart enough for it. When she had overheard his phone calls riding up or down the elevator he always spoke fast and used some of the best cadences she had ever heard. Much of what he had been saying went way over her head. However, as her thoughts turned to who she assumed was S. Reid, she thought about the small changes she had noticed about him over time. It wasn’t like she was spying on him, but his mannerisms and odd comings and goings had drawn her attention. She supposed that he was around her age, maybe a year or two older. When she had first moved in around a month and a half ago and seen him for the first time, she had wondered if she could strike up a friendship with him. It would be nice to have a friend in the building. Someone to gossip with about the loud neighbor across the hall. Or someone to grab their package for them from the mail room fifteen floors down. However over the little time _y/n_ had lived there, she had seen S. Reid change -- withdraw into himself. It reminded her of herself, and how she really just wanted a friend. As _y/n_ set her bag down on the sofa, she pulled out her phone and tapped in her therapist’s office number; she felt like she needed a good cry.

Reid struggled during the next case. Emily’s comments and his own harsh reply were plaguing him like the need for his next hit was plaguing him. The chills and sweating kept him cold much of the time which meant he had to wear more layers which just made the sweating worse. Then there was the irritability at everything from the team to the bright lights and the goddamn fact that he had to roll and shift so many layers of clothes to find his vein to get the needle under his skin. Spencer knew he was taking more each day and knew that it was going to be harder to find the illicit substance without having to go to the same dealer. This was something Spencer had avoided doing up to this point. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to become a ‘regular’ because if word got out, or the ring got busted, there was no going back from there. Even if he did his best to use another name and paid in cash, he just knew it would be the end for him. He could already feel things becoming the end for him. Like it was lurking behind each corner of the industrial warehouses the team was currently investigating. Looking for an unsub that, ironically killed via lethal injection. It would be funny if real people's lives were not in the balance, and yet here he was playing with his own life each time he shot up.

Back at the precinct, Spencer moved quickly to the men’s restroom. The ache in his joints and the inability to sleep knawed at him to the bone. He wanted to trash and scream and curse, and suddenly, before he could stop his hands from shaking while he took out the glass vial and unsteadily pushed a clean needle in, sucking up the pleasure-poison, Reid was in heaven again. The weight that was lifted off his shoulders was so immense that he sank down onto the toilet seat and put the cap on the medicine before he dropped it on the floor. The sound of the door opening and Hotch’s voice asking, “You in here Reid,” had the younger man pulling at his sleeve and hiding his secret in the inner pocket of his shirt. When this was done. Spencer flushed and walked out of the stall trying to look like he was in control. Spencer cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sorry. I’ll be back in the briefing room in a moment.” Hotch’s eyes found Reid’s wild, frenzied ones, and Aaron nodded. As the Unit Chief made it back outside, he thought about the very difficult conversation he was going to have to have with Reid. Aaron was berating himself for having his youngest subordinate’s drug problem go on so long undressed, and he was going to have to face the consequences of not acting sooner.

The case had ended in as much of a climax as possible. The unsub took his final victim's life and realized that he wasn’t getting out of this without a lengthy prison sentence. Instead of facing the consequences of the law, the man decided to let the cops end him, and he finished his life on his own terms, which was cruel given the fact that those he had killed weren’t given that option. As the plane landed everyone got out and moved tiredly toward the bullpen. The flight back had been awkward. Given Spencer’s new ‘behavior,’ the team was on edge. After what had happened with Hickel and Reid, the team was shaken. Clearly, Spencer was changed. It was as if the team was waiting for other shoe to drop, and the suspense was nearly unbearable. As everyone got into the building, and up to their floor, ready to go to their own homes or apartments, Aaron called Spencer up to his office. Reid stood nervously in the neat space, as Aaron said, “Can we meet tomorrow at three p.m.?” Spencer froze for a moment, knowing this conversation would come eventually. Spence nodded and tried to sound like everything was okay, while internally he felt like his guts were being pulled from his body. He cleared his throat at replied, “Of course, Hotch. See you then.” With their meeting set for tomorrow, Aaron dismissed Reid. As Spencer rode the elevator down to the bottom floor of his building, he wondered if there was anything worse than the concept of ‘tomorrow.’

The meeting time came and Spencer sat down. His heart was pounding in his chest faster than he could keep up with. Aaron sat across from him with his brows pulled together, showing his concern. Reid shuffled in his seat for a moment before Hotch pulled his attention saying, “Reid. Spencer. You know what this is about?” Spencer’s head dipped in shame, indicating that he did and that he wasn’t comfortable having to confront it. Aaron let out a breath asking, “What is it you're taking? Dilaudid?”

After Hankel had been killed the team had gone to the hospital. The doctor at the hospital had explained how Spencer had been drugged with the schedule II drug. There was a serious discussion about how Dr. Reid would need to have a safe place to withdraw and the possibility that addiction could be a problem without careful treatment. Hotch had done everything he could that the medical professional had suggested to support Reid in his recovery. However, Spencer was a grown man, and he couldn’t stop or overstep into his agent's personal life. It became clear early on that Spencer was still using a substance, but Hotch didn’t know what the drug of choice was. Of course, he had an assumption. Aaron’s first instinct had been to protect Reid from the system that would certainly terminate him if they found out about his problems. Now, as Aaron looked over Spencer's sallow, twitchy form, he wondered if he had made a mistake in not just addressing the problem as soon as he had clocked it.

After a long silence, Spencer replied, “It’s the same.” Hotch nodded and said, “I’m sorry Spencer. I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything until now.” Reid’s breathing picked up and he looked over at his boss, asking, “Are you firing me?” And here was the crux of the issue. Aaron didn’t know what to do really. This wasn’t a scenario that he had planned for. Hotch replied, “I’m not sure Spencer. But I think you should take some time off to get some help. I’ll help you if you need.” Hotch was sincere in his concern and willingness to do what he could to get his friend into a better place. Part of Spencer could understand this. The other half of him, the half half-crazed for another high was screaming that he shouldn’t let go of the pleasure the drugs brought him.” All Spencer knew was the BAU. It was security, family, and a place where he could be himself. And part of him, an irrational part of him, felt that now that he had changed, the team didn’t want him anymore.

This part of his brain continued to tease and taunt him and made sure he felt that the reason Hotch was suggesting he get help was because of his capture and torture, not the fact that he was using illicit substances on the job and putting the reputation of the whole team on the line. Spencer said, “I can do this job Hotch.” Reid was pleading, and Aaron could see the panic in his eyes and said, “I’m not saying you can’t. I just think you need some time. What happened to you was traumatic, and I think you’re still dealing with the long-term effect of that.” Spencer felt like his world was crumbling, and he couldn’t see that Hotch wasn’t letting him go, or even judging him, just trying to reach out.

Since taking Dilaudid, Reid was finding it harder to keep control of his words and emotions. He would say things unbidden, as he had with Emily. He could feel it happening again. He tried to strangle the words in his throat, but they came out, harsh and piercing, “Just because your father took drugs and beat you doesn’t mean that I’m going to start doing that with anyone.” The words hung in the air for a second, Spencer could see the hurt in Aaron’s eyes at bringing up and using such painful memories to him. However, after a second, the emotion was replaced by disappointment and concern.

Spencer took a breath and murmured, “Hotch, I…” Aaron filled in the blank and said, “I know. I know you didn’t mean that. Please, Spencer. I’m worried for you. Let me put in the paperwork for a leave of absence. Just for a week. I can email them to you and all you need to do is sign and send them back.” Wordlessly, Reid nodded his head, swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. For the first time that day, Spencer felt the great care that Aaron was showing him. He put his head in his hands and began crying, sucking in air between sobs. The fact that Aaron was willing to actually say something. To address what he was doing hurt, and he felt shame for doing what had. But Hotch wasn’t showing shame or embarrassment in his expression, just care. Hotch stood from his side of the desk and moved to Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder to provide a comforting touch. Reid turned into Hotch’s touch and eventually, the sobbing abated. Hotch pulled back and said, “We’ll help you with this. I promise. I want to see you back here at your best, and I recognize that hard, and it takes time. But I think it’s worth it if we can have you helping us at your full ability again.” Spencer nodded and said, “Thank you, Hotch. I’m sorry.” Aaron nodded his head no and replied, “Don’t be sorry. We’ll work through this together.”

There were a few more minutes of conversation between the two men. Spencer agreed to what Aaron had suggested and he left Hotch’s office feeling better. The feeling didn’t last. It had been over six hours, and he was starting to feel the urge again. By the time he got back to his apartment, the feeling was overwhelming. Aaron’s supportive and encouraging conversations warred with his need to be free from all his feelings and concerns. The shame and need bubbled up in him as he walked with an urgency to the men’s restroom at the lobby of his apartment complex. It hurt like a brand to not even be able to make it up to his room to find release. Spencer slumped against the wall as he let the drugs enter him. He hadn’t even looked carefully as he inserted the dosage into his body. For a moment everything stilled and nothing mattered. Reid was grateful that the lobby was mostly empty, as he got into the elevator and rose to his floor. The lights from the city blurred as if he had permanent astigmatism. It was beautiful, but dizzying to look at. As the elevator doors opened, Spencer stumbled to the end of the hallway. He made it past one of the other residents on his floor and to his front door. He reached into his shoulder bag for his keys and found the cold metal under his fingers. Reid pulled his keyring from his bag and attempted to fit the metal into the lock. He attempted the simple motor function twice but missed both times. He suddenly felt dizzy and weak and felt his body lean against the door as if it weren’t his own.

_y/n_ watched as her odd floormate, who apparently got the same coffee order as her, moved out from the elevator. She noticed that he was not well, as he stumbled past her. He just nearly avoided running into her. One of his sleeves was up, and she could see for the first time the puncture wounds and bruising in the veins of his left arm. _y/n_ bit the inside of her mouth. Somehow S. Reid had never seemed like the type to engage in drug use. However, she realized that anyone could be struggling with anything, no matter what they looked or acted like. She had seen her fair share of pain and loss due to substance abuse. It seemed that no matter where she found herself. the impact that The War on Drugs and The Opioid Epidemic was never far from her door. But it was never far from anyone’s door given the impact and dramatic spike in desire for drugs over the past decade. When the soft sound of metal hitting the carpeted hallway got to _y/n_, she looked over and found the man slumped against the door. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Given what she knew about the man now, she felt that something really bad was happening. _y/n_ rushed over to him and said, “Hey, can you hear me? Are you alright?” In a non-lucid state, Spencer made a soft nondistinguishable noise. _y/n_ picked up his keys and unlocked his door. She found the light switch and then helped the man to a chair. His eyes were bloodshot and pupils were retracted so much that they nearly looked like a pin point. _y/n_ knelt down and said, “Hey, Reid, is your name Reid? Can you talk to me?” At hearing his last name, Spencer seemed to find some awareness but not much.

_y/n_ had seen this type of behavior once before and that time it had been too late. She wasn’t letting this man go too. _y/n_ rushed to her own apartment and found the drawer she was looking for. With the nasal spray in hand, she moved back to the man’s apartment. She helped Reid to the floor. At this point he was barely breathing. Looking over him, _y/n_clearly said, “I’m going to give you a dose of Narcan, and I’m going to stay with you until help arrives.” Reid gave no response, nor did he say ‘no’ to what she said. With this in mind and the fact that it was clear that he was overdosing, _y/n_ took the cap off of the Naloxone and moved the applicator into the man's nostril. _y/n_ pressed the trigger. After the medication was inside his system, she moved him into the recovery position so he could breathe better. Next, _y/n_ called 9-1-1. The paramedics arrived quickly and because _y/n_ had been the one who had found him, she went with them to the hospital to give any information she might have. This wasn’t how _y/n_ had planned on spending her Thursday night, but it was worth it if her neighbor would live. She would do it again in an instant. After twenty minutes, the hospital administrator found Spencer’s emergency contact.

Hotch was in bed when he got the call. He picked up the phone and said, “Agent Hotchner. Who is this?” When he heard the response on the other end of the line, he was up in an instant. He pulled on some sweats and a shirt and he was headed to North Central Hospital in under five minutes. Hotch moved to the reception desk. The nurse sitting behind the desk asked for his name, and Hotch said, “Aaron, Hotchner. I’m here for Spencer Reid. I’m his emergency contact.” The woman nodded and looked in her system before saying, “Yes. Good. Mr. Hotchner, Dr. Reid is with the doctor right now, and we’ll send the doctor out to give you updates. If you like. you can sit in the waiting area.” Hotch nodded and asked, “How was Dr. Reid found?” The nurse looked at him and said, “A woman in his apartment found him and administered aid. She’s actually sitting on the far wall.” Hotch looked over and saw _y/n_. Briefly, he turned back to the nurse and said, “Thank you.” Aaron was worried and scared for his friend. After the conversation they had earlier today that seemed to have gone in a positive direction, Spencer’s problem seemed to have come to a head in a more public fashion. Hotch considered that keeping Spencer’s problems ‘in-house’ versus having it be public was better or worse. But in the end, it didn’t matter. None of it did as long as Spencer was okay. Aaron wished he could do more than wait for news, but there wasn’t. He had refrained from calling the team apart from Rossi and Derek. He felt that the fewer people that knew about this right now, the better it might be for Spencer’s career.

Aaron moved next to the woman who had found Spencer, and she looked up at him. She seemed concerned. She had been picking at her nails and looking at the door that headed to the ER. As Aaron approached her, he said, “Hi. My name is Aaron Hotchner. I understand you found Spencer Reid at his apartment? I’m his friend? Thank you for getting him help” The woman was relieved to know that there was someone there for her neighbor. She stood and extended her hand saying, “I’m _y/n _l/n_. I’m sorry your friend is going through this.” Hotch nodded and took a seat next to _y/n_ who also sat down. Aaron turned to look at _y/n_ and asked, “May I ask what happened? Where did you find Spencer?” _y/n_ replied, “I was headed into my apartment, and Spencer was trying to get into his unit as well. He didn’t look well, and I noticed the marks on his arm. He kind of fell forward and I went over to see if I could help. I noticed the signs of overdose and did what I could to help.” Aaron nodded and said sincerely, “Thank you for that.” Hotch was deeply grateful that someone had been around to help Spencer when he needed it this woman hadn’t acted as a bystander but actually did what she could to help. Aaron saw so many people just walk by when people were in distress in his job, and knowing that there were people willing to stand up and do something gave him a tiny bit of hope in this terrible situation. They continued to speak briefly before a member of the staff let her know that she could leave. Before _y/n_ went, she gave Aaron Spencer’s keys and asked if she could give him her number and that if he would text her if Spencer was going to be alright? Hotch agreed and took down her number. He thanked her once more and as she walked out the door, he could see Rossi coming into the bright, fluorescent-lit hospital space.

_y/n_ called a cab and as she moved back toward her apartment. The lights on the streets glistened and cast colorful shadows on the puddles on the road. It had just recently rained. _y/n_ sat back and thought about how ugly and cruel life could be. What taking drugs could do to a person. The face of her floormate's friend came to mind at how concerned he had looked. Sometimes the media liked to make drugs look fun, sexy, and a good time, but that just wasn’t the reality. Sherlock came to mind. The man was a genius and an addict and people loved him! And what wasn’t to love? Because the show never really gave the audience the chance to see what those substances he took would do to a man like Holmes. Then there was Euphoria and its teen angst and bisexual lighting, and even if the show got the drug part right, it didn’t change the fact that the world looked beautiful and that every character was hot. Reality was much, much, sadder. As _y/n_ thought over her own lived experience she hoped that Spencer would get better. Now that she had had this interaction with him she would be sure to get to know him if she could. So he knew there was at least one person in his building that was there for him if he needed it.

Back at the hospital, Aaron talked to Rossi about what to possibly do for Reid and the team. After another twenty minutes, the doctor came out and told both men that Spencer would be alright. That he had made it. After the doctor had given them the relevant information, a nurse led him back to Spencer’s room. Reid looked up from his bed and the shame painted over his face. As Hotch stepped forward, he saw how ragged Reid looked. Spencer could only manage to say Aaron’s name before he turned to look away. Aaron pulled up a chair and sat down saying. “I know Spencer. I’m right here.” And he would be there, and so would the team. The future looked murky right now, but Hotch was going to fight for Spencer. Fight for him to be on the team and for him to be well. Because Spencer was the smartest person he knew, and he cared deeply for his friend. He was going to do everything he could to keep him in his life.

#criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer x y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #reader x spencer reid #spencer angst #whumptober #whump #read the warnings #drug abuse #derek morgan #emily prentiss #ssa aaron hotchner #reader insert #criminal minds x reader #spencer comfort #hotch is a dad #spencer's drug problem

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gg-carboxylase · 10 months

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Got ahold of Step by Step episode 12. We needed 2 more episodes as usual with these series.

If you've not watched the show, please do. It's worth your time, even if you feel like you're wading thru the first few episodes. It's slow burn. This is not horny hours. This is really office hours.

Spoilers under the cut obvs.

Some meta. Mostly my opinions.

I wrote that paragraph before the Mildly Spicy Bed Makeout. I kind of enjoy that Jeng shooed Pat to the shower For Reasons. At least, I personally infer bottom reasons but that's just me. Still, I would have liked more spice à la Bed Friend, but I'm a thirsty ho.

I'll get this admission off my chest — I'm bummed that we got those really spicy kisses and that's as far as it went. KP and Domundi productions spoiled me, obviously. Did I want to see them fake fuck? Yeah. I'll admit it.

The scene where they were writing out then deleting their text messages was acted to perfection.

Hot take — Ben is the worst ugly crier. We love him anyway.

Jeng is a stalker, he needs to learn to go less hard. He also needed to resign like, 2 years earlier from the company. Good for him though. Dad is hot. Shame he's a homophobe.

I am super over people singing in the shows, no matter how good they are.

I love that Jeng's passion is cooking.

You can tell this is a real Thai show because when they show that green curry, it's real green curry even if it's store bought. It's hard to find good green curry paste over here unless you're in certain places.

Jeng's mom — what was the point of a 30 second meeting. Ben is so good at being nervous and young, he's really a great actor.

The chemistry is off the charts in this episode, good Christ. They obviously had fun shooting the cake scene.

Jeng better have a hell of a savings if he's returning all his shares to his dad and putting his hopes on his restaurant.

The restaurant biz is a bitch. I grew up in the restaurant business and the margins are razor thin, even in famous and successful restaurants. Hopefully, Pat's advertising firm is doing well.

Seriously, again. Needed another couple episodes. Especially with how Jeng's dad tossed his resignation letter.

I know Man said this would be his only BL, but I would really like to see them do another show together. They really got their shit together at the end and it's rare to see a couple that can have this kind of chemistry.

The age difference works really well between them, it's comfortable — which isn't there for a lot of decade+ couples — and there's a lot of plots where this could be used. So let's manifest that.

I have no idea what the fuck Man does for a living, so I'm not sure if he's even free to do another series. Dude has an econ degree, which means nothing (no offense econ folks, you guys are like Swiss army knives). I suspect he's a mini Mile Phakphum, and just sort of exists on the largess of his family and his modeling career.

I very much liked this series. It's definitely in my list of favorites. For me, it started out rocky because I didn't understand what it was trying to do. Looking back, now that I see what the aim is, the path it took is perfect.

Would I have liked more sex? Absolutely, but as I mentioned before — I'm a thirsty ho. These lads get paid more than I make as a clinical lab scientist, spending my day making your doctor look smart. A little bed shenanigans isn't too much to ask.

Alas, I can't complain too much. The kisses we got were A+, top-tier compared to nearly any other series. The physical stuff we did get was also A+. Truly, my complaints are mostly unfounded. We could have ended up with Korean level bullshit.

I'm not going to bother with meta about the story because there's users here that are far better at articulating exactly what I want to say, so troll the tag for them.

#step by step episode 12 #step by step series #step by step #man trisanu #ben bunyapol #jeng x pat #jeng kittiphong #pat phakphum #Loved it

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menzoberranzans · 5 months

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2, 13, 14, 29 :3

HI BABY THANK YOU FOR ASKIFN ABOUT MY BOY

2. What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?

PREFACING THIS ANSWER BY SAYING HE IS A GUY it was just like. a mulan type deal at first. i am not being transphobic he was crazy. anyway

typical drow noble family relationship :) no tbh tho i don’t know exactly house xorlarrin handles Child Raising bc they’re kind of weird anyway and i haven’t read as much abt them as i’d like so far, so i’m just creating my own lore for it and if i’m wrong No i’m not. :)

anyway elkrysn was born as the 7th of 7 daughters to the matron mother of house xorlarrin and was like. going to just be nothing.

but then he started showing very strong magical promise even moreso than his siblings and so of course. his sisters Hated him. because why should the ugly youngest be the strongest? if they took him out he wouldn’t be a threat to family rank. he spent the first 20 or so years of his life being tormented by his 6 older sisters, around 19 “transitioning” in a play to go to sorcere instead of arach tinileth, and also to rise significantly in station.

a man isn’t as good as a woman but a firstborn son gets plenty of benefits that a seventh daughter likely wouldn’t have. his mother honestly thought it was very clever despite his “debasing” himself by acting like a man. and it Was clever, because at that point his sisters stopped seeing him as so much of a threat, since he wasn’t after Their status and wasn’t after the title of high priestess, and so despite their hatred of him they did start to treat him a Little differently. not that they ever got Nicer, but it Was a different type of torment that felt marginally less dangerous.

he does end up quite close with his eldest sister for a while before the house leaves for gauntlgrym, which is why the emperor picked her form to use because she was the only person in all of faerun that elkrysn would trust at the time.

his relationship with his extended family tho was Extremely tenuous because he Was the headboy and direct son of the matron mother but the way he got there was very crafty and unconventional so he was obviously clever and desperate enough for power that he Would do anything to get it, including losing his privilege as a woman in menzoberranzan.

all this to say that his family didn’t have any love for him whatsoever but the matron mother did respect his unconventional methods bc that’s what xorlarrin is all about. his youngest sisters though Did plan several unsuccessful assassinations against him because they were unhappy that he was able to raise in station before them despite being youngest.

AT SOME POINT HE BECOMES TRANS FOR REAL dot worry about it. probably in school or smth idk when it happened is not actually relevant to his character

that got very off track. Hello

13. How does your Tav feel about the wilderness?

it’s too fucking bright and there’s too many Good things. there’s like bunnies and squirrels and at any point he could wander into a group of faeries and have to waste spell slots on killing them :/ but it Is full of interesting things that he’s never seen before that he can use in alchemy and enchanting to do things that No one back home has done. which makes it worth it to him honestly LOL

14. How does your Tav feel about the city?

it’s noisy and crowded and dirty, there’s no grand temples to lolth despite all the space they have to build them, no one moves out of his way when he approaches, and it fucking stinks. he absolutely Hates it and he has never in his life been more dedicated to lolth and her revenge on surface dwellers than he is upon entering baldurs gate

29. What advice would you give to your Tav?

read a self help book on hot to talk to people. please. negative rizz ass. you drive me insane

#ask meme #oc. elkrysn #i liek him.

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anonil88 · 3 years

Text

Malcolm and Marie live blog

I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.

Spoilers ahead!!

I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.

A tune indeed.

When you are high and drunk on success and

How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.

Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.

So he's pretentious and unaware.

Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.

Can this nigga stop pacing.

Also can he stop talking;

Marie is so tired and unimpressed.

Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.

Oooo the tension and the jazz.

Title Card over mac and cheese.

Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.

Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.

John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.

Guilty confession?

He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....

If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.

GASLIGHTER!

The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.

Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.

He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.

If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.

I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.

70s vibes! 70s vibes!

Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.

Women really are behind every great man.

Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.

Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.

She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.

Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.

I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.

Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?

The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.

Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.

Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.

Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.

Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.

So she's conditional.

Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.

Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba

He is so hurtful.

A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.

John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.

He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.

Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.

This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.

They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.

Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.

The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.

He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.

Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄

ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.

Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.

He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.

Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.

He ain't even ask her to read?

One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)

You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.

Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)

But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.

To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.

Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.

CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.

I love Marie yep that was amazing.

Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)

He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.

Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.

I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.

Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.

Marie to herself and the audience:

He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.

The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5

Oh shit this is my song,

Ratings/overall thoughts:

Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.

Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.

Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.

John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.

Cinematography: A and a participation award.

The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.

Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.

The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.

#Malcolm & Marie #malcolm and marie #zendaya coleman #zendaya #john david washington #liveblog #mine

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

************************

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months. Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.”

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically, and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst

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hellboundwitch · 3 years

Text

I think it's time for me to talk about Felix S. Warren

aka @da-at-ass, @badoccultadvice, @merkvahpartyvan, @felixswarren, among many other names.

A warning: this is going to be long, because A) everything I write is long, I’m really sorry about myself and 2) I knew him for years and a lot happened during that time. That being said, I'm also not going to cover every single wrong Felix ever did to me and mine, so while this is long, it's also not even close to comprehensive.

In all honesty, I should have said something sooner. Over the past year, I have kept my mouth shut because I was worried that issues about anything I said might be channeled back at my friend Rune, who was already going through enough.

However, my issues with Felix predate his relationship with Rune, much less their breakup. The truth is, I stayed quiet because I’ve been afraid of Felix for years, and when you’re that afraid of someone, your instinct isn’t to post about them all over social media, your instinct is to try and stay under their radar and avoid them at all costs.

Even now, I’m afraid. But at this point I’ve left tumblr, I feel cut off from all of our mutual friends and I know Felix’s behavior well enough to know that he will never stop obsessing over Rune, just like he never stopped obsessing over all of the other villains he’s manufactured in his mind, so I guess I really have nothing to lose by talking about what I personally went through with him and what I've seen him do to others.

If it were just his libelous statements about Rune, that would be bad enough, but it's part of a larger pattern of behavior that I think people need to be warned about before they become his next target.

When Felix and I became friends, I don't think it took very long to notice a few things.

Firstly: EVERYONE he didn't like was a narcissist. He could be very good friends with people for years but then one day when they did something he didn't like? 🎶 It was narcissists all along! 🎶 What are the odds that EVERYONE you meet and don't like is a narcissist? Not that high!

And his predisposition to diagnose everyone he dislikes with a personality disorder is problematic given that SECONDLY: Felix turns against every single person he's friends with at some point.

It was like watching a timer run down every time he interacted with someone. It didn't matter if he knew them in real life, or if he just interacted with them via Skype. Eventually, the effusive praise would give way to constant criticisms, often behind the person's back. With Felix, you could believe you were good friends up until the point where he didn't have any use for you anymore except to play the villain in his latest story. He always has to have a villain, and unfortunately the closer you get to him, the more likely it is that it's going to be you.

And at first, it didn't seem weird. The people he didn't like were I people I didn't like, so if he had something to say, maybe I did too! I did think it was kind of weird that often these were people that he seemed very friendly with in public, but like, sometimes your friends annoy you, or you don't see the need to be cruel or hostile to someone just because you may have some other issues with them. I get that.

Then the people he started talking about started becoming our mutual friends. One by one he moved through our whole friend group, ostracizing each member, and trying to plant seeds in our minds about all of the terrible things those people did to us. And at first? I agreed. Yeah, they WERE annoying. Yeah maybe they did say that stuff or do that thing.

But it didn't stop after the first person. And the reasons seemed to get thinner and thinner until it seemed like he'd just wake up that day and decide that someone was out for no reason at all. Honestly? It was terrifying.

There are so many details about this time and his behavior that I’ve tried to write out here, but just remembering all of it is so triggering that I can’t really even bring myself to talk about them now.

Some of my friends at the time can tell you how often I cried on the phone to them, how worried I was that I would be next.

There stopped being any rhyme or reason that I could see as to who Felix would turn against, and at the time I didn't feel like I could handle it if it were me. Knowing that what was left of the friends Felix had been allowing me to keep would be in a group chat all agreeing that I did whatever horrible thing he decided to accuse me of, whether it really happened or not, was too much for me.

Looking back, I wonder how many of them were scared too, how many of them were agreeing because they didn't want to be next either. At the time, he had me so in thrall that I didn't even think of that. I just felt like I had to do whatever I could to please him and keep him happy with me, or he might decide to ruin my life for fun.

I've personally apologized to at least one of the people involved in that. I'm sorry I didn't stick up for you. I'm sorry that I tried to hide or downplay our continued friendship. I was so worried he would see me as a threat that I didn't act like a good friend and speak out. And I would like to extend that apology to all of our other friends as well because I'm pretty sure by this point I owe it to every single one of you, whether you know it or not.

I’m sure that anyone who thought that I might say something about Felix were expecting most of it to be about Rune. But the truth is that I’ve had issues with Felix since before he and Rune were ever speaking, much less dating.

It’s not that I don’t have any opinions about his treatment of Rune. I mean, his desperation for Rune to be fully under his control (a pattern I had seen him play out with our friends before, attempting to ruin the lives of anyone who got close to the object of his fixation and took away attention that he wanted for himself), and his anger when he couldn’t force Rune to isolate himself from his family and become dependent upon him, not to mention how his narratives about Rune are so obviously inconsistent that the lies within them speak for themselves.

The fact that he would call the cops on a home full of very marginalized people and EVER think that’s a good thing to do, even if he really did believe Rune was being abused? by the way NEVER CALL THE COPS in a domestic abuse situation, like EVER?? Never ever!! You can and WILL get people hurt! Remember kids, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS and actual abusers will lash out at their victims if you do this!)

It’s my honest opinion at this point that getting close to Felix is dangerous. He’s not a person that you can trust and he’s not someone that it is safe to be around. He will lash out with magic, he will lash out with social manipulation, he will outright lie if it helps paint him as the victim and you as his monster of the week.

If you’re lucky, he’ll stop eventually -- once he has someone else to play these games with and maybe if you disappear completely. And even then, he’s still going to be checking your blog, obsessively googling your name, stalking your friends trying to find you, trying to “check up” on you, trying to keep feeding this twisted thing inside of him.

I have never made a “tumblr callout post”, even though there have been plenty of people who deserved it. And this is maybe this is the one I’ve been most afraid of doing, even now, even though I won’t be around for the fallout of it.

All of my other posts on this blog are gone now and when I publish this, I’ll be logging out of this account and I don’t plan to come back. I kind of hate that it has to be like this, but I don’t see any other way I can feel safe talking about this stuff, and I just can’t be silent any longer.

#pagan #witchcraft #witchblr #witches of tumblr #felix warren

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sl-walker · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on The Unwilling Apprentice

Okay, so the resplendent @xiamei-sami -- bringer of excellent gifs -- brought forth another treasure, which is ostensibly ‘new’ backstory for Maul. You can find it linked in this post here. I read it myself a couple weeks ago and have thought about it and, of course, developed opinions about it, but thanks to the whole work thing, haven’t been able to put those down yet.

So, spoilers ahead! Beware! If those bug you, anyway.

Okay, so. There are a few things I liked about it and then some that I was scratching my head about, and then there were some that were just stupid and the author should be ashamed of accepting money for. But since I’m in a reasonably charitable mood, I’ll start with what I liked.

1.) Maul was not born evil. And, in fact, was portrayed here as a perfectly darling kid who did chores and liked hanging around in nature like the actual Disney princess he is. For people who prefer canon over Legends -- though, this story’s relationship with canon is tenuous at best -- it’s nice to have something to point to and go, “Hey, he wasn’t actually inherently evil!” I mean, Legends proved that with Wrath, but now we have two sources for it.

2.) He was shown as being very much in tune with the Living Force. Frankly, the reason I liked this was because I wrote that years ago, dude, and I did it better than you lol, but still, it’s nice when something quasi-canonish does the same thing years after you and with less skill. XD It just is.

Anyway, those were really the only things I actually liked liked.

Now onto the headscratchers:

Where the fuck is canon? For real. Suddenly, we have Nightbrothers living with Nightsisters and there’s no mention whatsoever of their marginalization which is ??? It sort of loosely follows Son of Dathomir, in terms of Talzin being Mother of the Year by kicking her son out and ignoring him being abused by other people, because supposedly Sids offered to make her his apprentice and ??? Profit!

Like, I do seriously LOL anytime anyone tries to portray Talzin as some kind of decent person. I mean, we did watch her feeling Savage up and being complicit in making him murder her other son, and then there’s the fuckery she pulled on Maul, too, and yet somehow there are still people out there who act like she was a great mother. Boy, have I got a bridge for you!

But anyway. This had, at its very best, a very fucking cursory relationship to current recognizable canon. Maul had a brother in this story, but then all those years later just forgot?? What??

So, have that headscratcher. Now, let’s go into why the author should feel bad about accepting money for this:

1.) The canon thing. The lack of canon connection. Completely ignoring that the Nightbrothers are actual canon slaves holy shit. How do you ignore that? Like, how do you not acknowledge that?? Even current Disney canon does! Admittedly, I do believe this story is meant for school kids, but like-- my dude. So was TCW, and they’re the ones who explicitly stated it. There are ways to make this canon without ignoring swathes of it for supposedly school-age readers.

2.) The motivation for Maul ‘going dark’ makes-- exactly no fucking sense. It’s basically just a literal adoptive-parent abuse story, which is lazy as fuck, btw. He basically gets beat up a lot. There is not, as there is in Legends, a very notable and concerted effort to twist his perceptions and manipulate him. His mom kicks him out (Mother of the Year!), he gets beat up by the adopting family, he learns how to use the Force and fights back.

One of the reasons this annoys me is that it’s lacking all of the clever work Ryder Windham did in Wrath to not only portray Maul as an inherently sweet kid trapped in truly horrific circumstances, but draw an absolutely credible mental roadmap of how you would take that inherently sweet kid and twist him into a Sith assassin. And in case anyone’s wondering? Wrath of Darth Maul was meant to be a YA book.

Like, I hate to tell this guy this, but most people who are abused do not, in fact, turn into villains. Most people also don’t turn into abusers themselves. So without the manipulation that Ryder depicts, and that Luceno and the others touch on, it just seems kind of like-- he needed an excuse and went with the cheapest, laziest version of Disney he could.

But this brings me to the next point, which is the most egregious point for me:

3.) The author puts the responsibility for Maul being taken and abused by Sidious on Maul himself.

If there was one thing that made Legends absolutely spectacular, re: Maul, it was that never once did Ryder Windham imply, even a little bit, that little Maul had ever asked for or deserved what happened to him at Sid’s hands. At no point did any of the authors who handled Maul pre-Disney imply that he would choose what was done to him if he’d ever actually been given a choice. And to me -- and to a lot of other abuse survivors -- this kind of thing is a Big Deal. It’s a really damned important distinction to make.

But no, in this story, Maul actually chooses to be Sidious’s apprentice.

W. T. F., dude. What the actual fuck, dude.

I guess I should write this out for anyone who might not know it, but taking a character who in canon was stated to have no choice in it and suddenly giving them responsibility for their own victimization is highly fucked up.

Anyway, that there is some lousy writing. Just sayin’.

So, there is my opinion and thoughts. There are some things I liked, there are some things that were just confusing and then there was shit like the immediate above that means the author should be slapped around a parking lot a few times. I probably would not kick if people did adopt it as their canon backstory, because it’s still better than the crazy shit people currently assume, like that Maul was somehow born dark.

But please, for the love of god, I am not even kidding about this: If you really want to understand and write a genuinely interesting, nuanced version of Maul, and have a pretty damned cohesive, tragic and psychologically more realistic backstory to build on, stick to his Legends materials. Those guys who did it first actually did do it best, and this latest offering is very milquetoast by comparison, when it’s not a turd wrapped in paper.

#maul #the unwilling apprentice #my opinions #let me share them #>:)

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aperrywilliams · 4 years

Text

When The World Breaks You (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader makes a mistake during a case that triggers a lot of thoughts about a series of stressful events in her recent life. Spencer Reid turns out to be one of them.

Word Count: 6538.

Warnings: Mention to stressful events in relationships. Mention to possible alcohol abuse. Unprotected sex. A lot of curses. Angst. Smut. I promise it’s an ‘optimistic’ end.

A/N: For the Secret Fic Swap. An excellent idea from @dontkissthewriter and organized by @imagining-in-the-margins.

This fic was written for @safertokiss. Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcomed!

——————–

We all make mistakes in life. It’s written somewhere. They tell you that since childhood. Everybody knows. But when you have to experience it, things are different: it seems nobody remembers and they throw it in your face every time they can. To err is human. Have they already forgotten it?

It’s true, there are situations where a mistake can be much more costly than others. In this line of work it turns out to be so. One misstep could result in the death of innocent people. In my case it was not like that... but it could have been. Hotch's face of disappointment when he looked at me could have killed me down in the same spot, after he himself shot down the unsub almost by the work and grace of the Holy Spirit. I was wrong. I tried myself to save a little girl from the hands of a psychopath using the most reckless strategy that occurred to me at the time. The girl might have died if Hotch didn’t appeared in the right moment.

It wasn't many minutes before my own teammates started to reproach my recklessness.

"How can you did that (Y/N)? You could have had that girl killed!" shouted Emily.

"You should have waited for reinforcements (Y/N). It was obvious you couldn't handle the unsub" Morgan barked.

"(Y/N), lucky you Hotch showed up at that moment..." JJ hissed.

"Your youthful impetus almost got the worst, (Y/N)..." Rossi mused.

"Tomorrow, first hour of the day, I want your report in my desk (Y/N), and we’ll talk about what happened today" was the last sentence of Hotch.

The only one who didn't say anything was Reid. Although his look of frustration was only comparable to Hotch's. Bent on continuing to torture myself, I walked over to where Spencer was, almost forcing him to speak to me.

“I still haven't heard any ‘comments’ from you about what happened in there. Everyone has already given me their opinion". I snapped with a challenging tone. It was the only thing left for me if I didn't want to cry right there. Reid looked at me but said nothing. “Ah, your punishment for me is the silence. Very original Reid, very original”. I left the place by getting into one of the SUV that would take us back to the jet.

The trip back home was silent. I self-relegated in one of the furthest seats. I looked out the window as the jet's wings touched the clouds. I could feel some compassionate glances from my teammates, but I never made eye contact with them. Nor when we get to the bullpen to collect our things. Nor when I quickly got on the elevator to avoid having to share it with anyone.

When I got to my apartment I just wanted to lie down in my bed. Before reaching my mission, all I did was take off my shoes. I fell slumped on the mattress. Only then did I allow myself to cry. In the solitude of my own place. Place not long ago I shared with another person. Person who decided my job was too demanding and didn’t want to pay the price for my absence. Person who was quickly disappointed in me despite having promised his eternal love in front a civil judge in our wedding. Person I believed loved me unconditionally. To be fair, I forgot that too. My love didn't turn out to be unconditional either.

Love is not unconditional. This is a learning for life my dear friends.

As Hotch requested, I was in his office first hour in the morning with my report from the day before. As he read it, I was standing in front of him with my hands crossed on my stomach and staring blankly at the bookshelf behind Hotch's desk.

"So you agree that it was a reckless decision..." Hotch recited.

"Yes sir. It was. Although the purpose was to save the life of an innocent…”. Hotch interrupted my speech.

“(Y/N), indeed that is the goal of this work, but there are rules too. And if you can't follow the rules, you can't do this job either. I hope you understand that” he stated.

"Yes sir…" was my reply.

“Due to the scope of this case, I cannot leave you without some sanction for your conduct. That is why you’ll be suspended for 2 weeks without payment. I need your badge and your gun”.

I was not surprised by the measure. Although I had a secret hope it would only be a reprimand from Hotch. Hopes are shit. I handed over my gun and my badge. I was about to leave the office when Hotch spoke again.

"(Y/N). I understand you have been through a lot in these months, please try to take these days to rest and clear your head” he suggested.

"Yes sir".

Why was I going to argue with him about it? Was it worth telling him that not even a one-month suspension could be enough to me for clear my head?

I went downstairs to my desk. Again without making eye contact with my co-workers. I grabbed my jacket and purse and walked out of the bullpen into the elevator. Before the doors were closed I heard my name.

"(Y/N), wait!". Reid with one of his arms stopped the door and got on the elevator. I looked at him without saying anything. "Where are you going?".

"I think you know where... and why too". I replied now looking at the elevator floor.

"How long?" He asked.

"Two weeks" I replied dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry". Reid lamented.

"Don’t be sorry. At least I still have my job. For now…”. I assured with a shrug, barely making eye contact with him.

"Do you need something?..." he offered.

“Don't worry about me Reid. I'll be fine". The elevator had reached the subway, opening its doors. I went out and gave him a little warm smile. He did the same. Then the doors closed with him inside. I started walking to the car to get back to my apartment.

It was strange being in my apartment so early. I’m usually one of those who leaves the BAU almost at dusk. At least that's what I had been doing for the last 4 months, after my divorce. Now I was sitting on my couch thinking about what to do in the next two weeks. No idea came to my head. I knew it would be a long two weeks.

The next day I started doing a deep cleaning of the place. It’s not my apartment has been neglected in these months, but there were many things from "my old life" I still had. I started going through boxes with my ex-husband's things: there were clothes, sporting goods he didn’t take with him, books. I also found photographs. The vast common of them I tore up and throwed into a trash can, however, I stopped at my wedding photos. Smiles were everywhere. Many of the photographs with both of us at the altar, others dancing. There was a photo of us with the BAU team at the party. Memories of that moment quickly came to my mind. Precisely after taking that photograph in particular.

After the photographer captured the moment, my husband gave me a sweet peck on my lips and told me he would go and talk with his family a while. I nodded, meanwhile the BAU girls surrounded me laughing next to me and hugging me for the umpteenth time, happy for me.

I could see Spencer walking away towards one of the corners of the garden. I had seen him act strange a few days ago. But particularly on my wedding day we had hardly spoken a word. Which was strange. Spencer was my best friend, my "partner in crime". That's how it had been since I came to the BAU 4 years ago. Taking advantage of the fact I had a moment of freedom, I approached him. He was sitting on one of the benches in the garden. I sat next to him smiling. He looked at me and gave me a smile too.

"Hey... why are you alone around here?" I asked taking his hand.

"I'm enjoying the fresh air and there is less noise here," he replied.

“I know you are not a friend of loud music. I understand you and I share that. I just must say today has been a roller coaster of things. I'm exhausted”. I confessed but I received no reply.

"Spencer?". He looked at me as if trying to tell me something without words. "What is it? Can you tell me...". After a silence that started to become uncomfortable, he resolved to speak.

"You really love him..." he said. I frowned. I didn't know exactly what he meant.

"Well... if I married him it must be for that, right?". I tried to joke to lighten the mood. But Spencer didn't laugh.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I think I should go…”. He got up from the bench and was going to leave me there with more questions than answers.

"Spencer, wait!... you can't leave like this. Please tell me what's wrong..." I pleaded.

Forcing Spencer to speak at that point must have been one of my biggest mistakes in a long time. How often does your best friend confess he has been in love with you for years on your wedding day?

Only in the movies. The difference is that in the movies the bride runs off with the lover, leaving the groom behind and living happily ever after. It was not my case. Spencer was the one who ran off, alone… while I stood on the bench with tears rolling down my cheeks, a confession and millions of doubts that beginning to fill my mind.

Of course I was in love with my husband. Perhaps a somewhat childish love, but we had known each other for so many years that it was difficult for me to imagine myself otherwise than being married to him, having children, a house and a dog. That was my dream since I was 16 years old.

But things change. My life also changed. I studied Forensic Psychology and fell so in love with my major that I wanted to join the FBI to put what I had learned into real practice. This is how I came to the BAU afterwards. A whole world opened before my eyes. I faced the best and the worst of the world. My innocence faded over time. I was much more aware of what was happening around me. And I was happy with that.

I fell in love with my job too. I also bonded with my co-workers. I started spending more time with Emily, JJ and Penelope both on and off work. But what changed me the most was making friends with Spencer Reid. When we met, the first thing I noticed was his shyness. It seemed adorable to me. As we got to know each other I understood many things about his character, just as he understood many things about me as well.

The jet trips, the talks at the local police stations, the theories about the unsubs were made much more bearable thanks to Spencer. At some point I asked myself if our friendship could be something more. I didn't think it was possible. But the doubts came all the times I had a strong argument with my boyfriend. Arguments that sometimes ended with me leaving the apartment we shared and crashing into Spencer's place crying on his shoulder.

I remembered one of those times. It was a strong discussion. Triggered by my prolonged absence thanks to the cases that kept us traveling all over the country. Like the previous times I ended up in Reid's apartment drowning my sorrows in his chest.

"(Y/N)… can I ask you a question?" I just nodded, still sobbing. "Are you sure you love him?... I mean… maybe I said it wrong... I don't have doubts you love him, but do you think this relationship is working for you?..."

“It has worked so far. It's true… we have our ups and downs, but… I don't know… it's just I wish he could understand what my life is really like…"

"And if he doesn't?... how many more chances will you give him (Y/N)?... don't hurt yourself more, please...".

My memory recalls the way he looked at me. At first I thought it was compassion. ‘Poor woman, in love with a man who doesn't understand her.’ But then I thought I saw something else. A plea? I didn't really know what it was.

Without thinking, I let myself be carried away and wrapped my arms around his neck, crashing my lips on his. A simple impulse that ended with me and Reid making out on his couch. And boy I did enjoy it!. And I'm sure he did too. But we were both cowardly enough to admit it.

After that things were strange between us. Until one day I faced him. I needed to know what his true feelings were. The bastard denied it. He said he only wanted me as a friend, that I deserved to be happy with my boyfriend and that ours was just a good friendship.

I let it go. We returned to our dynamic of good friends. Things seemed to take their normal course. My boyfriend proposed to me, the fights between us disappeared. Thus faded the nights when I came crying to Spencer's apartment. I was feeling happy. Excited. Until that moment in my wedding party, in the garden, when Spencer left me with his confession stabbing my chest.

I didn't want to think about that. I had given him a chance to open up earlier. And he didn’t do it. Spencer fucking Reid kept the silent. And I didn't say anything either. Maybe if I had given him a sign. But it was too late. I had to get on with my life. And that's what I did.

A year of happiness. That was how long my marriage lasted. And not because I haven't tried. I really tried. But Reid was right. Sooner or later the opportunities would no longer be enough. Promises weren't sufficient to keep alive the illusion of life as I had dreamed of as a teenager.

*************

I was worried. It had been 4 days since (Y/N) was suspended and no one had heard from her. I asked Prentiss and she only told me she texted her to know how she was doing and (Y/N) replied with a dry ‘fine’.

Besides being worried, I was upset. No one on the team had bothered to visit (Y/N). Months ago it would have been my mission, but given the circumstances maybe it wasn't a good idea. I was annoyed by the idea she was struggling alone with this situation. It was not fair. None of this was fair.

That she couldn't be happy wasn't fair. And that we couldn't be together was my fault. My silence. I lied when I could have told the truth. There is not a day I don’t regret that.

My second mistake was speaking at the wrong time. I couldn't bear it and in a moment of weakness I confessed my feelings to (Y/N). And it was selfish, I know. A chain of bad decisions I tried to bury over time.

And it seemed time was working. She was happy with her husband, or so I thought. While we tried to return to our friendship routine. Perhaps that is another of the biggest lies in the universe: ours would never be the same. Ours will never be the same again. I didn't find out things were going wrong in her marriage until it was all broken. I could notice some things about her behavior, but she was never going to tell me anything about that part of her life, ever again.

On the sixth day of her suspension, my worry began to overwhelm me. This time I wasn’t the only one who was concerned. Emily and JJ tried to contact (Y/N) but she just didn't answer the phone. Even Hotch had left messages on her voicemail to check her status. None had an answer.

I couldn't sit idly by. What if something had happened to her? Sure she wouldn't want to talk to me, but at least I needed to know she was okay. That afternoon I left the BAU heading to her apartment. Upon arrival, I knocked on the door twice. But I got no answer. Maybe she had gone out to buy something. Or maybe something had happened to her and she couldn't open the door. I hesitated what to do for a while. I paced outside her door until anxiety got the better of me. I still had the spare key to her apartment. I knew it wasn't appropriate, but my concern won. I opened the door and launched to inspect the place.

She was not in the apartment. The place was a bit messy, but it wasn't a mess itself. I found many boxes in the living room, some half packed. They didn't seem to be her things, which partly reassured me. For a second I thought she was moving somewhere else. What made me uneasy was seeing several empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. That gave me an idea of where she might be at that specific moment.

I quickly reached (Y/N)'s favorite bar scanning through the crowd until I saw her near the bar counter with a group of men surrounding her. I stepped closer and crossed the circle of testosterone that shrouded (Y/N). Seeing me, she raised up her arms to signal my arrival.

“And here is my favorite genius! Dr. Spencer Reid!" (Y/N) chimed obviously drunk. When I managed to get to her side, she threw her arms over me, almost falling from the tabouret where she was sitting next to the bar. I hold her with my arms, restoring some balance to her. As I spoke to the group of predators still looking at (Y/N).

"Well. The show ended here. You can go to the other side of the bar”. I announced to the marauders who, puffing, broke the circle around (Y/N) dispersing.

“You are a killjoy Reid. You always have been”. Despite her condition she knew exactly how to hit me with her words.

"Let's go. I'll take you home" I stated.

When we left the bar, she stopped and didn't want to keep walking.

"Reid... really, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to look for you…" I mumbled.

"You didn't have to... I'm fine, don't you see me? Won-der-ful…" she tried to joke.

"(Y/N)... you're drunk... let me take you home" I insisted.

"Noooo, I don't want to. I'm fine here. Let me…"

"Please come with me". I demanded and grabbed her forearm.

"I don't want to be hurt any more Spencer... leave me alone" she complained.

"I know. But let me help you…"

"You cannot. Nobody can help me. Everyone abandons me and it's my fault...". (Y/N) tried to left my grip.

"Don’t say that. It's not your fault". I hugged her and she stopped struggling but started sobbing into my chest.

We held each other for a moment. The sobs gave way to hiccups. When (Y/N) was calmer, I managed to get her into the car. I drove to her apartment. When I stopped the car, I noticed she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the car window. Carefully, I opened the passenger door and took her in my arms, bridal style. She only let out a groan, but not fully awake. I went upstairs with her to the floor of her apartment, took out the key, opened the door and we went inside.

As gently as I could, I laid her on the bed. I took off her shoes and tucked her with the duvet. Again I heard her sobs.

"Why did it have to be like this?..." she muttered. I didn't know what to answer her.

"It's my fault. I end up ruining everything. I always make mistakes that end up ruining everything…” she cried. I knew it wasn't a good time to talk, but (Y/N) needed to be able to at least sleep in peace.

"No, don’t say that. You better sleep now. Tomorrow we can talk about this".

"You will stay with me?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Only if you want me to stay..."

"Please…" she begged.

I took off my shoes and cuddled next to her under the duvet. I wrapped my arms around her body and after a few minutes I felt her breathing much quieter, a sign that she had fallen asleep.

When I woke up next morning, (Y/N) was still sleeping. I knew she would be in that condition for at least a couple of hours, when the light in the room will wake up her and make her feel the hangover in her body. I gently got up and went to the living room. I wondered if it was really wise to stay until she woke up or maybe I should just leave her and go home. I wanted to be able to talk to her, but I wasn't sure if it would be the best time. I laughed at myself after that thought. Is there a better time for us at anything? That didn't exist in our books.

I made myself a coffee and grabbed some of the books from her shelf. I struggled with the urge to explore the things that were inside the boxes scattered around the room. I sat down on the couch and started reading.

A few hours later I heard (Y/N) walking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, turning on the shower faucets. I got up from the couch and started making coffee again. She was going to need it. I also started making some toast. After a while she came out of the bathroom straight into the bedroom again. A few more minutes passed and she peeked into the kitchen where I was finishing buttering the toast.

"You didn't need to make breakfast..." she remarked, making her presence known. I raised my head to look at her.

"At least you need the coffee..." I suggested as I handed her the mug of coffee.

"It’s true. Thank you". She sat down and after a sip put the coffee on the table.

"How do you feel?"

"The shower helped... but the hangover won't leave me for a good couple of hours," she complained. I put the plate of toast on the table and sat across from her with my own coffee. We fell silent as we drank our coffee and ate our toasts.

When there was no more coffee or toast left, (Y/N) started talking.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night." She mused.

"You don’t have to apologize…". I shook my head.

"Yes. I need to. Although I don't know how you knew I was there, you brought me back safely. Thank you". Her eyes felt into the empty mug.

“It was not a bother to me. I was worried about you (Y/N). In fact, I'm worried about you,” I confessed, looking again at the empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. She followed my line of sight and knew exactly what I meant.

“I'm fine Reid… so don't worry. I have accumulated them in all these days. It's not so big deal either" she bragged.

“I don't think you're okay (Y/N). You've avoided calls and messages from the whole team these days…". I stated.

“I just wanted to be peaceful, Reid. As you can see, I’m trying to 'clean up' my life,” (Y/N) assured as she pointed to the boxes scattered around the room.

"You don't have to do that alone..." I implied trying to get into the matter.

"Reid, please… don’t do this. You know I can't let you do this…” she mumbled.

"Why not? Please (Y/N)... why do you want to keep pushing people away from you?".

“Not all people. Only you". Her overabundance of sincerity didn’t surprise me, but at that moment it left me speechless. "Sorry to say it like that, but you can't pretend things are the way they were at the beginning." She was right, but I wasn't ready to lose this fight.

"Will you never forgive me for telling you about my feelings that night at your wedding?" I shouted running one of my hands through my hair.

"Not that. I’ll never forgive you for keeping silent when I asked you what you felt before!" she yelled at me back.

"(Y/N)... I was scared...". I tried to explain.

“I was scared too Reid!... but I had hopes. The hopes you killed at that time," she grumbled taking her head with both hands.

"Do you think it was easy for me?"

"I don’t care. If you had told me maybe I would have cared. I'm not a fucking fortune teller Reid!" She got up from her chair and began pacing the room. We were getting back into this discussion, again.

"I just… I never thought you would do it..." I said defeated.

"What? Get married?... why shouldn't I?". She asked in exasperation.

"Because you didn't love him!!!" I screamed.

"How do you know that? Damn it Reid!"

"Because if you really loved him, you would never have come to my apartment every time you both had an argument! That was never love (Y/N)! It was your dream, but it was never real!"

"What do you know about love?, ah?... are you really going to give me a lecture on something you have no idea? You weren't even able to face me when you made your big reveal. That's not love either Reid"

"Watch your words (Y/N), you have no idea what you're talking about" I warned her.

"Oh no? Enlighten me genius"

I got up quickly from the chair. I took one of her wrists and pulled it towards me. I cupped her cheeks with both hands and bumped my lips to hers. (Y/N) tried to pull away from me for a second, but then she melted into the kiss just like I did at the time. If words weren't enough, I hoped that kiss could help me ‘tell’ her everything I was feeling. When we both run out of air, we pulled away.

“If you didn't always have the compulsion of saying the last word, maybe I would have shown you earlier. But no! Always contradicting (Y/N)! " I muttered panting.

“What the fuck Reid?. Do you think a kiss is enough to silence me?". She pulled away trying to catch her breath and not knowing whether to keep yelling at me or to leave the room.

"No, not with a kiss. I know. Of course it is not enough with you (Y/N). I think I’m just starting with you".

“Where does this dominance come from? Eh Reid? What are you trying to prove?" she asked me defiantly.

"Just shut up (Y/N)... and stop calling me Reid". I protested. How difficult is for this woman to give up in a fight, for God sake!

"Make me... Reid". She challenged me back.

The tension built up over the years seemed to have exploded at that moment. I took her wrists again to attract her to my body, with one of my hands I took her hair and yanked it back to make her look at me.

"Stop it (Y/N). You don't want me to make you" I managed to mutter before collapsing my lips with hers again. This time the kiss was more passionate and extensive. I couldn't keep my hands still, while with one I was still yanking (Y/N)’s hair, the other started to down her back by entangling my fingers in the edge of her shirt. As I put my fingers under the shirt to touch her bare back, I felt a moan from (Y/N). That encouraged me to continue. Releasing my other hand from her hair, I grabbed the other end of her shirt, pulling it, take it off her body and throwing it to the floor. My lips began to search for the sweet spot on her neck that I knew existed and always wanted to explore. When I found it, another groan came from (Y/N)'s mouth. Those moans quickly turned me on. With my hands traveling down her nearly bare back, I paused on the clasp of her bra, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the floor. An exciting sigh left my mouth when I could see her naked half.

(Y/N) looked at me expectantly. Her eyes inviting me to continue, but I started to worry that no words come out of her mouth.

"Is something wrong?... do you want me to stop?"

"What are we doing Spencer...?" she said panting.

“What I think we should have done so long ago. And because of me we couldn't. But if you don't want to, I'll stop”. I assured her as I stroked her cheeks with my knuckles.

"Shit Spencer... I don't want to die without you fucking me once in life at least...". With that she threw herself into my arms and started to unbutton my dress shirt.

"God (Y/N)... you don’t how much I want you." I whispered to her as I dropped my dress shirt to the floor and my hands searched for her bare breasts. My lips and tongue tracing paths on her collarbone. Her arms were around my neck gripping tightly.

“Show me, you fucking coward! Prove you mean it!” she told.

“This time you don’t have to tell me twice…”.

I took her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the mattress, while I undid the clasp on my belt and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She slipped her sweatpants, exposing her body only in her lace. I laid down next to her, tracing eager paths in her bare skin with my fingers.

"You are so fucking beautiful (Y/N)... you drive me crazy...". I blurted, peppering kisses and sucking one of her nipples. (Y/N) stroked my hair as I keep my mouth attached into her breasts. My hands went down her waist and stopped in her thighs for a while. Then my fingers traveled anxiously across her belly, her hips, and her ass. I looked at her with fire in the eyes and could see how (Y/N) was breathing heavily holding her eyes on me as I slide her panties off, one leg at a time. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and buried my mouth between her legs, nibbling on the skin while I was holding her hip with both hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but arch her back, letting out a deep whine.

"Oh fuck Spencer... shit… please…" she moan not expecting to be coherent in her words. I was decided to go further, so my hands started to slide into her inner thighs. I wanted to explore the depths of her core. Not so gently I put one of my fingers inside her. The moisture I found did nothing but arouse me more. The contact sure caused more stimulation on her and she started to move and buck to feel more depth and friction.

"Please... Spencer... if we are going to do this, I need more...". Her words made me put a second finger. She shuddered on contact again. I couldn't help but bite my lower lip as I looked (Y/N)'s eyes stiff at the sensation running through her body. At the movement of my fingers inside her, (Y/N) was unable to control her own, seeking to deepen the feeling by riding hard on them. I lowering my tongue until reached her folds. I slipped my tongue to catch some of her moisture mixed with my own saliva. A stifled moan from me made (Y/N) tremble at the vibration of my voice running through her body. I put a third finger inside her while my tongue focused on her clit, licking and sucking the exposed nerve.

(Y/N) let out almost a cry bursting with pleasure. I speed up the actions of my fingers and my tongue and I could feel (Y/N) shiver under my touch. I heard her moaning louder as she held on to my hair. I knew she was close to her release because her body trembled at every thrusting of my fingers and slapping of my tongue.

"Oh fuck... I can't... Spencer... please... don't stop... I'm going to cum..." she said frenzy as her nails scratched my shoulders.

"Do it love, cum in my fingers... do it... let me feel how you undone beneath me…" I gasped trying to help her to find her release, while the thrusts of my fingers became more frantic than ever.

"Fuck... Spencer... uhhh, shit!" It was the last she could say before falling hard at her ecstasy. She was trembling completely with her eyes lost on the ceiling. When the spasms stopped, I pulled my fingers out, tasting her arousal in my mouth and looking at her. Her messy hair, the sweat running down her forehead and her eyes full of pleasure. It couldn't have been more pleasing for me.

“I think you need a reward for this so… come here. I need you to fuck me with your cock right now… please…”. (Y/N) demanded still panting.

I just chuckled meanwhile I slipped off my boxers and then placed my hips between her legs lining up my cock at her entrance. My slow entry produced a unison groan in both of us.

"Oh fuck (Y/N)... you're so tight for me..." was the only thing I said before (Y/N) raised her hips without warning to feel me fully in her. A roar tore from my mouth as I grabbed her hips to start moving inside her. The thrusts started slow but intense, accompanied by gasps and sweat. I increased the speed of my thrusts in the next minutes. The desire to feel each other had reached a point of no return for both. The moans mingled with the vocalization of our names only increased arousal in us. I could feel her walls tighten with friction and it drove me madder and louder. She was very close to losing herself in ecstasy. Her body began to tremble, which made me hasten my pace. I put one of my fingers over her clit and traced circular movements on it. The (Y/N)’s moans increased in time and noise.

"Fuck Spencer... Oh yeah, right there. More please… Spencer, harder…”. She exclaimed in ecstasy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good with my cock inside you. Do you like it?, tell me… I want to hear you… use your words…”. I needed to hear her voice.

"Harder Spencer. You are fucking me so good. Please don't stop… I love you. I wanted this so badly… so time ago…”

“This time I'm not going to let you go. Tell me, did he touch you like this?... He kissed you like this?... He fucked you like this?"

"Shit… Spencer, it’s not the time to compare yourself to my ex…" (Y/N) moaned.

“I just want you to realize that I’m better than him. That I have more right to have you than he and any other man. That I’m the only man who could love you like you deserves (Y/N)…"

With those words I could feel how the orgasm hit (Y/N) like a train. She screamed my name one last time before getting lost in her heights. I kept my thrusts knowing I was close. Feeling her walls tighten around my cock was enough for a couple more thrusts and reach my own release. And it was better than I had imagined every time I thought about (Y/N) and what sex with her would be like. God! I could stay like this forever.

Even with our shaky breaths and still inside her I looked (Y/N) directly in the eyes. I needed to know her reaction. I just hoped I didn't find regret in her gaze. That would have been death for me.

She looked at me with a glint in her eyes that I couldn't decipher. Tears? I was terrified. I didn't want to lose (Y/N) again.

"Shit Spencer... where did you learn to fuck like that?" she blurt suddenly. We both started laughing. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I only answered with a deep kiss on her lips as I got out of bed in the direction to the bathroom.

I came back with a damp towel to clean up the remains of our recent activities. (Y/N) didn't take her eyes off me but she didn't say a word either. I put the towel on the nightstand and sat on the bed with my back on the backrest.

"Okay, what are you thinking now?" I asked. (Y/N) smiled because she knew exactly that I was going to ask her that question.

“It's just… I find it hard to believe that you really love me. I mean, so much has happened in this time… don't you even have a little doubt going around in your head about this?" she questioned giving me a shy look.

"Not anymore. I had doubts for so long (Y/N), that's why I wasn't able to do anything about it. But I can assure you that there are no more doubts. I love you and I know you love me too. Nonetheless I'm willing to wait for whatever it takes until you're ready. But I’ll never be silent about my feelings for you again. That I can assure you. I promise”. I replied taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm still broken Spencer...". She remind me pressing her lips together and trying to hold back a sob

“(Y/N). I know and I take full responsibility for that too. But now I don´t care all our past mistakes. I don’t care the past itself. I don’t care if you’re broken now. I want to fix this. I want you. I want to make up to you. I want to make you happy. No matter how long it takes me to accomplish that. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll hold you when you need it, I want to be there when the world breaks you. I’ll fight and support you every time that happens…"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N) hugged me tight and buried her head on my chest. Then she raised her gaze to look at me and speak.

"Love is not unconditional Spencer... you know that…" she murmured.

"Not by default my love, but we can build it to make it work for us.". She smiled at my words and after giving me an intense kiss she spoke again.

“I hope you’re right. I know we can try to make it work. I love you Spencer”.

“I love you too (Y/N). We are going to make it. I promise".

———————

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds

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ohnobjyx · 4 years

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Would it be that impossible for dd and gg to come out as a couple (provided they respected censorship and didn't talk about it with the media)? I read the other day that homosexuality is not illegal in China, just talking about it and showing in the media, so could not someone as brave and crazy as dd attempt to come out outside of the media? after all they are the first 3 shipped real couples in china, they do have support. Coming out willingly would also save them from being eventually outed..

Hi, anon! (*this blogger cracks her neck and gets ready*) Let’s get into it!

Disclaimer: fake fake fake. Why would you think that we believe in bjyx?

Preface: this post might not be exactly a controversial opinion, since I think many will have the same one. However, it’s alright to disagree: we all have our own perception of the matter, which is coloured by our own experiences (let’s just say that an absolute objective view is difficult). I present here with the most objective post (at least in terms of data and facts) I could write.

Oh, and you all might have noticed, but being concise is not my forte. I tend to digress.

First of all, I assume that the concept of “coming out outside of the media” means that they could have told just close friends and family, without announcing it to the media.

But how would we know that they have done it? (and I don’t mean we should know for sure, ofc). For all we know, they may have already done this, and, from my pov, they probably have. Without entering in “fake” rumours:

TTXS bros know something (repeating myself for the nth time). From the way DZW jumps in whenever it remotely looks like dd is slipping up, how WH poses his questions, how QF teases him. It all seems references to a real, tangible thing, instead of baseless friendly teasing. It’s also very interesting that they have stopped their matchmaking mission and have instead started to defend why dd is “single”.

Their parents are their cover. Even if dd parents didn’t watch TTXS, wouldn’t someone else watch it and ask them about it? Wouldn’t they wonder about the supposed clothes that dd sends home, the medicine, the market stroll? Maybe I’m just projecting, but I wouldn’t use my parents as a shield if they weren’t aware of the situation behind it, because I’d be subjected to their questioning later. That’s why, unless I wanted to tell them or I had already told them, I wouldn’t use my parents as an excuse. So, once is alright, but dd has done it several times, and that, for me, means that his parents know.

That’s what I would consider “coming outside the media”. Of course, this doesn’t involve us fans, and it’s their decision, of which we probably will never hear about (or, at least, not soon, and that’s fine!).

In my opinion, it’s also the best course of action, especially with all the rumours that are always circulating about them. It wouldn’t be a “brave and crazy” course of action, but rather the most sensible and rational, since it’s the best way to avoid misunderstandings with your friends and family. It’s also considerate for his friends at work, just so they know what to expect when they are on stage and it allows them to understand dd’s reactions.

(Again, we are talking about dd because that’s who anon asked about. I think gg’s circle is less close to him, so it may not be the case with him, but I don’t know enough to say what would happen).

Just let’s suppose his TTXS bros didn’t know anything and just kept trying to act as matchmakers for dd. That’s the kind of situation that’s bound to be uncomfortable for everyone because dd isn’t the kind of person who’d lie (and he doesn’t fast enough to improptu questions).

The second thing I wanted to talk about is their fans’ support. I want to talk about numbers.

I’m going to explain why I only take the c-fans data as reference. We int fans don’t really count, because we don’t affect their careers directly, as c-fans do. Of course, our support is very useful in showing how many people are rooting for them, like what happened when Roseonly’s livestream with gg was live. And I like to think that they would feel better knowing that there are a lot of people in Chn and overseas that support them and whatever there is between them.

So int-fans do contribute to give more views and likes to their Roseonly livestream (if they can access it, which isn’t always the case), but they won’t buy the roses and impact with real money, so to say.

We don’t really participate in their endorsements, many won’t stay long enough to watch more dramas from them (and I do understand that the lack of eng subs is the main problem), and many don’t/can’t/don’t know how to push them up in the charts. We’ve talked before about how the c-ent industry doesn’t really need the int audience to make a lot of money, and to be highly profitable, and it still applies in a smaller case, like a single idol.

That’s why I think that in matters of real, tangible fan support, c-fans still make a bigger percentage (around 80-90%) of their support.

So, as of now, there are 3 supertopics in w/ibo that features gg/dd (let’s leave the difference in supertopics for another day, but I don’t support the discussion about people’s sex life, thanks for your understanding):

BJYX. The largest supertopic (top 1) with a wide margin from the others. It has 2.570.000 fans.

ZSWW. It’s the number 5 in the CP supertopics, with 910.000 fans.

LXFY. The number 23 in the CP supertopics with 590.000 fans.

All of them added make 4.070.000 fans. But we have to take into account the overlapping in these three supertopics: many people (like me) are following the three supertopics at the same time. That’s why, in a not scientific way, I’m guessing that those 4.070.000 come to around 4.000.000 once you take out the people that are following the three at the same time.

Even 4 million people is still a huge number of people: that’s more people than the population of the capital of my country, and one tenth of the total census here.

Yet, in China, it means 4 out of every 1400, which translates into 0′003%. It’s also from a very specific demographic (mainly female and young). Of course, it doesn’t mean that they won’t get support from other people if it ever got out, but they can’t know what would happen then for sure.

It means that, in actual 3D world, there are a lot of people who don’t know about their CP. I read the other day some tumblr blogger saying that “we bxg are in our own little bubble, not that many people know about their cp” (was that you, @jcisthebestfightme?) which I agree a lot with. I mean, my w/ibo account and tumblr is filled with bjyx/yizhan, so much that it’s easy to forget that I arranged it to be like this, but that the majority of the people don’t receive so much info about them, nor they analyze their every move like we do.

The only thing they can know for sure is what general population thinks about same sex relationships.

In a recent poll I saw, with thousands of answers about what netizens thought of the legalization of same sex marriage in Taiwan, the supporting votes didn’t get to 50%. In Taiwan, public opinion was like this around the time same sex marriage was legalized:

An opinion poll conducted in November 2016 by the Kuomintang found that 52% of the Taiwanese population supported same-sex marriage, while 43% were opposed. Another poll commissioned that same month found similar numbers: 55% in support, and 45% in opposition. Support was higher among 20–29-year-olds (80%), but decreased significantly with age. (Wikipedia)

(I just want to say, I can’t wait for the younger generations to take over).

More data: the public stance in China could be described as: “no approval, no disapproval, no promotion”, and the public opinion is becoming more and more tolerant, but there’s still a deep-set homophobia, as in only 5% of the lgbt people comes out completely (around 20% comes out to their family), and around 80% of gay men are married to women due to social and family pressure (ofc, these data is from a few years ago, and new polls and surveys are needed, but don’t expect them to carry out a wide-range survey about this nor I think the situation has changed drastically).

In my opinion, society is slowly taking more steps towards tolerance first and acceptance second. One of their best achievement was the lgbt community and many netizens’ refusal to allow w/ibo to instate a ban on content related to homosexuality, which led to w/ibo actually reversing its decision and stop banning that content in less than 3 days.

However, the fact that a lot of people express their support doesn’t take away the truth of a lot of people openly opposing it (let’s remember that there weren’t so many antis to start with in 2/27, but its effects were undeniably large and unjust).

(If any of you read more data about lgbt rights in China, please remember that Hong Kong receives a lot more Western influence, and that public opinion in HK does not represent the actual situation in mainland Chn. Ofc, because they’re more open to lgbt, there are also more data and polls carried out in HK, so a lot of info is HK based).

Leaving this kind of data aside, let’s take another matter of numbers. While they have in total 4 million fans in the supertopics, dd has as of now 35,400,000 fans following him on w/ibo and gg has 26,690,000 fans.

One thing I’m sure they are aware of is the discussion that arises from time to time between the solo fans and the bxg. Another thing they must be aware of, specially dd, is that their fanbase has a lot of females who are their fans, not just because of their talent, but also because they’re single and therefore they can fantasize about being with them.

All in all, even though a lot of people support them, there would be also quite a number of “disappointed” people, with the danger of them becoming antis.

So while I do think they appreciate it, and leave clues specifically for us, and dd goes as far as interacting with bxg, I also feel that gg and dd might not see widespread support, enough so they’d feel comfortable coming out completely with the current public stance on homosexual relationships in Chn.

(And again, from my pov, they aren’t in the closet with their family and friends).

And last, but not least, does “coming out respecting the censorship and not talking about it with the media” mean that it would be known by the general public, or, at least, their fans (in a very hypothetic case, since I don’t know how this could be achieved)? Because then, even if they didn’t talk about it with the media, it would be as good as coming out publicly.

In an idol’s life there’s no “private” and “public”. There’s only “public” and “secret” (and by secret I mean things they “hide” in public/don’t talk about, even though people next to them might know about it). The line between public and private is very very blurred in the c-ent industry.

I always remember the case of an actor who had an affair. Because of his affair (he was married and had a son), he lost endorsements, he was taken out of tv programs and literally erased from filmed episodes. The things he did in private affected very directly his job (I don’t approve of the affair, but the consequences it had surprised me a lot).

So, while I do think that gg and dd are getting bolder with time, when they were both very startled by the “you’d lose your job if you were in a relationship” phrase, the fear was real and palpable. However, I’m aware that that was their stance a year ago, and that a lot of things have changed (heck, we’ve gone through a pandemic, something I couldn’t have imagined a year ago), so I’m going to observe how they act from now.

That’s why, “coming out willingly would also save them from being eventually outed..” is true, but it’s also true that it would push them into a storm I’m not sure they’d come out completely unscathed. And it may be selfish, but I don’t want them to be the ones who test the public’s tolerance to gay idols.

I think I’m missing my point, so I’ll spell it out: if they want to come out, I’ll support them with everything I have, as I think many fans will do. If they ever prove us wrong dating another person, be it male or female, I’ll support them as a fan too. But I would like any action they take to be decided by them, instead of pressed by fans who just want a confirmation at any cost.

I’ve seen people saying that if they were really together, they should be “honest” with themselves and the audience and come out publicly. In my opinion, it’s easy to judge when you’re not the one who might lose something if you take a step in the wrong direction, and it’s not your income and your job in the line.

I’m sure (reminding you all that I believe that bjyxszd) that they’d come out completely if possible. I’m also sure that they have consulted with managers and public relations experts (and their team would have talked with them about it even if gg and dd didn’t bring it up). Therefore, I strongly believe they are doing what they think is better at the time being.

To sum up: I’ll support whatever they do, but I don’t want others to push them to do things they don’t want/aren’t prepared to do. They are already between a rock and a hard place, so whatever they do with their relationship is absolutely their call.

So, anon, I hope I have answered you, but I leave here a short summary for you in the case the info was too scattered for you:

They might have come out to friends and family, and, based on dd’s interactions with the people around him and the words he has said, I do believe he has. Because gg is also an honest, sensible person, I think he might have done the same.

after all they are the first 3 shipped real couples in china, they do have support

Chn is a big country. That means that in terms of public support, sometimes numbers that would be astronomically high in other countries, is not so much in Chn. Translating numbers into percentage, a 1% means 14 million people.

So it’s true that they have a lot of people supporting them, of course. 2 million people is a lot of people, especially considering that many don’t know about them. But when you have to take into account the general public (because it’d be a scandal), since their fans aren’t the only ones interacting with them, it’s still a low number.

Coming out willingly would also save them from being eventually outed..

That’s true in the case of family and friends. But if you’re talking about being outed in the media, that’s not possible. Known by the fans = Public.

And remember that in this case, the media wouldn’t talk about them, since talking about homosexuality in the media is prohibited. The problem would come from within the industry and the antis.

#yizhan #bjyx #ask #my post #coming out

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

New X-Men Xtrospective Part 3: Imperial (NXM #121-126)

To me all you happy people! And welcome back to my X-Citing look at Morrison’s Masterwork on Marvel’s Merry Mutants! Part One is HERE, Part Two is HERE if you feel like it.

If not... to catch you up on last time....

All Caught up? Good. Join me under the cut as our heroes head into this old woman’s hedd to see what’s wrong and fight off an alien army while horribly ill.

Silent, Psychic Rescue in Process:

So we pick up not long after we left off: Thanks to Beast waking up from his bat induced coma, the X-Men now know Charles is trapped in Cassandra’s body and she pulled a Freaky Friday on him, with marginally less bullets.

And thus we get this issue. This one was part of Nuff Said, an incredibly clever theme month by Marvel and one I wish they’d try and do again at some point in some form.

The gimmick was simple but amazing: Every issue would be mostly silent, with at most some dialouge at the start and finish to bookend it. So far i’ve only read two issues of this, this one and the X-Statix one, but it is a genuinely great idea. I do think forcing it on the entire line was a bit much, but as I said I do wish they’d do this again just make it optional: have some books opt in or do some annuals with the theme. It’s just a fun break from the usual and with this issue resulted in one of the best single issues of x-men period.

Naturally given the name, which is cleverly displayed on a sign the x-men have because of course they do, it’s exaclty that: Emma and Jean after readying themselves (Jean kisses Scott goodbye and Emma downs a bottle of jack because why not do an alchol before doing delecate mental surgery), head in.

Inside they find horrific old lady head doors, stone ol dlady heads around a tower that shoot lasers, and said doors also bite and puke weird goop because it’s Grant Morrison. This is his chance to just go full balls out weird.. and given last time involved skin flake golemns.. and this isn’t even the weirdest he’s done. As mentioned last time he once had a supervillian run for president using a super LSD Bike that made everyone high.

And just to prove he can reach that level of weirndess we find charles alone, naked and with an overenlarged brain.. before he transitions Jean to a field of sperm.

Yeah... but this DOES have a point.. as it turns out it’s a meaphorical transition into his gestation as a baby.. and how he had a twin. Yeah turns out Cassandra was not lying he did try to kill her.. but as you can probably tell by the fact she’s a genocidal sociopath, she lied by omission to screw with Hank: In the womb she tried strangling Charles to death with his own umbilical cord..only for him to use baby’s first psonic blast to send her reeling and his mom tumbling down the stairs and well.. you can probably guess the rest. Yeah.. Cassandra’s entire origin story is concentrated

And I love it. The sheer audacity is nice and everything but what makes it really work for me is the simple concept: An evil version of charles, one almost born at the same time whose every bit as evil as he is good.. granted there’s a TON of Morally Grey in Charles Xavier ESPECIALLY post decimation and even more so now with Krakoa. But he’s sitll at his heart a well meaning person, while Cassandra at her heart is a racist genocidal nightmare. She is pure evil, with enough personality to not make her boring.. and more importanlty all the power charles has but NONE of his restraint. Part of what makes Charles noble is he only uses his powers when necessary. Cassandra.. has no such restraint and will happily mentally snap necks all day.

So with this our heroine’s leave and we end on the iconic line “Professor Xavier killed his twin sister in the womb. We Really ought to talk.

This issue is an utter classic. It finally explains Cassandra a bit while still leaving a ton of questions, Frank Quitely is at his best here, and he and morrison are incrediby good at non verbal storyteling. The result is surreal, unsettling and awesome. Check it out. Seriously seek this one out it’s worth the trip. It’s so famous it was homaged with a spirtual sequel in the recent Giant Size X-Men one shots. It’s excellent stuff

Imperial:

So with our first issue we open with things going terrible on that flag ship Cassandra took off on with Lilandra, empress of the Shiar and Xavier’s space wife. She’s revealed herself, is ravaging the ship and mind rapes a the helmsman into crashing it, so with no other options Lilandra sends Smasher, not the one from the avengers run earlier version, to earth to send a warning to the X-Men.

At the School things are actually going well for a second. In an intresting move the school is changing things up with no officla timetable.. which I think means there’s no rigid class schedule and you can just do them as you please or as necessary for your power. The plan’s the same, they just want to learn from each other in building mutant society and the future. It’s ideas like this that are the bedrock of the current run and were sadly never fully realized here.. but I don’t blame this run for that. Morrison had 2-3 years and it was cut short early, leading to a rather disapointing ending we’ll get to. They never had a chance to really dig in because they were kicked out by morons and then their whole grand design was undone until Hickman un-undid it in 2019. And even then some of this like the idea of mutant culture and what not hasn’t been picked up on yet. I do mean YET, as given the sheer NUMBER of x books touching on all sorts of subjects, it’s only a matter of if not when.

As for who’s behind this it’s a combination of Jean and Charles: Jean is using charles notes and is going at full tilt. Scott is concerned though.. both about her since she went Phoenix and Logan told him about it and because these plans may alarm the humans. ON the former Jean just brushes him off which is not right.. given what happened with the phoenix force copy of jean, which granted had her personality, memories and powers and Jean later got a set of her memories so it might as well of been and only MAYBE the genocide is something Jean wouldn’t of done under the same circumstances, he’s understandably concerned. He lost her to it last time and it did weird shit to poor Rachel, who hif you don’t know is their daughter from an alternate timeline... because the Summer’s family tree is a WAKING NIGHTMARE. Thankfully I don’t have to untangle it because there’s a handy chart right here to do it for me that was recently released in X-Men Legends, a new series featuring legendary x creators telling stories in the cracks... and given we’re getitng storys by the simosons and peter motherfucking david, yeah good stuff.

And why yes there are more than one clone in this tree and several alternate timelines. , not to mention several clones and a sexy cat lady, it’s complicated is understnading it and i’m not sure what properly states it honestly. Also if your wondering about Adam there he’s the genetic son of Cyclops mom and the ma Shiar empreror who killed her for not sleeping with him through. Again it’s complicate REALLY feels like understatement.

Point is he DOES have a right to be worried about the thing that lead to her being cocooned for a while and left their daughter in the future at the time of this... just in case you needed a reminder after that wonderful clusterfuck of a chart up above athe x-men are really fucking weird.

So Jean brushing that off is not okay. She does however call him out on the second one and rightfully so: This isn’t some dominate the humans manifesto: this is simply changing the course of the future and how they teach their students to create a better one instead of adhering to human norms to try and appease “the republicans’, as jean puts it.. which has only gotten MORE RELEVANT, 20 years on: Attempts to appease the norms of society and things “just because that’s how it’s been” have never been a good thing. It’s why the very writer of this comic took several decades to properly identify themselves as non binary because people were too stuck int heir ways to try and see if there really were just two genders. Fighting against the grain, finding new ways to express things that have always been there... it’s what humanity needs to do and certainly what comes after us would need to do. i’ts how we get better as a race. If something’s not working we change it, quickly or slowly. And given Scott’s huge amount of emotoinal repression lately.. I can see why she’d see the former complaint as just him being a dick as opposed to the genuine concern it is.

Short Version: Jean Grey is fucking awesome and while he’d be the last to write her for decades, no one did it better than Grant and no one has since. Hopefully Gerry Duggan can clear that bar.

After this fight we get a fuller verson of what happened both at the end of issue 120 and in the big reveal last issue: Turns out Hank awoke because Charles piloted his body like a truck and needed it revealed fast. Hank’s regained control of his body and facilities by now, but in a twist of irony he helpfully points out, had Cassandra not gone a needlessly cruel and sociopathic tangent and had Beak beat Beast into a coma, Charles wouldn’t of had a body.

As for Charles in cass’ body he’s now in a tub of goo created by it.

It acts as a shield as well as melding him with Cerebra so he can talk to jean telepathically as his thoughts are very weak.

Thanks to this and her psychic Jaunt, Jean now knows just what the hell cassandra is: She really is Charles twin sister. As for how the hell she surivied outside of the womb and how Charles never knew, she created herself a clone body using his cells and didn’t fully manifest till now. And while she has plenty of intellegence, at an emotional level she’s fully convinced, much like an infant that only she and charles are real and thus destroying him means gaining domance over her world. So in short she’s both utterly insane and now has an interstellar empire at her fingertips.

And the news SOMEHOW get sworse: She booby trapped her body and charles only has days before he’s vegatable, having put every psychological disease possible in there, and she’s probably responsible for their colds and the u-men. So in short their pretty scrwed but at the very least Charles plans to try to flip things, use the fact their now public (a clear tactic to weaken them) to share his manefesto, his last will and testiment if you would.

Scott meanwhile figures since their sick a healer might be a good idea and goes solo to fetch Xorn... who just sorta disappeared after the annual and didn’t return till his arc.

We get an utterly touching scene after this: With Logan staying on his hobbit like toes in case of another attack, Jean goes to talk to hank. Hank is still throughly traumatized from the attack, fearing Cassandra is right and he’ll just keep devlovling until he ends up in a metamoprhisis type situation. I mean it’s not ALL bad hank,.. I mean going through that guarantees a musical about you.

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But Jean reassures him: It’s okay to be afraid of her, they all are.. but as she puts it...

It’s a really powerful inspiring scene... and really afirms how well Morrison writes Jean from the previous arc onward. She’s confident, powerful.. but also caring and compassionate. Here hank’s at his lowest, disparing that this might get worse.. and she reaffirms that htis evolution is an upgrade.. he may not be the same.. but that’s okay. He’s better. It really speaks to the core message of the X-Men as a whole and why they’ve stuck around all this time: It’s not just okay your diffrent.. it’s WONDERFUL. Your wonderful for being you. Whatever meataphor you read into it, it’s at it’s core a message that no matter who hunts you or trys to shame you for what you are, they are wrong and you are wonderful. And you are not alone... your people are out there.. and they will go through hell to protect you. It’s moments like this that remind me despite the bad parts, the accidnetal transphobic metaphor last time, a subplot with Hank coming up, the affair storyline and Planet X, just.. Planet X.. this run is special to me for a reason. It has heart, character and truly gets how the x-men should work, what makes them great... while making something NEW AND FRESH from it’s bones. Pushing envelopes, chanigng things for good and shaking things the hell up after far too much stagnation. It’s just pure good comicy goodness and i’m proud to finally be talking about it after having always wanted to.

So as we end the issue Scott grabs Xorn, whose been at a budist temple all this time, and Smasher arrives to warn earth... but his warning missed his intended target.

Well at least he got to Hellcow’s coven.. maybe she can call in Man Eating Cow and the Chick Fill A Super Cows.. thought hey might not help. Their parent company IS pretty homophobic.. I doubt their high on mutants either.

Testament Emma and Jean talk over things how i’ts going etc, with Emma unsuprisingly annoyed with most of the students and Jean optimsitc.

But Emma soon has bigger issues to deal with: TEEN ANGST!

Yeah 4/5 of the Cuckoos are upset Esme has a boyfriend. Their concerns in part are because without her their apparently powerless.. which given one will die and another will leave and they’ll be left with three is just factually not true, and either Morrison changed his mind later, or more likely their simply exagerating like teens do. Emma points out it’s pointless to fight this...

So... their in a domestically abusive relationship rife with sexual tension? Are you sure your not htinking of Sam and Diane, Ross and Rachel, Garfiled and Odie perhaps?

Meanwhile Angel’s sulking in a tree talking about how all the kids are stupid and she dosen’t fit in. That sort of thing. Wolverine naturally has a tactful and understandable response to this:

It’s here Angel goes from understandable, a bit hard edged and obnoxious becuase of a very rough life.. and just becomes annoying. I do get what Grant was trying to do: he was trying to play with Wolverine’s habit of taking sassy teens under his wing by giving him a more hardscrabble one with a harder life pre-xaviers.. not that Jubilee’s was easy, but I get what he was going for.. he just dosen’t succeed. Instead of a realistic version of a teen sidekick she just comes off as an obnoxious brat whose rude to everyone including her one friend Logan and her later boyfriend. It dosen’t help that ONCE AGAIN, Morrison flew directly into unfortunate implications without meaning to, by having the only major POC character (Bishop guest stars later and there are two significant characters during the Riot at Xaviers arc but both aren’t relevant before or after), be an abused teen with gross fly based powers and a teen pregnancy subplot. Seriously this isn’t even the LAST time Morrison shoves their foot in their mouth like this in this run. While I do like this run a lot, it’s still 20 years old and it’s still going to have a bunch of bits that have aged like harvarti left on a sidewalk, and handing out unfortnuate implications like their candy is tied for the biggest with their handling of Magneto when he finally shows up in person. It’s THAT bad a take on the character that it’s up there with accidental racisim and transphobia.

So moving on from.. that we get Jean comforting the professor before meeting the press, giving a throughly lovely speech about how Charles got his powers 30 years ago and despite seeing the worst in humanity, used his telepathy to allow him to see past it and see deep down just how scared and alone we all felt. So she takes them into a psychic conference room and we get a very interesting exchange.

It’s an interesting parallel to how real world disinfranchised groups, how it takes time.. but soon being a POC or LBGTQ+ goes from unrightfully perscuted to celebrated. How a group starts with hates whipsers on the fringe of things but grows to be accepted, like it always SHOULD have been. Take representation of Trans people in the media. It started with Trans people being almost entirely punchlines and sources of fucking horendous “DID DEY USED TO BE A MAN.” storylines and hurtful jabs at people who had transitioned, treating them as a sideshow instead of you know as fucking human beings. But now coming out as what you always were ont he inside is celebrated. Sure the right are dicks about it but they always will be: but most media gladly celebrates when someone comes out as trans. Same with being gay, or bi or pan or polamorus or nonbinary. Hell I admire grant for showing i’ts not even 100% perfect once you are popular: you still have to grapple both with people wanting to copot your culture and those who still don’t understand you trying to speak for you.

She also gets the standard question calling the X-Men an army, shoots it down with the normal global peacekeeping operation stuff.. then we get this bitch.

Who quickly realizes she’s outclassed by Emma Frost, professional that bitch. And while Jean is understandbly going to have to erase that.. I can’t blame her for snapping her.

Just to tear this shit down.: The privacy thing is not something she’s doing. All she’s doing is spcyhic teleconfrencing, you harpy. They fight greek gods and monsters to protect your sorry ass and the last one.. just makes me absolutely livid and feels so much like a real world comment i’m suprised there isn’t a fox news logo next to her bigoted head.

Trouble follows them everywhere they go.. because their mutants. They can’t help it. A LOT of shit like the demons, aliens, and gods and what not, I do not know if they actually did fight the greek gods but i’m not going to say for sure they did not, the norse gods defintely, not sure on greek. But the point is allt his stuff HAPPENS TO THEM half the time, or is a consequence of trying to PROTECT PEOPLE. I’m so nettled by this because this is how the marvel unvierse acts all the fucking time towards ALL super powered peoples. Mutants esepcailly but they blame the heroes and what not for being chased and harassed by guys in costumes or alien invasions or all the stuff they FIGHT. Sure sometimes they caused it but it’s either because of a monsterous person with a grudge or just because their powerful and some douche took an intrest. I’m just.. so fucking tired of asshole civlians in comics. It’s realisitc I know but it’s just hard to stomach after so many have turned their back on so many for such DUMB reasons.

Jean recovers well pointing out the genocide and how 16 million people, 16 million possible einsteinss or mozarts are just GONE, and that their trying to focus on the future. She also brings up autistic savants who can talk to atoms and while I don’t like the use of the savant thing, as it brings to mind stuff like rainman I very badly want to see this autistic kid who can talk to atoms as someone on the spectrum myself. Also I just want the crew of HIckma’ns books in general to pour over this because there are a lot of intresting powers and personalities only MENTIONED we never saw proper that could be great characters. Just saying.

Jean cocludes her speech to the world, including Logan whose wisely getting hammered at anearbye bar.. while Hank finds out what’s going on with their sickness.. nanonscopic sentnels in the blood.

But while the press confrence ends well with Jean having won over the press.. things go sideways as not only is it clear Esme’s boyfriend is in fact something sinister.. but Jean falls over due to the nano snetinels, and senses Scott being taken in tibet, taken down by a group of the Shiar’s imperial guard.. picutre the legion of superheroes but blindly loyal to the goverment and far more likely to get killed. And the rest are preparing to attacking including Gladiator who if you don’t know him, has all the powers of superman as long as he retains his confidence.

And it turns out Esme’s boyfriend is an advanced Scout, the shapeshifting amoeba blob thing Stuff, a new addition by morrison and good on him. And the Imperial Guard are here but with one goal

Superdestroyer

On the Ship we find out both wha’ts going on with Scott and Xorn, they’ve been taken and why the shiar are attempting mutant genocide: Cassandra is puppeting ALL of them, has convinced them the mutants are infected and since Lilandra is a puppet, Scott’s words fall on deaf ears.

Meanwhile Wolverine ambushes one of the squads, kiling one named Dinosaurer via claw to the brain, while Emma has had a dome thing put over her head and isn’t transforming into diamond to counter it because...

But the Cuckoos fight back, taking out oracle before easily handling stuff since his brain is fairly simple.. and given he’s racist against solid people and unlike the others reveling in the genocide just a tad.. yeah what he deserves. So now with a living weapon the Cuckoos make peace with Angel as they need all the help they can get.

Jean ushers the press into the panic room, not happy about it but not having anothe roption for their saftey. Hank tells her to self distruct crebra if cassandra get sclose and goes off to join the fight and let off some steam over the situation. Hank easily routes two of them, and one , Manta tries to just fly right ot jtean wince their TK proof. How does that go?

Jean gets to saftey after that, not that she needs it and hank is quickly taken down by a batch of Superguardians.. only for Wolverine to arrive in the Sknitt of time and chop them up.. oh and as one of the puts it...

Bad. Ass. I also like the addition of the flight patch, a nod to the Legion, who the Imperial Guard were based on as those kids used flight rings.

But while Logan and Hank easily tag team these assholes...

The SHiar call in the big guns.. Gladiator.. and I wasn’t kidding abotu the superman thing. While Logan TRIES to talk him out of it, the murders only confirm Cassandra’s bullshit and Gladiator breaks into the panic room throwing hank and wolverin’e before them having utterly decimated them off panel. I mean Wolvie is a badass.. but even he has limits. I also like recontecullizing the guard as a whole here.. showing just how TERRIFYING they SHOULD be as enimies to the x-men. Yes our heroes did win.. but barely and only till Gladiator showed up. In most cases thier clearly holding back out of affection but here hteir just at errifying unstoppable force, and also apparently used to doing genocides like this. It takes what was a cheesy shout out to David Cockrums other big artistic work, and makes it horrifying and it is AWESOME. I admit to not having liked this arc as much for the longest time but this reread, the sheer teror and hopleessness as an interstellar superman easily cuts through our mighty mutants like tissue... it’s awesome.

Thankfully one of the Guard found smasher.. and thus the truth comes out so our heroes are given a stay of execution with Gladiator clearly horrified at what he almost did and our heroes now so sick they can barely move and Hank can’t think them out of this.

Thankfully he dosen’t has to as back in space, Cyclops tires of it and points out something Xorn, not being as experinced nor having delt with the guard ahd thought of: G-Type, the glowly guy about to execute them, is made of solar energy.. and xorn can manipulate that thanks to his star brain. He does, they take out the rest.. and prepare to go save the day.

Losers: PIcking up shortly before where we left off we see Cassandra murder Lilandra’s advisor who figured out what she was just as our heroes escape.. and as Cassandra is having Lilnadra order all of the shiar ships to immolate themselves.

WIth Lilandra not being any use, Cass tries to psychically force her to commit sucidie but jumping off a space ledge but Xorn saves her. Cass tries another turn at mentally breaking an x-man, pointing out all scott’s recent flaws, his increased repression his faling marriage and while it gets him to stop it dosen’t quite work as well as it did on hank, likely because at his heart Hank is simply a more emotive person. Though his REAL reason for stalling is he can’t kill charles.. which he muses just as the ship blows up real good.

Meanwhile back at Campus the kids initaiate their plan, having Angel break in and take a dna sample. She also finds beak naked in a tank and decides eh why not and brings him with her. This ends up paying off as Beak suggests the obvious to get emma free.. just force the space guy they have over in the corner to do it. They do and it works

Back in the mansion our heroes prepare for Casssandra... but Jean and Logan object to saving her body, pointing out that getting hank to repair it is exactly what she wants, and that Jean feels she can save charles without uit, with Hank being understandably doubtful given their current condition.. but Jean’s real plan is to put charles in her head and it’s already too far in actoin to stop now: she’s been saving his memories as they flaked off and if she dosen’t do this now there will be no charles left.

Hank evacuates the civlians to teh danger room, and has an encounter with trish who tries to apologize and get him back.. only for him to rightfully regjecter her..a and then goes a step further by capping it off with:

Yeah on it’s own it’s not TERRIBLE. Still very dated to claim your gay just to spite someone, but for the time it was acceptable and compared to some of Morrison’s other gaffes in the run it’s minor at best. But it leads into a rather annoying subplot we’ll naturally get to that’s a much bigger issue, so i’ll save talking about it in full for when it comes up again.

Jean manages to shove Chuck into her head, but is naturally leaking a bit and barely holding it or him together and may of overestimated herself just a tad.. while on the lawn Cassandra easily takes out the guards. That said the scene of Jean taking Chuck into her head is REALLY damn awesome. Jean is the arc MVP by a mile and Hank is pretty dang good competition.

All Hell: We open the final issue of the arc with Scott and Xorn escaping the spaceship using some teleport tubes taking Arakai and Lilandra with them.

We open with Cassadra utterly humilating gladiator while the kid team prepares to fight her despite you know, the 8 billion to 1 odds against them.

Jean, despite hte discknes and trying to keep an old man in her brain marches out , prepared to fight, for the kids sake. For the world’s sake. But Logan’s easily taken out and with Jean barely holding it together.. the kids prepare to fight.. likely being slaughtered even if they mean well.. onlyf or help to finally arrive with Scott and Xorn glowy porting in. We get a really sweet , short moment with scott and jean...

Scott not knowing the situation tries to have Xorn heal charles first but since Cassandra’s body is dead and unoccupied that’s a no go.. he’s still usefult hough, curing Jean of her nanosentital sickness and moving on to Scott and Hank while there’s still time.

We find out more about cassandra: She’s a murrmadi, a bodyless parasite.. eseetinally the dark first test a person faces... she just stuck around because she was one for a telepath.. the world’s STRONGEST telepath. But really other than that part the rest just feels like stuff we alreayd heard LAST TIME, mildly repaackaged and seems enitrley like filler to pad the issue out.

So while Jean takes cerebra, both to keep it away from Cassandra’s plans of mutant genocide and for whatever she has planned, Scott, Hank and Xorn prepare to hold the line.. and as Jean mentions.. emma’s still out in the wild.

So we get our climactic showdown.. logan, hank and xorn veruss cassandra, with Cassandra trying to do eveyrthing she can, tear them down mentally, throw out the students with our heroes fighting back best they can. It’s good stuff.

Eventaully Cassandra gets to Jean.. but she’s already inacted her plan, putting a piece of Xavier’s mind in EVERY mutant, and giving Cassandra one ohell ofa reason you suck speech.

It’s an incapsulation of what i said earlier and what the runs about: alone we are weak but together.. we just might make it. More on that as we go. But thanks to Cass naturally going fo rcerberba.. she accidently restores charles and is left bodyless.

Emma finishes the fight with her own brilliant gambit, presending cassandra her body.. but it’s actually stuff , reprogrammed into a sentient brain for her to inhabit and leaving her trapped, with Charles hoping t teach the now mentally reset Cassandra. So Cassandra is beat, the virus is stopped, and our heroes have one.. but naturally for this run.. there’s one last suprise in store.

Charles can walk again.. and going forward will be a far more active member of the team. The team is complete, Cassandra is beaten, and the future.. is bright.

Final Thoughts:

This arc is a mixed bag.. it has really good scenes with the first and last issues being the standouts, with the former being an utter classic with an intresting gimick and the latter being a rousing climax with tons of awesome moments, with some good mometns scattered throughout.

But that’s the arc’s issue.. it has good moments and ideas.. but they don’t quite work togehter. The idea of teh Shiar Imperial Guard nearly doing a genocide is good, but the Shiar are such flat characters.. it’s really hard to care. They just don’t have enough connection to the x-men to really have the betryal sting but aren’t callous enough for genocide protocols to maeks sense. It’s a good idea, I still support it being terrifying.. but not enough is done with it and it feels liek Grant is more concerned with throwing weirdos at the x-men than actually saying something.

The biggest issue however is the art. While inconsitant art is an issue as they’d rotate artists.. but in previous arcs it was usually pretty evenly split but here it’s sloppy: Quitely does the first issue, van Sciver the second.. and the worst of the three Igor Kordey does most of the art. I gave him the beinfit of the doubt last time.. but this time not so much. His art is muddy and tries to be stylized but comes off confusing,ugly and not great. He’s probably a lovely guy but given he’s up against two legendary artists, his lack of style comapred to both shows badly. And given the arc is alreayd a bit overly complicated, it makes things WORSE by giving us muddled art in a very complex storyline. The flip flopping art makes a fairly intricate story very hard to follow. It’s easily why this arc didn’t grab me in the past and even seeing some better moments, it’s not the series best. It’s not the worst either, Planet X easily takes that ground despite having far better art. It’s an incredibly muddled incredibly long feeling arc and really needed to be compressed by one or two issues but instead is just hard to get through. It’s owrth it for the rest of the runa nd the good moments within but all in all easily one of the weakest points in the series.

Next Month on New X-Men:The X-Men soak in the new world order, and we meet fantomex, dust and the last surivivors of genosha.

Next on this blog:Green Eggs and Ham is back!

If you enjoyed this review PLEASE join my patreon. The end of hte month is coming and I need eveyr cent I can get so join at patreon.com/popculturebuffet and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

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innuendostudios · 5 years

Video

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Here’s How to Radicalize a Normie, a video essay on how the Alt-Right and their fellow travelers recruit. Clocking in at 41 minutes, 6756 words, 633 individual drawings, and 27 sources (including three full books), it is by far the longest and most heavily-researched video in The Alt-Right Playbook. I am very tired.

It took so long to put this behemoth together that my Patreon started to dip. So, maybe a little more than usual, if you want to keep seeing videos like these, please consider backing me on Patreon.

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, your friend Gabe is starting to worry you.

Gabe’s always been just, you know, a regular guy. Not very political. He likes video games, sci-fi, comics, Star Wars, and anime. White guy shit. The only offbeat thing about him is you suspect there’s like a 20% chance he’s a furry. For all intents and purposes, Gabe is a normie.

But recently Gabe’s been spending a lot of time on some radically conservative forums, and listening to radically conservative podcasts, and picking some radically conservative arguments with you and your friends. You never would have expected this, not from Gabe, and, given the speed it’s happened, it’s worrying to think where it might be headed.

How have the Alt-Right gotten their hooks into your friend?

If you’ve ever known a Gabe, this video is for you. Here’s How to Radicalize a Normie.

Step 1: Identify the Audience

What you need to know before we begin is: around 2013, the Nazis went online.

Hate groups in the US, as tracked by the Southern Poverty Law Center, had been growing in number since the noughts, but, between 2012 and 2014, they dropped by almost a quarter. Patriot groups dropped by over a third. However, hate crimes stayed about the same. Radical conservatism was not shrinking, but decentralizing. Still radical, still often violent, but now full of white nationalist nomads unlikely to join a formal organization.

This didn’t make them harmless. What it did was protect their asses from the typical hate group cycle: getting the public’s attention, making allies in conservative media, swelling their numbers, and then eventually disgracing themselves with failures, infighting, and, often enough, members committing horrific acts of violence, which come with social and sometimes legal consequences for all the other members.

So the Alt-Right and their fellow travelers these days don’t so much have members. They have hashtags, followers, viewers, and subscribers. This insulates them from their own audience. If Gabe, as a member of that audience, were to go out and commit a crime on their behalf, there’d be little doubt they had a hand in radicalizing him, but it’d be very hard to claim they told him to do it. On some of these sites, where Gabe spends hours and hours of his day, he’s never created an account or left a comment; the people radicalizing him don’t even know he’s there.

This distributed nature is what makes the Alt-Right, and the movements connected to it, unique. (You may remember a notable proof-of-concept for this strategy.) Doing almost everything online has, as compared with traditional hate movements, dramatically increased their reach and inoculated them from consequence. The trade-off, as we will see, is a lack of control.

And so we come to Gabe.

Gabe exists at the intersection of the kinds of people the Alt-Right is looking for - straight white cis men who feel emasculated by modern society, primarily, though they do make exceptions - and the kinds of people who are vulnerable to recruitment. Gabe fits the first profile in that he got bullied in high school, and often feels he has to hide his nerdy side for fear of getting ridiculed. The Alt-Right also has success with men who can’t get laid or recently got divorced or feel anxious about an influx of non-white people in their community. These things can make one feel like less than the confident white man they’re “supposed” to be. And it’s the closest they will ever come to being minoritized.

Regarding the second profile, it’s important to know that Gabe is not categorically different from you or me. He’s a cishet white dude - his problems are not unique. There isn’t a ton of research into the demography of the Alt-Right, but there may be a higher-than-average chance Gabe has a history of being abused or comes from a broken home. You don’t know if it’s true of Gabe, he’s never said. But most abuse survivors don’t become Nazis. The things that make people like Gabe recruitable tend to be situational: it happens often during periods of transition, as dramatic as the death of a loved or as benign as moving to a new city. Things that make people ask big life questions. Gabe has concerns like economic precarity, not knowing his place in a changing world, stressful working conditions. In other words, Gabe is suffering under late capitalism, same as everyone, and it’s entirely plausible he could have gone down the path to becoming a Leftist.

This is not to make an “economic anxiety” argument: the animating force of the Far Right is and always has been bigotry. But the Alt-Right targets Gabe by treating his “economic anxiety” as one of many things bigotry can be sold as a solution to. It is their aim that, when dissatisfied white men go looking for answers, they find the Alt-Right before they find us.

Step Two: Establish a Community

Were Gabe pledging an old-school hate movement, there would probably be a recruiter to usher him into an existing community. But that’s the kind of formalized interaction modern extremists try to avoid. Online extremism has many points of entry, and everybody’s journey is unique, so rather than be comprehensive we will focus on what are, in my estimation, the two most common pathways: the Far Right creates a community Gabe is likely to stumble into, or infiltrates a community Gabe is already in.

The stumble-upon method has two main branches, one of which is just “Gabe ends up on a chan board,” which we’ve already done a video about. The other is kind of the polar opposite of 4chan’s cult of anonymity: Gabe ends up in the fandom of a Far Right thought leader.

These folks are charismatic media personalities (that’s charismatic according to Gabe’s tastes, not ours; I don’t understand it, either). These personalities may gain traction on any number of platforms, from podcasts to reportage to blogging, though the most effective platform for redpilling is, and yes I am biting the hand that feeds me, YouTube. They may get Gabe’s attention through fairly standard means, like talking about or even generating controversy to get themselves trending, while some of the more committed will employ dubious SEO tactics like clickbait, google bombing, and data voids (just pause for definitions, we don’t have time).

What they tend to have in common, especially the most accessible ones, is that they don’t present themselves as entry points to the radical Right. In fact, many did not set out to be Far Right thought leaders, and may not think of themselves as such (though they are often selling products, of which the Alt-Right are among their biggest purchasers, and it’s not like they’re turning the money away). How they present is the same way anyone presents who wants to be successful on social media: accessible, approachable, authentic. The face-to-face relationship a budding extremist forms with their recruiter or the leader of their hate group’s local chapter are here folded into one parasocial relationship with a complete stranger.

Why this person appeals to Gabe is they’re not selling politics as politics, but conservatism as a kind of lifestyle brand. They rely heavily on criticizing or ridiculing the Left: feminists are oversensitive, Black people unintelligent, queer folks doomed to loneliness, and trans people insane; I dunno if it’s a coincidence that these are all things Gabe thinks about himself in his low moments. By contrast, they don’t sell conservatism as having sounder policies or a more coherent moral framework, but that abandoning progressive principles and embracing conservative ones will make Gabe happier. Remember, Gabe isn’t looking for white nationalism or misogyny, what he wants is the cure to soul-sickness, and these friendly micro-celebs are here to offer a shot of life advice with politics as the chaser. It is extremely important that politics be presented as a set of affects, not a set of beliefs.

The second pathway is infiltration, which is its own beast. Media personalities sometimes become gateways to the Right almost by accident: they do something edgy, a part of their audience reacts positively, and, facing no real consequence, they do it more; this leads to further positive reinforcement from conservative fans, the rest of the audience acclimates, and the cycle repeats, the personality pushing the envelope further and further based on what flies with their increasingly conservative audience. In this way, they become a right-wing figure by both radicalizing and being radicalized by their audience.

Infiltration is deliberate.

The Far Right will reliably target any community that has 1) a large, white, male population, 2) whose niche interests allow them to feel vaguely marginalized, and 3) who are not used to progressive critique of said interests. This isn’t to say progressive critique doesn’t exist, or hasn’t been baked into the property from the beginning, but that it has been, so far, easy for white guys to ignore. As such, progressives within that community probably don’t talk politics much, and women and minorities are perfectly welcome to post, same as anyone, but just, you know, don’t, don’t make identity politics, you know, like, a thing.

Given Gabe’s proclivities, he’s probably already in a number of fan communities where he can geek out and not get teased. And this is where the Far Right will go looking for him

Communities are at their most vulnerable to infiltration at times of political discord. This can happen naturally - say, a new property in the fandom has a Black protagonist - or it can be provoked - say, a bunch of channers join the forum and say provocative things about race to get people arguing - or both. Left to its own devices, the community might sort out its differences and maybe even come out more progressive than they started. But, with the right pressure applied in the right moment, these communities can devolve into arguments about the need to remove a nebulously-defined “politics” from the conversation.

The adage about bros on the internet is “‘political’ means anything I disagree with,” but it’d be more accurate to say, here, “‘political’ means anything on which the community disagrees.” For instance, “Nazis are bad” is an apolitical statement because everyone in the community agrees. It’s common sense, and therefore neutral. But, paradoxically, “Nazis are good” is also apolitical; because “Nazis are bad” is the consensus, “Nazis are good” must be just an edgy joke, and, even if not, the community already believes the opposite, so the statement is harmless. Tolerable. However, “feminism is good” is a political statement, because the community hasn’t reached consensus. It is debatable, and therefore political, and you should stop talking about it. And making political arguments, no matter how rational, is having an agenda, and having an agenda is ruining the community.

(Now, it is curious how the things that provoke the most disagreement tend to be whichever ones make white dudes uncomfortable. One of life’s great, unanswerable mysteries.)

You can gather where this is going: a community that doesn’t tolerate progressivism but does tolerate Nazism is going to start collecting Nazis, Nazis whose goal is to drive a wedge between the community and the Left. Once the Left acknowledges, “Hey, your community’s developing a Nazi problem,” the Nazis - who are, remember, trusted, apolitical members of the community who might just be kidding about all the Nazi shit - say, “Did you hear that, guys?! Those cultural Marxists just called all of us Nazis!” Wedge. Similarly, any community members who say, “but Nazis though” are framed as infiltrators pushing an agenda, even if they’ve been there longer than the Nazis have. They get the wedge, too.

This is how fandoms radicalize. They are built as - yeah, I’ll say it - safe spaces for nerds, weebs, and furries, and are told that the Left is a threat to their safety. Given a choice between leaving a community that has mattered to him for years and simply adjusting to the community’s shifting politics, the assumption is that Gabe will stay. This assumption is right often enough that a lot of fandoms have been colonized.

What is true of both of these methods - Gabe finding the Right or the Right finding him - is that Gabe does not come nor stay for the ideology. He’s here for the community, the sense of belonging, of being with his people, of having his fears validated and his enjoyment shared. The ideology is simply the price of admission.

Step Three: Isolate

There is a vast, interconnected network of Far Right communities out there, and Gabe is, at this point, only on the periphery. In order to keep him in, they need to disrupt his relationships to other communities, and become, more and more, his primary online social space. Having made this space hostile to the Left, they now seek to break his connections to progressives elsewhere in his life.

This is hard to do online. The whole appeal of moving radicalism to the internet is that your away-from-keyboard life doesn’t have to change. You are crypto the moment you log off. Some thought leaders will encourage their audience to cut ties with Family of Origin, or “deFOO,” but, even then, they can’t monitor whether the audience has actually done it the way an in-person movement could. And so alienating Gabe from the Left is less controlled, and, consequently, may be less total. How much Gabe isolates is up to him.

But the vast majority of Far Right media presumes an alienation from the Left. Part of conservative bloggers and YouTubers making the Left look pathetic is doing a lot take-downs and responses. This is a constant repetition of the Left’s arguments for the purpose of mockery, and, for Gabe, it starts to replace any engagement with progressive media directly. He soon knows the Left only through caricature. It also trains him, if he does directly engage, to approach the Left with the same combative stance as his role models. (For reference, see my comment section.) And this is only if he doesn’t partake in one of the many active boycotts of “SJW media.”

In addition to mocking the Left’s arguments, they also, curiously, appropriate them. This is one part sanitization: liberal centrism is more socially acceptable; indeed, many figures on the outer layers think of themselves as moderates, even as they serve as gateways to radicalism. But, also, many of Gabe’s problems could be addressed by progressive leftism, so they sell him racist, sexist versions of it. Yes, there is a problem with workers being underpaid and overextended, but the solution isn’t unions, it’s deporting immigrants; yes, there is a chronic loneliness and anger to being a man in the modern age, but it’s not because of the toxic masculine expectations placed on you by the patriarchy, it’s women being slutty; yes, wealth disparity does mean a tiny percentage of elites have more influence over culture and politics than the rest of us combined, but the problem isn’t capitalism, it’s the Jews. And it’s hard for Gabe to reject these ideas without, in the process, rejecting the progressive ideas they’re copied from; the Right’s “take the red pill” is, to the untrained eye, similar to the Left’s “get woke.” (Or, at least, the bowdlerized version of “get woke” that is no longer specifically about race which came to fashion when white people started saying it, grumble grumble.)

Take the red pill or reject them both; either is a step to the right.

As this rhetoric slips into his day-to-day conversation, even as seemingly harmless “irreverence,” it may strain relationships with people who are not entertained by this shit. Off-color comments about race and gender can certainly be wearying for female and non-white friends, which can lead to a passive distance or an eventual confrontation [“why is everyone but me so sensitive?!”], which only seem to confirm what his reactionary community says about liberal snowflakes. If he says these things on social media, he may get his account suspended, and, if he comes back under an alt, you can bet his new reactionary friends will be the first to reconnect, applaud the behavior that got him banned, and repeat should he get banned again. A few cycles of this and he’s lost touch with everyone else.

Also, his adoption of the insular, meme-laden terminology of this community makes him less and less comprehensible to outsiders.

Over time, sources of information get replaced with community-approved ones: conservative news, conservative YouTube, conservative Wikipedia if he’s really committed. The Algorithm soon takes note and stops recommending media from the Left. He stops watching shows with a “liberal agenda,” which usually means shows starring women and people of color. Now, there is evidence that the human mind responds to fictional characters similarly to real people, and that consuming diverse media can decrease bigotry in ways roughly analogous to having a diverse group of friends, which is one of many reasons we say representation matters. By consuming a homogenous media diet, Gabe stymies his ability to have even parasocial relationships with anyone who isn’t a cishet conservative white dude or one of their approved exceptions.

To the extent that any of this happens, it happens at Gabe’s discretion and at his own chosen pace. It has not been forced on him, only encouraged and rewarded. But the fact that it hasn’t been forced can make him all the more willing to accept it, because it seems safe to consider; even though his life and social circle are changing to accommodate, he does not feel committed. But many Gabes have walked these halls, and, if they close the door behind them, there’s nowhere left to go but down.

Step Four: Raise their Power Level

(...and they say we ruined anime.)

Consider the ecosystem of the Alt-Right as layers of an onion, with Gabe sitting at the edge and ready to traverse towards the center. (No, I’m not just going to reiterate the PewDiePipeline, though, if you haven’t seen it, go do that.)

The outer layer of the onion is extremism at its most plausibly deniable. Without careful scrutiny, the public-facing figureheads could pass as dispassionate, and the websites as merely problematic rather than softly fascist. It is valuable if Gabe believes this as well; that, at this stage, he believe the bigotry is simply trolling, the extremists an insignificant minority, and any report of harassment faked. That he believe where he is is as deep as the rabbit hole goes. And that he continue to believe this at each successive layer.

People in the deepest crevices of the Alt-Right self-report getting redpilled on multiple issues at different times in their journey to the center of the onion. If Gabe’s first red pill is about the SJWs coming for his free speech, he’ll think that’s all anyone in his community believes; there’s no racism here, people are just making a point about their right to use slurs. Then, when he gets redpilled on the white genocide, he’ll laugh at those Alt-Lite cucks who tried to sweep the race realists under the rug, and at himself for having once been one, but acknowledge that those channels and websites are still useful for onboarding people, so he won’t denounce them. At the same time, nobody takes those manosphere betas seriously.

And this process is reiterated with every pill swallowed: gender essentialism, autogynephilia, birtherism, Sandy Hook truth, pizzagate, QAnon if he’s really out there. The heart of the onion is typically the Jewish Question, but these can happen in any order, and in any number. But each layer sells itself as being, finally, the ultimate truth. Each denies the validity of the others; the layers ahead don’t exist, they’re made up my liberals, while the people behind are asleep where you are now awake. That’s why they chose “the red pill” as their metaphor: take it, and everything will be revealed. That’s why it cozies up with conspiracism. But what’s supposed to follow is that this knowledge help Gabe in some way, and it doesn’t. Blaming immigrants doesn’t actually fix the economy, and hating women doesn’t make men less lonely. But, having been alienated from everything outside the onion, once that sinks in, the only recourse on offer is to seek out the next pill.

And pills are easy to find. Those within the network have laissez-faire relationships, even as they, on paper, disavow one another. When they need a source or a guest host, they aren’t going to go to the Left; they’re going to feature each other. The Left is the enemy; their ideas are beneath consideration, and the only reason to engage them is for public humiliation. [Shapiro’s book.] But you can interview “western chauvinists” and that doesn’t mean you’re endorsing them, just, you know, it’s fine to hear ��em out, nothing should be off-limits in the marketplace of ideas. Besides, Nazis are apolitical.

And because these folks keep showing up in each others’ metadata, regardless of what they say, Google thinks there is definitely a relationship between the guy “just asking questions” and the guy denying the Holocaust. Gabe is softly exposed to many flavors of conservatism just slightly more radical than he is now, and is expected, at the very least, to not question their presence. This is an environment where deradicalizing - listening to the Left - would be sleeping with the enemy, but radicalizing further? You do you, buddy.

Gabe’s emotional journey, however, is somewhat more complex. If you’ve spent any time reading or watching reactionary media you’ve probably noticed it’s really. fucking. repetitive. It’s a few thousand phrasings of the same handful of arguments. Like, there’s only so many jokes about attack helicopters! But these people just crank out content, and most of it’s derivative; the reason to pick one personality over another isn’t because they say something different, but because they say it differently. Gabe just picks the affect it’s delivered in.

Repetition dulls the shock of the most egregious statements, making them appear normal and prepping him for more extreme ideas. Meanwhile, the arguments themselves? They’re not good. (BreadTube will never run out of shit to debunk.) They are repetitive because they’re not good. They’re mantric. A good argument you only need to hear one time; if you can follow it, internalize it, and explain it to someone else, you know you’ve understood it. But a bad argument can’t convince you on its own merits, so it will often rely on affect. This can be the snappy, thought-terminating cliche, or the long, winding diatribe that sounds really sensible while you’re hearing it but when someone asks you for the gist you can only say “go watch these 17 videos and it’ll all make sense.” Both these approaches are largely devoid of content, but, gosh, if they don’t sound sure of themselves.

And that mode can be very persuasive, but it doesn’t stick the way a coherent argument does. It needs to be repeated, the affect replenished, because the words matter less than the delivery. There needs to be a steady stream of confident voices saying “we’ve got this figured out and everyone else is stupid” or Gabe’s gonna notice the flaws. They are not well-hidden.

And the catch-22 of returning to that stream over and over is that these communities are stressful even as they are calming. People afraid they will die virgins go to forums with people who share and validate that fear, and also say, “Yes, you will die a virgin.” People afraid Syrians are coming to kill us all watch videos by people who share and validate that fear, and also say, “Yes, Syrians are coming to kill us all.” Others have already pointed out that rubbing your face in your worst anxieties is a form of digital self-harm, but I need to you understand the toxic recursion of it: Gabe is going to these communities to get upset. Every emotion is converted into anger, because sadness, fear, and despair are paralyzing but anger is motivating; Gabe feels less helpless when he’s pissed off. And so, while he’s topping up on reassuring nonsense, he’s also topping up on stress. And, being cut off from everything outside the network, the only place he knows to go to release that stress is back to the place that gives it to him. It’s a feedback loop, pulling him deeper and deeper on the promise that, at some point, relief will come.

It is a similar dynamic that keeps people in abusive relationships.

When someone in Gabe’s community makes a racist joke, they are presenting Gabe with a choice between the human interaction of laughing with his friends and his societal responsibility not to be a fuckin’ racist. And not laughing seems ridiculous; everybody’s friends here; no one’s getting hurt; this is harmless. And so the irreverent race joke draws a line between the personal and the political, and suggests that one can be safely prioritized over the other. One way to look at radicalization is being asked to stick with that seemingly innocuous decision as the stakes are raised incrementally: first with edgier humor, and then comments that are funny because they’re shocking but you couldn’t really call them jokes, and then “funny” comments that are also sincerely angry, but, in each instance, since he laughed with his bros last time, it stands to reason he should keep favoring the personal over some abstracted notion of “politics.”

This is why the progressive adage “the personal is political” is among the most threatening things you can say in these spaces.

I’m not trying to make a slippery slope argument. Most of us who laughed at edgy jokes when we were teenagers didn’t grow up to be Nazis. It is a slippery slope in the specific context of being in community with people trying to radicalize you. Gabe is a lonely white boy in need of friends, and laughing at a racist joke is personal, while not laughing is political. Staying in a community that has Nazis in it is personal, and leaving is political. The personal is what brings people together and the political drives them apart. (The “only if some of them are bigots” part of that sentence is usually lopped off). There’s this joke on the internet that nerds perceive only two races: white and political. Following that logic, what could be more apolitical than an ethnostate?

They are banking on his willingness to adapt his beliefs to suit an environment that meets a need. That same need can be satisfied by white nationalism. There are few things more seductive to people who doubt their own worth than being told you are valuable simply for being white. And you can sub in male, cis, straight, allosexual, or able-bodied. It just takes priming: by the time Gabe officially embraces bigotry, he’s already been acting like a bigot for months. The red pill is simply the moment he says it out loud.

Change Gabe’s surroundings, and you change Gabe.

Step Five: ???

The final step in a traditional extremist group would be getting a mission. But that is one thing the Alt-Right can’t do. Once you start giving clear directives, you can’t play yourselves off as a bunch of unaffiliated hashtags and think tanks; you are now a formalized movement accountable to its followers, and can be judged and policed as such.

To my mind, Charlottesville was an attempt to become such a movement, taking things offline and getting all the different groups working collectively. And, as so often happens when these people get in the same space - especially with no official leaders or means of control over their members - it backfired. Their true colors came out before they were ready and a counter-protester lost her life.

This would be the point where, historically, an extremist group starts to disintegrate. Their veneer of respectability gone, they’re now hated by the public, the media wants nothing more to do with them, and everyone not in jail turns on each other or goes underground. This is also the point where the liberal establishment says, “My job here is done,” and utterly fails to retake control of the narrative, allowing the next batch of radicals to pick up more or less where the last one left off.

But to an already-decentralized group like the Alt-Right, Charlottesville was bad but eminently survivable. People retreated back to the internet, with its code words and anonymous forums, but that’s where much of the work was already done anyway. The platforms where they organized kept tolerating them, the authorities still didn’t classify them as terrorists, and any disgraced figureheads were replaced with up-and-comers.

The major change in strategy is that it doesn’t seem anyone has tried to formalize the Alt-Right since.

So where does that leave Gabe? He’s gone through this whole process of largely hands-off indoctrination - and I should stress his journey may look like what we’ve outlined or it may look different in places, this video is not comprehensive - but now he’s swallowed every pill he cares to, he blames half a dozen minorities for everything he sees as wrong with the world, and no one will give him anything to do. You’ve got this ad hoc movement frothing young men into a militant fervor and then just leaving them to stew in their own hate. Should we really be surprised at how many commit mass shootings?

This is a machine for producing lone wolves.

Leaving men to take up arms of their own volition is a way of enacting terror while being just outside the popular conception of a terror cell. There are also, of course, more classic militias that will offer Gabe clear directives - they’re recruiting from the same pool. And Gabe may stop short of this step, settling in a middle layer that suits him or finding the inner layers too extreme. But violence is the logical conclusion of an ideology of hate, and, should Gabe take this step, he can approach violence in the same incremental fashion he approached conservatism.

He can start with yelling at people on Twitter, and then maybe collective brigading, DDoS attacks, sharing dox, leaking nudes, calling their phone numbers, texting them pictures of their houses from the sidewalk. These acts of cruelty become games of oneupmanship within his community. All this can start as far back as Step 2, and get more intense the deeper he goes. Some people join explicitly partake in harassment and violence the way Gabe joined to talk about anime.

But this behavior can serve as a kind of buy-in. The Left and the feminists and the LGBTQs and the Muslims and the immigrants are all, within his community, subhuman. You’ve maybe heard the conservative catchphrase “feminism is cancer”; well don’t treat cancer by having a respectful exchange of ideas with it, but by eradicating it down to the last cell. Cruelty against the Left is framed as righteous.

From any other perspective, posting someone’s bank information is something you might feel ashamed of. Which creates a psychological imperative not to consider other perspectives. A thing that keeps people in is staving off the guilt they will reckon with the moment they step out. Gabe is also aware that anything he’s done to the Left could be done to him if he leaves; some communities even keep dox on their members as insurance. And the things he’s been encouraged to do to the Left will likely make him feel that the Left would never take him now; the radical Right is the only home he’s got. Harassment becomes another tool of isolation.

Steadily, options for Gabe are whittled down to being a vigilante or a nihilist. There are periods of elation: moments the Alt-Right feels it’s winning - or, more accurately, the people they hate are losing - are like cocaine. They are authoritarians, after all. But the times in between are mean and angry. They are antisocial, starved of emotional connection, consuming incompatible conspiracies that may at any point run them afoul of one another, devoted to figureheads who cater to but cannot risk leading them, and living under constant threat of being outed to the Left or turned on by the Right for stepping out of line. Gabe took this journey for the sense of community and purpose, and, but for the rare moments everything goes their way, the Alt-Right can’t maintain either. They can only keep promising his day will come, a story he could get from a $5 palm reading.

The feeling there’s nothing left but to kill yourself or someone else is so common it’s a meme.

But there is always a third option: Gabe can leave.

Pre-Conclusion: For Fuck’s Sake Do Not Make Gabe Your Whole-Ass Praxis

Before we continue, I want to state plainly that Gabe went off the deep end because he found a community willing to tell him that, because he is a cishet white man, the world revolves around him. Do not treat him like this is true.

If a fraction of the energy spent having debates with America’s Gabes were spent instead on voter re-enfranchisement, prisoner’s rights, protections for immigrants, statehood for DC and Puerto Rico, and redistricting, Gabe’s opinions, in the societal sense, wouldn’t matter. Reactionary conservatism is a small and largely unpopular ideology that is only so represented in our culture and politics because they’ve learned how to game the system.

And I get it. Those are huge problems that are going to take years to address, where, if you know a Gabe, that’s a conversation you could have today. And, if you think you can get through to him, it is worthwhile to try. This is a fight on many fronts and deradicalization is one of them. But it is only one, so please keep it in perspective. It sends an awful message when we spend more time trying to get bigots back on our side than we do the people they are bigoted against.

Your value as a lefty does not hinge on whether you can change Gabe’s mind.

Conclusion: How Gabe Gets Out

He may just grow out of it. These communities skew young, and some folks hit a point where hanging with edgy teens doesn’t feel cool anymore.

He may become disillusioned after the movement fails to deliver on its promises.

He may become disillusioned if something goes wrong in his life and his community isn’t there for him, if he feels they like his race and his gender but don’t actually care about him.

He may be shocked if he sees the Alt-Right at its worst before being appropriately conditioned. Charlottesville was a step too far for a lot of people.

His community may turn on him for any perceived unorthodoxy, and he may leave out of necessity.

He may be separated by circumstance from the community - a trip with no internet, hospitalization, arrest - and not be able to top up on the rhetoric. This may lead him to question his beliefs.

His community may disappear, either tearing itself apart or getting shut down by authorities.

He may have incidental contact with populations he’s supposed to hate, and have trouble reconciling who they are in person with what he’s been told about them. In his community, people bond over shared intolerance, but, suddenly, being tolerant helps him make friends. (This is one reason the Alt-Right has made a battleground of the college campus.)

He may form or revisit relationships outside the network, people who can offer him the connection he’s been looking for. This may reintroduce outside perspectives. More importantly, it rekindles his ability to have healthy relationships at all, something the Alt-Right has estranged him from.

As with recruiters, it seems these “escape hatch” relationships can sometimes be parasocial; coming to respect a public figure who is on the Left, or is critical of the Alt-Right.

Someone he is close to may compel him to choose, “me or the movement.” A lot of young men leave to save a romantic relationship.

Hearing stories from people who’ve already jumped may help; there aren’t a lot of public formers, and some raise suspicions as to their sincerity, but it is getting more common, and may be the closest we get to exit counseling for the Alt-Right.

He may become aware of the ways he’s being manipulated, or have them revealed to him, maybe because he stumbled into BreadTube, I dunno. Knowledge that you are being indoctrinated is no guarantee it won’t work - you are not immune to propaganda - but it can help one resist.

And he may revisit a core belief system that used to guide him, be it religion or social justice or a really wholesome fandom, and be reminded of the identity he used to have.

Moments like these, in isolation or in aggregate, can inspire Gabe to jump. They are also good times for friends to intervene. The reach and the impunity that comes with the internet means it has never been easier to fall into reactionary extremism. It has also never been easier to get out. People who exit skinhead gangs often fear for their lives; for Gabe, there’s a chance getting out is as simple as going to a different website. Much of his community does not know his name or his face and he may not important enough to dox.

What doesn’t get Gabe out - not reliably, not that I have seen - is an argument with a stranger who proves all his facts wrong and his ideology bunk. Facts don’t always work because facts don’t care about his feelings. This was about staying in a community, and holding onto an identity, that mattered to him. It was about belonging, and that is something a rando from the other side of the culture war can’t give him and probably shouldn’t be responsible for.

The theme here is human connection. Before he can do the work of disentangling himself, and facing the guilt of what he’s believed and maybe done, he has to know there’s somewhere for him on the other end of it. That the Right hasn’t ruined him. They’ve told him all of history is groups fighting each other over status, and, without his clan, he’ll be an exile. He needs a better story.

I don’t know that lefty spaces are ideal for this, in no small part because bringing someone who’s a bit of a Nazi but working on it into diverse communities is… questionable. And it probably wouldn’t be good for him, either; having just gotten out of a toxic belief system, he’s going to be deeply skeptical of all ideologies. In a perfect world, people who care about Gabe could build for him - to use a therapy term - a holding space. Someplace private - physical or digital - where Gabe can work out his feelings, where he is both encouraged and expected to be better but is not, in the moment, judged. That comes later. It is delicate and time-consuming work that should not be done in public, but we find these beliefs, built up over the course of months or years, tend to fall away very quickly with a shift of environment. Change Gabe’s surroundings and you change Gabe.

But, instead, a lot of people who jump are functionally deprogramming themselves, which is working for a lot of them, but it’s haphazard, and there are recidivists.

If you don’t personally know a Gabe, or have training as a counselor, you may not be in a position to help him. Possibly there are things you can do to disrupt the recruitment process or prevent infiltration of spaces you’re in - I’m looking into it, but talk to your mods - but, elephant in the room: meaningful change will require reform on the part of platform holders. Tools to disrupt this process already exist and are being used on groups like ISIS, but they’re not being used on the Alt-Right because they try oh so very hard not to get classified as terrorists (and also any functioning anti-radicalization policy would require banning a lot of conservative politicians, so there’s that...).

But what makes our story better than theirs is that the fight for social and economic justice, though it is long, and difficult, and frustrating, when it works, it fulfills the promise the Right can’t keep: it materially make people’s lives better. I am not prone to sentimentality, or to giving these videos happy endings. But one thing we have that the Alt-Right doesn’t is hope.

#video essay

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tealin · 4 years

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Basler to the Beardmore 2: Errands

As always, no matter what Tumblr does with it, this post is available in its intended presentation at twirlynoodle.com/blog along with the rest of my Antarctic travel diary.

On this flight to the heart of Antarctica, I was only a hanger-on. We had two errands to run before entertaining me and my historical interests, the most important of which was restocking a fuel depot at the base of the Transantarctic Mountains.

There are many busy science teams in Antarctica, and while some renewable energy sources are starting to be used, the fact is that everything runs on a reliable supply of fossil fuels, mostly petrol. The aircraft that keep people and their essentials moving around the continent have a network of fuel depots, both for relay stops and for emergencies. Contrary to some conspiracy theories, anyone can fly to and around Antarctica if they have the money and resources to get there, and many do. As the national science programmes have a very tight margin, and their fuel depots are expensive to maintain, they cannot afford jet-setters raiding their supplies, so the locations of these depots are kept secret. Therefore I am not going to tell you where our first stop was. The chances of a private pilot reading this blog are slim, but it may be possible to deduce from my photos where this particular cache is: if you are that outlier, I hereby ask you please to do the decent thing and leave the fuel alone – or if you absolutely must access it, then let the USAP know what you've taken and make good on it as soon as you can. Everyone in Antarctica looks out for each other, and that includes you. OK? OK.

So, we've taken off, and done our acrobatics to get the skis up, and are now facing a couple of hours' flight time before we reach our primary destination. There is, quite frankly, nothing between Williams Field and the Transantarctic Mountains, besides hundreds of miles of the Ross Ice Shelf. This was known as 'The Barrier' to the early explorers, because when James Clark Ross sailed down to explore in 1840 it was a great while wall that prevented his ships from going any further. In later years it wasn't so much a barrier as a highway – clear and flat, and not much off sea level, it provided a route deep into the high latitudes without the perils of the high windy Polar Plateau. Among people who frequently travel out there, it is sometimes referred to as 'the Flat White' – my impression is that this term came from the Kiwis, and the espresso drink of the same name is also antipodean in origin, so I wonder which came first. It is undeniably Flat, and White (though the refraction of sunlight through ice crystals makes it look anything from peachy to periwinkle, depending on the angle), but none of its various names communicate just how big it is.

I have flown over the Canadian tundra many times, and over the Greenland ice cap, but the view from 35,000 feet is like looking at satellite view in Google Maps compared to flying at cloud level, where the parallax with the horizon gives you a much keener sense of distance. The Barrier is BIG. In fact, 'big' is too small a word to communicate it. 'Massive', 'mammoth', and 'gargantuan' are more melodramatic than descriptive. Its vastness puts all of human consciousness, never mind vocabulary, in proper perspective. For my money, it outdoes the night sky as a visual approximation of infinity.

Getting a sense of its size, especially in a still photo, is difficult without an object for scale. For your education and my good fortune, we happened to fly over the RAID convoy as they made their way from the Minna Bluff site to where the Ross Ice Shelf meets the Antarctic continent. Rapid Access Ice Drilling has been supporting various scientific projects for a few years now, whether their interest is in the ice itself (its trapped air gives a record of Earth's atmosphere in millennia past) or what's underneath (marine environments far removed from the open sea; the bed of an accelerating glacier). Their units are about the size of a shipping container, and are pulled by enormous tractors, so if they are this dwarfed by the Flat White, imagine how much more puny a sledge party would be.

Before too much longer we were at the depot. Landing at an Antarctic field airstrip is even more complicated than taking off: we circled once, to do a visual check, then skimmed it with the skis to make sure no hidden crevasses had opened up since the last time someone landed here, then finally touched down for real on the third go-round. The plane crew rapidly got to work unloading the fuel drums; I offered to help but was assured I wasn't needed, so spent the time taking photographs and mucking around in the snow.

The first thing that struck me was how beautiful the mountains were in colour. The best photos I've seen of them have been black and white, so the rich variety in shades was remarkable. What you can't see in this small photo was how the lighter rock was banded with strata of blue-grey and orange-brown sandstone, giving it a luxurious marbled effect.

I've read a lot about how conditions on the Barrier are so much different than on the coast. This was far deeper into it than I was ever expecting to set foot, but I was surprised how tame it was. Now, it was an idyllically calm and sunny day – had it been any different we would not have been there – so the only time I realised that it was actually much colder than McMurdo was when a slight breeze wafted past my bare hand and broke the warm spell that the sunshine had cast.

What was different was the snow. Around McMurdo, the snowbanks which did build up had been repeatedly blown over with volcanic dust which warmed up in the sun and made the snow gritty, icy, and rotten – if you live in a snowy city, think of the texture of snowbanks alongside busy roads. Out here, there was nothing but snow, all the way down to where it became ice – powder blown off the mountains, maybe even off the Polar Plateau, deposited here to be compacted in the sun and polished by the wind. The crust made by these processes was smooth and, in many places, thick enough to support my weight, so I hardly left a footprint – a 'good pulling surface' as sledgers would have it – but without warning there would be a thin spot where my foot would break through and sink in the sugar-like snow below.

Before long, the crew had finished their restock, and playtime was over. After our exciting takeoff manoeuvres, we started climbing the mountains to the second of our tasks for the day.

The Transantarctic Mountains, according to our pilot, are still something of a mystery. They are a very high mountain range, but unlike the Rockies for example, they show little or no sign of buckling or other geological forces – they seem to have been lifted whole, keeping their layers of sandstone and coal and fossil-rich deposits mostly flat, with occasional intrusions of igneous rock. The range acts as a sort of massively oversized dyke, holding back the miles-deep polar ice cap from spilling over West Antarctica, the Ross Ice Shelf, and the Ross Sea, as the mountains cross the continent.

Ice appears to be solid, but it actually behaves more like a stiff jelly or fondant icing – if it finds a change in altitude it will flow, very slowly, downhill. This is what a glacier is: snow gets deposited over many years without melting, turns to ice, and when its volume can no longer be held at elevation, starts to creep down the valley. The ice of the Polar Plateau finds gaps in the Transantarctic Mountains and pushes through them, forming glaciers which pour out onto the Ross Sea and, merging, form the Ross Ice Shelf. The Beardmore Glacier is one of the largest of these, but there are hundreds of smaller ones, and many tributary glaciers that feed these. In flying over the lower Transantarctic Mountains, there were plenty of opportunities to see ice dynamics at work:

Our destination was up near the head of a narrow glacier, where it broadened out into a snowy plain called the Bowden Névé – névé being a term for young snow which has not yet compacted into glacial ice but is in a position to do so. This was CTAM (pronounced see-tam), a geology camp established to be a hub for teams doing work in the Central TransAntarctic Mountains. The névé afforded an open, soft, flat place to land planes carrying supplies and people, who could then move on to less accessible places overland. At least, it did, until a wind event a few years ago scoured deep furrows in the landing strip.

As we flew over, doing the visual check, I was astonished the site could be spotted at all, as it was only a small clutch of bamboo poles in the vast expanse.

Having proven that the landing strip was landable, the next task was to see what condition the building was in. What building, you ask? Why, the one completely covered in snow, under the markers. Once upon a time it was a couple of modules standing on the surface of the glacier, but Antarctica gradually swallowed them up, so now one has to dig down through the snow to reach the roof hatch, eight feet above the floor.

On the way from the Basler to the camp site, I was treated to one signature snow effect I had missed out on, at the depot. 'The Barrier Hush' is frequently mentioned in journals: it was described as a 'whoosh' or a 'hush-shh-shhhh' that sighed out from underneath the walker as he broke through the top crust into a pocket of air underneath, where the loose snow had settled after the top crust was formed. The pocket could sometimes extend quite a long way from where the crust was broken and the sound followed the exchange of air as far as it went. It would startle the ponies and excite the dogs, until they learned there was nothing to chase and catch.

I was walking some way behind the plane crew as they made for the camp with shovels, and suddenly heard what I thought was a small whirlwind – a sharp and intense, almost whistling sound that seemed to race across my path. This being the sort of place one would expect to see dust devils (or snow devils, I suppose they would be) I looked around to see where it was, but the air was as still up here as it had been down on the ice shelf. It was only after the second or third time it happened that I realised what it was – it was so completely not how I had imagined the Barrier Hush to sound. If you make a little whirlwind sound by whisper-whistling whshwshywshwhwwsh with your lips really quickly, that's what it sounded like. Having heard it, now, I can completely understand how the dogs would have thought there was a small creature scurrying around under the snow. It sounded much more animate than it had been described. I felt so lucky to be let into that secret.

The crew got the hatch open and the first of them climbed down into the pitch darkness to report everything OK. The rest followed, and invited me along, but I am not the most coordinated travelling artist, and couldn't see a way down for me that didn't end in a concussion. So I stayed above while they explored the submerged camp, and enjoyed the view. It was really spectacular – not just the stunning mountains but the thin, brittle blue of the sky and the hardness of the sunlight, as if the whole world were a taut drumskin.

And, best of all, from here the horizon was the Polar Plateau – another Flat White stretching to the South Pole and beyond.

#antarctica #travel #basler #dc3 #CTAM #air freight #mountains #transantarctic mountains #bowden neve #geology #field camp #photos

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religioused · 3 years

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Church Flies First Class

PIE Day Sermon

by Gary Simpson

Hebrew Scriptures:

Numbers 21:4-9 (CEV)

The Israelites had to go around the territory of Edom, so when they left Mount Hor, they headed south toward the Red Sea. But along the way, the people became so impatient that they complained against God and said to Moses, "Did you bring us out of Egypt, just to let us die in the desert? There's no water out here, and we can't stand this awful food!"

6 Then the LORD sent poisonous snakes that bit and killed many of them. Some of the people went to Moses and admitted, "It was wrong of us to insult you and the LORD. Now please ask him to make these snakes go away." Moses prayed, and the LORD answered, "Make a snake out of bronze and place it on top of a pole. Anyone who gets bitten can look at the snake and won't die."

9 Moses obeyed the LORD. And all of those who looked at the bronze snake lived, even though they had been bitten by the poisonous snakes.

John 3:14-21 (CEV)

And the Son of Man must be lifted up, just as that metal snake was lifted up by Moses in the desert. Then everyone who has faith in the Son of Man will have eternal life.

For God So Loved the World God loved the people of this world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who has faith in him will have eternal life and never really die.

17 God did not send his Son into the world to condemn its people. He sent him to save them! No one who has faith in God's Son will be condemned. But everyone who doesn't have faith in him has already been condemned for not having faith in God's only Son.

19 The light has come into the world, and people who do evil things are judged guilty because they love the dark more than the light. People who do evil hate the light and won't come to the light, because it clearly shows what they have done. But everyone who lives by the truth will come to the light, because they want others to know that God is really the one doing what they do.

Reflection:

Our Lectionary readings include one of the best known and most quoted and loved passages of the Christian Scriptures, John 3:16. The King James Version resonates for me because I have heard it so often. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. I am not sure if John 3:16 is why the Gospel of St. John is loved so much. For "many people," John's Gospel is "the most precious book in the Bible." (1) Scholar William Barclay observes that John can be "read and loved without any commentary." (2)

John 10:17-18 needs to be considered as we reflect on John Chapter 3. "The Father loves me, because I give up my life, so that I might receive it back again. No one takes my life from me. I give it up willingly!" This means Jewish people are in no way responsible for Jesus' death, and you can tell that to people who dislike Jewish people because of Jesus' death.

To some people, John 3:16 is problematic because it sounds so bad - that Parent God would send the Son to die for humanity. Looking at this from a Trinitarian perspective might help. John O'Donnell sees the "death of Jesus as a Trinitarian event." (3) O'Donnell believes Jesus' death was "an event between God and God." (4) Both God, the Parent, and God, the Son suffer.(5) I think the idea of God and the Son suffering catches some people's attention. The cross "shatters our ideas about God." (6) We confront the theological problem that God suffers. "God literally takes suffering into" God's "own life." (7) Renowned Swiss Catholic theologian Hans Urs Von Balthasar notes that the division between God the Parent and God the Son at the cross "rends the heart of God." (8) The general sense from theologians who view salvation from a Trinitarian perspective is that God takes upon God the weight of human sin and mistakes. I think a takeaway from these Catholic theologians is this: "The Being of God cannot be separated from God's acts." (9) God's impressive acts of love are an integral part of God.

While I grew up with a sense that Jesus loved people, I was less certain if God loved people. This passage helps establish a very different sense of God. According to the passage, redemption and the saving of humanity started with God. "It was God who sent" the Son, because God loves humanity.(10) I believe that John 3:16 is a universalist text because it shows the breadth of God's love. According to the text, God's love is not limited to a nation, to good people, and to people who love God. God's love is so extensive that it includes the entire world.(11) God's love embraces people we like. People we either dislike or fear are surrounded by God's love, just as surrounded by love as we are. People from every class, occupation, ability, ethnicity, race, sexuality, and gender are included in God's love. John 3:16 includes people who do not think that they deserve to be treated with love and kindness.

John 3:16 might be the perfect passage for PIE Day. Whosoever is an inclusive term, so inclusive that one of the largest and most popular pioneering LGBT+ Christian website is named Whosoever. The website used to receive over 500 thousand visitors a year.(12) The commission Jesus gave the disciples in the Gospel of Matthew is to take the Gospel to the entire world.

In the Numbers narrative, people are bitten by poisonous snakes, and they become very sick. The people admit that they made a mistake, and they cry to Moses for help so Moses prays. God tells Moses to make a bronze snake and to put it on a pole. Anyone who is sick from a snake bite can look at the snake, and they are healed.

Sadly, in contemporary Canada, many people are bitten by the poisonous snake of internalized societal self-hate. Because of the hate, the violence, and discrimination they experience, they believe that they are deeply flawed, that something dreadful is wrong with them. And they come to believe that they do not deserve what other people have.

The Hebrew Scriptures reading contains a narrative that perplexes some Jewish people. God forbids graven images, and God turns around and commands Moses to make an image of a snake. All of the people are to look at the snake and they are healed.(13) There are times when the only way we can find healing and the ability to move on is to face our problems. PIE Day is a day when Affirming Ministries tell their stories about their Public, Intentional, and Explicit work for members of sexual and gender minority people. By telling our stories, we face the problems of homophobia and transphobia. As we face the problems, we are able to work to help reduce homophobia and transphobia so that queer and trans people feel more accepted and welcome in society and in our churches. When we name the groups of people churches and society marginalizes, we can address the problems and find healing.

Troy Perry founded the largely LGBT+ denomination, the Metropolitan Community Churches. Anita Bryant had a job promoting Florida orange juice. In 1977, Anita Bryant successfully campaigned for the repeal of legislation prohibiting discrimination against gay people. As a result of her public campaigns against gay rights, gay bars across North America replaced screwdrivers with an "Anita Bryant Cocktail" made from vodka and apple juice.(14)

Troy Perry was on a late-night plane flight. When they brought him breakfast, he noticed there was orange juice. Troy Perry asked what kind of orange juice it was. He asked if it was Florida orange juice. The Stewardess replied, "Well, it's Minute Maid." Troy said that he could not drink the orange juice because it contained Florida orange juice. He said, "I'm a homosexual," and "we are boycotting Florida orange juice because of what Anita Bryant is doing to us." He says people started eating about "90 miles an hour." (15) A few minutes later, a smiling male flight attendant approached Troy and said, "Reverend Perry would you come with us. We're going to move you up to first class." (16) Troy flew first class because he faced the problem.

How can we live out PIE Day? On PIE Day, we are reminded of our need to extend a Public, Intentional, and Explicit welcome to members of all gender and minority groups and to members of all other groups who historically face discrimination and exclusion. On PIE Day, I hear Troy Perry challenging our church to go first class.

Notes:

(1) William Barclay. The Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of John. Vol. 1. (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956), ix.

(2) Barclay (1956), ix.

(3) John O'Donnell. The Mystery of the Triune God. (London: Sheed and Ward, 1988), 60.

(4) O'Donnell (1988), 62.

(5) O'Donnell (1988), 63.

(6) O'Donnell (1988), 63.-

(7) O'Donnell (1988), 63-64.

(8) O'Donnell (1988), 65.

(9) Dick Eugenio. Communion with God: the Trinitarian Soteriology of Thomas. F. Torrance. Ph.D. Thesis. (Manchester: Nazarene Theological College, 2001), 10.

(10) Barclay (1956), 128.

(11) Barclay (1956), 129.

(12) Candace Chellew-Hodge. “Rev. Candace Chellew-Hodge Profile.” LGBT Religious Archives. July, 2005, 21 February 2021. <https://lgbtqreligiousarchives.org/profiles/candace-chellew-hodge>.

(13) Barclay (1956), 124.

(14) "Anita Bryant." Wikipedia. 24 February 2021, 03 March 2021. <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anita_Bryant>.

(15)"Call Me Troy." Movie on Frameline YouTube. 2007, 03 March 2012. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RD0h7BNIJI>.

(16) "Call Me Troy." <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RD0h7BNIJI>.

#christian #sermon #bible #progressive christian #love #self-esteem #value #jesus #inclusive #church #pie day #LGBT #LGBTQ

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jaxl-road · 4 years

Text

The League of Extraordinary Rockstars, ch.2

Summary: LA is a hub for music and mutants, making it the perfect place for Motley Crue, Guns N’ Roses, and countless other mutant musicians to call home. But it’s not all easy, especially when it comes to finding a decent place to live. So what better solution than moving in together in the mansion of an immortal? Love, drama, and super powers. If nothing else, it’ll be interesting.

Chapter Warnings: Language, genderswap!Steven

AN: This is a collaboration between myself and @the–blackdahlia! It combines elements from her fic “It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)” (specifically her genderswapped!Steven) and my super powered GnR series. It is completely AU and ignores timelines like Woah, but hopefully you’ll have as much fun reading it as we’re having writing it! Let us know what you think!

~~~~~

It had been a couple weeks since Duff moved in with Slash and Stevie and in that time, he had sat on Slash probably a dozen times.

Stevie had mentioned before how most of the time Slash would camouflage in his sleep, but it was still hard to get used to. He would come home after a double shift and go to collapse on the couch only to land on a very disgruntled guitar player.

“Goddammit, can’t you fucking check before throwing yourself on the couch?”

“Can’t you go to sleep in your fucking room?!” Duff snapped back.

Slash wanted to rip his hair out. He had to grind his teeth together to keep from screaming about the number of times he’s had to deal with a drunken Stevie stumbling into his room to bawl about how she had too much love and too many crushes and they didn’t like her back and she was going to die alone. And because he was a fucking good friend, he would pet her head and try to soothe her until she finally fell asleep and he was stuck with a snoring glowstick lighting up his room.

So yes, he had been sleeping on the couch. But because, and he could not stress this enough, he was a good fucking friend, he couldn’t explain to Duff exactly why.

Living together was turning out to be a hell or an adjustment for the three rockers. Duff had shaken up their routine, giving them an extra person to get drunk with, which made Stevie’s already frazzled emotions even more haywire, not to mention the household hangovers they were suffering through each morning. It was easy with Tracii. He stayed out all night and slept all day, and honestly, Slash and Stevie had kinda felt sorry for him. But Duff was something different, and after one too many mornings of being awoken by Duff and Slash arguing, Stevie exploded.

“Enough!” She yelled at them. “I am going to stay the night someplace else so I can get some fucking sleep before work!”

That was three days ago, and this was the first night Duff and Slash had seen their roommate since she stormed out. Walking into the apartment, Stevie was pleased to see that the two boys looked properly chastised. Granted, their arguing hadn’t improved much during her three day exile, but Slash and Duff figured she didn’t need to know that.

"Hi boys," she smiled. "It’s a beautiful day. Aside from the freak thunderstorm yesterday," She flopped on the couch.

"Thought you moved out," Slash grumbled.

"Nonsense. I just stayed the night at Kelly's."

“Oh thank GOD,” the guitarist practically threw himself across Stevie’s lap, “I thought you were leaving forever!”

Duff shuffled over sitting next to her and looking very much like a kicked puppy, “You were gone for so long we didn’t think you were coming back and we missed you so much-”

“Holy shit you guys,” Stevie shook her head fondly, patting Slash’s head, “I was gone for three days! I just needed a long weekend away from your bickering-”

“He started it!” Two voices snapped simultaneously.

Eyebrow twitching in thinly veiled annoyance, Stevie grit her teeth and continued, “Whatever, my point is I need your arguments to at least be rescheduled to later in the day, alright?”

There was some minor grumbling.

"If you don't, Kelly's looking for a roommate. Or a fuck buddy that gets a free room." She smirked. She knew that would get them to chill out. "Now, I'm hungry. And I'm going to see a show tonight. You guys gonna join me?"

“Of course, but I gotta go to work,” Duff told her. “I’ll see you guys this evening.” He headed to his room to pull on his uniform, something nagging him in the back of his mind. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he tried to focus on making it through another shift at a job he hated.

The three roommates went to their various shitty jobs, each feeling impatient for the day when their music would finally pay the bills and they would have to deal with huffy customers telling them to cut their hair. Needless to say, by the time they reached the Whiskey for the show they were ready to let loose and have some fun. Tonight Motley Crue had managed to snag a headlining slot, Duff, Slash, and Stevie toasting their friends’ success and lamenting their own band’s slow growth in equal measure.

“We’re gonna make it, guys!” Stevie exclaimed, people around her moving away or shielding their eyes as she glowed with enthusiasm. She waved her empty glass excitedly, slurring slightly, “I mean, I mean the crowds have been getting wild for us! And the stuff we’ve recorded is fucking badass! It’s only a matter of time before we start bringing in the big bucks!”

“God, I hope so,” Slash sighed, “this starving artist shit is getting old.”

"Guess you could catch and eat a snake," someone said. Stevie turned and smiled.

"Kelly!" She gave him a hug.

"Hey glowstick," Kelly laughed. "You look rested."

"I am. Thank you." She kissed his cheek.

Duff smiled tensely as he gave Kelly a high five, “Hey man.”

Slash rolled his eyes as Kelly shot him a knowing look, grinning, “Sup guys. Word on the street is you’re having some domestic troubles,” he elbowed Stevie playfully, “This gal was lighting up the place when she first came over.”

“Yeah,” Duff grimaced as he admitted, “It’s taking some getting used to.”

“I can imagine,” Kelly raised an eyebrow. The first night Stevie had arrived on his doorstep he’d had to wear sunglasses as she ranted and raved and lamented about the whole situation, “I mean, you’ve all got annoying ass powers-” he ignored the three offended outcries, “-and you live in a shoebox. Of course you’re stepping on each others’ toes.”

"At least we don't have axl…" slash pointed out.

"Don't have me for what?" Axl said as he approached the group, Baz's arm around his shoulder.

"In our shoebox home," Stevie told him.

“Excuse you, I am a goddamn delight and any house would be lucky to have me!” the singer huffed.

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Baz grinned.

"When you yell, you'd blow down a wall…" Slash commented.

“Fuck you, my control is impeccable!” Axl growled and Kelly raised his hands before a fight could break out.

"Let's get some drinks," he told them. "I'm buying."

"My hero," Stevie laughed. Kelly had an arm around her waist. Izzy was sitting at a booth, which Kelly spotted and brought everyone over to him.

Raising his head, Izzy nodded in greeting, “Hey guys, here to see the Crue?” he gestured at the stage where Nikki was, as usual, on fire.

Laughing, Stevie slid into the booth next to him, “Yup! What are you doing over here all by your lonesome?”

“Brooding,” Axl, Baz, and Slash all answered simultaneously.

Glaring, Izzy huffed, “I was enjoying some peace for once in my life, fuck you very much.”

"Maybe later," Stevie giggles, making Izzy's cheeks burn bright red.

"Their act is lame," Axl rolled his eyes. "Fire again? Really?"

“I mean, you gotta respect their commitment to the brand,” Slash shrugged.

The group downed their drinks, bickering and joking and occasionally remembering to cheer for the Crue. Before they knew it, the set was finishing up, Stevie shining extra bright as they applauded the band as they left the stage.

Izzy glanced between Stevie and Duff with forced nonchalance, “So, how’s the living situation going?”

Shrugging, Stevie answered, “Getting better I guess. Duff’s still not used to Slash camouflaging with the couch,” she snickered.

Duff threw his arms in the air in exasperation, “Gee, I’m sorry I’m used to living in places where you don’t have to pat down every surface in case there’s a hidden guitarist there!”

“Apology accepted,” Slash grinned, the bassist shoving him as he laughed.

“Ugh, I just can’t wait until we can have some more space,” Stevie groaned, “I love you guys, but fuck man, some elbow room would be nice.”

Izzy, Axl, and Baz, nodded their heads sympathetically, their own living situations only marginally better than the trio’s. Meanwhile, Kelly hummed in consideration.

“You could always stay at my place for awhile if you want,” he shrugged.

Stevie giggled, slapping a hand over her mouth when she saw the group squint from her light, “Kelly,” she patted his shoulder, “that’s sweet of you dude, but you live in a shitty studio apartment in the slums. Just having me over was a stretch.”

“No, no,” Kelly shook his head, “I meant my other place.”

Silence stretched as six pairs of eyes stared at Kelly in confusion.

“....What?” Slash finally broke the silence.

“You know, my other place,” Kelly said casually, “the one on Mulholland?” When the stares continued, he furrowed his brows, “Have I never mentioned it before?”

“No,” Duff answered emphatically, “No you have not. What the Fuck?”

“Huh.” It was maybe a little annoying sometimes, but it wasn’t Kelly’s fault he couldn’t remember who he’d told what to. After all, the bassist was more or less immortal, his mutant healing factor fucking with his aging until he found himself stuck as a twenty-something for God only knew how long. So if his memory was a little sketchy, well, who could blame him?

The drugs and alcohol probably didn’t help either. But that was besides the point.

“Well, yeah. I have another place. It’s a house, got like, eleven bedrooms if I’m remembering correctly? It’s also got-”

“Woah, woah, woah, dude,” Baz waved his hands, “Hold up. Did you just say eleven bedrooms?”

“Give or take,” he shrugged.

“So…. it’s a mansion,” Axl stated, voice unnervingly blank, “You have a mansion.”

“I guess, yeah…”

As Axl sucked in a long, deep breath, Kelly realized that he had made a huge mistake.

“WHAT?!” It was honestly impressive how Axl managed to shriek at ear splitting levels without any of his mutant ability coming through. Still, even his human-level screeching had the group flinching.

The singer slammed his hands on the table, glasses shaking as he glared at Kelly in shock and fury, “You’re telling me that we’ve all be living on top of each other in fucking sqalor and this whole time you’ve had a goddamn mansion?”

“Who has a mansion?”

Kelly would give anything for Sebastian��s ability to teleport right now. Because when he turned around, he found the members of Motley Crue staring at him hungrily, and he suddenly felt like he was surrounded by hyenas.

He probably should have waited until it was just him and Stevie before mentioning the house.

"Uh, hi guys," Kelly laughed. "What brings you here?"

"You have a mansion and didn't tell us?" Tommy pouted. "I thought you loved us."

"Dude the 60s fucked my brain. I can't remember shit," Kelly laughed.

"Which 60s?" Vince smirked.

"Yes." Kelly nodded, dodging the question. "So, I'm just gonna go…"

He was half standing when Duff’s unfairly long arm shot out from across the table, palm landing solidly against the back of the booth to box Kelly in.

“Oh I think the fuck not,” he stated firmly, a quick rumble of thunder sounding through the dirty window behind him. The dramatic motherfucker.

“Yeah, you’re not getting away that easily,” Tommy laughed as he and his bandmates dragged some chairs over to sit around the booth, adding another layer of defense to keep Kelly trapped, “Come on man, I wanna know more! Like, dude, if you’ve got a legit place, why aren’t you living there?”

Sighing in resignation, Kelly settled back in his seat and shrugged, “I dunno, I just like being closer to the action I guess,” he smirked, “It gets annoying having to drive twenty minutes just to get some pussy.”

“What, none of your fancy ass neighbors cut it?” Vince teased.

“I mean, there was one dude I used to hook up with, but that was in the… 30s I think? I dunno, all I know is he, like most of my neighbors, aren’t exactly at an age that can… keep up with me,” he winked mischievously as the group snickered.

Slash shook his head, “Dude, I get that, but personally I give fuck all about the age demographic, you’ve actually got a decent fucking roof, man!”

“I mean there’s the commute into the Strip, too, y’know?” Kelly argued.

“Oh no, how will I survive the commute?” Baz whined sarcastically, sticking his tongue out when Kelly flipped the teleporter off.

"It needs a lot of work," Kelly added. "Like weeds and shit and…"

"Dude, we have a gardener," Nikki motioned to Vince.

"And spiders?" Kelly pointed out.

"I'll feed them to my snake...that I most definitely do not have…" Slash's eyes darted to Stevie quickly before glancing away again.

"Can we at least see it?" Stevie asked. "You know how much I love decorating."

"Please no kiss posters in the living room," Mick groaned.

“Why do you hate art?” Stevie pouted jokingly.

Meanwhile, Kelly sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not getting out of this one am I?”

A chorus of “no”s answered him.

Rolling his eyes, Kelly threw his hands up in defeat, “Fine, I guess I can show you around sometime this week. What’s the worst that could happen?”

At that moment, loud, ominous cracks of thunder and lightning rattled the windows behind them. The group snapped to look at Duff in exasperation. The blonde bassist merely shrugged.

“What? Am I wrong?”

#THE PLOT THICKENS #Guns n Roses #gnr #motley crue #Skid row #LA Guns #fem!Steven #duff mckagan #slash #izzy stradlin #axl rose #sebastian bach #kelly nickels #mick mars #Nikki Sixx #tommy lee #Vince Neil #my writing #other people's writing

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dragonotaku-justineverything · 4 years

Note

Plz make part 2 of ruby and Android 18

Long awaited sequel to this ask.

18 opened her dorm door. Just like she expected, Ruby was still there, tied up in the chair. “I’m back Ms. Pervert. How was your alone time?”

Ruby jumped a little at hearing 18 voice. “I-it was okay….c-can you untie me please?”

18 walked up to her. “And why should I?”

“B-because my arms feel asleep…a-an-”

18 leaned forward and pinched her lips together. “Upupup!” The look in 18′s eyes and her lips being pinched closed made Ruby cease all attempts to speak. “Will you be a good sub? And do everything I tell you to? No questions?”

Ruby nodded her head quickly. Anything to be let go for a little bit.

18 smirk undid Ruby’s restraints. Ruby slowly stood up and moved her arms. She ignored the pins and needles as best she could. She turned to 18. “W-where are my clothes?”

“You don’t need them.”

“Wha-?”

“You aren’t leaving yet.” 18 points to a bed behind her. “Lay on the bed, now.”

Ruby hesitates, but does so. 18 didn’t look like she was joking in the least. When she was fully on the bed, 18 made her move. She tied the sheets she’d used to bind Ruby to the chair around Ruby’s wrists again, but tied the other ends to the bed posts. Ruby didn’t even try to struggle, like a good girl.

Now that her arms were mostly immobile, 18 walked over to the corner of her dorm and came back. Hanging over her arms were Ruby’s clothes and in her hands she was holding Ruby’s signature red cape like it was a garrote wire. Only she didn’t use it like one.

Instead, she used it as a blindfold, lifting up Ruby’s head and told her to keep it up. Ruby’s head only fell back to the mattress when 18 finished tying the red fabric in a simple knot in front of her silver eyes. Ruby could just barely see over the top of her makeshift blindfold, but it wasn’t enough to see anything important.

18 threw the rest of Ruby’s clothes at her feet on the other end of the mattress. Then the blonde spoke. “You have already gotten to see me naked two times now, one of those without my permission. You don’t get to look now. You’ll just need to use that perverted mind of yours to imagine, or in your case remember, what my body looks like. Do you remember my big, firm tits that you were so hungry for an hour ago.” 18 took of her purple shirt and unclasped her bra, tossing it at Ruby after she had it free. It landed right next to her head, and to her credit, Ruby barely flinched.

Now that she was topless once again, which was obviously just for her since Ruby couldn’t see anything, 18 locked her eyes on Ruby’s slowly hardening dick. She stepped towards her bed, and flawlessly crawled onto the soft material by Ruby’s legs. She took her place on her knees right between her legs. She firmly put her hands on each of Ruby’s knees before pushing them apart and down against the mattress, giving her unblocked access to Ruby’s now stiff cock.

18 smirked and licked her lips, staring at the member with a little hunger in her eyes. She had to admit, this was pretty hot to her.

She could do whatever she wanted and Ruby would have no idea~.

18 kept her hands holding down Ruby’s legs as the smaller girl shook slightly under her touch and she leaned forward. Her head stopped inches from the pulsing cock. She let go of Ruby’s legs and brought hands up to hold onto her hips instead. Ruby tried to move her legs when they were free, but 18′s nails digging into her slender hips quickly stopped her in her tracks.

Satisfied that Ruby wouldn’t try to squirm, 18 let up on the pressure with her nails. Her smirk grew even smugger seeing her submit like that. Such a good girl, 18 thought she could step it up a bit.

She closed the distance between her lips and Ruby’s cock. With her mouth now right next to the 6 inch shaft, 18 let out a long, warm huff of air at it. As it made contact with the pale skin, Ruby’s cock jolted.

18 almost chuckled when she saw that. ‘She’s still so sensitive from earlier.’

‘Good~~.’

18 positioned her mouth right above Ruby’s begging cock and slowly lowered her head, wrapping her lips tightly around it as she sunk lower and lower until her nose pressed into Ruby’s waist. Ruby almost screamed when she felt 18′s warm, wet mouth wrap around her hard on after so long being teased. Thankfully for her, she stifled it to only a high pitched whine.

18 listened to Ruby’s whine with glee while her shaft got nice and comfortable in her mouth. Sadly for Ruby, 18 wasn’t that benevolent. The blonde dom slowly dragged her lips back up the little reaper’s dick with almost painful tightness. When she reach only the head, she circled her tongue around it as slowly as she could. Ruby seemed to be a big fan of that one as she whined again and clenched her hands into tight little fists.

After a few swirls of her tongue, 18 bobbed her head back down Ruby’s shaft again just like before. However, after her nose hit her waist and she held the cock in her mouth for a few seconds, she released her lip’s seal around it. This let all the spit she had built up in her mouth spill free all over Ruby’s erect cock and balls.

Her mouth now free, 18 pulled her head back completely to look at the damage she’d done. Ruby’s slightly shivering form was now sporting a boner with a perfect sheen of her saliva. It looked so slick it could probably slip into anything at this point.

18 decided to try that assumption out. Before that however, she wanted to taunt her captive a little more for her own enjoyment~. “Look at you. Still so rock hard after hours of no release. I bet it’s almost painful at this point. All of this because you couldn’t help but try to sneak a peak at my tits. Now, you’re just going to have to try and imagine what they look like around this little cock. You’re going to find out just how easily they break pervs like you.” With her mocking over with, and as Ruby quietly whimpered in response and despair at not being able to see what her captor was doing, 18 moved onto her grand finale.

18 lent forward again. This time, she went further and placed her chest right onto Ruby’s cock. Seeing the smaller girls shaft get completely smothered by her large tits made 18 chuckle smugly. She started rocking back and forth and side to side, rubbing her pillows all over Ruby’s crotch, and subsequently driving her insane. Ruby couldn’t help herself as her arms lightly pulled on the sheets restraining them fruitlessly.

18 rolled her eyes at this pathetic attempt to break free. She didn’t reprimand her though.

Instead, she pushed her hands into the side of both her breasts and trapped Ruby’s cock in between them. When she was nice and ready, after waiting a minute or two to watch Ruby struggle some more, 18 began give Ruby the best titjob she could ever hope to get.

18′s breasts were somehow both soft like marshmallows, and yet also firm and tight like her blowjob had been. And Ruby was powerless against this combination. She let out a squeal as 18 started moving her tits up and down along her shaft. The warm, enveloping feeling of 18′s boobs gliding around her cock was the best thing she’d ever felt in her life.

Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

18 showed no mercy or lenience. In fact, she want as fast as she could. Her spit from earlier acted as a perfect lubricant that let her glide along Ruby’s shaft with ease. The light ‘pap pap’ of her breasts smacking against Ruby’s crotch paired with Ruby’s squeals and stifled moans was giving 18 her own form of enjoyment in all of this.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. With being edged and teased, Ruby’s stamina was finally emptied. With one long, high pitched squeal, she finally came. After being blue balled and teased twice, Ruby’s cock finally exploded cum all over herself.

18 didn’t get a single drop on her. The second she heard Ruby’s squeal, she had pulled away. Sadly, it had been too late. 18 frowned in annoyance as she watched rope after rope of thick, cream colored sperm splatter on her own thin stomach and crotch. Though, she was marginally impressed when she saw one shoot all the way up past her own perky breasts and hit her chin. ‘Looks like she’s a sniper in more than one area.’

Ruby had her last few spasms and started to pant to calm herself down. 18 let out a short huff as she watched Ruby’s cock slowly getting softer. ‘Well, guess the fun is over.’ The blonde shifted her legs to the edge of her bed and stood up. She stretched out her neck, making sure she didn’t have any stiffness from her blowjob earlier and moved to her shirt on the floor. Without a word, she put it on and then moved back to her bed to start untying the sheets from Ruby’s wrists.

By the time 18 had finished the second sheet, Ruby had come to her senses again. She moved her face and hesitantly took of her cape blindfold. She stared up at 18, and she looked somewhat annoyed. “Come on. Get up already.”

“W-what?”

“Get off my bed. Get dressed. I’m not doing it for you.”

Ruby sat up and looked down at her cum covered stomach and chest. “C-can I have a t-towel to get cleaned up a-at least?”

18 didn’t waste a second before giving her answer. “No. It’s not my fault you made such a mess of yourself because you couldn’t hold back. Now move it.”

Ruby wasn’t brave enough to argue with her. Instead she just quickly slid off 18′s bed and, after a few seconds to find them, moved over to her clothes on the other end of the bed.

She hesitated, but started with her top to get it over with. Ruby shivered slightly as she felt the fabric stick to her body because of her cum. Never the less, she kept dressing herself, rushing to put on her combat skirt and panties. Next, she bent over to put on her leggings.

SMACK

“Eeeeep!” Before she could pull them up, she felt the harsh sting of a hand spanking her her right butt cheek. She spun around on instinct to face her assaulter, but in a flash she was pinned against the dorm room wall by the 18 by a hand on her shoulder and a knee up between her legs. Ruby didn’t even think to look at the breasts she’d fantasized about earlier right in front of her face and instead looked up and locked eyes with 18, her knees slightly shaking as she did.

18 gently traced her index finger along Ruby’s pale cheek. “Now. If I EVER catch you peeping on me again, your punishment will be much less fun for you.” 18 raised her knee up into Ruby’s crotch aggressively. “Am I understood?”

Ruby nodded furiously, not trusting her voice at the moment. 18 seemed to enjoy her method of agreement. The finger on her cheek trailed down to her chin and scooped up the small trail of cum that had landed there earlier. Still keeping eye contact, 18 brought her finger to her own lips and slipped the tip into her mouth. While she lightly sucked on it to clean it off, she backed away from Ruby to let her go.

She pulled her fingertip out and leveled a stern look at Ruby one last time. “Now get out. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

On shaky legs, Ruby hurriedly scooped up her leggings and cape before quickly making for the door. The entire time she was being watched under 18 stare. Not being brave enough to look back, Ruby simply opened the door and stepped out, closing it swiftly behind her.

Now with Ruby gone, 18 let out a long sigh. She rubbed her head and moved to start straightening up her bed. As she flung out the sheets over the mattress, she thought, ‘Wasn’t expecting my night to go this way. Hopefully she learned her lesson though. I could have easily blasted her to Atlas.’ After she smoothed out her sheets and fixed her pillows, she gently laid down on them to take a breather.

Silence filled her dorm while she laid there. One final thought entered her mind briefly. ‘…It was kind of fun to tease her so much though. And I guess her cum didn’t taste half bad either.’

#rwby #dragon ball z #dbz #crossover #ruby #android 18 #lazuli #ruby x android 18 #ask #non sfw #lemon #anonymous

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