#bureaucracy sounds boring

[bhaalsbabe]

This desk has seen everything

Pairing: gn!durge x Enver Gortash

Label: nsfw

MDNI

Summary/warnings: minor spoilers for durge & ending of act 2, durge is a magic user, inappropriate use of magic (tentacles), sub!Gortash (flashback), weird power dynamic, violent thoughts concerning Orin, pining Gortash, there's not that much smut but I might do part 2

Author's note: writing again after a very long time; nice, supportive comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

When you met Gortash for the first time after losing your memories, you had a feeling he wasn't telling you everything. You remembered the look he kept giving you. You've seen it many times before, often on your companions' faces; the barely hidden desire burning behind the eyes, the longing look that was focused solely on you, the quick glances at the shown parts of your skin. Yes, when you thought back about it, you're actually pretty sure there was more to your past relationship with Gortash than just being partners in crime.

Your curiosity was what led you into his office - alone. You weren't worried about him trying to take advantage of the situation to take Ketheric's netherstone from you. Your magic was more powerful than ever and the powers you gained from the tadpoles you consumed have been awfully useful as well. So you entered the room he resided in with confidence you probably used to have back in the days of your glory.

"Ah, have you taken care of Orin already? You're even faster than I expected." He looked up at you from his paperwork, an easy smile on his face.

"That's not why I'm here," you finished walking all the way to his desk before sitting on it, looking down at him. "You weren't telling me everything back at the coronation, were you?"

He leaned back in his chair, smirking as he eyed your sitting spot.

"Perhaps..." he mused, putting down the quill and focusing his attention purely on you. "I take it you're looking for something specific?"

You nodded, quickly scanning the documents on his table to see if there's anything that would catch your attention. You noticed the name 'Ravengard' on one of the papers but before you could read the rest, Gortash took the entire pile and put it into a drawer.

"Bureaucracy has never been your thing. Why, I can't even count how many times you interrupted me in the middle of something just because you were bored and wanted me for yourself," he laughed with his eyes closed, probably reminiscing of one such time.

"Really? I can't imagine why," you said dryly, glaring at him all unimpressed. Suddenly, he stood up, going around the desk to stand next to you, close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin. As you turned to face him fully, he leaned over you, his arms trapping you in place. When he spoke next, his breath, smelling of expensive wine, hit your face.

"You were a greedy little thing. Always taking, rarely giving anything back." Contrary to the message, he sounded almost nostalgic, a lazy smile plastered on his handsome face.

"You probably just didn't deserve anything in return." You shrugged, noticing how his eyes kept dropping to your lips. He chuckled, tearing his gaze away from your mouth.

"I see you haven't changed that much," he mumbled under his breath, before finally pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. You felt a surge of desire run through you as your brain full of holes supplied you with a brief memory.

The once proud Gortash, naked and bent over the very same desk you were now sitting on. In this memory, you casually lounged in his chair, watching as a variant of Evard's Black Tentacles kept plunging in and out of his ass and mouth, as well as wrapping around his body to keep him from squirming too much. His gurgled moans were music to your ears. His submission to you had always pleased you.

You broke the kiss with a gasp, back to the reality where the same man pushed you onto your back, his hands exploring your body in a starved desperation. His dark eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made you shiver.

"Gort-"

"Enver," he corrected you immediately, not even letting you finish. "Always Enver to you."

You stared at him, the realisation dawning upon you of just how close of a relationship you two had. He pressed his hand to your cheek almost tenderly, and you weren't sure if you were ready for the depth of what exactly he's been keeping away from you.

You pushed him away right then, your head hurting as you tried to remember if you held any feelings for him, hatred and bloodthirst rising in you fast - Orin is going to pay for taking everything from you, you were going to enjoy choking her with her own intestines and bathing in her blood -

Everything was a blur as you ran past him, never noticing his concerned expression as he was left there standing, speechless and way too excited from your little reunion.

#durge x gortash #bg3 smut #gortash x durge #gortash x reader #bg3 x reader #gortash x dark urge #dark urge x gortash #enver gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x reader #Gortash smut #after dark #durgetash

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Could you possibly do these prompts for Natasha ?

23, "Like my name that much, do you..? Moan it then... Moan my name, [insert pet-name]...

27, "Darling... you sound sinfully delicious...

33, "Don't do that... Let me see you."

~🌴 a writer you talk to :)

Hey hey hey 🌴 anon!! Thank you for the request <3 I can absolutely do this. Thank you for your patience! Enjoy 💞💞

Caught and Captured ~Agent Natasha Romanoff xFem Agent!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#23. "Like my name that much, do you..? Moan it then... Moan my name, [insert pet-name]..."

#27. "Darling... you sound sinfully delicious..."

#33. "Don't do that... Let me see you."

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, self-pleasure, implied voyeurism kink, eating out, kissing, teasing, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

The tension on the Quinjet was palpable. One could cut it with a knife…

You, Agent Romanoff, and two other agents were flying back to the Avengers compound from a heated mission. As soon as you landed, Romanoff was nowhere to be seen. You scoffed at the redheads behavior.

“What’s up?” One of your fellow agents asked you.

“Hmm nothing just Romanoff…” you huffed.

You were all handed the paperwork for the mission, meaning your day would be filled to the brim by boring bureaucracy. You grumbled to the other agents along the way about Agent Romanoff and how frustrating you found her.

She had led the mission, and she didn’t ever give you a chance. She didn’t seem to trust you. You were always the one left at the jet, or stuck on surveillance. It boiled your blood. She didn’t respect you.

By the end of the day, you had finally finished the days paperwork. You were tired, and you needed a shower. You made it to your personal room, dropping your things. You didn't even make it to the bathroom, flopping down on your bed, your hand immediately wandering down beneath your uniform pants.

You sighed out in content as your fingers circled around your clit. Quickly, you brought yourself to the edge, more and more not keeping your volume in check. And your mind could not help but revolve around a certain redhead...

As you were so close to cumming, you heard a creak at the door. Your hand jolted out from your pants, and your eyes shot open. Your wide eyes met Natasha leaning against the doorway.

"Darling... you sound sinfully delicious..." Romanoff purred with a wicked grin on her face.

You began panicking, your mind spiraling. Your mouth went completely dry, you were frozen. But Natasha wasn't. She closed your door, making sure to lock it and came over to you. She straddled your lap with ease, making you extremely flustered.

"You were thinking about me, weren't you...?" the redhead cockily taunted.

You gulped and blushed. Hard. You nodded slowly.

"No..." she growled, "Say it."

"I was... thinking of you, Natasha..." you whimpered.

Your words made the woman smirk in wicked delight. She then began grinding done in your lap, making you whimper out even more. Her lips then found yours, and that's when you knew that this woman owned your ass. The kiss got passionate quickly, and pretty soon, the two of you were throwing your clothes off and aside.

Once fully on display, you instinctually tried to cover yourself.

"Don't do that... Let me see you." Natasha cooed, swatting your hands away.

The redhead then situated herself in between your legs. And her hot mouth almost immediately found home in your core. You whimpered and moaned out in desperate pleasure.

"More please more...!!" you moaned.

"Like my name that much, do you..? Moan it then... Moan my name, Detka..." Natasha taunted.

"Please Natasha Please Please!!" You moaned loudly.

"Sound so pretty, Detka..." the redhead wickedly cooed, "Let's see what other pretty sounds I can pull from you..."

The woman then slipped two of her fingers into your aching heat.

God she was going to be your downfall...

~~~

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist

#natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #Agent Romanoff #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romonova #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #black widow x female reader #scarlet Johansson character #scarlet johansson #black widow smut #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fic #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha rostova #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow fic #black widow fanfic #marvel smut #mcu smut

[contentloadingandstuff]

Breaking up with them -Jean and Keqing

Characters: Jean Gunnhildr & Keqing

Genre: Angst

A/N: GN reader in Jean's, Male reader in Keqing's, a passing mention of sex, no comfort. Keqing is quite mean in this one.

Jean Gunnhildr

You knew what you signed up for when you accepted Jean's proposal. Long hours at the office limited the time you two could spend together, and you were okay with it. At first. After three months of seeing her working herself down to the bone, you started taking interest in what she was *actually* busying herself with. You asked the other closest person to her, Lisa. And what you found was... You had conflicted feelings about it. On one side, imagining Jean climbing the rooftops in search of signposts blown away by the wind was quite funny, albeit frustrating. On the other hand, it broke your heart. This was what she was doing instead of taking care of herself? Instead of eating regularly, sleeping, spending time with you?

Another date idea, another promise. Another disappointment. You agreed on hanging out at 9PM on Star Snatch Cliff. You figured it would be late enough for Jean to have finished her work, but not too late to be tired. And Jean, despite having agreed to it, didn't show up. You waited for about two hours before heading back to the town. All of the candles, the bottle of dandelion wine, crackers and cheese you've prepared, splayed out on the blanket, looked like they were mocking you. How stupid you've been, they say, to think that she would come. You were even thinking that yourself. You took a sizable book with you to keep yourself from getting bored. It became a habit of yours when the streak of missed dates reached three.

Before you left for the city, the candles landed in the sea.

The first person you saw in the headquarters was Otto. You inquired about Jean's location, and heard the expected answer. It turned out that she passed out on her desk. Normally, you would scoop her up into your arms and carry her home, jokingly scolding the woman for her behavior. Maybe you would have done that two months ago. Now, you just shaked her gently.

As soon as her eyes met yours, she jolted upright. Her gaze quickly turned towards the grandfather clock in her room. It was well past midnight. She opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off.

"What was it this time, Acting Grandmaster? Fighting some Hilichurls a boy with a sword could handle for a few thousand Mora? Or delivering fowls and berries to the Good Hunter?" You asked, a bit more harshly than you wanted.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I really am. I just got all of these papers to fill, and I really had to complete them, I swear, and one hour turned into two and... and... it came out as it did." A slurry of words came out of her mouth in response. You could tell the tone was apologetic, but it meant nothing. It sounded like she cared, but nothing could be further from the truth. If she really was, she would have at least tried to change.

"Sure, sure. Let me see what the fuss is about." Jean raised her hand to stop you, but you snatched a handful of files from the top of her little pile of shame. 

"Favonius kitchen spendings." You flipped to another page. "Break room damage review. Maid work orders. What is this, and why do you have to waste your time on it?"

Jean stayed silent. She lowered her gaze, feeling a pool of shame in her stomach. There was no answer, really. She had a habit of taking all the bureaucracy she was offered. Jean knows this is bad, you've told her countless times. She promised to change, but it always went back to the starting point. She knew this was her fault.

Seeing her dejected expression, you almost felt sorry for fighting Jean right now, at this hour. Almost.

You still pulled out the wine bottle, and headed for her cupboard. Upon seeing your reflection in the clean glass, however, you halted yourself. Was this really healthy? Are you really going to try again? Isn't this madness, trying something you know won't get the expected results over and over again, hoping to see a change?

Yes, this was indeed wrong.

You went back towards the door, turning to the large flower pot in the corner. It housed a healthy bush of blooming dandelions. It was a gift from you for her twenty-third birthday. Getting these to grow in a pot was a struggle, even for Albedo whose help you enlisted. But after a few months you managed it, and you couldn't have felt more proud of it. It all seemed so stupid now.

In a burst of frustration, or sadness - at this point you weren't sure - you removed the cork (you've already unsealed the bottle to sip a little of the alcohol in order to help you cope with the cold and loneliness hours before) and tilted the bottle over the decoration. Jean watched in horror as the wine poured down to the soil, staining it red. Tears formed in her eyes. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the last year you showed her immense patience and understanding, helped her everywhere you could, comforted her when in need and she couldn't eve find a few hours in her day for you.

"Find me when you finally come to your senses, Jean."

She heard the door click close, leaving her in silence. Holding her emotions in became impossible as the realization dawned on her. She buried her face in her hands, and laid down on her desk.

It was all her fault.

Keqing

Loving Keqing was hard, to say the least. Being the Yuheng came with a lot of responsibilities, meaning little free time usually remained for you two to enjoy. Unfortunately, that 'free time' of hers would often turn into voluntary overtime, leaving you to spend your time alone. It was bearable at first. You met in the morning for breakfast before she scurried off to her tasks, and late in the night to rest together. She made a lot of promises to 'free up her schedule', and occasionally she really did. But the time you spent together slowly grew more awkward as her workload increased. Less and less interactions took place between you. It came down to a few 'good mornings' and 'how was your days', maybe some 'good nights' as well. The long debates about the future, friendly arguments about values, shopping and hiking, were gone. The spark in her eyes when you finally had free time was gone, replaced with a distant expression and a dull voice. Most nights you would just stare at the ceiling, holding your hand on the empty side of the bed to feel any connection to your girlfriend. Sometimes this loneliness would last for weeks. But it was your second month of isolation, and you were reaching a breaking point.

You pick at the food on your plate. On the opposite side of the table sits Keqing, practically inhaling the Golden Shrimp Balls you made her. It was late afternoon, and she had much more things to do. In a rare moment of realization, she took a fifteen minute break to visit you and have a meal together. In her eyes you could see all the thoughts rushing through her brain. None of the considerations were about you, however. Not a thought, even a passing one. She didn't try to spark a conversation at any point. Actually, scratch that. Having a meal together is saying too much. You were just eating at the same table.

Keqing pushes the empty plate towards you, and moves to get up.

"Thank you fo-"

You stand up and grab her forearm, preventing her from running off again.

"No, Keqing. We need to talk." You say firmly, not letting go.

She rolls her eyes, a gesture which makes your blood run faster.

"Y/N, is it really that important? I have places to go. Can't we put this off for later?" She asks, politely, but in a rushed fashion.

"Put off, you say? Put off for when, exactly?"

"For when I have free time, obviously. But that's not now, Y/N. I'm really busy with the Qixing because of the Lant-"

"The Qixing." You cut her off again, much to her frustration. "The Qixing. It's all there is to you, isn't it?"

Keqing relaxes her tug on your arm, seemingly caught off-guard by your statement.

"Come again?" She asks.

"I rarely see you do anything other than sign papers and run errands for Ningguang. You work six hours of overtime every day. On your own demand." You point out.

"Yes, and what about it?" She sounds annoyed now.

"What about it? Well, I get the feeling you prioritize them over me."

She opens her mouth to bite back, but closes it shortly. She tries again.

"That's not true. I do not prefer my job over you."

"Oh really? When was the last time we did something together?"

"We... We made love a few times recently, have we not? Isn't it enough for you?"

What.

She was right. You did. But the sex didn't make up for her negligent behavior, especially that it was so obviously forced. There was no passion, no excitement from either of you, like with your first few times. There was no chemistry between you. She didn't arrange any romantic meeting like you always did. She just randomly came up to you one night and asked, practically demanded it. You fulfilled her wish, obviously, but she didn't look very satisfied. Her mind was clearly somewhere else. As soon as you were done, she went for the bathroom and back to sleep in a span of ten minutes. She needed to get to work in six hours, so she wanted to get any sleep she could. All of this made it feel not like quality time, but like scraps of attention thrown your way.

And she thinks it's all you need from her? You voiced your concerns.

"You think so low of me?"

"Low?"

"Do you think it's all I need from you? Do you think a few kisses will suddenly make up for all of those times you've left me hanging, alone in the cold, because something came up?"

She huffs.

"Building a strong and prosperous Liyue is my dream, and I'm willing to sacrifice my personal things for it."

You laugh at just how selfish she is.

"You don't consider me a party in this scenario? You call me a thing? Oh, and wasn't starting a family one of your dreams, too? You said it a few months back, when we went on a trip around the coast. Have you forgotten already?"

Keqing furrows her brows, but the frown of annoyance doesn't leave her features.

"I want to make this country safe before we do that. These are the basic conditions, you know."

"A basic condition is also having a loving husband who wants the same, is it not?

"You don't love me?" It's the first question she asks, almost instinctively. It's the easiest thing to inquire about, and may give her some time to think of a response.

"I don't think that's the case anymore, Keqing."

Your answer throws her off guard.

"What do you mean?" She asks, now much less dismissive of your entire exchange.

"You feel... like a stranger to me. You rarely spend time with me nowadays. When was the last time you had a free day, during which we could just rest and do something fun? Go shopping, or to the mountains? Where are the long, meaningful talks we used to have?"

She is pensive. Combing through her memory yields no results of any recent rest days.

"I know it's been stale between us, I've been snowed under work, but I promise it's going to get better soon." Her voice is not so firm anymore.

"I'm sorry, but it's been two months. For sixty days you have neglected me. You showed me that strangers are more important than me. What was that hangout with the Traveler about? You can find time for him, but not for me?"

She remembers now. Indeed, she entertained Aether for a few hours, at first for job-related reasons. But it was simply fun being around him and Paimon, even up to the point when she agreed to go have a meal with the two. It ended up taking an entire day.

Her eyes widen as, slowly, the realization dawns on her. She forgot. Forgot about you.

"S-surely you don't want to...?" She asks, hoping to get a comforting response.

"Yes, Keqing. I think it's best we split up here. "

No.

No no no.

"B-but... what about o-our dream? About our family, our wedding, our future?"

"It's not your dream. If it was, we wouldn't be talking about it right now. But looks like you treated this more like a distraction. You treated me as a distraction."

Her heart cracks more and more with every word.

"That's n-not true!"

You let go of her hand and turn to leave.

"So I won't distract you any further. You have a country to run, after all."

Keqing grabs your forearm weakly, hoping, praying to make you stay.

"Don't g-go. Please."

You yank your arm away, and move away from the table.

"Goodbye, Lady Yuheng. Good luck with your work."

You've left the restaurant, and the woman is alone, safe for a few people in the corner. Her title falling from your lips hurt. It felt so cold and spiteful, despite being said so emotionlessly. Her mind raced, attempting to cover everything that would change from now on. Her plan was left in splinters. Since you were now gone, she couldn't propose on top of mt. Tianheng, like she envisioned it. You couldn't get married in the Jade Chamber. You couldn't plan and build your own house from the ground up. And you couldn't have children. You couldn't travel to Inazuma, couldn't have a beach day, couldn't start a garden, couldn't adopt a pet.

All of her dreams involving you just burnt to the ground in a span of merely ten minutes.

Her knuckles are white from how powerful her grip is on her purple dress. Keqing's fingers wrinkle the material as soft tears flow over her cheeks. She stiffles a sob.

Gone.

Everything is gone.

Thanks for reading!

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[callsigndragon]

Desperate times, desperate measures | Ch. 3: Mr. & Mrs. Seresin

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!writer!reader (Most of the times, she will be called Page)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of death, bureaucracy stuff, idiots being idiots, EMMA'S FIRST (and short) APPEARANCE, jake mentions sex once? This is a biiiiiiiig slow burn, man.

A/N: i posted this, but I'm not here lol. small chapter, but at least we have a chapter.

It's okay if you like it and all, but please... a comment is also welcomed and if you reblog it? I'll kiss you on the forehead.

Masterlist

“So you got married recently?” The lady at CPS says, while typing away on the computer. 

You clear your throat, looking at Jake before answering. “Yeah, we were planning on getting married in a few months, and our friends were going to help us organize the wedding, but... They’re not here anymore.” 

The lady, who you think is called Sandy, looks at you with a sorrowful expression. You want to roll your eyes. How can Jake’s plan be working? When discussing how to approach CPS about your rushed wedding, he said to pull the "our friends died" card. And it’s working. 

“I’m so sorry that you had to rush your wedding… I’m sure it was going to be a wonderful event.” She says, turning the chair around once the printer starts buzzing. Once those documents are signed, Emma will be yours. And parenthood will begin as soon as Emma is in your arms. 

“We were going to get married at the beach. It was a beautiful place.” Jake replies, placing his hand on your leg, just inches away from your knee. The contact burns your skin, and not in a romantic way. 

“Oh my god, a beach wedding? It would have been absolutely beautiful, Mr. Seresin.” The woman says, writing a few things on the document before giving it to you. She’s literally swooning over Jake right now. 

Pretty much like all the women you have seen in the parking lot before entering the building. 

“I’m just sad that my pretty…girl didn’t get to have the wedding of her dreams.” Jake continues with his lies and his intentions of fooling the CPS worker as much as possible. You’ve noticed the small pause, doubting about the next unsaid word. It feels like pronouncing the words "his" and "wife" in the same sentence was as hard as taking down an enemy aircraft. 

“I’m sure you’ll get a chance in the future.” She hands you the papers and two shiny blue pens, pointing to the blank spaces where you two have to sign. 

You grab the pen, feeling its weight, twirling it around your fingers, trying to find the perfect position to write with it. It feels uncomfortable, no matter how much you try it. But it’s not the pen that feels wrong. 

It’s you, signing a paper where it says that Mr. and Mrs. Seresin are now legal guardians of Emma Hawkins, who doesn’t feel comfortable. Because once this process is over, Emma Hawkins will cease to exist. She’ll be Emma Seresin. 

That’s all that's left of them. Their surname. And it will be gone. 

Just like they are.

“Well, give me a second, and I’ll bring you your daughter.” Sandy announces with a smile, saving all the files into the folder that is soon stored in a drawer. After that, she leaves the room, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallway. 

“My daughter.” 

You turn your head slowly in his direction, feeling Jake’s words as your own. “It’s our daughter now.” 

“She’s not. She’s my dead friend’s daughter. Not mine.” He clenches his jaw, bouncing his leg up and down, and you wonder if this situation isn’t too much for you too. Maybe they shouldn’t have named you two Emma’s legal guardians. 

“Sorry to break it to you, pal. But once the process is over, she’ll have your name. She’ll be your daughter.” 

“Where the fuck did I get myself into?” He mutters, covering his face with his hands. 

“It was your idea,” you remind him, noticing that you still have the pen in your hand. You leave it on the desk, watching all around the room. They may look after children here, but this is the most boring place you've ever visited. Not even a child-related thing hangs on the walls; there’s only framed certificates and a clock. “I was ready to do this on my own.” 

Jake lets out an airy chuckle, getting up from his chair and pacing around the room. “They wouldn’t let you, you know it.” 

“I could’ve tried. But now I’m married to you for a fucking year.” 

He points a finger at you, leaning a bit over your seated figure. "I will not allow strangers to look after my goddaughter."

You slap his hand away, standing up to look him in the eye. “It’s your daughter, now.” 

“You’re fucking annoying,” he mumbles, stepping even closer and not even once darting his eyes away from yours. 

“You’re a hypocrite. You don’t want her to be adopted by someone else, but you refuse the idea of calling her daughter.” 

Jake clenches his jaw, talking through his teeth. “I’m not a father.” 

You pat his chest, whispering slowly your next words. “You’re a husband and a father now, Jake Seresin. Don’t think you can go around and live your life the way you’ve been doing it until now.” 

He’s so close now that you can smell his perfume. It smells good. It's strange how his entire being makes you want to vomit, but his essence is pleasant. “So what, you want us to play the loving family, invite our friends for dinner, and when they leave, we end up fucking on every surface of the house?” 

You scoff, wondering what the fuck he's on. "Do you intend to do that with your future wife?" 

“I don’t know if I’ll have a wife after this horrible experience.” 

“You better not. My heartfelt sympathies go out to the poor woman who has to deal with your sorry ass." 

“You little–”

Jake's words are cut short when the CPS worker opens the door. You were so engrossed in your conversation that you forgot where you were and why you came here. Did she hear something? Did she hear you say all those things, and she knows that you have lied to her in her face? What are you going to do? 

Your body acts on its own, taking advantage of the close distance you two are at, and you grab Jake by the neck, pulling him down so you can kiss him. Two newlyweds kissing? Yeah, nobody will be surprised by that. 

As if he knew the intentions behind your actions, his hands move to your waist, pulling you close. Playing the part, like he has been doing all day. 

“Oops, looks like mom and dad are having fun!” Sandy says, opening the door entirely with Emma in her arms. 

You can see in her little face that, even if she can’t comprehend what has happened, she knows that something terrible has occurred and that her life is not the same. She seems to have been crying, and her cheeks are still wet. 

“Oh my god, Emma!” You rush to her, grabbing her in your arms and securing her from the rest of the world. She hangs to you, her tiny fists clenching into your clothes. 

It's like she’s trying to hold on and not lose any other member of her family. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Jake walks to you, and Emma’s face lights up, emitting gleeful sounds of pure happiness. Jake might be a player and an idiot, but he loves this little girl more than anyone else in the world. “Oh yeah, I missed you too.” 

“You can take her home now. I wish you the best for your marriage. I know you’ll last. I can see how much you love each other.” 

Jake and you look at each other, raising an eyebrow. 

Maybe you should stop writing and start an acting career.

Once you leave the building, you go back home. Well, what now is your home. Anne and Luke’s will said that you had to live in their house. Gabs is there, waiting for you two. She has offered to take care of her all afternoon while you two go to your houses and get all the necessary things. 

“How are we doing this?” Jake asks, driving all the way to your house. “We can’t pack everything today.” 

You sigh, leaning your head against the window. “I know. And their house doesn’t have room for all my books.” 

“How many books do you have?” 

“More than I can read,” you confess, earning a snort from the man. “Do you read?” 

“When I have time. I don’t read your chick lit romance stuff, so don’t ask me about it,” he says, driving slowly once he enters the street you live on. 

“I wasn’t counting on it.” 

He parks in front of your house, a place that has been a refuge, and now you have to leave. “You want help?” 

You tear your eyes away from the main entrance and look at him. “You offering?” 

“I guess if I help you here, and you help me in my house, we’ll be faster. You know Gabby has stuff to do.” 

You nod, knowing that he’s right. “Yeah, sure. Come in.” 

He turns off the engine, grabs two boxes from the back of his truck, and walks behind you until you reach your doorstep. He chuckles when you open your bag to look for the keys. You turn to look at him, frowning. “What’s so funny?” 

“Never thought I’d see the day you’d let me in your house,” he responds, scratching his eyebrow. “Not after that date, at least.”

“It wasn’t even a date. We never got to the restaurant,” you recall, shaking your head at the thought of that horrifying night. 

“You didn’t want to go out with me, Page.” 

You open the door, enter your house, and turn on the lights. “Actually, I did.” 

“You did?” 

Why does he sound surprised? “Yeah. Luke said so many good things about you. I was interested in getting to know you better.” 

“Miss Page had a little crush on the fighter pilot, huh?” Jake teases, and you grab a pillow and throw it at his head. 

“No. And all the chances of me having a crush on said fighter pilot died when he made a booty call while we were still in the car,” you move around the living room, collecting your laptop and charger and some other things you might need. 

“I must confess, that was a dick move.” He admits, opening the boxes and leaving them on the sofa. “I’ll go get the edibles from the fridge.”

You watch him walk away, feeling bad for him. You two are acting like idiots one second and being civil the next. You've had too many emotions in the last few days. “Jake?” 

He turns around, looking at you. “Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry for being mean to you. You’re having a hard time, like me. And... I'm sorry you’ve lost your best friend.” 

Jake’s eyes shine a bit more than usual, the result of the unshed tears that threaten to fall. “Thank you, Page. I’m sorry for saying all those things back in the office. It’s…this isn’t how I wanted to marry, you know?” 

You nod. Of course you know. “I write romance novels, Jake. I crave the romanticism and the slow burn and falling in love and…” you sit down, letting out an air you’ve been holding since who knows when. “I won’t have that anymore.” 

“In a year, you’ll be free, Page.” He reminds you, leaning over the threshold, arms crossed across his chest, tightening the t-shirt around his muscular biceps. “Just a year.” 

“It’s easy for you to say, but… I’ll be a divorced mom in a year. Who wants to marry a divorced mom?” 

Jake wants to say something that’ll make you have more confidence in yourself and maybe have hopes for the future, but he knows that there are a lot of men that will run away at the thought of you having a baby. It’s not going to be impossible for you, but it would be complicated. 

“You’ll find someone, Page. I’m sure of it.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

“We’ll think about it in a year, okay? Now pack your things, we still have to go to my house.” 

You put all the things you’ve found around the living room in one of the boxes and move upstairs, followed by an uneasy feeling. Maybe you have to enjoy this year. It might be the only opportunity in married life you’ll ever get.

BONUS: Luke and Anne's (Now Jake and Page's) house:

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#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #top gun #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun hangman #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun

[detectivemaker]

Angsty mind control story, or Crowley snake's tattoo takes matters into its own,  non-existent hands

I really am surprised by the lack of  mind control stories in the good Omens  fandom, give me more specific Crowley doing some mind f****** on our favorite chunky angel, so I've decided to write this story

It's day 88 of operation make heaven nice again, and Aziraphale is bored out of his mind

The only real success he's had so far is implementing walls for privacy, but other than that Heavens the same old s*** bureaucracy it always has been, he knows it now it's never been nice, maybe during the time before the great fall,  but the only demon he's acquainted enough with to try  getting back into heaven is absolutely against it

He  let's out a sigh and face plants into his desk  tears prick at his eyes and soon he silently sobs into his paperwork," oh Crowley, I'm such a fool"  he whispers

*if you were here now, I'd go anywhere you take me* he thinks to himself  but before he can start on another set of whimpering cries he feels something wrap around the essence of his true form, the slight feel of scales upon Halo sends him sitting up with a gasp

"w- what" he  stutters out then it's out a grunt when the scales tighten in a loop, to get deep breath he Miracles into existence is Halo and a mirror

His eyes  widen in Surprise when he sees the  ink colored snake rapping gingerly around his Halo,  raising a hand he presses it into the surprisingly scaly flesh of the pitch black serpent

" Crowley?" questions, but no this isn't Crowley, but part of him yes, but not the real him

This sad realization only affects him for a moment before it's cleansed from his mind like water cleanses dirt,   panics at the sun realization that he's no longer feeling sad,   he grasps at his Halo but before he can try to wrench the snake from it a voice rings in his head like Unholy church bells

" don't struggle little angel,  my master misses you greatly,  I'm just here to bring you back home,  now be a good little lamb and let me lead you" the voice that sounds so much like Crowley's since his hands to his lap and a dizzy smile begins to etch itself on his lips

yes that's right, he's been such a foolish lamb,   he has Mosey far from home, but this lovely serpent knows the way back, so he rises to his feet and his leg like the good little sheep he is

,,,

Crowley had been drinking himself blind for exactly 88 days, but still he is capable to see and he sees he is without an angel,   the salty tears spilling into his cup of whiskey make it taste bitter

" emm, Mr Crowle"  Muriel says interrupting the demon's second hour of day drinking this morning, the demons shaded eyes bore into her celestial form but a quickly directed to the person next to her

"an-Aziraphale, what are you... What are you wearing?"  he says slipping down his sunglasses to get a better look at the ugly dressed angel

" don't you like it, I put it on for you" the angel says voice dreamy and eyes hazy,  the angel Santos over and the Bells on his neck jingles as his sheep like tail wags in excitement as he presses a kiss and his lingerie junk on to the demon 

" angel!" Crowley sputters out  he's just about to hesitantly kiss the angel back when a chuckling hiss catches his ear

He looks up to see his tattoo wrapped Vine like around Aziraphale's Halo  and he Sighs in annoyance

"Get off him and get back on here" he orders and snakes slithers from  it's holy perch back to its usual place on the side of his head, the angel blinks and his eyes come back into Focus

" I really am sorry for that, you"  he pauses pushing up his sunglasses to Shield the tears from the Angels vision before continuing," you can go if you want"

" well" a pause from the angel it's only then that Crowley realizes his hands are stained with liquid gold," I don't think heaven would invite me back in after what I did"

"did you?" Crowley asks a mixture of amusement and horror lining his tone he lets out a laugh when Aziraphale  nods sheepishly

" God you're wonderful angel" his   Chuckles pulling the blonde into a hug and sighing into the man's neck as he returns it

" it's good to have you back"

" it's good to be back"

The end

#good omens #ineffable husbands #mind control #ligerie #crowley #aziraphale #muriel #crowley's snake tattoo

[booksandmate]

Episode 6 is so wild cause like it begins with the demons that just won’t go away but at least they can’t enter the shop but then they can and suddenly there are demons discorporating one after the other and then getting kicked with books and fire extinguishers and there are a lot of those cause the fire haha no it’s not funny and meanwhile crowley is in heaven and it’s the silliest he has ever looked but he’s rocking those shiny nails but you can’t relax for long because bang he opens the file like it’s nothing and then we go back to the shop and aziraphale is so fed up with everyone he just takes his halo off his head and fucking explodes them all or something and now there’s war??? so both sides all sides just everyone who was bored appears at the bookshop and starts saying the most middle school fight shit you will ever heard BUT then we get ineffable bureaucracy and suddenly someone can be worth more than choosing sides and angels and demons can be together because they fucking feel like being together and all of this is happening in front of another angel and demon who are as repressed as it gets but aziraphale is giving crowley heart eyes and you delusional viewer allow yourself to think that everything will be just fine and that they finally got it but there’s almost half an episode left and you start to sweat cause that’s a lot but it’s also so little and then BAM biggest son of a bitch of the universe pulls up out of nowhere and wants to talk to aziraphale and you just know it can’t be good and then also the girls want to talk to crowley and there’s so much talking here and there but never between them and suddenly they are together at the bookshop again and they are alone for the first time in the episode and crowley is actually talking but aziraphale doesn’t let him because yeah let’s be honest you don’t expect the love of your life to confess a random day at like seven in the morning and he is so happy because he thinks crowley will love the idea of them together as angels again getting to change things and save the world but crowley hates the idea he is horrified at how little aziraphale knows him as to propose something like that but he needs aziraphale to know that he loves him and i would like to spend mmmh and a whispered just the two of us but nothing lasts forever and both their eyes are filled with tears but aziraphale didn’t mean it the way crowley understood it and it’s all lost and they won’t talk they won’t say what they want AND THE FUCKING NIGHTINGALE IS NOT SINGING and now i have beef with a bird but you don’t even have time to process it because crowley just takes him by his lapels and smashes his mouth into his and it’s awful on itself but it’s also brilliant cause t’s just a desperate attempt to show him the deepness of his feelings as words are not enough and aziraphale is crying and he puts his hands on crowleys back for a second and pulls in and we are the champions starts to sound in a corner of your mind but it’s over before it started and they look at each other and i forgive you and don’t bother and aziraphale is left alone in the middle of the room touching his lips and biggest bitch of the universe makes his appearance again and aziraphale is having second thoughts and he looks trough the window where crowley is and he’s so close to saying no but then he pulls himself together and takes the responsibility as he has always done and crowley waits for him outside of the car giving him a chance to choose him letting him know that it’s not over it’s never over he’s right there and aziraphale actually looks back but he’s determined at this point and so he goes away and crowley gets into the car and she does a horrible job as emotional supporter and plays their song and then he drives away and then the credits start to roll and crowley is on the left and aziraphale on the right and so they are on the wrong sides everything is just so fucking wrong

#anyway im fine #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

The loki show ships just really suck and this is coming from someone who literally ships every enemies to lovers ship to ever exist but loki and sylvie have to be the cringest most boring ship in this trope that I actually can't believe Disney took a relationship between the god of mischief and goddess of mischief and managed to make it so horrendously BORING

Like why does loki have to act like this empty shell of his former self just so they can convince us "he is now soft and in love"?

With that being said i definitely don't mean this as an attack to the shippers they are more than welcome to have fun with this ship but please can they just stop pretending everybody who doesn't ship them is tasteless or doesn't know how to "have fun"

Same goes to lokius fans whose arguments seem to boil down to (Loki doesn't deserve to be in a toxic heterosexual relationship he deserves to be in a toxic homosexual relationship 🥰💕) just have fun with your ships but never write any sort of metas about them ever for god's sake cause they just sound so dumb and it's getting tiring to hold on to this fandom any longer

Ok if you got this far thanks for reading my long ass rant and also Hello, You're one of the few blogs that i came across that doesn't defend this complete assassination of loki's character!!!

The biggest sinners in the whole TV show debacle are the writers. THEY decided to slowly bring down Loki's character progress and dignity, and THEY chose to keep Tom out of the creative process, when he's the one who made a whole career out of the part. I bet he wasn't wholly on board with the direction they were taking Sylvie and Loki. There is no way a man who speaks about a role with such passion and admiration would ever approve of "she's a female YOU! Lol oh that narcissistic Loki could only EVER love himself!"

Thing is, I kind of get why they wanted Loki to get a girlfriend, fan service and all. Loki DID kind of become the underground sex symbol of the MCU. They would've felt pressure from focus group hacks to do SOMETHING with Loki's romantic life if they were going to keep wringing appearances out of him like a sponge. But there were already so many characters they could have worked with, including his WIFE, MISTRESSES, and, oh yeah, a ROLE THEY HAD CAST AND THEN DELETED (Amora the Enchantress), and instead they went with "Loki could only ever respond romantically to himself so let's create a whole new character who has no personality, heart, or anything Loki needs or would be attracted to, and shove her down everyone's throats as Phase Four's Breakout Tragic Romance, which is the single biggest insult that surrounds Sylvie's creation and execution.

At first, I thought the show was going to be a metaphor for horrible systemic treatment of abuse victims via the failing bureaucracy of government. That would have rocked so hard. It STARTED to seem that way. It could have been about Loki standing up for himself and finding vindication through action and forgiveness for those he wronged. He could have even found vindication through a love story if IT HAD BEEN DONE RIGHT! Then they just made it all about Sylvie, Sylvie, Sylvie and how gosh darn wonderful she is.

Also, there was no fun, aside from arguably seeing the other Lokis in the void. Loki's character was always sinister with a lot of angst, but he was also FUN! He had creative costumes and ways of doing things. Tom Hiddleston has amazing facial expressions and scene presence when he's allowed to use it and not shrink back into it. The show should have been much more pleasant and visually engaging to match Loki, but instead, they threw him down a volcano and took what came out as his 'new look' and attitude. I think if he met Thor again, Thor would think Loki was lobotomized, and Thor 5 would be all about the search for proper mental health emergency resourcers (as long as they skipped the screeching goats).

Ah, I love a good rant on a Monday morning! :)

#mcu loki #loki tv series #sylvie #sylki sucks #sylvie sucks #justice for sigyn #loki #loki deserved better #tom hiddleston #kevin feige #MCU Loki

[theygotlost]

The Castle by Franz Kafka, it's SUPPOSED to be recursive and repetitive and boring and frustrating but GOD is it recursive and repetitive and boring and frustrating. This man was a literary genius but I cannot stand this book at all, it's about the absolute failure of real actual bureaucracy basically and I HATE ITTTTTT don't waste your time on it, the book didn't even ever get finished (which I get, it doesn't have a period at the end of the story because it will start all over again but FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) - It's not even a time loop or anything, it's just a cycle of the protagonist walking around and not getting the thing he wants and being sent to walk around some more, JUST TALKING ABOUT IT ANNOYS ME anyway read any other Kafka work than the Castle

i mean that does sound pretty uh... kafkaesque. thats defintely the type of stuff he writes but i can see how frustrating and annoying it would be to read

[prince-liest]

Hi!! I am always in awe at how you are able to translate a character’s voice into the narrative of your writing, not even just in dialogue. Do you have any tips on how to write a character with a personality that’s too different from yours and still keep them from sounding OOC? For example, I struggle a lot to write characters who are shown to be really wise or have a strategic mind since it doesn’t come naturally to me, and sometimes it’s not something I can just google.

Hello! First of all, thank you so much for your lovely words - that's a really lovely compliment and I seriously appreciate it, as character voice in narrative is both one of my favorite things to write and one of the things I find most important to communicate in my writing! Second of all, I'm sorry that it took me over a month to get back to you. OTL Life's been lifing!

As for your question: I have a writing advice post here from 2020 that I think addresses a large chunk of it, so you should go check it out just so that I'm not rewriting a portion of it!

But to expand on it a little further, particularly regarding what you mentioned about characters that differ from your personality: I totally feel you. Particularly with traits that are lauded by society (being smart, being wise, etc) that you feel like you don't have to the same degree as a character, it can make you a little anxious to write them. Honestly, I think a chunk of my ability to do this comes from 27 years of learning how to mask.

However! You have playing field advantage! A really great way to make a character seem particularly skilled at something is to manipulate their situation and environment in a way that highlights their talents. I don't mean this in a "make a problem only they can solve" kind of way - like, as much as I love Legally Blonde, Elle Woods solving the case by knowing how perms work didn't make her look smarter or more skilled when I was so acutely aware that it was total chance that that little factoid happened to be relevant at all and her knowing it has nothing to do with her considerable skill as a law student.

I mean more that you as the writer are the one who knows exactly how a conflict or mystery ends or is answered or can be overcome, so you can give your character the skills or insight to be the one to figure it out. Manipulate things such that whatever skill you do have that fits into the required skillset is sufficient, and then add some pizzazz and emotion to obfuscate! Maybe give other characters compelling reasons they weren't able to do the same, to better highlight the achievement.

Additionally, I think there's a lot to be said for just... skimming over things. Like, you don't need to write every single detail of a character's cleverness or ability to be a manipulative little gremlin or scientific know-how. The trick oftentimes is to write just enough (often by sprinkling in a couple of key facts/comments) that it seems like they know what they're doing and then just showing the results without elaborating further. By doing that, you've shown evidence that the character has that skill, without having to possess it yourself.

As long as you do this with flavor, with emotional reaction, and with personality, it really, really does not read like telling instead of showing. In fact, I would argue that for technical know-how like being a war tactician or office bureaucracy or whatever, showing instead of telling can often be much more boring than quickly saying what a character did and then moving on to the actual juicy character interaction bits.

For example: I am not a horse person, I will never be a horse person, and I know extremely little about horses. I have been on a horse a number of times that I can count on one hand and all of them were more than a decade ago. However, having been on a horse at least a couple of times, and being in possession of a few interesting facts about horses from a friend that really likes them (hey Axo), I can make Geralt of Rivia seem like a competent horse owner without ever having to describe the process of... idk, whatever you call it when you get a horse ready to ride or put it away after. See, I don't even know that much.

I do it by strategically sprinkling in the few key horse facts I possess. Geralt is riding a horse. What do I know about riding horses? I know the basics of what it feels like to ride one, particularly what the different standard gaits feel like. Cantering is super bumpy and it sucks. Galloping is a weirdly smooth ride that almost feels like it's going backwards. That's enough substance for Geralt to have internal opinions on (or for Jaskier to complain vividly about) to make it seem like he knows what he's talking about when his internal narration touches on the process, and I didn't need more than a couple of facts to achieve it.

I employ this HEAVILY whenever I write modern AU Jin Guangyao because I've never been in a corporate office in my life and it fucking shows. I just give him strong opinions on other peoples' competence and pray that people don't notice that I've barely even defined what the company does. Characters having Opinions on something is an easy way to make them seem familiar with and competent at that thing.

Anyway, to summarize:

manipulate the story circumstances to highlight the character

sprinkle in (ACCURATE) key facts and otherwise gloss over the topic you're unfamiliar with

give characters opinions on whatever they're doing

I hope that helps!

#personal #asks #anonymous #writing advice #my writing #long post #text posts

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Ex Libris

Author: marbleflan

Artist: Djedo

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel, mentions of past Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden

Length: 25000

Warnings: Brief depictions of racism and sexism

Tags: mutual pining, established relationship, secret relationship, smart Dean, misunderstandings

Posting Date: October 3, 2022

Summary: Dean and Cas have been meeting up, and hooking up, at the New York Antiquarian Book Fair for going on ten years. Just when Dean thinks they might be able to evolve into something more, Cas drops some news that could spell the end of their relationship once and for all. Will their personal and professional lives keep pulling them apart, or can they make this crazy long distance, cross country casual affair into a commitment worth fighting for? Featuring Dean as a counter-culture bookseller with an encyclopedic knowledge of 20th century duplicating technologies and Cas as a beleaguered curator plagued by library bureaucracy.

Excerpt: “That’s real rich, Cas,” Dean says, his voice sounding hot and defensive in his own ears. “These past few years ain’t exactly been the gravy train for me. Me and Sammy are living as close to the bone as we can. We almost couldn’t afford to exhibit this year—wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for Benny. We can’t all be lucky bastards who luck into jobs we aren’t even trying to get.” For a second, Cas’s eyes blaze brighter, and it looks like Cas is gonna hit back, like they’re gonna have it out. Dean’s ready for it. He’s primed. He and Cas have never fought before, they’ve always had better ways to release tension, but he’s ready to fight. Then, like letting air out of a balloon, Cas just deflates. His eyes dart to the side and then back to Dean’s, and a small, tired smile plays around his lips. “Maybe you should sell the Ulysses,” he says, and despite himself Dean huffs out a laugh. There’s a pregnant pause where they both just stare at each other. “Can I ask you something, Dean?” Cas says after a beat. Dean crosses his arms and gives Cas a tight nod. “Do you think it’s a mistake, taking this promotion? It’s just… you’re right. I wasn’t trying to get this job. When you and I first met, I never really thought I’d get to where I am, a curator. I thought I’d probably struggle for a few years, utterly fail, and end up moving back into my parents’ basement.” Dean walks over to the bed and sits beside Cas. After a moment of silence he reaches over and takes Cas’s hand. Cas has great hands–long fingers, strong and masculine. Dean’s always loved Cas’s hands. “Isn’t this promotion kind of the opposite of failing?” “Maybe there’s more than two options. Maybe it’s not just failure or success. Maybe,” Cas looks down at their clasped hands. “Maybe there are some things you have to decide to choose.” Dean swallows, painfully aware that he’s not something Cas has decided to choose for himself.  “Just because something is unexpected doesn’t mean it’s the wrong thing,” Dean says. “If we could plan everything, control everything–I don’t know man. Sounds pretty boring.” This time when he winks, Cas sees it and it draws a shy smile to his face.  Cas leans forward, and effortlessly, without any conscious thought on his part, Dean meets him halfway. They kiss. It’s slow and thoughtful. Intimate. It feels like something they’ve done a hundred times before, although Dean would swear they’ve never kissed quite like this before. Never this sweetly. Never this deeply. 

DCBB 2022 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2022 #fic preview #2022 promo #deancas #destiel

[thatonebirdwrites]

Vigilante Work

Prior installments: Romance, Maroon and Blossoms, AO3 link: Is This a Romance?

Asami has always wanted to be a vigilante, but until she'd met Korra and the brothers, it has always been just that a dream.

So when Korra suggested they head out and defeat Equalists despite it very much being against the government's wishes? Heck yeah. Asami, after that failure with Naga, even offered to drive. She's quite proud of how she sent her satomobile flying into a mech to blow it up. How satisfying.

It is so thrilling that when Korra again asks for her help -- this time to save her father and inadvertently cause a Civil War -- Asami immediately says, "Yes please" with no hesitation. She even crashes two planes for Tonraq, she is proud to say.

Is it any wonder she built the airship, gives it to Korra, joins her on the grand adventure to bring back the Air Nation, and then fights to save her from Zaheer? Vigilante Asami will not let Korra die if she has anything to say or do about it.

Now she sits in her boring office, staring at a mountain of paperwork, and wondering why her life has come to this. She has been a vigilante, a force for good and harmony, and she is poring through the notations of her company lawyers, after a lengthy meeting with them, and signing only the necessary documents to file a suit against yet another of President Raiko's annoying machinations. He seems determined to make her progress with her engineering forums and homeless shelters costly.

She ponders how a vigilante would handle this. She knows what Korra likely would have done. Given him a good punch or four. Asami would, of course, be at her side.

That isn't the answer here, despite how badly she wants it. She glares at the offending documents, and considers whether she should take a vacation for a month or ten. She hates politics and bureaucracy. She simply wants to create and build good things.

A knock sounds at her door, and Asami is tempted to toss her empty teacup at the door. She has no idea who it is since her assistant would not be knocking like this. So who could it be?

She glances at her calender, but there's nothing for the rest of the afternoon. Not that there would be. She has it blocked off to wrestle with aggravating paperwork.

When the knock sounds again, she marches to the door and pulls it open, ready to give her assistant a good talking to for not screening out people.

Only to come face to face with Jinora. Startled, she takes a step back and waves her hand at her office. "Jinora, what are you doing here?"

Jinora is wearing the wingsuit -- not the misguided attempt at unlocking chakras suit, no that one is hidden deep underground in the sub-basements of the mansion under lock and key -- but the one Asami has made for the Air Nation. Her hair is windblown, so likely she's flown straight here.

"I... I wanted to ask you something big, and I totally get if you can't say anything!" Jinora shuts the door behind her.

"Of course." Asami leads her to the sofa at the far end of her office. That's when she realizes it's late, way late. In fact, sun is setting late. No wonder her assistant didn't warn her. Tariq heads home promptly at five for dinner, and calls in to verify if she's left at seven.

Jinora remains standing. "Um. You've heard about Kuvira, right?"

Asami settles on the edge of the sofa. "Odd things, yes." This is her way of trying to be diplomatic. She knows Bolin is working for her, despite Asami's attempt to convince him otherwise. She also knows Kuvira's train system, which Asami has reluctantly assisted in building Republic City's portion of it, has helped bring the Earth Kingdom together like none other.

But Asami doesn't like Kuvira. Something about the woman irritates and unnerves her. She only gives Kuvira the time of day because of her rescuing Tonraq's life. Beyond that, she would love to wash her hands of the woman.

"I think she's funding the bandits." Jinora starts to pace. "Opal and Kai got back recently, you know? And they shared how the town struggled to get food. That bandits had been attacking for months. Then Kuvira pulls up in her train! Tries to pressure the mayor to join her. He refuses."

Asami watches Jinora with a slight frown, while she struggles to follow her story. Her words are mashing together with more and more speed.

"Opal and Kai offer to get food. But they're attacked by bandits on planes! And they're way skilled! Opal said she felt certain they'd had military training, and the plane was in excellent condition. Newly painted."

Asami stands and grabs Jinora's shoulders. She is a bit lost at this point. Something about newly painted plans and military training is all she caught of the last bit.

"Jinora," she says gently. "Please sit down. Panicking won't help us." She leads Jinora to the sofa and pushes her down. "Let's take a moment to breathe, okay?"

Jinora nods. "Right, right." She breathes with Asami in the same breathing pattern that Pema had once taught Asami not long after Asami's father had attempted to murder her (Pema had taught her after Asami broke down crying while washing dishes with her, and Asami has used it often to stave off panic since then).

"Better?" Asami lets her go and sits down next to her.

Jinora nods. "Did... you get all I said?"

Asami holds her hand up and flips it up and down. "More or less. Do you have more stories like this? Moments the Air Nation tried to help only to be thwarted by bandits right before Kuvira comes to the rescue?"

Jinora nods again.

Asami is prepared. This is the stuff of vigilante's. She holds up a finger and rushes to her desk. She digs through a few drawers until she finds an old map she kept mostly because Korra had drawn random things on the margins while waiting for Asami to finish a project. They had planned to go investigating the spirit vines that particular day.

In fact, that drawer holds every piece of paper -- no matter if it was scrap paper -- that Korra has ever written a character or doodled upon. It's a trifle embarrassing really, but Asami keeps the drawer locked when she's not in the room for a reason.

She pulls it out, examines her walls, and decides to just tape it to a window. She chooses the one closest to the sofa, but not the one that she has specially made for when Korra returns. Who knows, maybe Korra would want to enter a window to surprise her? Best to make it so it's openable from both ends.

"All right. Let's mark each incident." Asami grabs a marker and gestures to Jinora.

Jinora looks much calmer now that she sees a plan forming. She stands and starts pointing to various spots on the Earth Kingdom map. Asami marks each one until Jinora ends with the latest infraction.

Asami steps back and caps her marker. There's gaps in the data, partly from the Air Nation being spread so thin, but it's far too obvious now that Jinora is likely correct. Every time bandits interferes with the Air Nation, Kuvira steps in, and that sector of the Earth Kingdom joins her initiative.

"That is not good." Asami puts her hands on her hips and glares at the offending map. This is almost as bad as her paperwork. "Forcing states to join is vile." She taps the marker against her bottom lip. "I think we need an analysis of the bandits' forces."

"So you have a plan?" Jinora asks hopefully.

Oh. Is that why Jinora came? Asami is pleased that Jinora trusts her to come up with plans, but in all honesty, she has no idea how to deal with this. Politics is not her wheelhouse. That's engineering and maybe being a vigilante.

Does Jinora need Asami to crash a few planes for the Air Nation? Asami finds such a thought thrilling, even though there's no real reason to waste a plane on such an endeavor, and she's more than capable of not crashing it.

Being an engineer, fixing things is her lifeblood. Building something as perfect as possible to avoid explosions and other potential problems is her specialty, and partly why she's a bit obsessed with pouring over designs and testing their products before they hit the market. She must make sure they are perfect.

So to have a chance to join Korra or the Air Nation in a destructive moment for a good cause? It flies against all of Asami's instincts, gives her a sense of wonder, and for a moment, Asami can pretend to be someone else. Someone not so obsessed with building and repairing everything to perfection. To experience the thrill of adrenaline at the epic explosion caused by her. It's a relief to let her important responsibilities go for a little while.

"Too bad I can't go full vigilante and sabotage her train," Asami says, mostly to herself. Flying a plane into the tracks could do that however.

"Some villagers tried that. They vanished," Jinora says, uneasily.

Asami turns to stare at her. "What?"

Jinora rubs the back of her necks. "Yeah, Opal, Kai, and some of the other teams keep hearing stories of people speaking out against Kuvira and then they vanish. Most claim its bandit attacks, but..." she taps her fingers against the map.

Asami presses a hand against her temple. She wishes Korra is here. Her hand drifts to her pocket and pulls out Korra's last letter to her. The one where she promises to return to Asami. Has Korra found the Avatar spirit yet? Asami reads through the letter for the millionth time, only to tuck it away with a sigh.

"What's that?" Jinora points to her pocket.

Asami blushes. "Uh. A letter."

"From Korra?" Jinora looks excited. "You've heard from her? Maybe she can help!"

Asami sighs. "Jinora, this letter is five months old. I also can't say where she is or what's she's doing. Promised." She looks at the map.

"Wait." Jinora narrows her eyes. "Wait, she writes you? Tells you where she is?"

"Did. Though we exchanged a few letters before that."

"What?" Jinora jumps up and down. "Asami! Why didn't you say something! Korra hasn't written anyone and then she only writes you?"

Asami shifts from foot to foot. "Jinora, it's hardly proof that she feels the same." Asami wonders if perhaps her tearful confession in the meditation pavilion ten months prior is a mistake. She has not calculated in how excited Jinora would be at these crumbs, almost as much as Asami has been.

Being an engineer, Asami relies on data, and three letters, no matter how Korra signed them or the content of them, is not enough data points to prove conclusively that Korra is in love with her. This is why Asami has told no one except Jinora her feelings for Korra, and Jinora only learned because out of all the people in her life, the younger girl is the only one who consistently talks to Asami.

"Right." Jinora gives her a disbelieving look. "Only writes you. Only tells you what's she's doing."

"We're best friends," Asami protests, weakly. She thinks of how Korra had signed the last letter with love, while the others had been signed with yours. She wishes she knew for sure what that meant.

Jinora gives her an exasperated look, her hands on her hips. "Asami."

"Jinora." Asami crosses her arms. They have done this before several times, mostly when Asami confesses to feeling alone or friendless. JInora then gets all exasperated and says her name as if Asami is the silliness person on the planet. Asami suspects that Jinora is quite right, but she will never admit it.

They hold the standoff for a bit before Jinora gives in and turns back to the map. "Dad was a bit dismissive of Opal's story. I think this would convince him we're right. Especially if he knows you helped me. He respects you a lot."

This startles Asami. "He does?"

"Asami." Jinora gives her that exasperated look again.

Asami manages a rueful smile. She will give Jinora that much.

"He's worried about Korra too. Everyone is I think. Do... do you think you can give me a clue? I promise to not tell anyone it was you."

Asami frowns. "I promised, Jinora."

"But what if we need her?"

"Korra promised me she'd return to me..." Asami realizes how that sounds and turns to the map. "I mean... when she is ready to return, she will." She knows without looking that Jinora is not fooled, especially with that exasperated sigh. The third one that hour! Asami has definitely broken a record at this point. Jinora is never going to let her down.

"So, about this?" She gestures to the map, in hopes of changing the subject. "Do you need assistance on how to handle?"

"Can I take this to Dad?"

Asami hesitates. Why did she have to use the one that Korra has drawn on? She ponders the dilemma, then goes to her desk and grabs scissors. She cuts off the Northern and Southern Water Tribe portion of the map, where most of Korra's doodles are located. These she carefully tucks back into her desk.

Except her hand brushes up against a carefully hidden stack of letters. Ones she has refused to open. The ones from her father. Asami yanks her hand out as if scalded and shoves the door closed. She keeps her back to Jinora, and breathes the way Pema has taught her. In through her nose, and out through her mouth. She is safe here, her father is in jail, and it is unlikely he has means to make an attempt on her life again.

"You okay?" Jinora lightly touches her arm.

Asami sighs and manages a smile. She'll have to deal with her father, which she'll do tomorrow. "I just... got reminded of a painful personal thing, that's all."

"Your Dad?"

Jinora is perceptive as always.

"I recall not telling you he's writing me," Asami says with a frown.

"Oh, he's writing you? Wow, that's worse than I thought." Jinora looks worried.

"Wait." Asami is very confused and a bit lost. "Then how did you guess?"

"Personal thing always means your father," Jinora says as if this is a fundamental theory of the universe.

Asami is a trifle frustrated that she's that transparent. Or maybe more accurately, Jinora is far too perceptive than she has any right to be. Frustrating.

But at the same time, it warms her to know that she has a friend that isn't just Korra (and maybe Mako and Bolin if they would actually stay in contact, but then men aren't known for being that thoughtful).

For some reason, this gives her a rather ludicrous idea. "Jinora." She turns back to the map and looks it over. "There's a region that Kuvira hasn't hit yet." She circles Zaofu and the province next to it. Not far from that region is another one that has no known villages -- it's the Foggy Swamp. She feels pulled to that region, as if it is important. Crucial almost. Along its edges are several towns. She circles them as well. "I don't think she'd bother with the Swamp, but..."

She looks at Jinora and wonders what she can say. For Korra to not be found or seen by anyone in the last six months, she must be traveling incognito, but even then, there would still be sightings of look-alikes. She's not in the North or South. Asami is fairly certain of this based on her own quiet investigation (she can't help it. Her worries for Korra's safety gets more intense with each passing month), which leaves the Earth Kingdom.

Or rather the area of the Se Wong Desert or Foggy Swamp. She wants to tell Jinora to start there, but she can't. She promised Korra, and this would be a direct violation of that trust.

So instead she writes a character near the Foggy Swamp, one she hopes will give Jinora a clue. Untaping the map, she rolls it up and hands it over.

"I suggest we wait for Kuvira to show her hand. She will at the coronation. When she does, the Air Nation will need to act fast. I will assist in what ways I can, such as provide any technology you may need. I suggest doing patrols to search for any evidence of missing people. I also suggest tricking Bolin."

"Tricking Bolin?" Jinora says, confused.

Asami nods. "Don't reveal the plan to him. However, all you will need to do swap his jacket and belt. Stop by after the coronation and I'll give you his new jacket and belt."

"What's special about it?"

Asami rubs her hands together, gleefully. "I figured out a way to make a small recorder! It'll record what he hears. Though battery is an issue." She taps her bottom lip. "Hmm. I'll install three battery sources. We only need enough to catch him talking with Kuvira. And if Kuvira goes full on evil, I don't believe he'll stay with her. He'll want out. We can retrieve it from him then. Should give us insight into her next move."

Jinora's eyes widen in amazement. "I knew you'd think of something!" She bounds forward and wraps Asami in a hug. "I'll do just that!"

Asami pats Jinora's back. She has no idea if this plan will work, and in all honesty, she suspects it won't. That isn't the point of it however. If it helps relieve Jinora's worries to have a plan -- no matter how ludicrous -- then Asami can provide that.

Plus, she's always wanted to do a field test. She's positive that Bolin will get a kick out of being that field test, once he comes to his senses and leaves Kuvira's team.

This gives her another idea. One that is definitely petty.

It involves dressing in all black with a face mask and egging President Raiko's home. Juvenile, maybe? Yes. Satisfying? Also, yes.

Besides, that's what vigilante's do. Stunts to make the powerful understand their power has limits, and it's been awhile since Asami has been a vigilante. She thinks she deserves this. Especially if she has to visit her father tomorrow.

She'll buy the eggs as soon as Jinora heads out with the map.

#korrasami #legend of korra #tlok #asami sato #avatar korra #the legend of korra #asami #korra #korra x asami #writing #jinora #Book 4 shenanigans #Asami's plan might have worked if she had thought of it before Opal encountered Bolin #Jinora sees Asami as her older sister and that's my headcanon and no one can convince me otherwise #Convinced Asami has a love of high risk and thrills but will never admit it out loud #Jinora is totally Team Korrasami #I'm convinced Asami has a mischievous streak just look at how she convinces Tenzin to leave so she can talk to Korra alone at the wedding

[redburrowrights]

I'm bored, so I guess I'll scream into the void about things I don't like, since this is the Internet after all.

This will be about star wars. Feel free to skip this if you don't wanna hear me complain about star wars stuff. Also, if I say something you disagree with, that's fine. I'm not one of those people who thinks everyone needs to agree with them.

So... Disney star wars has been pretty thoroughly torn apart, but there's one shining golden child that people seem to love, and that's Andor. And I... Don't really like it.

Let's start with what I like.

The show looks and sounds really good, no complaints on the music or visuals, it's all very nice.

And the Mon Mothma sections are very well done. They're all very tense, with her needing to navigate a dangerous political landscape, figuring out who she can trust, while also dealing with family drama. It's very well done, and really makes me wish we got a Mon Mothma show instead.

Now... The rest of it.

The show is really boring, first off, and that's not because of the slow pace. A slow pace is fine, and can be very effective. But the issue is that the show fails to invest me in what's happening, and so I don't care about the building tension or characters developing. So I'm simply left bored.

Andie himself jumps from place to place, never actually being invested in what happens around him. He runs from the cops, but those cops get fired an episode later and aren't relevant for the rest of the show. He joins the rebels, and you think that this must be how he becomes a freedom fighter, but nope, an episode passes and everyone dies and he leaves. Then he gets arrested. But not because he just helped a terrorist cell rob a military base, no, that would actually leave the story with some form of cohesion. It's just because he was near the scene of a crime. Sure, I believe the empire would arrest random people without due process, but we don't need to be convinced the empire sucks. We know they're the bad guys. Just make the plot connect so I might actually begin caring, even in the slightest.

But now he's in prison. What happens there? He befriends Andy Circus, immediately breaks out, and Andy Circus does because he can't swim, and the prison is in the ocean. So we're right back to where we were, with these episodes accomplishing absolutely nothing. Great storytelling there. If this was supposed to make him realize he can fight the empire, it was completely unnecessary. He already hated the empire, and he already fought them with the rebels. Why would any of what just happened make him suddenly want to fight, but nothing else he went through would? It's all just filler.

I should mention. I had said that after the cop got fired, he's no longer relevant to the story. That's true, but it doesn't stop him from being in it. Periodically, we cut back to him. Sitting at home, eating cereal, being berated by his mom. This adds nothing to the story. I already know this guy's deal. He wants to capture Andor, he's disgraced after being fired, he hates his mom. I get it. Have him actually fucking do something, or stop showing him. It's all padding.

There's two other subplots. One has to do with an imperial officer, trying to track down Andor. Her scenes are fine, but once again tend to drag a bit after a while, as she gains very little ground throughout the first season. This is effective at conveying the bureaucracy she's dealing with, and what she's cutting through to get things done. But it gets tedious to watch. It's not bad, but is a bit of a double edged sword. Not much else to say, I just hope she actually gets to do things in the next season.

There's also rebel who recruits Andor. He's pretty neat. He owns a antique shop on corocaunt, and gets to play into the Mon Mothma stuff which is good, since that's the best part of the show. He also gets a cool speech at one point, which is nice. But he also gets to be in an embarrassing scene with one of the dumbest ships I've seen from Star Wars. It's a star destroyer with three satellite dishes to use for tractor beams. The writers apparently forgot that normal star destroyers have perfectly capable traction beams. I'd assume the one on this ship is stronger, but it comes with a massive, difficult to protect, and easily destroyed weak spot, which is shown off in the episode. Also, if the dish is imiting the beam, then it appears to be a single directional use. That would make it difficult to dock with trapped ships, defeating the point of a tractor beam.

But that's just one really stupid ship, and the rest of his screentime is alright, so I guess this subplot is alright, if a bit uneventful. He spends most of the show hanging out in his shop, waiting for news.

Overall, I wouldn't call the show terrible. It's definitely not the worst Disney has put out for this franchise, and not even close to the worst Disney Plus show. But I keep seeing it touted as "the best star wars ever" and "the show saving star wars", when it's just kinda meh. It was pretty bland and forgettable for me, and I guess I just needed to vent, since it sometimes seems like I'm the only one with this opinion. Thanks for letting me shout into the void about a show I don't like, I'm a franchise that's very dear to my heart.

#star wars #Andor #star wars andor #critique

[thefoundationproject]

I've been doing a deep dive the past few days and reread the entirety of Soft Wars and am now making my way through all of the delightful spinoffs. It's been amazing and my mind is blown all over again at your amazing world building skills. This time around though, I can't get this one section from "The New Genesis" out of my head:

"Fox was bred to be a battlefield commander. What the Republic wanted was a guard dog, a security officer, an errand boy. Fox has spent the past four years developing reflexes completely different from what he’d been trained for, to fit the mold the Republic wanted.

The Chancellor throws a brother past Fox, arm dismissively outstretched, flashing by Fox’s face.

Fox slaps a force-suppressing cuff closed around the wrist."

Hopefully this inspires a spinoff plot bunny for you, but what would've happened if Fox had done that Day 1 as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard? I would love to see it with your sense of humor and grasp of characterization, but this has been what's living rent free in my brain the past few days

It's still only Day 1, so Fox still has will to live and doesn't even have the beginning of a caff addiction yet. He still has the patience to fake being nice to kindly old Chancellor Palpatine as he's explaining all of the security measures they have in place to protect him.

Palpatine is bored out of his gourd and having a hard time taking this security briefing seriously when he knows damn well he'll always know of any danger to him well before these mindless meat-droids ever will. So he throws in a casual question about what they would do in the case of a rougue force user - never too early to start casting aspersions on the Jedi after all! He wasn't expecting Fox to kindly demonstrate how quickly he can pull out his force-surpressing cuffs by clasping them around his wrists. And Fox certainly wasn't expecting for the karking Chancelor of the kriffing Republic to then collapse and look up at him with burning Sith-yellow eyes!

The funniest part of all of this to me is The Paperwork. Because Fox is new so he doesn't have all those responsibilities that have been shoved at him over the years, so in this moment it is not his job to write up this report. But is it Senate Guard jurisdiction? Sounds like a Jedi problem. But really, it was the GAR that made the discovery! But it happened on Senate grounds and the GAR would hate to step on SG jurisdiction. But the Jedi council will be called to brief on the senate floor so if they're already making the Spowerpoint- oh no no no the Jedi wouldn't DREAM to speak to the upstanding Commander’s achievements-

Just .... bureaucracy hot potato, where Fox et al are more and more pointed with each spacemail response.

[nighthawkes]

Ok now I’m interested in boring guy. Funny little man. Shaking him in a shoe box with holes in its lid so he can breath. I noticed that some of his tagged posts shares a tag w business casual though 👀 bureaucracy as camp?? Elaborate for the peasants please

this is so exciting, okay:

Yes!! He’s definitely an office worker of some sort so he winds up in my business casual tag too sometimes. I think whatever he does, he doesn’t get paid, he just showed up one day and started working.

Bureaucracy as camp! So “camp is an aesthetic style and sensibility that regards something as appealing because of its bad taste and ironic value” (Wikipedia) is what I think of when I say "bureaucracy is camp to me."

Little business men and women dress up in their special Professional outfits and gather in groups to do special Professional things like discuss quarterly reports and client dossiers and market research findings. And they jump through hoops to impress people who’ve never had to do the work they’re doing. And they’re sending emails and memos and attending working lunches and “putting it on the company card.” And they’re all treating it sooooo seriously even though all of that shit sounds completely fake and/or pointless.

It’s that tweet that’s like “‘Business school’ sounds so made up. It’s what a kindergartner would say if you asked them where dads go all day.”

I think that American corporate professionalism and business culture is appealing because it’s lame and beyond ironic.

If you've ever seen any posts on here about resumes or office culture or adult etiquette, you'll probably know that of course officespeak and bureaucratic norms have their place in the world for a reason. They function as a common ground/language that people of different backgrounds can use to get work done cohesively (in addition to functioning as a tool of elitism/racism in a lot of ways). Theoretically though: You dress in suits to show respect for clients, coworkers, and your job. You say things like "circle back" to politely give people time to get their shit together. You participate in certain company activities to be a good sport and to build good will with your teams. And these things are valuable for the purposes they serve!

I'm obsessed with the idea of a guy who naturally and perfectly shapes himself to fit these language tools/norms and does so wholeheartedly because he thinks they're what's real. Rather than seeing norms as signifiers, he places the value on them at face value. He's not dressing in a suit to show respect or to fit in or out of a personal sense of fashion/enjoyment—he's doing it to wear a suit. And it isn't begrudging or thoughtless or anything but straightforward.

And I feel like tech bros and American corporate culture in the wake of what I generally know about 80s economic shifts have adopted this sort of serious idea that the business world is the real world. The Kendall Roy archetype. Patrick Bateman and that guy on the bus someone tweeted about who said he'd never seen American Psycho because he's too busy trading. Those types of guys.

So boring guy is like those guys but less emotionally fraught. He's not doing it for a power trip or a sense of superiority or to feed into his daddy issues (of which he has none). He's doing it just to do it.

And that's extra camp to me. The idea that the business world and anything it produces is real or more valuable than most other things—believing that—is camp to me by the Wikipedia definition. And I absolutely love projecting that onto the most bland guy imaginable.

He's no thoughts, head empty. It doesn't occur to him to have hobbies. You'd have to Sever him to give him anything close to a personality beyond "business" and even then his innie persona would just be like "hmm, I wonder if my outside personality is being as efficient as possible. Probably, since he decided to make me." and "Rewards for productivity? No thanks. I'm just here to work. I try not to keep track of metrics like that."

I also like the Merriam-Webster definition:

1. a. : something so outrageously artificial, affected, inappropriate, or out-of-date as to be considered amusing

#boring guy core #there’s overlap with characters like Colin Robinson and the very real caricatures of business people we see on Succession #any office worker from popular media I've probably osmosed a little bit. 90s stuff especially but like. with less misogyny. #but he’s his own guy. to me. #my precious little snooze fest. he's fun to write about but reading this back i'm like lol. he's living up to his name.

[allthepeculiarthings]

so when i first watched star wars, i was a child and basically most of it was my dad sitting me down in front of the tv and forcing me to watch them.

when i was a child, i didn't have any media literacy (obviously. i was like seven). i found the action scenes and the cgi boring as hell, but i thought hayden and natalie were the most gorgeous people i'd ever seen in my entire life so i loved the movies.

anway now that ive returned to them over a decade later, its just wild to me how much i can recognise the elements of the prequels in my own life in 2023. mostly this comes down to the political climate and the characters.

the seperatists vs the republic

i mean come on. its literally just brexit.

the eu is corrupt and it has major flaws and senseless policies but a lot of good also comes from the eu. and at this point, i really wouldn't be surprised if england was secretly following the orders of a sith lord.

not even to mention the war in ukraine. ive said it once and im gonna say it again, bureaucracy is one of the biggest evils in the world and it literally enables every other evil in the world to take place.

in my life, i have an aunt who wholeheartedly believes that putin and a lot of other russians are evil, and then i also have a father who says that putin is only defending russia, and a mother who believes that trump did america a whole lot of good, but who also believes we should move back to china, and friends who tell me im evil for drinking pepsi because we're supposed to be boycotting israel.

basically, i have a lot of people i hold dear and who i love in my life telling me a whole lot of contradicting questionable stuff about morality and the current political climate. sound familiar?

so yeah i really do understand anakin's frustration and confusion with bureaucracy and the senate and jedi council and all that because i literally also feel it. i also don't know what the solution to all these problems are, and i also have no idea what i'm supposed to do really, and oh boy wouldn't it be convenient and soothing if someone you trusted came out and said he had a solution to fix it all?

(i understand WHY anakin decided to just give up control to palpatine. that being said, that doesn't mean i agree with it lol. we're anti facist around these parts. )

2. the characters

seeing anakin's terrible dramatic edge lord behaviour is literally just some of my other friend's behaviour on the big screen.

like i've also had white boys who's morality is suspiciously right-leaning confess their undying love to me. more than once!

i also have white girl friends who excuse their (also white) boyfriend's strange jokes. and by strange jokes i mean sexist, racist, homophobic jokes.

white male teenagedom is a very troubling breeding ground for bigoted views and their girlfriends excusing it (cough padme when she didn't even care that anakin was a literal mass murderer) doesn't help.

anyway just my thoughts on how the prequels relate to my experiences specifically.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #peculiar things

[rametarin]

The beauty of nuance, and long form responses.

This is a post where I reaffirm how much I love the freedom afforded to write out all of my thoughts.

Verbal discussion is more difficult, especially when one considers the emotional state of the person on the receiving end that has to listen. Sometimes, when one thinks they have a good handle on the subject and does not want to hear something that challenges it, they'll consider oppositional points to be heresy or apologia for wrongness.

For example, if someone went went, "The Nazis were 100% irredeemably bad in everything they did, because Nazism is 100% bad!" That would be an understandable position to take, off the cuff, but not absolutely accurate. However, if you went, "Well, ackshully..." responding to that, and pointed out some of the things that they objectively did reasonably well, that might sound like you were defending Nazism, rather than just technically acknowledging they technically succeeded in accomplishing something. Yes, Nazis bad, Socialism sucks, ethno-nationalism (ANY national ethnicity) is no way to run a country or manage a society, and everything they did that actually was objectively okay in the name of that was morally wrong or worked DESPITE their hare-brained bullshit. But, that doesn't mean they failed to do everything just because they were Nazis. It means even the acceptable things they did (successfully print paper, not shit on themselves in attempting bureaucracy) were morally wrong, but not that they were utter failures in everything they did.

However, if you tried to explain this, you might get someone rolling their eyes at you trying to sandbag them or "out smart" them by being pedantic, or eyeball you and wonder if maybe you have too much sympathy for the disgusting fucking Nazis, and take up too many hard points of the day with this useless distinction. Now you're interrupting whatever point they were making by interrupting.

So rather than say anything, rather than clarify this distinction about how Nazis are awful so that must have meant every little thing they did was incompetent and stupid and smelly and evil, you smile and nod and agree, because it's really not that big a deal, and the other person is really just being hyperbolic anyway, and it's not super important. The risk of being seen as someone that has even a hair of Nazi sympathism, or holds bad ideas about them, "making the trains run on time," or buys into the myths of Nazi German (or even pre-Nazi German cultural supremacy) efficiency, is just too great. So, you hold your tongue, you let them continue on their discussion using that set piece as true to support whatever else they're saying, because it's not worth disputing or adding to and would just interrupt them and risk how they see you.

Before the internet, people would sometimes invoke other things that people take for granted as true as the basis for other things being true. And even if you thought that was not entirely accurate, you didn't interrupt or try to get them to rethink it because, is the risk really worth the effort? Is the juice worth the squeeze?

Before the keyboard, writing this all out took time and paper and many drafts and erasers. And then you had to have someone willing to READ it.

But if you tried to convey your thoughts verbally, if they were nuanced enough and required long form just to differentiate yourself from actual shitheads with shitty views, there was always the risk of boring the other person to death so they TL;DR and just respond as if you are that apologist guy they suspect they're dealing with. If they started thinking by your dissent alone that you must be one of those Bad People, they ran the risk of going off the cuff and just relating to you antagonistically. And there's few things more irritating than trying to rationally support your argument while someone else conveys not only are they not listening, but they'll just make petty shots, insults, and shows of disrespect to provoke you to doing something or wasting your time.

This was especially irritating to deal with people like that when the discussion was somewhere during a social gathering, and they were trying to make a spectacle about "putting a bad-person in their place." So just loudly speaking to you as if you had indefensible positions and imply by these imaginary reactions to things you never said, in a way that makes people think you said or support those beliefs. I guess a modern day version would be someone patronizing you and mocking you by quoting Andrew Tate, as if you'd ever said anything like that. Which makes viewers and the audience assume "oh, he must've said something cliche like Tate says. Ah. Yeah, hah! Get'im!"

Here, making long form posts, I don't have to worry about people speaking over me when I type, or pulling social-emotional strings to make weaker, vulnerable people jump on that bandwagon and pretend we live in a universe where I support Bad People by disagreeing with a thing here and there. They can't obfuscate what I'm saying by just responding to the sort of bad person they want to tell off, and they can't retroactively erase what I've said using peoples distaste for Bad People and making a values decision on whether to trust me, or the loud mouth asshole polluting my reputation. I can make complete thoughts, and they can be read and contemplated and consumed in their totality, without the dogmas or cliches of some other pop political figure.

Just reblogging my post means they have to reblog what I've written. They can't erase my words, and only let newcomers to the conversation see their response to my words to taint and paint the situation incorrectly. It can be read and understood at the bystander's satisfaction. Sure, there's always the risk they may not read it, or may read it and still come away (good faith or bad) with the reading of the other person. But the fact is, I can complete my thoughts rather than be interrrupted and filibustered, and they're there.

I adore this form of communication.