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scoonsalicious · 3 months

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Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.

Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly, whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle.

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

Next Part ->

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #mcu bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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slothkittfunsies · 3 months

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Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

#hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #hazbin critique #hazbin critical #spindlehorse critical

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hetalia-club · 3 months

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Spitting The Cold Hard Facts We All Need To Hear...Would This Hetalia Boy Buy You Pads/Tampons If You Asked?

Based on reality not hopes and dreams. No favoritism in place here. Because a lot of you guys give these guys too much credit, they are, at their core men.

America- No, he would not.

England- No, he would not. He might share like chocolate with you or something but that's it.

Canada- Maybe, if he was already at the store but he would not make a special trip.

France- Nope, Idc what you say, he would not do this.

Russia- FUCK NO! He would be offended you asked even. China- absolutely not, don't tell him ANYTHING about it either.

Italy- No and he would ghost you for a week. Text you back on the 5th day ask "Can we fuck yet?" if the answer were no he would ignore you another couple days.

Romano- Similar to Canada he would if he were at the store but he would also make like a huge deal out of it and would want praise for doing you the favor. He would also never let you live it down and every time you fought he would be like "Remember that one time I bought pads for you four years ago?"

Spain- You know what? Yeah actually he would.

Germany- Yes absolutely. He would get up and leave the moment you asked him to.

Prussia- No, absolutely not.

Austria- Yes. But he would make you feel as though he did you a HUGE favor.

Sweden- Yes, but this is because he is social awkward and has no idea how to tell you no, he would not want to but he would do it.

Finland- Yes he would. Periods are metal.

Denmark- No he wouldn't. He would say he would, go to the store to get them and then not come back with them and say "didn't know what kind I got you a red bull tho".

Iceland- No, you're actually crazy if you think he would.

Norway- Maybe... and that's a hard maybe. You would have to catch him in the right kind of mood. Most likely no though.

#Hetalia #hws america #hws england #hws canada #hws china #hws russia #hws frane #hws italy #hws romano #hws prussia #hws germany #hws austria #hws sweden #hws finland #hws denmark #hws iceland #hws norway

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devilander · 4 months

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I don't know your rules so I hope this is ok.

Homelander being bored one day and finding boxes full of your old things that your parents kept and he can't pass up on an opportunity to learn more snoop about you. He finds old teddy bears/ drawings/ pictures. Ya know, the typical nick knacks that a proud parent thinks they might be useful someday. It mads him a bit sad that he missed out on so many 'just being a kid' moments but he is enjoying the glimpses that he finds when he sees you in your little league uniform or you soaking wet with a big grin on your face at some waterpark.

You eventually find him all surrounded by memories and see the glassy look in his eyes, you just can't help but crawl in his lap and comfort him. You talk about some of the stuff you guys find, laughing at some. You tell him you promise to make as many happy memories for Ryan and by extension him in the future.

Again, sorry if this is not what you were looking for. Please ignore this or DM me if you want something specific. My brain worms are always a wigglin'.

You finally agreed to move in with Homelander a few months ago. More of a formality, since you already lived in his penthouse most of the time. Yet your parents were so delighted—it was funny, actually, how enchanted they were with him. Their baby girl with America's hero! And he was a charmer too!

Though you lacked for nothing in his house, your parents kept sending housewarming gifts; just trinkets, silly things. Two pairs of white slippers with red stars in them—that one had warranted a full-blown laugh from both of you.

A blue blanket your father had knitted—that one left Homelander at a loss of words. He stared at it for a moment, then silently put it in the bed.

And the boxes! Four boxes filled with knick-knacks; mementos from your childhood and teenage years you were unsure if it'd make Homelander uncomfortable, so… It's not like you hid them (as if you could hide anything from him, anyway), more put them in the very back of your closet and chose not to speak much of it, only mentioned in passing.

“My parents sent even more stuff! Can you believe it?”

The next day, as you left for work, Homelander decided to snoop. It wasn't even snooping, really. You lived with him, you shared it all. And, c’mon, you were an open book. He could read you in a second, knew each flicker of your eyes, every change of breath, the way you scrunched up your nose unconsciously.

He opened every box, sitting on the floor, surrounded by glimpses of your childhood. A picture of you, in your little league uniform, all smiley and proud. A kind of an ugly drawing of what he supposed was meant to be you and your parents. An enormous, threadbare shark plushie you once said was your favorite thing when you were seven.

It was all so mundane—yet his eyes prickled. This was something he'd never be able to share with you.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice you'd already come back, and was walking toward the bedroom.

“Hey, you,” you whispered softly. Your chest contracted painfully when you noticed his glassy eyes. It was an effort not to cry too.

“Hey, babe.” He laughed, but it felt hollow. “Juuuust checking some things you tried hiding from me, missy.” He wiggled his finger in your direction in faux annoyance, but you saw it for what it was.

“Baby…” You crawled towards him, sitting in his lap, touching his cheek. “I didn't want to hide it, I just didn't want to upset you.”

“Why would I be upset?” He snorted, now holding a picture of you when you were thirteen.

You groaned.

“Please laser this right now.”

“Why? You look so… cute.” You tried to snatch it from him, but he wouldn't let it. “Awnnn, look at those buck teeth. You look like a rabbit.” He snickered.

“You mean, mean man!” But you giggled too.

As you found more pictures and drawings, and even one Homelander plushie—that he'd never let you live it down—the mood slowly lightened, and you both laughed as you told him all your embarrassing childhood stories. You knew your parents would tell him all anyway.

After a while, you were just laying down in each other's arms, sharing languid kisses in peaceful quietness.

“You know,” you murmured, fingers caressing his hair. “One day, you'll have all of this too. With me, with Ryan, with our future babies. We'll be the happiest family in the entire world.”

He then held your face so tenderly, eyes glassy again—but those were happy tears, a gentle smile on his face.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you more.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x reader #asks #slasher-smasher #requests #i loveeed this request!#i really hope you like it #and it's what you had in mind #my first hl request fic im so nervous lol #my writing

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pyroclastic727 · 6 months

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The Marvels is being scathed by critics, and that's a good thing.

I finally saw The Marvels today. I'm a bit late to the party, so all I saw about the movie was the teaser at the end of Ms Marvel, and way too many critical reviews of it.

Now, obviously on Tumblr you find the good reviews, like, the cats outnumbering the white men and how Kamala Khan is, like, basically all of us. But in person, I've had someone tell me that it's bad because Rotten Tomatoes rates it 43%, which-- besides wondering why anyone would listen to Rotten Tomatoes, I'd have to wonder why the website would give it such a low rating. The easy answer is that the Tomatoes review committee is populated by white men, who, upon having no one to relate to, react badly to the movie. But I think there's more to it.

The Marvels is a revolution. Through its character-driven writing and brazen exploration of morality, it rewrites the superhero formula completely, by questioning what exactly it means to be a superhero.

The Marvels was directed by Nia DaCosta, an award-winning Harlem native and creative visionary whose approach to this film was to define these characters as humans, not as superheroes. Her approach to heroism directly addresses that the idea that a hero is not always right. A hero, DaCosta claims, is "someone who's trying their best with the information and tools they have at the time. They'll always get it wrong." Carol Danvers's arc directly addresses this, as the resolution of her subplot involves her re-igniting the sun that she snuffed out. Her heroic act is to undo the damage that she wrought.

When compared to old Marvel, this message just doesn't come through. In WandaVision, Wanda's grief is for a family that was killed by the Avengers. Yet, she is painted as a villain, even as she searches for a happy home, even as she at one point joins the Avengers. The Avengers cannot undo what they did, and don't really try. They defeat the big bad, sacrifice their lives, but nothing brings back Wanda's family. Nothing undoes that war. No one searches for Wanda after the event, to try to help her with her grief, except for Monica, and she's working against orders. Their heroics are militant, but while they excel at destruction, they leave the people they hurt in the dust.

This antiheroic plot of old Marvel is precisely what appealed to so many American audiences. Their protagonists are: a rich corporation, a super-soldier, a privileged teenager, a scientist who makes weapons, an ex-convict, a man born into godlike power, and I'm sure there are others but I don't actually care that much... (these would be iron man, captain america, peter parker spiderman, hulk, antman, thor, and etc). All these archetypes appeal to American ideals that the wealthy would sympathize with. They claim that there are people who are inherently bad and seek the power that they have, in the way that a poor person might want a job that a wealthy person wants their child to secure. They claim that it is their business to save those which cannot save themselves, and use this to get involved in wars that are not theirs, and beat up badguys whose backstory they have no way of knowing-- and they punch before they stop and listen.

They are cops in every sense of the word. The responsibility of the vigilante is to defend against evil, but part of that responsibility is to figure out who exactly is evil and who is in need of help.

The Marvels creates a team that tries to distinguish evil from good, and delves into the grey area between them. The final battle between Carol Danvers and Dar-benn has the superhero pinning the grey-haired antagonist to the ground as she begs for, then demands, that Carol fix what she damaged. Monica urges her to listen. Through this, The Marvels argues that a hero does not always beat up the bad guy and fight against unrelenting evil, but that a hero can be wrong, and that a hero can reconsider. It's kindness in the way that is revolutionary, where it's much easier to choose cruelty.

The fact that the movie is getting torn apart by critics, then, is not just because it is a "girls movie" or it doesn't have a strong white man for the white male viewer to sympathize with. The Marvels cannot appeal to Marvel fans because it rewrites the genre itself. It takes a film series whose purpose was to depict the struggles of cops, of the wealthy, of people with too much power who are trying to learn how to responsibly wield it, but don't. And it gives that power to people who have watched superheroes try and fail, who are slowly learning to be better heroes than the ones before them.

The next generation is a critique of the last, a group trying not to make the mistakes of the chosen ones that came before them, and as such, the movie exists to critique the movies that came before it. Therefore, a viewer of Marvel who would positively review it, due to sympathizing with the previous heroes and enjoying the power fantasy, would dislike it out of its existence being critical and contradictory to the films they like themselves.

The Marvels is not for Marvel fans-- at least, not those who saw the Avengers as purely heroes. Instead, the film reaches out to people who would have been against the old Avengers, who want a story that dismantles the unquestioned idealism of superheroes and writes about people trying to protect their communities and the people they care about.

So, let the critics complain. The MCU is shedding its roots as a pro-cop and pro-colonialism power fantasy, and evolving into an exploration of what it means to be a true hero.

#the marvels #ms marvel #captain marvel #photon #kamala khan #monica rambeau #carol danvers #.pyro #pyro.txt #the marvels analysis #can you tell that i loved this movie #it's been so long since i've done an analysis but this one SPOKE to me #anyways i'm coming from the perspective of a marvel hater until i watched ms marvel #honestly i just put the images in there to break it up. they are not very relevant. i didn't pirate so i don't have good screenshots

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rillils · 4 months

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how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

#stucky just stucky #personal #stucky #yes this is very dumb but dumb is my middle name lmao #i hope the read more works??????????#are all the pictures even there????#i'm too tired to check agsdjahkasdjk #sorry it took me a while to reply honey!!!!#i hope you're having a fantastic day!!!!!!! <3 <3 <3 #the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #rillers scribbles

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sophieinwonderland · 5 months

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Now, why would you dare me to embarrass you and your pals like that?

I appreciate how you wanted my attention so bad you posted me to not one, but two subreddits.

Makes a girl feel special! 🤣

I have actually never seen Wikipedia cited as a source about endogenic plurality. Though I do see anti-endos all the time, when asked for sources, telling people to just Google things.

Anyway, here's @guardianssystem's document filled with academic papers about endogenic plurality:

I've compiled my own, but honestly, theirs is better organized than mine.

And in the interest of fairness, here are all the anti-endo papers debunking endogenic plurality:

Sorry, I forgot. Those don't exist. Oops. 🤷‍♀️

Echo chamber? LOL!

Weren't you the one spouting a bunch of lies on Tumblr, got totally debunked, posted the people who debunked you to r/systemscringe to have a hugbox where fakeclaimers could assure you how the people who contradicted you are all fakers, and then blocked everyone who disagreed with you?

Weren't you also the one who, when shown a quote from an expert in dissociative disorders who worked on the DSM-5 saying that a disorder isn't a disorder if it doesn't cause distress, argued that the people who defined what disorder are must be wrong about that definition?

You're a misinformation machine who can only find support when huddled in cringe subreddits. Don't try to talk about people in echo chambers.

Also, you know most of psychology is just... listening to people? That's how it's been as long as the field existed. DID (or MPD at the time) was a recognized disorder since long before the first brain scans were conducted on DID patients. It's saying something though when basically every single scientist who has ever researched endogenic plurality has said they believe it's a real thing, or that it could be. While absolutely zero academic papers have expressed that it's fake.

There is also an fMRI study into tulpa systems that's been in the works, but results have yet to be published.

Sure, if that's what you'd like me to call you, Crazy. 😊

Anyway, Crazy, you should know that just because you personally find something scary doesn't mean everyone will or that the thing is bad. Personal preferences are a thing.

In a study of tulpamancers though, most generally reported their lives becoming better after the practice.

78% reported improvements in their mental health, and 91% on overall life.

There are many out there who would jump at the chance to have someone there with them that knows them intimately, and to never have to be alone again.

If it's not for you, then so be it.

But it's certainly not something to be afraid of.

And maybe, for those who are willing to commit to the practice while America struggles with an epidemic of loneliness, it's something worth being open to.

This is actually pretty fair.

But that's now, and I'm looking at course of history and trends of plural acceptance.

300 years ago, any plural would be viewed as demon possessed and end up tortured or killed for their plurality.

70 years ago, all plurality was seen as a mental illness, and it was common to force plurals, as well as anyone else associated with mental illnesses, into asylums.

30 years ago, the first real plural communities were able to connect on the internet and form in small numbers.

8 years ago, the first studies into endogenic plurality started being conducted. 4 years ago, the ICD-11 acknowledged that you could have multiple distinct personality states without a disorder. 2023 marked the first, but certainly not the last, time a system used their system name as an author of an academic paper.

Recently, new plural resources have been designed and put into use. More servers than ever are using Pluralkit. And Simply Plural went from 100k users at the end of 2021 to 210k at the end of 2022.

Progress is happening far more rapidly than you realize. And you had best be ready for it.

BOO! 👻

Oh, hey, I just realized... this is literal pluralphobia!

Liberté!

Egalité!

Fraternité!

And yes, The Future is Plural! 😜

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moonpascaltoo · 3 months

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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve rogers stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!)

MASTERLIST • MARVEL MASTERLIST • 04/16/24

: ̗̀➛ code blue by @bonky-n-steeb

✮ Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...

: ̗̀➛ oh captain my captain by @starryevermore

✮chris knows how much you enjoy captain america, so he makes sure you live out all of your fantasies. (chris evans pretending to be steve rogers)

: ̗̀➛ it’s you that i lie with by @lipstickbisous

✮pt 1- steve rogers realizes that his love for you is unparalleled, but when he chooses to return to you by the lake, he receives a certain visit from the time variance authority

: ̗̀➛ mr. perfectly fine by @sparkleofpizza

✮Hello, Mr. perfectly fine, how’s your heart after breaking mine?” - Taylor Swift (Mr. Perfectly Fine)

: ̗̀➛ @espinosaurusrexex

☾ forever, of course

✮Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.

☾ watchful eyes

✮When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.

: ̗̀➛ something new by @buckyownsmylife

✮The one where Steve moved onto another woman’s arms after the blip, but now that you’re back…

: ̗̀➛ back to you by @literaryavenger

✮You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.

: ̗̀➛ hideout by @ronearoundblindly

✮Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.

: ̗̀➛ he’s just not into you by @sergeantbarnessdoll

✮Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.

: ̗̀➛ to know him is to love him by @anonymityisfunwriter

✮ to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.

: ̗̀➛ airbag by @ichorai

✮ five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

: ̗̀➛ lift by @str-spangled-banner

✮ You confess to Steve that you’ve always wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift. Somehow, he agrees to do it with you.

: ̗̀➛ caught by @moonlightyeager

✮ you and steve get caught

: ̗̀➛ you’re stuck with me by @your-eternal-lies

✮ As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

: ̗̀➛ hangry by @just-another-blog-of-fluff

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers series #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 7 months

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Fossil Novembirb 2: The Survivors

The End-Cretaceous Extinction was one of the most devastating - and tragic - events on our planet.

In the blink of an eye, the world changed from a thriving biosphere to a decimated one. The asteroid caused worldwide wildfires, tsunamis, and the dramatic release of particles into the air that blocked out the sun.

Nothing over 25 kg could survive, because they had nowhere to hide from the devastation. Anything under that limit had to have somewhere to hide - water or burrowing worked best - and something to eat, which was easier said than done. When the plants can't eat, nothing can.

And yet, life survived - not just life, but dinosaurs themselves!

Conflicto, by @otussketching

In fact, one of the first fossils we have from the Cenozoic is Conflicto, a Presbyornithid - like "Styginetta" and Teviornis yesterday! - from Antarctica

Why these dinosaurs, and no others?

They had beaks, which would have helped them to access available food sources such as seeds and spores (plant material in a protective casing)

They did not live in trees, but usually near or with water - perfect places to hide

They were powerful fliers, allowing them to escape the flames and whatever else they needed to

Other than that? Random chance.

Much of the evolution of life on this planet is down to Sheer Dumb Luck

Tsidiiyazhi by Sean Murtha

What happened next was truly remarkable: an adaptive radiation of dinosaurs the likes of which is rarely seen

With all of those newly opened niches, Neornithines adapted quickly, so quickly we can't actually figure out how different major groups of Neoavians - aka, most birds - actually relate to one another.

After all, there was just *so much* free real estate!

Qianshanornis by @alphynix

In fact, many of these dinosaurs evolved right back into niches that their ancestors had famously lived in - penguins show up so quickly that we're giving marine birds their own day, replacing the now-lost Hesperornithines; Tsidiiyazhi and others quickly replaced the empty tree-bird niches left behind by the lost Enantiornithines; and raptors show up quickly too, already reminiscent of the lost Dromaeosaurs.

Qianshanornis, a mysterious raptor from China, had sickle claws just like its lost bretheren! In fact, it looks like it might be a Cariamiform, a group of dinosaurs including living Seriemas and the extinct Terror Birds, which often have sickle claws like Dromaeosaurs did!

Don't fix what isn't broken, I guess!

Australornis by @thewoodparable

Non-Neoavians diversified too, with fowl doing just fine across the boundary - Presbyornithids like Conflicto, as well as mysterious forms like Australornis.

Palaeognaths remain weirdly absent, but don't worry - the earilest ones will show up before the Paleocene epoch is done!

The Cenozoic begins with the Paleogene Period, which has the first epoch of the Paleocene - this was a climatic quagmire, with frequent fluctuations at the beginning before a dramatic rise in temperatures at the end. This climate confusion would affect bird evolution greatly - and lead to the diversification of many kinds, some of which we still have today!

Sources:

Ksepka, D. T., T. A. Stidham, T. E. Williamson. 2017. Early Paleocene landbird supports rapid phylogenetic and morphological diversification of crown birds after the K-PG mass extinction. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America 114 (30): 8047 - 8052.

Mayr, 2022. Paleogene Fossil Birds, 2nd Edition. Springer Cham.

Mayr, 2017. Avian Evolution: The Fossil Record of Birds and its Paleobiological Significance (TOPA Topics in Paleobiology). Wiley Blackwell.

#fossil novembirb #novembirb #dinovember #dinosaurs #birds

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letters-from-dekarios · 10 days

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sunkissed hearts

chapter one: sandy and danny

summary: you’re starting a new college in europe in the fall and are taking all the time in the summer while in america to live your life to the fullest. while out at a bar one night, you meet a rather handsome man who gives you the best summer of your life. when you start college, your new english professor looks rather… familiar.

or: you spend a summer with gale, only for him to become your professor

word count: 3.8k

tags: college!au, professor!gale x f!reader, brief NSFW, MDNI, charas >20, mild language, themes of alcohol usage, theater kid!jen, artist!astarion, eventually other people will be there i promise

author’s note: i wasn’t intending for this to be a multi-part series, but it got so long & I didn’t want to rush the story, so this is going to be split into a few parts! i’d like to also note I don’t necessarily condone teacher/student relationships in most circumstances but… this fic fits the ones where you can go “okay that’s fair”. enjoy!

“Come on, one more bar!” You encouraged your friends. It was a Saturday night, the city was bustling with life. You were infused with the confidence of seven strippers on a Friday night and six shots of vodka— nothing was stopping you now.

The disapproving, tired looks from your friends begging you to give the night up and return home did nothing to deter you from pushing forward. But, alas, you were always the persistent type. Your whining droned on as you kept trying to persuade them.

“Just let me find a guy to go home with, okay? Then you guys can leave!” You urged them, and they begrudgingly agreed. Well, Jenevelle annoyedly agreed, Astarion was more than happy to keep going for the rest of the night, except he was sleep-deprived and just being a little jerk about it.

“Fine! But if you don’t find someone within the first hour, we’re leaving!” Jen yelled back as you practically skipped into the next bar you had on your list.

You had this idea in your head that the moment you left for college, you’d never be back to this town again. So, with that concept in mind, you aimed to complete your list of top things to do before you moved. This was one of your bucket list items- visit every bar in the city at least once and get a drink. You were making your way through the list pretty fast!

After entering, your friends separated from you, leaving you to walk up to the bar top and order your drink on your own. You started with something simple, a nice wine to get your evening going… even though you were halfway through it.

It wasn’t long before someone else was at your side, a good-looking man, no doubt. The conversation was idle and only lasted a few minutes before you were bored with him. He caught on to your exhaustion and gave up after a while, stumbling away into the rest of the crowd. Frustration brewed within you as you sat in silence conversations flitting around you and not with you. And then this smokey, woody scent stirred around you. You couldn’t tell if it was in your head or reality until you were greeted by a new man who sat beside you.

“Well you look awfully lonely, don't you?” The man joked, smiling at you as he ordered himself a whiskey- neat. You observed him, his features, and you contemplated if this was going to be your ride home tonight.

When he actually turned to you, and you looked at his face fully, you were certain he was the one. He had those eyes that just invited you into a warm hug, one you’d never want to let go of. His expressions were soft and comforting, bringing you a sense of calmness amidst the chaos around you. Even if only for a one-night stand, he would stay in your mind forever. You hadn't even been properly introduced yet, but the aura surrounding him gave way to opinions of him you would soon find as fact.

And he looked like he gave incredible head.

“Hello! The name’s Gale, might I ask yours?” He introduced, extending a hand towards you as he took a sip from his glass.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. What kind of a man introduces himself at a bar and shakes your hand? Only a gentleman, you concluded. Okay, it was mostly the alcohol in your system talking, taking over your intuitions and ability to see any red flags, but gods did you want him.

And gods did you have him.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Fuck-”How late was it? You couldn’t tell anymore. Your concept of time had long since faded.

He was so goddamn good you just didn’t want it to stop. You kept begging for more, your body completely succumbing to his will. You moved in response to him and him alone, the noises of satisfaction leaving you fueling his desires. Your head tilted back into the silk sheets, your fingers clawing into his shoulders.

“Gods…” you heard him breathe out as he littered kisses down your bare chest. His hands roamed all along your curves, gently grabbing at you here and there, pulling your hips up to him, arching your back, sliding down your thighs… He knew his way around your body like he’d been with you for years.

You could feel the love and the care he put into it, which was an odd thing to think with a guy’s dick that you met mere hours ago in you.

Regardless, the feeling was true. You knew that he wasn’t one of those assholes who would toss you out right after he was done. No, he’d encourage you to stay- maybe even make you breakfast the next morning. He’d let you wear his shirt, even “accidentally” let you take it home. He’d leave his mark on you, and he’d do it with grace and respect. You had never had this with someone before.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

A little while later you were curled up at his side, your head against his bicep as you laid in bed with him. Your hand rested on his chest, tracing the tattoo he had there. You admired him, and he, you. You would let yourself indulge in this… for now. For as long as you could before you’d move away.

“Tell me…” Gale’s sweet, honey-like voice broke the quiet barrier between you two. “You’re much too kind and much too beautiful to be on your own. Are you sure you don’t have anyone special waiting for you back home?” He asked, and though you’d already answered “no” once, this time the question felt different. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder, his arm pulled you in, and you felt safe there, with him. Like you could tell him all your darkest secrets, and he’d listen to them all with no judgement.

“I’m sure,” you answered, looking up at him. You were still so mesmerized by him.

“How long are you here for?”

“Three more months, then I move away.”

“Hm.”

A hush fell between you as his eyes flitted to the ceiling, pondering over your response. You had no idea what he was to say next, but you’d answer wholeheartedly to whatever it was.

“Perhaps you’d like to spend some of that time with me?” He suggested, bringing his eyes back down to you.

This piqued your interest. What could that mean? You had seen from his lavish apartment that he was on the more comfortable side of life, was he willing to share that with you? Was he willing to make your summer memorable?

“Depends on what you mean by that..” you raised an eyebrow, shifting so you sat up. You moved on top of him, straddling his waist as he replied to you.

“You talked about making the most of this summer. You have a bucket list, right?” You nodded your head. “I’d like to help with that if you’d let me,” he offered, placing his hands at your sides.

“Oh? And what do you get in exchange for helping me fuel my crazy plans?” You asked, leaning down towards his face.

“Good company every once in a while. I’d like to hear about your adventures- maybe even partake in a few…” he trailed off, letting your mind wander to what he meant.

“So… you’d be my sugar daddy?”

He laughed, a deep laugh from the abdomen. His eyes squinted, his nose scrunched up, he shook his head… he was so pretty when he laughed.

“In a manner of speaking, you could call it that. I’d rather not, however.”

“You are technically older than me,” you pointed out. Though it was only by, what, ten years? Barely even that.

“Don’t say that! That makes it sound bad!”

“Ooooh… look at you, going after younger women…” you gasped, holding a hand to your chest dramatically. You fanned yourself, shaking your head and tsking disapprovingly at him. He broke your dramatics by flipping you into your back, hovering over you with a faux-stern look in his eye. Giggles broke from you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you.

“Maybe I’ll take back my offer, then,” he threatened jokingly, returning your tsks.

“No, don’t do that…” you pouted, he couldn’t help but kiss you. You returned it, obviously, running a hand through his hair and tugging him closer. You had him already and yet you wanted more.

“I’ll take this as a yes, then?” He mumbled against your lips, trailing them down your jawline and to your neck.

“Yes.” You could barely breathe it out as he distracted your mind with his kisses, his soft hum against your skin an acknowledgment of your response. The night slowly faded away after that, his affection becoming a blur until you finally drifted off to sleep.

You were right, you found out, he was the type to make you breakfast the morning after. Though he didn’t stay, he left a sweet note for you apologizing for not being able to enjoy the morning with you. He even left you cash. Oh, hell yeah, you were doing this.

After enjoying your breakfast, you took down the phone number he had left you, sent him a sweet message, got yourself ready with all the things he had in his apartment (because who wouldn’t?) and went back to your home.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“You will never guess who I met,” you started as you entered through the doorway, dropping your shoes down.

“Henry the eighth?” Jen replied, not bothering to look up from the book she was currently invested in. Theater kids- you despised them at times.

“Gods no, I’d lose my head in two seconds flat,” you snorted, jumping over the couch and landing next to her.

“I don’t know then, who?” She asked, placing a finger in her book and shutting it.

“You remember that guy I went home with last night?”

“The librarian looking dude?”

Astarion came out from his room quickly, running out to join in the conversation. “Is she talking about the one who looked like that Hozier song’s lyrics?”

Jen nodded at him, and you rolled your eyes before continuing. “He was hot! You guys are just mean. Anyways- he took me home, best sex of my life by the way, and guess who has…” you paused dramatically, digging into your bra for the cash he had left you, holding up the wad with a grin on your face, “their very own sugar daddy! Just like I’d always dreamed of,” you sighed wistfully and then broke out in laughter as Jen and Astarion stared at you blankly.

“How old was this guy again?” Jen asked, raising an eyebrow while you swatted away Astarion’s greedy hands.

“Thirty-four— but he was so nice! He said he wanted to aid me in my summer bucket list. He made me breakfast,” You frowned slightly, and they got the hint that you really liked this guy.

“So, basically, you were a prostitute, and now he’s going to hire you for the whole summer?” Astarion asked, making a cheeky face at you.

You grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at him, groaning out. “It’s not like that! You guys are so judgemental!”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Jen raised her hands defensively, but the look she shared with Astarion said more than it needed to.

“No, but you’re thinking it! That’s just as bad!” You threw a pillow at her, and then a fully-fledged pillow fight began in the small living room space. You were laughing then, sure, but a teenie part of you wondered really why he was doing this for you. Did he like you that much? Or was he just using you for your body— were you seriously becoming a prostitute? Gods, you hoped not.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The next few weeks were normal, you’d tell Gale what you were up to, he’d send you some spending money, and you’d catch up with him later. Sometimes it’d be sex, sometimes he just wanted to hear about your day. You got the sense that, despite being so nice, he didn’t have many friends. At least, not any friends nearby, so you elected to keep him company whenever he needed. It became less and less of a business deal the more you got to know him.

A month into your little… transaction, he sent you an image of two tickets to Venice and the dates. You could’ve screamed right there, enthusiastically telling your companions about your upcoming trip. It was a short weekend, sure, but it was the most fun you’ve ever had.

He took you to a little restaurant, your table overlooking the water, one night. A single rose and a candle were placed between you two. It was fancy. You weren’t used to fancy, mostly because you never had the money for it. The only reason why you were moving was to take advantage of the international students program- that was pretty much a paid college ride.

Your parents weren’t exactly rich either, barely scraping by and living paycheck to paycheck when you were younger. The finer things in life consisted of a rare dinner out, usually pizza or Applebee’s, and the occasional gift or two that had a practical use for you. New shoes or a pencil case for school with your favorite character on it— you weren’t the spoiled type, all of this was new to you.

“Get whatever you’d like,” Gale told you, and your eyes hungrily scanned the menu. The prices caught your eye, and you bit the inside of your cheek. You knew he was generous, but some part of you felt awkward taking from him so bluntly like this.

“I think I’ll just get a salad or something…” you said warily, apprehensive about it all. Funny how you were hesitant now, and not when he bought you tickets to Venice. Ironic.

“Oh, please. Humor me, darling. Make my wallet hurt,” he grinned at you from across the table, and you laughed at the comment. Well, now that you had his permission…

“How much can I hurt it?” You asked curiously, eyeing a rather expensive meal on the menu.

“Hm… are you willing to make up the difference later if it’s more than expected?” He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes still trained on the menu.

“When in… Venice,” you chimed back, adjusting the phrase to suit your location.

It was, in fact, more than he expected. But you were sure he’d say that regardless of what you ordered, and you didn’t mind the view of the sunset over Italy as he hit it from behind.

You laughed internally, both out of humor and pity for yourself. You had no idea how you were going to survive once the summer was over and you moved away, not once this whole thing broke off. But, hey, you could, and most definitely would, enjoy it while it lasted.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The rest of the summer was spent similarly, going out and doing adventurous things with your friends, paid for by Gale. Sometimes he’d join you, or take you away on another short vacation and spoil you absolutely rotten with everything he could. You couldn’t be happier, and it felt good for him to use the money he had to help someone live their dreams before they had no free time left.

The end came faster than you did after your first night with him. Less crude analogy? How about, the summer ended faster than the bullet train you took in Tokyo where you’d spent a whole week with him.

You had told him in advance that it was your last week in the city, and he took the opportunity to pamper you more than ever. He got you a new laptop, headphones, brand new tablet… he wanted to make sure you were all set for your move. You half wondered if he was trying to get you to be his girlfriend- but that was a subject you two didn’t talk much about.

You realized in that final week that, actually, you didn’t know much about him at all. You knew he was an English Professor, he didn’t share where, though. You knew that he was young to be an English Professor… and that he had a cat, named Tara. Besides that, he was a phantom on the terrace threatening to leave you with the wounds of a lover when you finally moved on.

Despite your wanting to cling to him regardless of the time or day, you knew that it would have to end eventually. Even if you stayed in touch now and then, part of you wanted to leave all your dreams behind for him. You knew he wouldn’t let you do that.

The last night, before you moved out, was spent with him. He took you to dinner, indulged you, like usual, and then the rest of the night was… well, passionate to say the least. You savored every moment with him, and he, you. He took his time, caressing and kissing every inch of you. He memorized the way your body felt under his own, the way his hands fit perfectly at your bare waist, the way you moved in accordance with everything he did. You wished the fun would never end.

“Promise you won’t forget me…” you begged him, sticking to his side as you tried to make the night last longer.

“My love, with you I forget myself. I would never dream of letting these memories slip away from me. You are the object of all my intuitions, and you will forever be branded on my heart,” God, he was so poetic. You loved it. You loved him, but wouldn’t say it. This was a transaction, right? Now that it had been processed, you had to move on. Besides, you still barely knew anything about him. What was there to love other than the poet’s romantic words and the money in his pocket?

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered to him, burying your face into his chest.

“Try not to.”

But you couldn’t try to not miss him. You couldn’t stop thinking about your summer with him, how adored he made you feel. You thought you’d never see him again.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“If I had a nickel for every time you spent mourning over your summer with Gale, I’d be able to buy and sustain a cottage in the middle of nowhere,” Jenevelle remarked one day in your new apartment. You finally had things together and littered your space with pictures you’d taken of your time with him. Astarion had to stop you from crowding his space with those pictures, too.

“I’m not mourning anything. I just miss it,” you huffed, setting a photo down as you went back to packing your bag. “The sex was awesome.”

“I doubt he even remembers what you look like. It’s been months,” Astarion cackled.

It had been so long since you last saw him. When you left for college, you were supposed to start in the fall, but now it was practically winter. Between the stress of moving, and life being life, your start date was pushed out a few months longer than it was supposed to be. It didn’t help that your school lost your transfer papers, either, or that your student visa was delayed by a few weeks. Overall, your move was a mess, and you blamed it on leaving the handsome English professor in America. Maybe if you’d stayed…

“Don’t say that!” You whined, whacking him in the back of the head with some of your papers. “He remembers me. He still talks to me.”

“Yeah, he sends you money. That’s about it,” Jen pursed her lips together, shrugging at you. Okay, maybe she was a little bit right. But you were not about to admit that.

“Shut… shut up.”

“Exactly.”

You finished packing for the day and started to make yourself breakfast. You had calculated the route perfectly, you had plenty of time to get ready and enjoy some you-time before your morning class.

You didn’t estimate the giant accident on the way there, though. You practically had a mini heart attack trying to rush through traffic to get there, just barely making it on time. Lucky for you, the professor wasn’t there yet, either.

You squeezed into a seat near the back that was open, apologizing to your seatmates for being late. You pulled out your tablet and set up your notes as neatly as you could. By the end of the lecture you were sure they’d be all over the place, but you could at least try. Your peers beside you introduced themselves as Lae’zel and Wyll and you thanked them both for allowing you to sit between them.

You were nose-deep in your screen, perfecting the layout of your notes, that you didn’t even notice the professor walk in, the room becoming oddly silent.

“This guy is also on the board of directors, and he’s the head of the English department,” Wyll whispered to you. You looked up from your tablet, only seeing the professor’s back as he faced the board. At least your seatmates were kind enough to let you in on all the missing details. How useful that would be in the long run, you’d find out, but it was beneficial to know who you were dealing with.

“Welcome to Honors English 122. For all those new and old, we’re going to be covering a variety of subjects this semester…” his voice trailed off in your mind— you recognized it from somewhere. But where? It was hard to place, especially since he was so far away from you. You needed to see his face- that would solidify where you knew him from.

“I’m Professor Dakarios and I’ll be your guide through the wonderful world of the English language and its impact on our society,” You tried to place the last name, but failed. You were convinced you absolutely knew him, but had not a clue as to how. Oh well.

“Does he start every class like this?” You whispered to Wyll, who nodded solemnly. Was it an ego trip or excitement to have a class to himself? You’d uncover that, too, you supposed.

The professor clasped his hands behind his back, satisfied with the way his name had been written on the board, and turned to face the class. He beamed at the students in front of him, stepping around his desk and leaning against the edge of it. Your eyes narrowed, trying to see him clearly. Considering how large the lecture room was and how far away you were, it was a bit hard.

“It seems we’ve had a handful of new additions to the class this week. I’d like to take a small break from the usual lecture and get some introductions in,” he smiled again, folding his hands in his lap. “I’ll start— my first name is Gale, I’ve been teaching for about six years now, and I have a little feline at home named Tara- who, no, I cannot bring in to show you all.”

Holy. Shit.

“Who would like to go next?”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

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the-empress-7 · 3 months

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I spent two hours yesterday evening talking to friends who live across the country, they called me in a panic about "Princess Kate".

This is a couple who don't follow anything pop culture related, but they were actually distressed about what they were hearing about Kate in their social circles.

It's an election year in America and yet all Americans care about right now is Princess Kate.

#anyone who knows me enough to know that I follow the BRF has called me about Kate #the best part is that they all refer to her as Princess Kate

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gatzbright · 8 months

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[october] one year of togetherness.

@/dreamsecretclub: dteam Christmas won’t be happening unfortunately, thought I’d say before that way Christmas can still be great :) totally out of our control unfortunately, can’t wait for the future still :)) 2022 incoming ♥️♥️

Dream: I'm gonna expose George's feelings on his behalf ... He was just saying, he was like, 'I think I'm depressed', and we were like 'What do you mean?' and he was like, 'I don't know. I don't do anything, and no one's here, and I just wanna come to the US'. And Sapnap was like, 'Well, what if I came to the UK?' and George was like, 'You should'. And then Sapnap went and filed for his passport the next day.

Dream: Because George hasn't got his visa yet, Sapnap's going to the UK. Sapnap: Fine. I'll go. [Dream Team laughs] Dream: So, unfortunately, Sapnap's getting the first George hug. [George Laughs] Sapnap: I'm getting the first George hug.

Dream: I feel like if George isn't here by, like—I wanna be like, 'Well, next month'. I feel like if George isn't here by September, my like, mental health will take a dive. Massively. And that sounds like, fucked, but it's one-hundred percent true.

Dream: You will see the fact that George, um—George's reaction to seeing me ... We said when he got his visa he could FaceTime me, so, stuck to the plan. Not saying anymore because you have to wait for the meetup video.

Dream: You sure you don't want to wait to see me in person? George: I'm ready. I've got my camera set up—I'm all ready to go! Dream: I guess I just, I wasn't expecting this. I'm gonna go look in a mirror and make sure I don't look like trash. I'll be right back! George: [laughs] Okay ... Oh my god.

George: After years of waiting, I was finally going to America.

Sapnap: Dream? Dream: Yeah? Sapnap: Clay? Dream: Oh god. Sapnap: I brought him. He's here. You excited? Dream: I am ... very nervous. Sapnap: Nervous but excited. Dream: I'm nervous, but I'm excited! I'm doing excited hops. Sapnap: It's a big day—an exciting day! ... Take your time. This is big stuff. He's going to be living here forever.

@/GeorgeNotFound: Just met Dream!! :)

“This doesn’t even feel real,” George says in the video — a sentiment he reiterates to Variety when asked about how he felt in the moment. “The sun was directly behind him, and it was blinding me, and he had an aura about him.”

George: It's so bright, I can't even see you. You're like a—you're like a god with the sun behind you!

George: I guess I gotta go get my bags in, and time to live in the Dream House. Dream: The Dream Team House!

@/GeorgeNotFound: why didnt you post the one where you actually kissed me?

dream @/dreamwastaken: just felt better leaving things up for larger interpretation

George: Look it's Dream, and Sapnap. It's all of us!

Dream: [softly to George] Rise and shine. We're home.

Hypnotised, Delta Goodrem | Dream's secret George photos in smile hoodie, Deleted @/dreamwastaken Tweet | Dream Priv Tweet,@/dreamsecretclub | The Collector, John Fowles | Dream Team Minecraft Skins | Dream Discord Podcast, Dream Merch Server | Our first selfie :], @/GeorgeNotFound Tweet | Sapnap Tiktok with George, @/Sapnapvids | Fortnite w/Dream and George, SapnapAlt VOD | Waiting for Godot, Samuel Beckett [Used Many Times] | You Laugh You Lose With George, Sapnap VOD | Dream Discord Podcast, Dream Merch Server | The Trial, Franz Kafka | George Visa Tweet, @/GeorgeNotFound | Dream Twitter Space, @/dreamwastaken | October Passed Me By, girl in red | George Visa Selfie, @/GeorgeNotFound | I Met Dream In Real Life, GeorgeNotFound [Used Many Times] | There It Goes, Maisie Peters | Dandelion Wine, Gregory Alan Isakov | Electric Touch (feat. Fall Out Boy) (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault), Taylor Swift | Coastline, Hollow Coves | George Tweet, @/GeorgeNotFound | Dream and George Interview, Rachel Seo, Variety | Dream Deleted Tweet Photos, @/Dream | George Tweet Reply,@/GeorgeNotFound | Dreamland, Glass Animals | Photograph of Dream and George during the Foodbeast's Panel at Twitchcon San Diego, @/itsjusttai_ | Dream Team Christmas – Baking Cookies, Sapnap VOD | fallingforyou, The 1975 | Dream Team Christmas – Gingerbread Houses, GeorgeNotFound VOD | Dream Tweet Reply, @/dreamwastaken | It's Not Living (If It's Not With You), The 1975 | just got back from hospital..., GeorgeNotFound VOD | Home, Gabrielle Aplin | Dream and George on set: Everest – Dream & Yung Gravy BEHIND THE SCENES, Dream Music | Dream Snapchat Video, @/Dream | Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

#WAAAAAAAH HAPPY ANNIVERSARY OF MEET UP AND FACE REVEAL GEORGE IN FLORIDA DREAM TURNS ONE YEAR OLD DAY !!!!!!!!!#ijust spent four hours on this holyfuckdbdhf my brain rn #I WANNA FINSIH A FIC FOR TOMROROW/TODAY TOO. it is 3:30am i thinki should Sleep thoand sdothat tomorrow #mygod #this iss o satisfying to look at now #the references are always so god damn long but i LOVE DOING THEM no matter how much of a pain they are bc its like hey. h ey look dnf real #dnf is R eal bc LOOK. LOOK LOOOOOK. (also we're gonna ignore the formatting of the referencing bc it fucked up Many times IM NOT FIXINGAGA #ok thanksfor ur attention enjoy goonight mwah <3333333 #dnf #dreamnotfound #web weaving #compilations #my webs

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rederiswrites · 2 months

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I don't see how trump turning America into a christofacsist state is any different than the norm? like it's been like that for native and black people since it's creation like we inspired the nazis in the first place so like what the point? oh trumps gonna kill everyone who isn't a white cis male! and? that's what america's best quality since day one

Okay I'm actually going to respond to this Edgelord Supreme bullshit, because as absurd as it looks written out like this, I actually do think a lot of people are feeling some half-articulated version of this despair and cynicism. Let's kick that in the ass.

First, let's get one thing straight. History has been terrible awful bad always and forever. There have been a thousand genocides and a million wars and a billion brutal, inhuman war crimes. Back in the days of the earliest civilizations, wiping out entire cities when you defeated them was basically just how things were done for many societies. The fact that we have international laws and international bodies of justice, however obviously toothless they remain, is the result of thousands of years of extremely mixed progress.

So at this point, you pretty much have to say either that a) humans are an incurable blight and don't deserve to live, or b) that we've done amazing, beautiful things and experienced billions of moments of happiness and created art and fallen in love despite all this, so we're still worth working on. Personally, I am very strongly in camp b. I see things worth living for a hundred times a day. There's really no comparison.

Second, the USA is not uniquely bad. It is terribly damaging to people both within its borders and all over the world. It is build on genocide and slavery. Many of its foundational institutions are deeply corrupted by these things. And guess what, that's uh....pretty common. No, really. The US is currently a big fucking problem. It's our turn with the big stick, for sure. But even then, we're not alone.

So how the fuck is this encouraging? It isn't. I'm not encouraging you, I'm telling you to fucking GET GOOD, because when you say shit like the above, what I hear is "Oh I SEE, I'm a TERRIBLE PERSON I guess I should just kill myself to make your life easier." I hear someone who would rather give up and call their country morally bankrupt and irredeemable than to PUT IN SOME FUCKING WORK.

Cynicism is so comfortable. It doesn't ask anything of you. "It's always been like this," it says. "Nothing's going to change."

Except things do change, and things have changed, and your entire premise is in fact absolute dogshit. The two presidential candidates are not remotely the same, and we are not, yet, a Christofascist nation. I could, as many before me already have, enumerate the million concrete ways in which your premise is just not true, but honestly I won't bother, because it's not a premise in good faith. What I mean by that is that even a cursory examination of the actual facts would totally trash your expressed beliefs, so you're not really interested in the facts.

Change for the better can happen. Change for the better has happened. It's just not as EASY as you want it to be. There are more steps. For example, you can't have viable independent candidates until you have campaign finance and voting reform. So you have to push for those things. For years, probably decades. Many people have died without seeing the realization of things they fought for, and yet those things have come to pass. You may die fighting the good fight and not see the victory. I may too. Meanwhile, you make the choices that will hopefully get the fewest people killed.

So stop acting like we're all just too shitty to bother about, and put in some fucking work.

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leohtttbriar · 3 months

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this entire episode was incredibly fraught and it's conclusion was almost willfully blind and offensive but also it definitely reveals a lot about the paradigm of thought in which the voyager writers were operating. like, i kept wondering since i started watching voyager why they felt the need to make up a tribe instead of grounding chakotay in the many real people of indigenous american communities. and i guess this episode, "tattoo," offered their reasoning for that choice. as baffling and ill-conceived and un-creative as that reasoning is.

see. there was one moment in this episode where i thought the story they were telling wasn't about to be the most frustrating thing ever. this moment was when young-chakotay references how other tribes are not living in the past, but his and his father's is. the simple idea that not all people are one and the same, that indigenous communities can be and are distinct and not a single amalgamation easily filed under one label, as well as the idea that tribes yet exist--that they are not and have not been vanishing. i thought, after this conversation, that the story was going to go on like a wakanda-type route, where the "fantasy" and "myth" chakotay is criticizing above is actually just a specific sort of highly-developed and protected tech and the people of his tribe were isolationists. i thought when we first saw that peaceful symbol on the alien planet that we were about to be treated to an alternate yet hidden history of a tribe from earth having achieved space-travel far before anyone else from earth did and kept it secret. i thought that might justify, a little bit, making up a tribe instead of picking one and hiring several consultants/writers for the writing room.

obviously, i thought wrong. more fool me--like this episode came out the same decade as dances with wolves. i genuinely should've known better.

i think one of the main mistakes (informed by the umbrella ""mistake"" (i.e. profound and deliberate crimes again humanity) of violent and merciless colonialism, which continues to inform how people interact with the world and will continue to do so for as long as we can imagine) is the treatment of the "myth" and "fantasy." like, another made-up indigenous people in star trek is the bajoran people in ds9, which i think exposes a lot of the writers' perspectives about chakotay. i don't think it's a coincidence that they made the leader of the maquis cell that had to be absorbed into the voyager crew explicitly indigenous. or that said leader had a whole situationship with a bajoran character who thinks very, very little of starfleet and janeway. these are all part of the same creative impulse. and it's a rich idea, started in ds9 and continued into voyager--the maquis, their relationship to bajor and cardassia and the federation, and what their principles are. and through that idea, you can see that the 90s star trek writers were trying to draw from real-world indigenous resistance to shape these freedom-fighters as well as from real-world indigenous insight to shape the bajoran (and chakotay's) spirituality. in that: they made the spirituality "real."

the bajoran deities are real beings. thus the bajoran people have a super special relationship to the land. and the deities are material and there. chakotay's spirituality also is "real", in that it has a direct effect on the material happenings in an episode. this sort of thing can either be: spirituality is drawn from the material world/material insights and human consciousness is a very powerful thing OR these particular people have a "magical" connection to nature. based on everything to do with these spiritualities i've seen in these two shows, it definitely feels like they were going more for the latter.

and then in this episode (!) they make the writing decision to explicitly say that all indigenous people in the americas were inspired by and directly gained wisdom from a bunch of special aliens who wanted to make sure the land of earth was protected and so appointed all the american indigenous people as guardians. like they were One people who both had a super special connection to the land and had to be given that special connection and didn't, like, historically shape and influence and change the ecosystems and flora and fauna in permanent and far-reaching ways, over many tens of thousands of years and many types of tech and city-building and migration patterns and cultural practices, all as or more diverse than the land they were living on.

the reluctance to attribute cerebrality and deliberately produced technology to anyone not of western european descent is just so so present in this episode and in the character of chakotay. him and the bajorans--their gods are real and their myths are real and not the product of richly-thought traditions and reasoning practices. no, their religion is thus far un-evolved. they're not like the white american characters who aren't praying to jesus bc christ is a made-up god and those white people have moved on (""evolved"" maybe, ughhh) and separated themselves from nature and their base instincts about religiosity. no they still pray to their gods who can absolutely answer their prayers if they wanted to.

the thing is. it's just oppression 101 to construct a binary and make one half of that binary Human Beings with Great Minds and the other half Adjacent Human Beings Who Are Close to Nature. like all the oppressions work through that basic framework.

the impulse to use indigeneity as an entry point into environmentalism isn't ridiculous. but people (i mean, white european "philosophy") miss the whole step where the reason you often see tribes making such headway with environmental activism is because they are being politically astute and they recognize that "land" being abstracted in the way it has been since Locke (and obviously before that but Locke is the most relevant thinker in terms of like land policy?) is actually irrational. you can't just build a tube of poison over a water-source. that is Idiotic. that is a thing that Unthinking beings do. iron eyes cody crying over pollution on a highway is not an accurate representation of the land-rights justice that tribes all over the americas have been fighting for.

the thing about "myth" and "fantasy" is that they are philosophies. they inform and represent great abstract and fully-reasoned ideas. and this episode so easily could've been about that. when we start with the flashback of young chakotay noticing the symbol on the rock and his dad praising him and chakotay saying "i only saw it because of a lizard," i thought that could be a way to show how lived experiences allow different people to notice different things about the world. it's not magic, it's practice and thought. but the episode just goes on and on, getting further and further into the racist ideas of the innocent and close-to-nature natives, the "noble savage", and the idea that any great insight originating in a non-white people came from aliens.

(and somehow these biases get transported to the bajoran characters, all of whom are actually played by white characters, which shows how these biases are an actual paradigm and not some sort of 'instinctual prejudice' like racists like to claim their racism is--i.e., not their fault and can't be unlearned.)

this got me thinking about "far beyond the stars." how it works as a futurism and as a comment on racism now. how the futurism is in fact an argument: that the future belongs to everyone; that exploration and great thoughts and great adventures belong to everyone; how this can be framed as inevitable because it is right; how imagining it so is the first step towards actualization; how people are thinkers and they will make a world that is so expansive and so egalitarian that a black man will captain and discover and exist in the stars and among wonder and different people and so much life. and this works as a speculative piece because there is present in its foundation the idea is justice is not retrospective. as going back is impossible, people build forward. sisko imagines forward, and even as he's imagining backward to being a scifi writer in the 20th century, he's still imagining forward.

this episode, "tattoo," completely misses how "far beyond the stars" functioned. how speculation and futurism work as commentaries on the past and the now. it's particular and personal and doesn't imply that an alien species is the reason for any future liberation. or that innocence is a virtue. or that such innocence is due to "protecting the land" (which means one thing and one thing only) and thus gives one magical powers over the weather.

personally, i think chakotay should've found descendants of his tribe from earth on that alien planet--not aliens. i think the episode should've been about how that symbol for peace or something was a symbol for some sort of logical proof of sorts and these descendants should've used it as a technology that could affect the weather through some sci-fi star-treky technobabble that enables telepathy. i think this advancement should've been fundamentally rooted in what the descendants learned long ago on earth by studying the stars and birds and building cities and pyramids. philosophies that are entrenched and informed by a deep understanding of the natural world, expressed not just through tech but through spiritual practice, while not being relegated to """"primitivity.""""

but also i'm definitely not the best person to ask. and the main problem here is that they made up a tribe and put themselves in a position of not really being able to ask anyone.

like i loved chakotay being able to reexamine his past and his relationship to his father and his connection to the galaxy at large. i loved that he found a semi-home so so far away from his own planet. i love that they wrote a character doing that, finding a place of true belonging seventy-thousand light years away. i think that's an interesting as well as important story to tell. but the framing and argument provided in the episode undercut that story so much.

anyway as i am not the person to ask, i'll just leave this excerpt from a paper written by a much much smarter person than me about a sci-fi movie made by navajo filmmaker nanobah becker about the project of cultivating mars:

"Science Fiction, Westerns, and the Vital Cosmo-ethics of The 6th World," Salma Monani

#before anyone clicks 'keep reading'--this is long #chakotay #star trek #voyager #i love all the voyager characters so much (except maybe neelix--annoying) and i hate to see them in weak weak weak writing

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