O'Shae Sibley was a young Black man killed at a gas station in Brooklyn while he was vogueing to Beyonce. The community turned out to honor his life by holding a ball.
This is what non-queer people need to understand when we say our existence and survival is not just against many odds, but an act of revolution.
Don't just bear witness, celebrate.
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hi! may i request some mikoto + amane (platonic obvs) … anything? they are very dear to me 😭
Yes!!! Thank you so much for the request -- they really are such a good pair ;-; (The thing is, I had so many nice scenes in mind about how they parallel each other, but they wouldn't know or reveal that about each other so I kept restarting...) Anyway, here's something right after Mikoto's first trial/verdict!
Mikoto could pick up on someone’s bad mood from a mile away, though the skill was unnecessary when the other party very clearly and calmly informed him, “I’m in a bad mood.”
After refusing his offer, Amane turned back to a thick textbook she’d been taking notes on. Didn’t kids usually complain that school was already a prison? She must have wanted the full experience. He'd worked nonstop at his studies as well, but this was a new level. Amane often reminded him of his little sister, though she always took the extra step like this. His sister would have jumped at this opportunity to play a few rounds of their favorite card game.
“It’ll be fun!”
He flashed a smile, but it had no effect on her severe expression. “I know you’re just trying to comfort me about our verdicts. I refuse to be pitied.”
“Comfort and pity are two very different things. But anyway, it wasn’t either of those things.” He gave an easy shrug “To be honest, I’m just a little bored. It’s weird not having any work to do during the day.”
Mikoto couldn’t remember the last time in his life he’d had so many hours to himself. A lot of the others were fun to play games with. A few of the sportier prisoners helped him stay active. He enjoyed smoking breaks with the other men. Still, he was left to his own devices for the majority of his time. It was maddening. He’d recently requested some more art supplies, having used up the last batch, but they had yet to come in. Now with the verdict announcement, he wasn’t sure they’d ever arrive.
“That is your own problem. I already have something to do.” Her eyes lingered on the cards for the briefest of moments before returning to the book. “I told you, I’m not in the mood for it.”
Regardless of her hostility, he took a seat beside her. He leaned his arms out on the table. “We don’t have to play the same game.” The last time they'd played as a big group, several prisoners pulling the tables together to fit everyone. Amane had kept very quiet, eyes darting around at the cards as she tried to keep up with the rules. Not many of the others noticed the frustration clear in her face. Mikoto wasn’t the type to let her win out of pity, though he had begun to mutter the rules and strategies to himself a bit more as the night went on…
“Is there a game you liked to play at home?”
“No. There was no time for games in the house.”
“All work and no play… hah… I know what that’s like.” He slumped his cheek onto his arm, lazily shuffling the cards around. He felt bad for bothering the girl if she truly was upset. He thought it was the bad experience that made her reject him, he hadn’t realized there were also family issues attached. Usually he could read people well; maybe he was losing his touch. He seemed to be losing touch with a lot of things, these days.
He readied a game of solitaire.
“Mikoto?” Amane kept her face turned away. “There was… one game.”
“Yeah?” Mikoto shuffled the cards back together. He slid them over to her. “You should teach me!”
She didn’t touch them. “You probably already know it.”
“Nah, I only know a few games. I’m better with tarot cards, though those aren’t really the gaming type. Come on, what is it?”
She told him the name of the game, insisting it wouldn’t be worth playing. She kept her attention on the textbook, but her eyes weren’t reading any of it.
“Ahh, I’ve heard of that one! We start with four cards, right?” He started dealing them out.
“No, five –” she pointed to the deck, urging him to add two more.
“Right, right.” He laughed lightly. “And the goal is to get pairs, and put them in a pile, uhh, here.”
Amane shook her head. She shifted her body slightly towards him. “You must be thinking of a different game. There’s actually three piles for pairs. One here, one here, and when it’s your opponent’s turn…”
Her eyes gleamed as she explained the rules. She pointed to various cards, telling him exact moves and point values. “And to win, you need to –” Her expression shifted. “You… you already knew all this.”
“Of course not!” He put on his most convincing smile.
She deflated. “You’re not a very good liar.”
“Tch, tell that to the warden.”
His shoulders sagged along with her. If Amane could see right through him, why was the rest of Milgram still coming up with stories about what he did and didn’t do? “Well, I might already know the rules, but it’s been a long time since I’ve played. You can still give me a hand. Plus, if you really are in such a bad mood, it’ll be good to take a break from your studies. You should always take a break when things get too overwhelming, yeah?”
She gave him a withering stare.
“Eh? What’s that face for?”
“Alright, let’s play. You can go first.”
“I mean it, what was that look? Aw, come on…”
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novem-bur day 25: amogus. fwiatc edition!
me when the uh. when the impostor is sus haha
anyways words r lyrics from "scapegoat" by ghost and pals and uhhh. dont ask why the guy from among us is like the angstiest bur in fwiatc but also im going to tell you anyways (under the cut !)
prompt list
fwiatc link
um. so this is imp (short for 'impostor') and [REDACTED] (he has a name but its not revealed yet because he. hasnt talked to anyone but imp in the fic yet unless you count when editor saw him which i absolutely dont. anyways) and theyre the burs from among us ! yes burs plural . bc imp is the Impostor and [REDACTED] is the Crewmate and i made among us worldbuilding bc i love science fiction a normal amount.
so basically "impostors" (thats what humans call them), aka what imp is, are a 'hostile' alien species who 'possess' and kill other intelligent species, mostly on cargo ships ! the reason for this is. not yet revealed in fwiatc technically but one can kind of draw conclusions. but the main driving factor is what you see in the background of this art- a star getting sucked into a black hole. yes thats a black hole In my defense no one really knows what they look like !
anyways the 'impostors' are shape-shifting alien parasitoids who infect and take over a host in order to Do Their Job. and originally imp was supposed to be like a straight-up antagonist whos like rly bad and a murderer etcetc and he Is a murderer he kills [REDACTED] (different guy. spoilers lmao) but i made myself emotional over him and now hes just a silly little guy with a million identity crises because i said so!
uhh TLDR i made among us backstory, got attached to the murderer i made, and now imp and [REDACTED] are two of my favorite burs. i love them and i need to run them over with an 18-wheeler
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