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#while i KNOW if that was a black gay man he would have STRUGGLED to even be in one direction or have a solo career in peace
jakehoon · 1 year
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not the jyp look alike winning over bey as aoty and throwing the most privilege out of touch comment out there.
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loserdiaz · 4 days
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no but i can't stop about eddie finding queering the map and being overwhelmed by the amount of stories that resonate with him.
it starts with buck, because of course it does.
buck comes into the station one day, rambling about this site he found online. he's still figuring out bisexuality for himself and has been going down a rabbit hole ever since, reading endless articles and reddit stories and experiences told from so many people.
and something about it, about this particular site, catches eddie's attention. he really can't stop thinking about it, wondering if people from el paso would have any of those pins. if anyone from the place he grew up in, was raised in, ever felt like him.
he can't stop wondering if maybe he was never as alone as he thought he was.
when he gets home, he decides to look for himself— it takes him a while. there's too many black pins and he doesn't quite know how to navigate the huge map on his screen. it takes him a few minutes to get the hang of it.
but when he does— oh, when he does.
right there in el paso, people from the same streets he once rode his bike in, are sharing his experiences. fellow soldiers in the same base eddie trained at.
eddie reads these sacred, secret little messages and feels his heart expand more and more with every each one of them.
some of them makes him laugh and chuckle, teary eyed but amused, like "even the army has gays," and "from one gay cowboy to another."
others, nake him falter. make his bretah hitch inside his chest. make something beautiful and fragile and orecious uncurl from the deepest depths of his soul. make him feel seen in a way he isn't sure he's quite ready to.
messages like— "you're not the only one," and "you'll be okay." "the heaven the people from this town speak of, is not a heaven i wanna be sent to." "i should've told him when i had the chance." "stuck in a warzone, thinking about how i wasted so much time and now i might not make it home to him."
messages that hit a little too close to home. from soldiers still in the closet, struggling to accept themselves and living a lie.
messages from dumb teenagers, scared of the future— just like eddie had been once.
messages from people braver than he ever could be, sharing the stories of how they came out to their families and moved across the country to be able to live their truest selves.
eddie spends hours and hours just reading post after post, goingbthrough as many lins as he can and drinking them in as a dying, thirsting man in the middle of the driest desert. he reads until the light from the comouter makes his head hurt and his eyes burn everytime he blinks.
at the end, before closing the tab, he decides to put on his own note.
📍not sure if I'll ever be ready to say it out loud, but I love him. i'm too late. I've lost my chance. this changes nothing, my heart is still in his hands.
he clicks on add and feels the tiniest amount of weight lifting from his shoulders.
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Record of Justice: Wonder Woman! Reader HCs
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I am so gay for Diana.
- Brunhilde doesn't HESITAITE to choose you as one of her champions, seeing as you're both demi-gods who come from a warrior race of women, I can see you and her honestly having a lot in common together.
- But yeah, no, Diana's whole thing is that she wants to save the world of man so even of Brunhilde didn't choose her, you would have still chosen to fight because it was your duty.
- So Wonder Woman has multiple origins: Her original one being that she was born from clay by her mother but there are versions she has a dad which kinda switches between Hades and Zeus. Zeus will be your father in this case because I genuinely like the idea of him blowing his fucking gasket when he sees you enter in the side of humanity.
- "YOU KNOW HER, YOU LOVE HER: LADIES AND GENTLEGODS, GIVE IT UP FOR THE AMAZONIAN PRINCESS AND SAVIOR OF MAN: (Y/N)!!!"
- Ares and Wonder Woman have so much beef in the comics so you and him definetly don't see eye to eye now. In fact, Ares would fight you himself if he could but like, you're also kinda scary when you're mad.
- Zeus and Poseidon are literally about to blow a fucking gasket when they see you. Zeus is more subtle as usual as he's all: "Oh, well she's always been the black sheep of the family!" but in reality, he feels deeply betrayed. Poseidon isn't surprised honestly, he genuinely believes you should have grown up with the Olympians instead of on Themyscira because then maybe you'd learn to look down on those pathetic humans instead of protecting them.
- Tbh, Poseidon does have a bit of a soft spot for you as his niece because you're the only one whose ever DARED to back talk him despite knowing his power. He wishes your mother, Hippolyta, wasn't such a stubborn woman. I can totally see moments when you're absolutely destroying Gods and Poseidon just smiling proudly at you but then quickly scowling so no one can see him.
- However the Greek Gods who explicitly still care for you are definetly Hermes, Hercules, and Aphrodite.
- Aphrodite, being your big sister, absolutely adores you even if you two aren't on the same side. She smiles when she sees you and if she can, she will try to catch you in the hallways and pull you into a hug, meanwhile you're kinda suffocating in her bosom. She compliments you on what a strong and beautiful woman you've become, the only reason she isn't upset with you for "betraying" the family is because...well, you've always been like that. It's just nice to see you again♡
-As for Hercules, you both are Demi gods and while you acknowledge humanities faults, you welcomed him with open arms and appreciate his dedication. You two might not be bound by blood but the way you carry each other's ideals and respect and tease each other, its very clear you two have an unbreakable bond.
- Hermes adored you since you were born. Despite Themyscira's laws that men weren't allowed on the island, he was a God, and would happily come and see you to play with you. Taking on a big brother role in your life, he smiles softly as you glare at your father and he thinks you're just as cute as when you were a little toddler struggling to walk on the sandy beach coast of your island.
- As for the human side, they're all in literal wonder of you...which makes sense regarding your hero alias, but when they watched you at work: you impressed everyone while Brunhilde smiled at you and it pissed Zeus off even more when you both shook hands and sent him smug smirks on your faces.
Enemies/People Who Dislike You:
- Ares is a huge hater as I stated before, maybe you humiliated him in the past in front of Zeus, or maybe it was that one time you stole his helmet in a fight and became the New Goddess of War for a while but either way: you and him should never be in the same room together because not even the Gods can predict that disaster.
- Loki thought the rope thing was kinda hot but found out the hard way WHY it was called the Lasso of Truth. Even when he is shaped shifted, he will revert to his normal form if you ever catch him with it AND YOU ALWAYS FUCKING DO. He also can't even try and mislead you by telling you half truths because he just blurts out the truth right away. Everyone absolutely adores you for it, ngl since Loki doesn't even bother pulling tricks when you're around and when he sees you fight for humanity, he throws a huge tantrum...He still finds the rope thing hot tho...
- Zeus. He has conflicted feelings for you, he does love you but he wishes you wouldn't always go against his wishes...though he supposes thats what he gets for having your mother raise you instead of him. You show him respect but you clearly harbour bitter feelings for him betraying your trust and wanting to wipe out humanity and he understands that. It still doesn't give you the right to laugh about him with Brunhilde and he'll be sure to get you back for it.
Allies/Friends Who Trust You:
- Brunhilde is honestly a good friend of yours, I genuinely think she sees you the same way she sees Hercules but she relates to you a little more. (The Valkyries and Amazon's would have martinis on the beaches of Themyscira, fight me on that-)
- Shiva, honestly. He likes that you're strict but you can definetly be fun and silly in your own way. You honestly remind him of Rudra, who he totally tries to set you up with so because you two really have a lot in common!
- Obviously Hercules, Hermes, and Aphrodite but also: Poseidon, surprisingly...sometimes. Again, he does soften a bit when it comes to you and he wonders if you're simply stubborn and brave or stubborn and stupid. You are his favorite niece but also, the one that causes him to roll his eyes the most.
- Honestly, all of the Valkyries. When you heard about Brunhilde and her Völundr's, you knew that it was clever but also: that you couldn't just stand to let your fellow sisters in battle fall, the odds being against them. Also, the will all hug you and tackle you to the ground.
- Sasaki Kojiro is a human you take a liking too, he reminds you of a friend whose clad in all black...except he's more cheerful and happy and might have lost in life, but still: he never gives up. You admire those skills in a human and he gets all shy and flustered when you compliment him but I can totally see the both of you practicing sword fights and even moments where he beats you, which you're proud of him for doing, honestly.
- Adam. He genuinely just is the dad Zeus never was, even though you're not one of his own children, he'll fight like you are. Tbh, the only man that deserves to set foot in Themyscira and the other Amazon's would agree. Eve also gossiping with your Hippolyta in the crowd and complimenting her on raising such a wonderful daughter and they talk about mom things.
Admirers/Characters Who Have a Crush on You:
- Thor, just straight up. Since you're a fellow immortal, you two have somewhat known each other, you didn't really care much for the godly affairs so it wasn't often, but he's had the biggest crush on you. When he saw you fight so fearlessly in the crowd, those feelings came back 10 fold. Definetly wants to fight you because that's his way of flirting. Zeus and Odin 100% want to pair you two together to create an official alliance and while Thor wants you to choose him out of your own volition, he will suggest that it is a good idea.
- Jack the Ripper. HE HAS BISEXUAL PANIC BECAUSE HERCULES WAS ALREADY SOKIND TO HIM BUT YOU?? OH, YOU'RE TRULY DESERVING OF THE TITLE OF GODDESS, your color is so gorgeous; filled with such love and passion. After his battle, after he killed Hercules, he is ashamed to face you. But, amazingly, you do not look at him in disgust or shame. You kneel down and gently hold his face, you are in mourning, but you still kiss his head gently and tell him: "You fought well. Rest." and he just short circuits as you begin to carry him.
- BUDDHA, BABY. He loves how serious you are but also, that you can be pretty goofy honestly. Also loves how you stand up to Zeus constantly. Not to mention he certainly has a thing for strong women. But also, he finds your work inspiring, trying to guide humanity to a better life of enlightment. HIPPOLYTA ALSO TRYING TO SET YOU TWO UP BECAUSE SHE'S A COOL MOM AND SHE'S ALL: "You know, that Buddha has been staring at you~" and you have to be all: "MOTHER!" And he walks over to you and offers you a snack and you take it. Zeus hates him because he thinks Buddha would be a "bad influence" on you.
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sanzaibian · 2 months
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Life is really unjust.
My name is Killian Ndiaye, and I’m intimately acquainted with its bad side. My father died while I was young, leaving me to be raised along with my younger sisters by only my ma. We weren’t rich by any means, so it meant that my ma made ridiculous hours at her job, and that us, when old enough, had to pitch in with part-time jobs.
Thankfully, I was quite an intelligent kid, and still managed to have quite good grades. However, that didn’t mean that school life was easier, as I was always labeled as the “poor nerd” in class, wearing the few simple clothes I owned and sporting the buzzcut my ma cut for me. As she always said, others just cared more about looks than about life.
However, this was not the last of my struggles, quite the countrary as it turned out that I wasn’t the cis straight man I was supposed to become. High school was formative in that sense, as it’s in there that I noticed that I wasn’t into girls like the other guys my age were, and like ma expected me to be.
I… had a very hard time admitting that I was gay. Ma always told me that those “queers” didn’t know what life was like, and that they were just living carelessly, wasting their parent’s efforts… I didn’t want to wast my ma’s efforts, as I love her, yet I couldn’t hide from the truth. I’m gay, and that’s just it.
I vainly thought that I just needed not to be like “those gays”, those who live in the hairdresser’s, the clothing store and the clubs, looking all like fairies, and that everything was going to be alright. How shameful it was when, at 17, I started questioning my gender, so disconnected I feel to masculinity and other men’s experiences, and so uncomfortable I am with the facial hair that just won’t stop growing…
I thought that if I just suppressed it, if I was just the most “normal” I could be, then everything was going to be alright. That perhaps, I just needed to alleviate a bit my dysphoria, and everything was going to be alright.
However, my ma is a very observant person. As I was approaching majority, she started to make comments about a girlfriend, and about me stubbornly shaving my face. I just dismissed those questions, still foolishly hoping that everything would end well.
When I was 18, she asked me whether I was gay. I couldn’t lie to my ma.
And we arrive to now, a few years later. My ma “didn’t want a fairy in her house”, so I stayed with a few friends. But when they went to college and I couldn’t, I was left to fend for myself alone. Now, I live in the streets, and spend my time alternating between finding part-time work and begging in the city. I do it whenever I need to go somewhere, and though I don’t do anything illegal – I even spend some of my meager funds on a transports card – it absolutely does not mean that I’m suddenly well-liked.
Few are those who spare any money. And on top of that, because I’m a black man, I hear plenty of racist comments. As if they thought I didn’t hear them asking me to “return to my country”, even though I’m already there…
And the most depressing fact of this all is, because I can’t really shave anymore, my dysphoria is going through the roof. My life is hell, but I keep at it in the vain hope that I’ll be able to climb back to a respectable life.
However, today was especially terrible. I had found an interesting job of installing the equipment for a big concert, and actually ventured quite far from the center of the city to go to the big theater. When I arrived there, they told me that they weren’t looking for anyone, they had all the help they needed. Dejected, I left, but as I was leaving, another young guy entered. I hang out a bit to hear what was going on, and I heard that he was hired for the temporary job. I guess they thought I would steal from them or something…
It’s so unfair ! I love music, and at school always wanted to do something that had a link to it ! I was so hyped to work in this job ! I thought that if I worked hard enough, people would even notice me and my good knowledge of the equipment, and would consider me as a good partner for further work ! But, as ever, all those dreams were, once again, cut short…
On the way back, I started begging, but as I reached the back of the first bus, I saw what looked like a man in a dress, wearing makeup and nail polish, being harassed by an older-looking woman.
“(…) and any sensible person ! How do you expect me to do nothing while a pervert is preparing to go to women’s bathrooms and assault girls ? You should be ashamed of endangering others !
- Miss... please stop… I swear I won’t do anything bad…” The person in a dress said, clearly on the brink of tears.
- And how can I trust you ? I know you snakes, you’re just saying this to then go and continue your business unharmed !”
As she was about to continue harassing that person, I decided I needed to step in. I want there to be justice at least somewhere, even if it can’t be in my life. I step between her and the person in a dress, and ask calmly :
“Miss, please stop. They are clearly really hurt by your comments, and everybody around us is uncomfortable with this display.” I say, as I watch everyone else looking away, as if nothing’s happening. Courage shines ever so hard…
- Oh, now a beggar is coming ? You should go back to your country or find a goddamn job rather than profiting off of our hard work !” She said, clutching her designer bag, as if I was going to steal it.
- Miss, these comments are really racist. Please stop.” I stay, choosing to remain calm and composed.
- What, can’t I say what things are ? That’s really all the wokist’s fault, nowadays we can’t say anything, we have to walk on eggshells at all times ! I’m not racist, but if you want racism to stop, you have to stop overreacting at everything !”
She looks at me with a smug look, as I’m about to lose it. I can’t answer anything, because, unfortunately, one can’t argue out of nonsense ! Especially someone like me who’s not trained in rhetoric – I had part-time jobs at the time !
… at least, I can shield that person with a dress from further harassment. I look behind, and see them smiling to me, thankful for my help. If I can help at least one person, I’ll be happy.
Suddenly, the sound of thunder rings in my ears.
No one seems to be bothered by it, save for the old woman who seems to be just as uncomfortable as I am. I turn to see the person I was protecting, however their eyes glow an unnatural color… What’s-
Before I can even try and understand what’s happening, a headache strikes, and I instinctively put my hand on my face. Fuck, I hope I haven’t gotten a cold or something, medication is hard to come by…
As I’m holding my face, a few fingers make their way in my beard (ugh). But suddenly, I feel it shifting. Intrigued, I touch my beard more thoroughly, and feel the hairs receding, growing smaller and smaller, until they finally come back under my skin.
How did that happen ? I mean, I like not having a beard, but still, it’s not normal… I look in front of me and it seems that the woman is losing wrinkles. What’s happening !
The bus stops. Quite a few people leave. Why was I here ? … yes, I had to do something with the people on it… was it work ? I don’t quite remember…
However, as I look around me, I suddenly notice that the people who looked away previously looked a little bigger. As if they were… bulking up ? As I notice that, I feel pain on my body. When I look down, it seems that my undernourished body looks more healthy… No, not just healthy, it looks… muscular ? I’m… inflating, somehow ?
The bus starts again, yet this time, its course seems smoother… I look in front of me and notice that the old – now young – woman’s hair is now tied up in a bun. Almost instinctively, I take my hand to my hair, and feel it moving.
What was a short messy afro is growing, however, something even weirder happens. As it grows, I feel strands joining, growing into large spirals. It’s no longer a sponge-like mass, it’s more like… coils ? My hand presses less and less. I need to be careful about my hair, I don’t want to have to go to the hairdresser again !
I stop myself at my thoughts. Hairdresser ? They’re a waste of time ! Only those who don’t care about life – or don’t have to care about life – go to those and try to look good. Yet… it feels good. No, actually, it feels... right…
Like, it’s right to want to look good ? I mean, look at me, I have muscles, I have good hair, I look good ! Suddenly, I feel my t-shirt straightening and softening. I look down as its color drains, and it splits in the middle. I smirk, and as the collar hardens and folds, I open it the shirt up to the middle of my chest, right as buttons materialize.
The woman in front of me, now sporting a much more formal costume, sighs and gives me a black jacket. I take it and put it on expertly on top of my dress shirt, fitting it right down to the belt holding my dark jeans. She then sits on one of the seats, more in the front of the bus.
She really looks stylish, as one should… after all, fashion is the be-all and end-all ! One of the other passengers comes to me, quite a muscular guy dressed in a black suit, and starts putting makeup on me. I close my eyes as foundation, concealer, mascara, and tattoos are put on my face and body. I can do it all myself, but having a professional do it is always better. That’s why I always go around accompanied.
I suddenly open my eyes. What the hell is happening ! I don’t have a tattoo ! I don’t do makeup ! Hair and clothes suffice ! ...
I scratch my shaved sides, until I reach my earrings. Yeah, it suffices… good hair, good clothes, good makeup and good accessories… it suffices…
“Are you good, Mx. Ndiaye ?” The makeup artist asks me.
- Yes, don’t worry, I’m good.” I say, with a deep yet feminine voice. It seems wrong somehow…
- Do you want to see the results ?
- Of fucking course !”
The makeup artist grabs a pocket mirror and holds it to me.
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Oh yeah, I’m so fucking gender ! Plus my necklaces oozes fanciness. Like, it makes me look so fucking rich !
I look around me. The vehicle somehow seems more… cramped, even though at the same time it seems more spacious, with its large seats. My head hurts, it really feels like something is wrong…
Suddenly, the limousine stops. Annoyed, I shout to the chauffeur :
“Magdalena ! Why the hell are you stopping ? We’re not at the villa yet !”
The chauffeur looks back. Wasn’t she an old grumpy woman just now ? She looks so young and has such fancy clothes, even though it’s quite clear that she isn’t from high society.
Ugh, my head really hurts...
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“I’m sorry, Mx. Ndiaye, we have new guests to pick up at your request.”
I look around and see that person with a dress leaving. Suddenly, it all comes back as a flash of light. I’m not supposed to be an ultra-rich person, I don’t need all of these fancy clothes and accessories ! … I’M SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE STREETS !
That person, as if they were reading in my mind, answers in a rich and deep yet slightly unsettling feminine voice :
“You have the gratitude of the calamities, Mx. Ndiaye. Accept this… gift.” They say, smiling as they get out, followed by the makeup artist and one of my two personal guards – the other staying at the front of the vehicle.
Suddenly, it’s as if a fog descends on my mind. Like, what was I thinking about ? Oh, yeah, I was thinking about my next song that I’ll film in the villa ! Ugh, it’s so annoying that my agent asks me to pump out banger after banger like, I have all the money in the world… but I guess it’s alright to work a little. This way, I get famous and get laid, and that’s the only thing that really matters.
As I’m about to shout on the chauffeur to ask why she’s not turning the limousine back on, two guys, a cute twink and hot hunk, climb aboard. I lick my lips. It’s gonna be a great night.
“So, guys,” I say, letting them take place in my arms at my right and my left. “have you heard of my new song that’s gonna come out ? If you’re good enough, I might even let you in in the filming for the clip…”
And the limousine sets off.
The sun comes to my eyes, and I wake up in a giant luxurious queen bed, with my two conquests sleeping tight at my left and my right.
I smile as I get up, naked. Yesterday’s clothes were flung in all directions, and as I approach them, I see they’re all crumpled. I chuckle. We had a ton of fun last night… Besides, Magdalena’s gonna be the one to pick that all up.
I take from the closet a nice pair of white pants and a white shirt, and put them on quickly. I go to the balcony, and look at the view.
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Life is really unjust.
I get to live the perfect life, while others are left to pick up the remaining pieces.
But when you’re on its good side,
Life is fucking lit.
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zyonsay · 8 months
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Blinding Lights
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Warnings: NSFW-> guk guk 3000,Alcohol, Gay shit
Reader: Male
Word count: 1'655 Words
Song i listened to while writing: "I threw at my friend's eyes and now im on probation" by Destroy Boys
AN: Hey :] Lemme know what u thought about this! Im open for tips, as i still struggle with writing. Also this is like the first time i wrote smut. Deadass. But anyways, Enjoy!
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Your black military boots made a slouching, wet sound as you walked through the city streets of London. It had rained earlier, but that didn’t stop you from having fun at the club.
The entrance that greeted you looked absolutely disgusting, the only thing you’d expect to occupy the old sewage system would be rats or some old, sick stray dogs. But behind the big, withered cloth that probably inhabited maggots a dimly lit, colorful tunnel hid itself. It was covered in Graffiti and colorful bottles hung from the ceiling. Loud music could be heard from the other end, which was covered by a dark blue curtain, resembling the night sky you had abandoned just a few minutes ago.
The colorful lights blinded you temporarily, but you felt right at home. This was one of the less popular meet up spots for underground artist and queer people. It wasn’t just some nightclub, it was a safe space for all kinds of people, that’s why you loved it so much. You too were very much part of the LGBTQ+ community, so you sought out your nightclubs very carefully. Being involved in a hate crime wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, obviously.
 Some unknown band was absolutely tearing up the stage with their messily decorated instruments. People were dancing, drinking, and singing. It was a big chaos, but you felt at peace, surrounded by your people. The big, broad room was filled with a bar, a few sofas and the stage and it was also thoroughly decorated with graffiti, more colorful bottles, and fairy lights.
You ordered yourself some alcohol, vodka being your favorite. The band was finishing up their last song, then thanked the lively crowd. Then another band stepped foot on the stage, their guitarist and lead singer looking familiar. You’ve seen him around a lot, but you’ve never talked to him. You were basically eye banging him, he looked very good. The way his eyeliner had already smudged made him even more attractive. It almost seemed like he read your thoughts, because he stared right at you, a big grin plastered on his face. You thought it might’ve just been your imagination, the crowd was way too big for him to have looked at you specifically.
The band began performing their first song, the mass of people around you immediately started dancing and singing. Everybody was having a good time, including you. You were dancing with your drink still in your hand, gripping it tightly as the alcohol was way too expensive for you to spill it. You directed your glance towards the stage again, wanting to grace your eyes with the hot man shredding his guitar solo. People were cheering and clapping for the young man, showing him exactly how amazing he is. He continued singing the lyrics to his song and while doing so he grinded against the mic stand, firing on his ego even more.
People were screaming at his cheeky action, a drowned “GET ME PREGNANT!!!” could be heard from the other side of the crowd, many people laughing at that. The punk on stage was smirking at that, though he was seemingly looking at you again.
Now shit got absolutely wild, he was pointing at you and then pointed to the door, which hid a storage room for the band’s instruments. You grinned at him, taking another sip of your drink. He then sang along to the suggestive lyrics of his song, looking at you again, making a very distinctive gesture with his hands. He wanted you to blow him. You felt hazy, blood rushing to your face as you smirked at him, nodding while raising your drink to him.
His band finished their set, people were cheering them on, excited for their next song. Meanwhile a young woman went on stage and announced a campaign for disabled people, receiving a lot of cheers and support.
You on the other hand had made your way to the storage room, feeling a hot, burning feeling in your core. Your cheeks were slightly reddened – whether it was from the alcohol or from your excitement, no one knows. You must admit, giving a blowie to a random guitarist wasn’t the most unhinged thing you’ve ever done. You really didn’t care to be modest anyways.
Then suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to spin around and look at whoever was behind you. You were greeted with two beautiful brown eyes and a cheeky grin.  
“Sorry if I put you on the spot there, mate” You smirked at him, then replied “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t want to, but who would say no to you?” You smiled, checking the person opposing you. He was tall and handsome, something mischievous glimmering in his eyes. He smiled at you, slowly growing impatient, since there wasn’t much time in between his band’s sets.
He led you into the storage rooms, revealing a sofa and wall covered in mirrors. This was probably where the bands waited for their performance and could freshen up their makeup. “By the way, I’m Hobie Brown.” The man now known to you as Hobie sat down on the sofa, gesturing you to come over. “Names’ Y/N.” You muttered with a smile, eyeing the bulge building up in the punk’s pants. You shifted closer to Hobie, not wanting to waste too much time. You settled between his legs, kneeling on the orange and pink patterned carpet.
You started fiddling with his belt, looking up with your big eyes, almost looking innocent if it wasn’t on the big smirk on your visage. “Ready?”, you were barely whispering. The young man, who was looking down at you with a grin only nodded his head. You opened up his jeans, slightly pulling them down to give you space for slutty activities. You touched his member through his plain grey boxers, that already had a wet spot on them, revealing his excitement. Hobie let out an impatient groan, wanting you all over him this instant. You quickly got rid of the remaining cloth in your way, your own erection pressing painfully against your jeans. You took his cock in your hand, Hobie hissed at the feeling of your soft hands around him.  You pumped him slowly, before leading your lips towards his tip, enjoying yourself a lot. “Mmmhhhh…” The man above you threw his head back. You then took more of his dick into your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You swirled your tongue along his shaft, earning quiet grunts and sighs from Hobie. He gripped a handful of your fluffy hair, slightly fucking into your mouth.
He looked at you through lust filled eyes, a pleading expression painting his face. “Can I fuck your mouth?”, he whimpered.
 You nodded, slowly letting his member out of your mouth. He stood up, facing your kneeling figure. You got right back to savoring him, as he held you by your hair again. He then began thrusting into your mouth, enjoying the wet, warm feeling. He still held back some of his length, waiting for you to look at him with your doe eyes. He smirked down at you, whispering something along the lines of “Get ready, darling”.
 You took the rest of his cock into your mouth, tears building in the corner of your eyes. Hobie fucked your throat slowly at first, but quickly fell into a more violent pace. You glanced to the side, seeing a sinful scene playing in the mirrors covering the wall. It could’ve well been a baroque painting on the wall of a filthy rich art critique. But there you were, in an underground nightclub, full of drunk queers, sucking off a musician. 
Hobie was now thrusting at a devilish fast pace, using you like a cheap toy to get off on. He looked at you, grinning at your face. “You gonna swallow, like the good little slut you are?” You nodded slightly, not wanting to disturb his pleasure. Your own dick was pulsing in your pants, starved from any kind of stimulation. You were stabilizing yourself by holding the back of Hobies thigh, feeling slightly dizzy due to alcohol and lust. You wanted to make the man in front of you feel good, even tough you merely met him a few minutes ago.
Your thoughts were cut off by Hobies cock twitching in your mouth, you quickly looked up at him, watching happily as he threw his head back and let out a moan. “Ngahhh… Fuck!” Thick ropes of cum flowed down your throat. You tried your best to swallow all of it, as you didn’t want any of the white fluids landing on the fluffy carpet beneath you. Even though this carpet is probably covered in it anyways, you thought to yourself. This was a messy nightclub after all.
Hobie slowly pulled out, grinning down at you again. He pets your fluffy hair, with you sitting at his feet like an obedient dog. “Good Boy.” The punk zipped his pants up again, as you got up from the floor, straightening your messed up clothes. Paying little to no attention to Hobie, you didn’t expect him to tip your chin up. He captured your lips in a feverish hot kiss, getting a taste of himself. You two then parted, leaving a fragile strand of saliva between you two. Outside of the storage room, a loud voice announced Hobies band again, receiving many loud cheers. “Gotta go sweetheart”, he turned around to leave, when you gripped his wrist gently. You looked at him, smirking.
 “Ya wanna come home with me later?”, you received a mischievous look from the man. You cocked your eyebrow, wanting an answer. Hobie then leaned forward, leaving a small kiss on your neck. “Deffo.” He then left the storage room, leaving you with weak legs. You were definitely planning to take this man home tonight.
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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months
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fic rec friday 37
hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.
1. Fade to Black by @yokohogawa
Things between Keith and Lance are changing but Keith is restless, especially with Shiro still weak, and ends up taking a bad decision: he leaves Lance alone in the Castle with a Lion he cannot pilot. Unable to form Voltron without the newly appointed Red Paladin, the four Paladins left struggle against the sudden attack of a Galra ship and later on take damage from the explosion of a star in close proximity. Lance, on the other end, is left to defend the Castle by himself and has little time to succeed: without energy, the Lions have only 6 hours of breathable air. Beyond that point, his friends will be dead.
okay yes technically this series is unfinished. HOWEVER the first two works ARE finished, and they are amazing showstopping incredible etc. tbh im not much of a black paladin lance fan, i genuinely think solo leadership is not what he is suited for, but this fic made me way more open to it. the way he handled severe crises was as fear stricken as it was awe inspiring highly recommend
2. once again i am a child by @lilaclavenders
“You’re not a spare tyre,” Adam interjects.  “I know that,” Lance says, too unsure to sound completely defensive.   “That almost sounded like a question.” “No... it didn’t,” Lance says.
Lance and Adam talk.
i have always been a fan of lance and adam even tho its the most evidence lacking fanon thing in this fandom. its truly just so interesting. and to have lance as a young cadet getting slammed so badly just in so many different directions being given at least one grownup in his corner...its a good read.
3. Lance the language man by @irish-vampire-blog
Lance didn't really try to learn a language. He just, kind of, picks up the basics and then works from there. Its usually unintentional. Ish.
He isn't stupid though. He isn't an idiot. He just isn't the same kind of smart as his friends are.
this kind of smart for lance is so REAL bc no he cannot do like quantum physics or whatever probably but the way he seems to have a pretty innate ability to successfully do many things that he tries. he just can u know?? thats the autism with the gay audacity i would imagine but i love seeing fics like this
4. my boyfriend's back (and you're gonna get in trouble) by teacupfulofbrains
hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back
Keith Kogane has never heard of Vine. Lance McClain takes personal offense to this, and makes it his personal mission to teach his boyfriend to meme. Keith is confused, mostly.
(OR: several instances of Keith not getting the meme™ and two times he did)
I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT RECCED IT BEFORE. yes i am a cringe zillenial who still finds vine funny and quotes it on the internet but truly idc idc. this fic is funny. this fic is cute. established klance my love and light. also keith comparing lances eyes to the star of bombay is some of the gayest shit ever and also the only time i will entertain blue eyed lance
5. The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love by running_downn
Last time something like this happened to Lance, Keith wasn’t there. He’d thought he would have been able to do something if he had been there, or at least if he was, the guilt wouldn’t be so heavy on his chest. But this time he was there. He was right fucking there and he decided that it was infinitly worse.
~
Basically there's a new threat after the Galra and it almost kills Lance. Desperate making out ensues, but it's okay to recognize when it's not the right time for it. Keith cries a lot cause he's older and grizzled and therefore not as emotionally stunted.
green sock reality? team still out fighting as adults and lance isn’t a fucking farmer while the rest of the team isn’t? keith’s abandonment issues treated with respect and dignity and also the acknowledgement that he’s older and therefore mature enough to handle those issues in a way that doesn’t risk a relationship that is important to him? lance understanding all this and using the supportive nature he is known for??? yes yes yes. stellar fic that should have way more hits than it does
that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!
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stationintern · 5 months
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author's note
draco/harry G, 1,322 featuring author Draco Malfoy, his unemployed husband, and an interviewer who seems a little too fixated on their gay little life. but that's just the way of fanfiction baby
BY GEORGIE HARKINS
NOVEMBER 17, 2023
“Draco, one of your admirers is here,” was the first thing I heard upon arriving at Draco Black’s modest country home. After being greeted by a luscious, wild front garden and a rather cantankerous tabby, I was met at the door by Black’s husband, who identified me quite correctly. 
To say it was a surprise to receive the invite for an informal interview would be an understatement. Black, while well-known and heavily awarded, has never been seen in public, and has asked that I keep my descriptions of him, his family, and his home to a minimum. Though, I will do my best, despite the restrictions, to paint of picture of the man behind some of the most inventive and mature fantasy novels the literature world has seen in quite some time. 
A story of the heir to a great name and fortune, caught up in a war steeped in the supremacy of magical people over their non-magical counterparts. The early books paint a picture of childlike wonder, excitement, and naivety, with the threat of what is to come in the later books just around the corner. A devastating struggle between dark and light, with our anti-hero caught up in the shadows, unsure of whether to escape and lose all he holds dear, or stay and sink deeper into the mire. The tale has earned him critical acclaim and household recognition, but, admirably, he’s maintained his privacy, and let his work speak for itself.
The inside of his home–bright, airy, full of greenery–is in sharp contrast to the usually bleak settings of his novels. Decay, both social and physical, has been a key theme across his series of fantasy novels: The Poisoned Heir. Despite this, he surrounds himself with life. We sat down at the kitchen table, where I asked him about this.
“I feel… to write about the breaking down of all we hold dear, we must first appreciate what we have,” Black said, cradling a clay mug of Assam, his preferred brew, “I’ve loved, lost, and rebuilt. We all have. But, to write it on such a grand scale can send me into a sort of… spiral. So, I try to find joy and life in anything I can outside of my work.”
One thing I noticed about Black was the way he seemed to take his time while speaking. I watched him grasp for words from the surrounding air, and told him so.
He laughed, “When I was a boy, I had a quick, sharp tongue. It hasn’t dulled with age, but it’s definitely slowed, and that’s a good thing.”
“A very good thing!” came the voice of his husband from the adjoining living room.
“I’m conducting an interview!” Black called back.
“I’m conducting an interview! ” came the voice again.
“Excuse him.��
“No, no. It’s lovely,” I said, “How long have you two been married?”
His husband is an “unemployed layabout”, in Black’s terms, not mine, whom he met during his days in secondary school. Though they didn’t reconnect until much later in life. He showed me pictures of them together, young and rowdy, casting uneasy glances at each other among friends. Walking down the hallway crowded with photos, I followed their life. From unsure crooked smiles to comfortable family candids, Black claims their love story is one for the ages.
“Twenty years, now. Two children, all grown up.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Isn’t it?” Black replied, looking down into the remains of his tea, pensive, “You know, it was Harry who convinced me to finally publish my novels. I’d thought about it for years, had them all written out.”
“All seven?”
“All seven, just sitting in a drawer!”
“If you hadn’t originally planned on publishing them, then what was the purpose?” I asked. 
Seven novels chronicling the tense political schism in a society of magic users, the journey from innocence to awakening, a war to end all wars– sat in a drawer collecting dust. Except, Black said, his children did hear the same story growing up. Though, less polished. I was reminded of a photo I saw in that hallway, of a little blonde girl resting on a younger Black’s knee, reading from what looked to be some sort of parchment.
“It was therapeutic. A… retelling of my entire life in a way that seemed just as all-encompassing as it felt when it was happening. I was raised to have an incredibly skewed moral compass, and as time went on I began to heal, and reframe, but there was always this need to let it out. All of it, every last bit, so I could see it laid out before me.”
“So, you wrote.”
Black nodded, “I wrote. Only then could I truly understand myself and the world around me.”
“Based on what you’ve said, is it correct to assume that the main character is based on yourself?” 
“In a sense. I think my biggest fear during the publishing process was that people would not sympathize with Lucien… that they would see his redemption as undeserved, a feeling I’ve carried my whole life.”
Lucien, the anti-hero of the series, received mixed reviews in the press. His many crimes were never glossed over in the books, as the character struggled internally throughout– sometimes excusing himself, other times devolving into self-loathing and punishment. Some critics claimed that the character was too far gone to receive a happy ending, while others lauded Black for his ability to write such a morally dubious character in a way that could be seen as relatable or understandable by the end. 
“Did you get the reaction you were hoping for?”
“To this day, I’m still not quite sure. In the end, though, I realized that I didn’t need people to understand or sympathize with him, I just needed them to see him.”
“Well, he’s been seen by over fifty million readers. How does that make you feel?”
“Rather exposed, wouldn’t you think?”
“I would,” I agreed, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to pivot a bit here, into something that may be a bit more personal.”
“Please.”
 “You received criticism after the fourth instalment, in which Lucien realizes that he is gay, from both sides of the political spectrum. Some on the right were disappointed in his being gay at all, while the left felt that you were painting queer people in a poor light in an already intense political landscape. What would your response be to these critics?”
Black leaned back in his chair, comically stroking his chin, “I think I’d say… that I don’t fucking care what they think.”
“That’s quite blunt.”
“I’ve never been one for cutting verbal corners. More fictional queer people should be horrible and evil, until they equal the numbers of their real-world, heterosexual counterparts.”
“Well said.”
“Do you have anything else you’d like to ask me? I’m afraid my daughter will be arriving for lunch in just a few minutes.”
I thought about this for a few moments. Did I want to ask him about his current writing process? If we should be expecting a new work anytime soon? Ultimately, I decided on a question I felt would cater to him, as he’d given me this unique opportunity in the first place.
“Is there any specific character based on your husband in the books?”
A laugh resounded from the living room, and Black’s mouth turned up in a shy smile.
“Why, his school rival, of course,” Black replied.
“The one who Lucien beat to a pulp on the Quitchball field?” I replied, admittedly flabbergasted.
“Quite so.”
Harry joined us then in the kitchen, ruffling Black’s hair a bit before picking up the mugs we’d been drinking from, “I’ll have you know, Georgie, that I was the one who did most of the beating. You can go and tell that to the press.”
“Oh, I will,” I promised, and now I have.
if you'd like to say some kind things, or make unintelligible sounds, feel free to check this out over on ao3!
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hooman4ever · 1 year
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I was wondering if you could do a dewy Riley and a randy meeks head cannons with a male reader?
Been struggling with motivation to get things done recently. But here's some headcannons.
Contains: Mentioned Homophobia, Mentioned Hate Crime, Male Reader, Little Gay Men With Their Little Crushes
Randy Meeks
Randy was surprised when you came along. Gay was a term Randy wasn’t estranged to, he’s stumbled upon that before with his vast movie know-how he’s seen some shit before. 
While Randy is aware of his affections for you he won’t come out and say anything after all it’s a dangerous thing to feel. If he were to tell the wrong person he could end up with a busted lip and unwanted attention from others.
Once Randy is sure of your feelings for him he would be more than relieved.
Randy will be more relaxed and affectionate. Liking to always have a possessive hand lingering on or around you. A silent gesture to the world that you were his.
Movie dates will be a constant almost every night thing. Randy will go all out. He’ll put up lights and build a fort out of red and black blankets not stopping until it felt like the two of you were in a theater. 
One time while cuddling Randy let it slip that he goes to such lengths because he hates having to hide his affections for you in public so he builds the illusion of one so he can pretend you both were in a real theater.
You thought his ranting about movies was bad? Wait till it’s just you and him, a pile of movies, and he’s trying to pick over one.
First up you’ll get the whole movie spoken to you with dramatic and sometimes shockingly beautiful depictions of multiple scenes. Never before will you see such a beautiful display of a man playing two vastly different characters at the same time. 
Next the breakdown. This is the slightly boring bit where you hear every explanation and thought to have ever existed about the movies, and why everyone but the ones Randy agreed with was wrong. 
Then finally your opinion will be the only factor that matters. 
Try to cuddle with Randy during a movie you better be more than prepared for sudden jerking and screaming as Randy’s mood moves in tune with the movie playing. 
Hands flew through the air. Shouts of agony echo through the walls of your room. “NooNOOOOOoo!” Randy shouted his hands clutched over the pencil resting on his chest before he falls back dramatically, his body thudding making you cringe. 
“And, scene.” Randy voices sitting up, his arms moving in an outward motion in front of him. 
“Thank you for that very thorough… recreation? Of the movie.” Randy looked at you as you held up a DVD. The title makes Randy cringe. “I still would rather watch this.” Defeated Randy sighs mock hurt on his face as he clambers to his feet. “Oh Y/n why must you burden me with being the only one in this relationship with a sense of taste.”
Dewey Riley
Dewey was disturbed when he first discovered his feelings for you. He had seen what happened to gay men around Woodsboro. The bruises and broken noses people had clambered into the police station alongside the stacks of hate crime records spoke for themselves. 
In private Dewey has no problem swooning for you. Letting himself daydream about you like a love-sick puppy. 
When he can Dewey will stay by your side loving to be in your company. 
On the subject of confessing Dewey would be hesitant. The last thing he needed was to be shunned from the police station and the rest of the town for confessing to the wrong person. 
Dewey would test the waters probing into your opinions by not so slyly sliding questions into normal conversations. The poor man thought he was being slick and would always be so proud of himself for a ‘successful interrogation’. 
With a little booze and a late night on your couch, Dewey would be slurring out his feelings. Ending his admitting of his affections with a “Don’t let [Y/n] know.” and a very appropriate drunk shushing. 
Dewey wouldn’t realize he’d confessed until he was out in his car early in the morning driving with a hangover. He'd call you as soon as he could, leading the call with an awkward silence until he ends up asking the big question. Losing his shit with joy when you reciprocate his feelings. 
While he would be cautious about not letting your relationship be public for safety reasons, this man will still give you small gestures of affection when out in public. As well as taking you on public dates on the DL.
Dewey let his fingers linger over the phone in his hand, your picture on his screen as your voice rang. Each word you spoke filled Dewey with both disbelief and joy. “I like you~” Dewey cut you off, promptly pressing the call hang-up button. His eyes and smile wide. 
After a few moments of happy silence, the reality of Dewey hanging up sat in and he dialed your number once more. 
“Sorry-” chuckling [Y/n] warmed Dewey’s chest and made his goofy grin impossibly bigger. 
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mercymermaid · 5 months
Text
so
next stop theatre rtc production rant
@ihavenoideamanokay you're being sacrificed
- jane didn't actually sing during her first verse of karnak's dream of life, she just flung her doll around which was iconic
- karnak unfortunately spoke very quickly and didn't have the comedic timing of 2016 :(
- virgil was this tiny little rat who moved up and down it was so silly
- karnak had little blinds in his booth and the front one got stuck and at first we thought it was a bit until he opened the side one and said "oh that one works-" (and then during the entirety of uranium suite he was trying to fix it 😭)
- ocean and constance both had the same outfit, jane had the same outfit as them but with white socks (instead of black), noel had a whole ass blazer over his dress shirt, mischa was. mischa. and ricky had a normal sweater vest over his dress shirt and a beanie
- during uranium suite constance kept managing to channel Main Character Energy (/pos) and then ocean just went. nope <3 and constance actively looked hurt
- once karnak started speaking and they were all standing there ricky was rubbing his throat like "oh my god-"
- noel was a lot less vocally expressive but damn his facial expressions were on POINT
- constance was just having this huge ass panic attack throughout the entirety of everyone's catchphrases and it's hilarious
- speaking of, during everyone's introductions, they hovered by karnak's booth just in like a video game idle animation
- noel, instead of being disgusted, just kinda shrugged like "okay, me, pop off"
- ricky did a handstand and slayed
- jane sounds a lot more like an actual teenager, which was great
- she also had a ragdoll which slayed and it's head was constantly falling off
- noel looked like he was struggling very VERY greatly to keep it together while ocean talked
- mischa and noel were so nice to jane 😭 - noel was talking to her about nails during ocean's intro and waving ajd shir, and they both like ushered her around and shit oh my godddd 😭 they'd make hand gestures and jane would imitate and they looked so proud oml 😭 
- mischa sounds german 😭 
- ocean started her songs by aggressively blowing a whistle which spurred everyone into choreography
- jane was really out of it and didn't actually know what she was doing until towards the end of what the world needs 
- ocean somehow managed to hurt everyone at the end - noel was hit in the nose, constance was knocked down, ricky was as well, mischa got kicked away, and ocean used jane as a little stepping thing at the end
- they all very much enjoyed that, and as karnak announced the 'unanimous vote' thing, ricky and noel both were trying not to laugh
- noel started dramatically clapping and it was great
- "not all gay people are fun to be around" he stared ocean right down, stuck his middle finger in his mouth and then cornered her into the middle while aggressively flipping her off (as he should)
- noel yelled a LOT more than "sweet jesus christ on a stick" when he was fed up "I LOVE YOU GUUUUUUYS-"
- his idle animation was some really weird sexually invigorating writhing (funnily enough mischa was sitting behind him 😭)
- instead of the gay pose for the "his mother found out two things", this mf all but twerked and showed off his ass to the audience 
- this man. /pos
- during the "i hear it gives you an erection" ocean looked on the verge of tears and smiled and nodded aggressively when constance suggested just moving on
- noel was fruiTEA he was not holding back at ALL 
- the taco bell pic was on thr back of a karnak poster and noel all but sprinted and screamed to stand in front of it and trying to play it cool (he failed miserably)
- oh the flirting with mischa was WILD
- at one point he made some innuendo ("never wrote a novel.. or had sex.." points at mischa with a wink) and mischa immediately started texting talia
- instead of a full-blown kiss scene it was a bit more of a little peck and then mischa going "😍"
- and then right after that he got his wig lmao
- he was laughing like a MANIAC he was FERAL
- he was about to do a split and then after constance refused to pay he gave up
- his "tell the lord im dying like him" moment was less dramatic and more peppy
- he just say up and excitedly started rattling off what he would say
- he walked down a pathway of chairs and boxes to The Box and then did his lovely singing while everyone else was also on chairs and shit lmao 
- ricky's accordion was rapidly falling apart 💀
- karnak danced to every song except wtwn and ballad
- again. more fucking flirting with mischa. this man was WILD-
- everyone was sitting on the sidelines during ocean's lesson rant
- jane was sitting with constance, trying to show her her doll, which constance accidentally threw onto the stage
- jane went to get it and mischa went "no-"
- also when karnak said "not every story has a lesson" constance was motioning for him to stop like "please do not-"
- tsia was dope. he had a fur coat and EVERYTHING. he was slaying hard
- everyone was being extremely sexual which was fuckinf hilarious to watch 💀 
- noel was getting INTO IT
- ricky had a silly little robot head thing
- "i lay my masculinity at the altar of your maidenhood" he offered his rapper dollar sign necklace 😭 ily sm my guy
- someone said "aw" and he focused on them for the rest of the song lmao
- talia was beautiful. the big projection fabric was brought in as a veil by jane, and then they used it to shadow project jane and (i think) noel dancing behind it it was so cooollllll 
- instead of the dance circle they all just started dancing crazily it was great lmao
- mischa fucking THREW himself at ricky and noel that mf was sobbing
- no sped up speech from ocean (thankfully /j)
- however at the virginity bit noel immediately walked over like "fucking SPILL"
- they all collectively nudged ricky forward it was so sweet like "you should go"
- it was. wild.
- as he was explaining his religion, noel was nodding along like "yeah this seems sick dude"
- instead of having ocean, jane, and constance at the beginning, he had jane, constance, and noel (bisexual king) 
- he had a cape for a bit but took it off before the "it gets weird now"
- speaking of there was no backstage or costume change he just played guitar aggressively smh
- everyone had a cat helmet and fluffy cat tail and they all has different color and they all had visors and mischa's was constantly falling off 💀 
- mischa: "dude you are so cool now" ricky: "nobody-" *gives the biggest fattest nastiest side eye to ocean* "-ever listened to me"
- BALLAD WAS SO AMAZING HOLY DHRIROFJDUSSHITITISHUDIEKDSB AJRUSJSJFJFJRAUGHFHDUSUFJEIIRH can you tell it's my favorite song
- jane gave her doll to karnak 😭 dadnakdadnakdadnakdadnak-
- her voice was so powerful holy SHIT
- the choreography was everyone moving around with masks on their hands like heads before the first chorus, and then after that it was just hands constantly grabbing at her
- she was terrified kf the hands and heads
- oh and there was uv lihting which made everything very very ckntrasty holy shiat
- her voice was torn between fear pain and anger and it was so fucking gorgeous DUDEEEE
- THOSE HIGH NOTES 🤩 best jane ive seen since emily rohm (i say, this being the only other version i've seen-)
- at the end she just kinda stood there, nobody else was on stage, she kicked the floor like a lil pouty child (my sweetheart) but then when the others started singing happy birthday her eyes widened like "what the fuckkkk"
- mischa beat boxed the first half of the og birthday song
- the new birthday song was super awkward but then ocean figured out the beat and it got really fast really randomly for some reason- felt a bit rushed
- they all blew it out together so once she reached for the cupcake it was already put out
- she didn't wander off to eat the cupcake shr went straight to Ricky
- at first he kinda dismissed her but... oh my goD
- her voice was so confident "savannah, with the greenest eyes..!"
- once the focus shifted off of them ricky unwrapped the cupcake and then he took a bite to show her how to eat it then they took turns until she just shoved the entire thing in her mouth-
- mischa was all alone and then he pointed the bottle at noel who came over
- he offered a sip and noel was such a lightweight hetook one gulp and his knees buckles 😭 
- they had their deep convo and then just took turns drinking until they ended up finishing the entire bottle
- the constance ocean situation. goddamn. it escalated to yelling and then constance punched he really hard and ocean sat down and sulked for the entirety of jawbreaker
- mischa was the guy and he had the tattoo and once he was Free the look of disgust on his face as he tried to dust himself off
- everyone was kinda smiling somberly as constance talked
- DADNAK GAVE HER A SPARKLY JACKET EAFHFHGJGJG
- they all kinda did their own jigs yk
- dadnak had them walk past his booth and grab various sparkly accessories from a bucket for them to dance with it was so cute
- no recorder solo sadly but she did do some wicked scatting
- it was utterly amAZING
- AFTER SUGAR CLOUD. OCEAN HUGS CONSTANCE AND OUT LOUD FULL ON TELLS HER "I'M SORRY" LIKE FUCK YEAHHHHHH
- as ocean being the final vote is announced, the choir turns to look at her rhythmically, and then just look at that exact spot for the rest of her monologue
- it is. long. obviously
- as she's turning around to pick the final vote, everyone makes varying faces of some sort of hope, and as she chooses jane, they relax
- jane's life is revealed by a waterfall of photographs coming from the ceiling and everyone crowds around her to point out all the stuff in them as ocean starts its not a game
- eventually she has all the photos and she's shuffling through them quickly on the verge of tears
- she leaves without much fanfare, constance WAVES and jane runs off behind the wings
- karnak gets his ass killed and just leans out the window, very dead (his death scene was.. interesting)
- as they start it's just a ride oh my god 😭 it's so happy because they're just kinda running around and dancing together and everything AUGH MY HEART
- NOEL HUGS OCEAN. 
- THEY DO THE SPIN ON THE "TURNING ROOOOOUND" BUT NO BIG JAM OUT HOW DARE THEYYY
- JANE COMES BACK OUT AS PENNY WITH A DARKER WIG AND GREEN EYES AND SHE GUIDES THEM ALL TO THE AFTERLIFE BC THEY ALL END UP SETTLING INTO THE ROLLERCOASYER POSITION
- AND THEN PENNY SINGS THE “I KNOW THIS DREAM OF LIFE IS NEVERENDING” WHICH MEANS HER NOT SINGING IT EARLIER WAS FORESHADOWING LOOK AT ME I’M A GENIUS
OTHER STUFF
- this one chair to the side was used as the breakdown chair because constance had like thirty anxiety attacks on it and noel was barely keeping himself together from tearing ocean to shreds 
- can't remember in which interaction specifically but ocean pisses mischa off and he stomps off to sulk backwards on a chair by ricky
- either at the beginning of lament or tsia jane fucking. chucks. her doll somewhere behind karnak's booth
- at one point jane and ocean are sitting next to each other and jane keeps trying to initiate contact and ocean is leaning away like 'fuck no babes'
- mischa beat boxing was a good bit and he did it twice-
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anyway that's all-
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supersonic1994 · 5 months
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as the local fight club blogger - how did u interpret the ending of the book? I love love love the book and have lots of different interpretations for it, but I always struggled with the ending; and I barely see anybody talking abt it in general
the ending surprised me! I had watched the movie before I managed to finish the book, and because as you said nobody talks about the book ending I was really shocked. I felt that the ending the narrator was given was particularly haunting. he is no longer tyler durden but no matter where he goes or what he does to escape from him—the narrator believes that they had died together and now they’re in heaven (or perhaps this is what he tells himself for escapism) but there is no separation. “God asks me what I remember. I remember everything.” Is the narrators response in the last moments of his and tylers life together. hes unable to let go of his past because it’s constantly pushing at the forefront of his mind. he knows he can’t go back because he doesn’t exist in the world outside of heaven, “because every once in a while, somebody brings me my lunch tray and my meds and he has a black eye or his forehead is swollen with stitches, and he says: “we miss you Mr. Durden.” I think it’s ironic that the narrator felt so trapped in his single serving life that he made up tyler durden, but the result of that is what blinds him, and truly traps him, in the end. this is the problem with nihilism that had been idealized by tyler through the novel.
If I were to read more into it I would say that as an ending the psych wards temporality more closely resembles purgatory wherein the narrators mind he can only leave once he’s sinless—once he stops being recognized for who he was and what tyler did. no one stays in purgatory forever. even if the narrator calls the workers angels and the psychologist god, there’s a sense that one day the narrator will be able to return to society. purgatory is meant to be a place for having a spiritual cleansing before people who are supposed to go to heaven actually go to heaven. the narrators spiritual cleansing would be shedding the skin and associations of tyler. I think this reading leaves the ending more open, since there’s possibility of change and movement.
If you’re reading the text through the lens of a gay man in the 1990’s struggling through self acceptance, sexuality, and the AIDS crisis—he has “killed” his partner, taken on his last name, and now he is hospitalized with sores and bruises on his face that others [other hospital staff that belonged to project mayhem] can recognize. this to me is a more bleak ending—it would be an ending where the narrator can never leave the hospital, and the world continues on without him, and is ultimately destroyed (as is project mayhems goal).
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cock-holliday · 10 months
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Cropping out anon's manifesto about the differences between ra/dfe/minism and liberal feminism and why one is superior to the other because...
Fuck both!
Yeah liberal feminism sucks ass, hasn't moved goalposts very far if at all, and like most liberal policies relies on groveling rather than action. Doesn't mean fash-collaborating "feminism" is the only other option, though I know y'all love your binaries.
I employ principles of intersectional feminism, particularly along the ideals of transfeminism and anarchafeminism. Hey whoa 3 whole schools of thought we didn't mention!
Ra/dfe/minism appeals to people because it is motivated by anger. Anger at the system, anger at personal trauma, anger at injustice and misogyny and violence...and then rather than becoming a tool for liberation (like intersectional feminists argue, like transfeminists argue, like anarchafeminists argue) it becomes a tool of repression.
The two biggest issues with ra/dfe/minism is that it 1. conflates "patriarchy" (a system) with "men" (individuals) and 2. relies entirely on upholding the carceral state to make progress.
Ra/dfe/minism has moved a rightful critique of patriarchy to a critique entirely of men. Or rather..."men". RFs feel emboldened to BE the one policing rather than being policed. The urge to come out from under a system's thumb is understandable, the desire to inflict your anger onto others is not.
Women who are "too close" to Men are seen as traitors. Butches who present too masculinely, those who go on hormones, those who get top surgery or go by he/him pronouns are traitors. It doesn't matter to RFs if you ARE a woman, if you're doing it wrong you are "helping the patriarchy". God forbid you decide you ARE a man, then you are a massive traitor. Or you are attracted to men and LIKE men then you are a massive traitor. Bi women are traitors. Trans men are traitors. Transmascs are traitors.
You'd think with how many women and women-adjacent folks they push away, RFs would be desperate for allies, so trans women and transfemmes would be welcome, right? In some cases, outright no (TE-RF) in others at the very least they are on thin ice or have to then prove she isn't "one of the bad ones" to join. As if trans women wouldn't already be isolated by Divine Wombynhood and Holy Pussiness.
The RF perspective on vaginal phrases is a pretty good indicator of where shit went wrong. A movement that wanted to normalize a shamed body part warped into a movement where pussy=woman=good, penis=bad=man. A penis is a weapon of mass destruction, it is for violence, penetration is violence, it is conquering. A morally neutral body part got vilified in the quest to normalize another. Because RFs do not want equality or normalization. They want to be in charge. They want to flex power. They want to be the ones to lash out. It is understandable to come out of adolescence angry at the injustice of womanhood. But while intersectional feminists recognized that all women are bound by misogyny--albiet in different ways--and transfeminists recognized the misogyny trans women face and cis women face are born of the same system, and anarchafeminists recognized that the true enemy of freedom along with patriarchy is forced heirarchy...RFs just see anyone who isn't exactly like them as an invading force.
Men can never be allies in a fight that affects them too because men are inherently evil because of...penis, hormones, masculinity, IDing with maleness...take your pick. Women who like men can never be included in the fight because "men are the enemy."
Men are not the enemy. They can be. So can women. A pro-choice man is more of an ally than an anti-choice woman any day. The issue is the system of patriarchy. Like the system of homophobia. Like the system of racism. Like the system of transphobia. Like like like. They are interconnected struggles. You can't separate women's issues from trans issues from gay issues from Black issues.
RF lenses refuse to ever consider other factors than gender in analyzing oppression. Cis women can be the oppressor of trans women. Straight women can be the oppressor of lesbians. And yes, white women can be the oppressor of Black men. And they rely on patriarchy to do it. Women are helpless meek victims who need protected and have no autonomy, so a Black man looks at you wrong he's a villain. The societal issue at play here isn't "ohhhh so women are bad then, not men?" it's that patriarchy is a system anyone with any axis of power can leverage as a weapon.
So they do. White women sometimes rely on police brutality to settle scores with Black men. They recognize this method doesn't work with white men, without ever questioning what is the difference. Or not caring. Or not Karen. All advocacy under RF is tied to punishment. Death penalty advocacy. "Kill your local rapist" "Kill your local pedophile" "Kill groomers" it's a revenge fantasy, not a liberatory movement!
The system is what happened to you and rather than ever challenge the system, you just want to point it towards who you think deserves the violence. You never imagine that moving away from the violence is possible, or worth trying for.
I saw a post once condemning the idea that "feminism helps men" which mostly hinged on the idea that "under feminism, men will lose that cushy pay gap". The post went on to say "feminism will not help men but they should still support it." Well, under that short-sighted take, feminism "won't help women" then either. White women would get paid the same as women of color, and lose their "cushy pay gap."
Intersectionality would level the playing field for everyone, which means women with power to flex would lose it too. Which is a good thing. Anarchafeminism says no one should have power over anyone else, and combating systems of power relies on dismantling it.
Unless of course you were relying on still maintaining power over other women, while then gaining power over men, in which case, that's not "feminism" that's just taking your share of the white supremacist pie.
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richincolor · 2 months
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Book Review: How the Boogeyman Became a Poet
Title: How the Boogeyman Became a Poet
Author: Tony Keith Jr.  
Genres:  Memoir
Pages: 341
Publisher: Katherine Tegan Books
Review Copy: ARC by publisher
Availability: Available now
Summary: Poet, writer, and hip-hop educator Tony Keith Jr. makes his debut with a powerful YA memoir in verse, tracing his journey from being a closeted gay Black teen battling poverty, racism, and homophobia to becoming an openly gay first-generation college student who finds freedom in poetry. Perfect for fans of Elizabeth Acevedo, George M. Johnson, and Jacqueline Woodson. Tony dreams about life after high school, where his poetic voice can find freedom on the stage and page. But the Boogeyman has been following Tony since he was six years old. First, the Boogeyman was after his Blackness, but Tony has learned It knows more than Tony wants to be the first in his family to attend college, but there’s no path to follow. He also has feelings for boys, desires that don’t align with the script he thinks is set for him and his girlfriend, Blu. Despite a supportive network of family and friends, Tony doesn’t breathe a word to anyone about his feelings. As he grapples with his sexuality and moves from high school to college, he struggles with loneliness while finding solace in gay chat rooms and writing poetry. But how do you find your poetic voice when you are hiding the most important parts of yourself? And how do you escape the Boogeyman when it's lurking inside you?
Review: I will admit that I’m a huge fiction girly and very rarely read memoirs. However, the title and the book cover caught my eye at NCTE and I took a look. I love books in verse and when I saw this was a memoir in verse by a spoken word poet I was even more interested. I flipped through the pages, read a few of the poems and I was all in. I grabbed a copy and looked forward to reading this memoir when I had some time. I was not disappointed. 
“How the Boogeyman Became a Poet” reflects on Tony Keith’s senior year of high school and his first year of college as he struggles to figure out who he is. It is during this time that Tony is struggling with what he would like for his future and struggling with his sexuality. He opens his memoir with giving a bit of background about his childhood before diving deep into the numerous insecurities young teens may have as they face their last year of high school where the constant talk is about “which college are you going to go to”. Teenage Tony is struggling with the last few months of school as he doesn’t think he has the grades to go to college but knows everyone around him expects him to. He also feels that he is continuing to live his life as a lie as he has a girlfriend, whom his parents know and love, while going to church, and maintaining an image of a “cool, straight Black teen.” It’s this performance he puts on that he calls the Boogeyman because the Boogeyman shows up to remind Tony that he is living a lie. Tony does express himself though his poetry and one highlight from the book is Tony sharing the poems that he wrote during this time period. There is a distinct difference in the style and tone of these younger poems, from the rest of the memoir, that reminds the reader that Tony will eventually find his way. As Tony attends college and is exposed to a wider world, friendships change, he breaks up with his girlfriend, and does begin to be true to himself. He also begins to find his voice in his poetry as he begins to accept who he is. 
Overall I enjoyed “How the Boogeyman Became a Poet” as Tony’s voice as a confused teen growing into a confident young man moved me. There were so many passages that were truly moving and drew me into Tony’s story. Tony’s poems are lyrical with a flow that moves with a smooth beat. He weaves imagery into pictures the eyes can see and moments the heart can feel. I hope that this book becomes an audio book and that Tony is the narrator as his memoir was an enjoyable read, that I can only imagine how it would sound. 
Here is a taste of Tony Keith's poetry. 
youtube
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hpowellsmith · 2 months
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February Reading
I often have a reading slump in February after hunkering down to read a lot over the winter, but this year I got to read quite a few! Favourites are bolded.
Regeneration - Pat Barker (reread)
This is such a good book. I first read it many years ago and it's just as good as back then. Most of the characters are historical figures: the psychiatrist Dr Rivers is treating Siegfried Sassoon for shell shock as he protests against the Great War, while Billy Prior, a fictional character, struggles to regain memories of his recent time in the trenches. It's grimly upsetting and very human.
Jojo: Finally Home - Johannes Radebe
My third Strictly Come Dancing related memoir in three months. Radebe shares hard-to-read details about homophobic bullying and the difficulties in getting a dance career as a poor Black gay man in South Africa only shortly after the end of Apartheid, but it's very much not misery porn and there's a huge amount of warmth in this towards his family and to those who have supported him over the years. I enjoyed the insights into the dance world which I have very little knowledge of, and into Radebe's life history.
The Neighbors - Jude Doyle
A blended queer, interracial family moves to a small rural town where everyone's watching a bit too closely and the old lady next door talks about frogs and iron nails; after a stressful night, Oliver and Janet's teenage daughter starts smiling creepily and eating strips of raw meat. I enjoyed this graphic novel more than Maw, Doyle's debut, as the characters felt more fully realised to me; I'm not sure I was particularly surprised by much in it, though, and maybe I'd have liked it to be a little longer and more involved (which is a criticism that isn't very meaningful, I know, but... it's how I felt when I was done).
Chewing the Fat: Tasting Notes from a Greedy Life - Jay Rayner
This was fun: a collection of Rayner's food columns through several years, grouped into loose themes. The grouping didn't work for me all the time - one of the parts was devoted to an assortment of food things that annoy Rayner and it got a bit one-note - and the bitesize nature of the columns meant that I sometimes would have liked more exploration before moving onto something else, but Rayner does have some lovely turns of phrase.
Spear - Nicola Griffith
A marvellous queer Arthurian story. I absolutely devoured it. Griffith's writing is sublimely beautiful and evocative, and I adored the characters and pretty much everything about it. An absolute stunner. If you like Arthurian magic, queer relationships, and characters trying their best in a mythic world that's not always kind, run don't walk to read this. This could have been twee but it really isn't; the meticulous detail on every page is gorgeous.
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nykie-love-anime · 11 months
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Day 12 ~ Clothes Part 2
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Clothing Prompts Ideas by street-crimes
Jake
“That’s my shirt!” Jake exclaims as he looks up from the book that he was currently reading on the couch. “No.” you said looking down staring at the shirt you just put on. “I believe it is our shirt. I bought it for your birthday.” You teased looking at the facial expression he is pulling. “Exactly MY birthday hence it’s my shirt.” He laughed as you blushed. “No.” you said quickly taking off towards the backyard to get away from him before he can say anything else. Jake just shakes his head smiling after you.
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“Here, take my jacket.” Your best friend and roommate Bradley said looking at you shivering as you are currently standing outside waiting for Jake, for your date. Just as you are about to take the jacket from him a hand wrapped around your shoulders. “No need baby girl. Here you can have my jacket.” Jake said looking at Bradley and said man just sighs shaking his head at Hangman’s antics.
“What, you think I am moving in on your girl?” Rooster tease and before Jake could retort you cut them both off. “Okay boys play nice. Jake you know Bradley is like my older brother, we grew up together.” You state with a small smile. “And for your information, I am gay. I play for the same team; Bob and I just went on a date yesterday.” Bradley said with a smile. “Really how did it go? I know you have been pining after him for a while.” You grinned up at Rooster and he nodded.
“Yeah it was fantastic, we decided to go on a second date this Friday.” He grinned back and you just squealed. “I am so happy for you Brad-Brad. I wish you the best date for Friday.” You hugged the man before you and quickly pulled away when Jake cleared his throat. “Congratulations man. I am really happy for you.” Jake said shaking Bradley’s hand with a grin. “Now if you will excuse us we have a date to get to.” Hangman pulled you towards his car as you grinned back at Bradley with a wave.
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“Go with the black one.” You said pointing at the shirt he was holding up in his right hand. “It goes with my dress.” You smiled at the man in front of you and he just nodded pulling the shirt over his head. “Okay baby, if you are ready we can go. I will be waiting downstairs for you.” He said with a smile. “This is the first time I am meeting your dad. I want to make a good impression.” “Jake.” You stared at the man through the mirror in front of you. “You have known my dad for a while now.”
“Okay I know that but this is the first time as your boyfriend and I want to make a good impression.” He said with a nervous smile. “Okay baby. I know he is going to love you.” You reassured the worrying man pulling him down to give him a small peck. “Okay now go I have to get this birds nest done.” You laughed shoving him softly backwards pointing at your hair and all he could do was chuckle.
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Bradley
“Are those my sweatpants?” You question Bradley as he hops around trying to quickly get pants on as someone is at your bedroom door. “What?” he questions looking down at the blue sweatpants. “Oh, okay I thought my foot swelled over the night and that is why I am struggling to get it on.” He said with a grin and you just shake your head giggling at the man you love. “Babe you are an idiot.” You teased and he mocked offence. “For your information I am your idiot.” He said holding up his ringed hand.
“Now and forever.” He teased right back while you muttered about being married to a dumbass. “Okay well get your pants on and go look who wants what. You know how your squad gets after a night of drinking.” You smiled at your husband. “Yeah, yeah I am going. Do you want a coffee or something?” “Coffee would be lovely.” You said giggling as there was another knock. “Come on Chicken I want coffee and you know Y/N is going to kill me if I use your coffee machine wrong again.” “Shut up Bagman!” Bradley called through the door shaking his head at his friends neediness.     
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Sitting in front of your computer too busy grading exams you are startled as you look up to see Bradley standing there quietly. Standing up with a concerned look on your face. “Do you need me to iron that?” you asked as you look at the shirt full of wrinkles. He nodded and smiled at you. “Please I would go out with it like that but I am going to meet your mom for lunch so I need to look presentable.” He continued and you raised and eyebrow. “Any specific reason?” he just shook his head while smiling at you. “Well okay, I will see you later then. Have fun with my mom.” You said with a grin.
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“Stop stressing you look great.” Bradley argued as you walked through the kitchen towards you shared bedroom. You paraded up and down the hallway stressing as the dress you are currently wearing is starting to fit tighter in the middle. “Love, you are carrying my child. You are bound to get a bit bigger.” He said rubbing your growing stomach. “Whatever.” You pouted. “You look so cute baby cakes; you know I love seeing you pregnant.” He teased falling to his knees kissing your stomach.
“Yeah I know mister breeding kink.” You started. “That is why we have four kids under the age of 5 already.” He laughed at your pouting face. “Baby why are you upset then?” “Okay fine.” You relented. “It is not about the dress or that I am getting bigger it is about my Oreos being missing. I was looking forward to them after work but the cabinets are empty.” You started tearing up. Curse the pregnancy hormones. “How about you and I go shopping for some snacks and new clothes. The kids can stay with their grampa Mavvy. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a very smart plan.” You smiled wiping away the remaining tears. “Okay my sexy wife let’s call your dad then we can go.” He smiled pulling you into a quick kiss. “I love you.” You muttered between kisses. “Love you baby girl.” He kissed back before pulling away getting his phone to call Maverick. “Just so you know mister pull out won’t get you pregnant a fifth time. One of us is getting fixed after this baby is born. I don’t need to be popping out kids till I’m 50.” You smiled as he puts a hand over his heart in mock offence. “You know I always wanted a baseball team.” He teased back. “And baby you are only 36. I think I can fill you up quickly before you are 50.” “Bradley!” you exclaimed looking shocked at the man in the doorway. “What you know it’s true.” He giggled walking away to talk to your dad. Smiling at the man you love knowing that you would do anything for him.
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Day 11 | Masterlist | Day 13
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lizardinkart · 1 year
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when people are like "i'm going to Score A Win For The Gays by performatively decrying Taylor/Brian" but actually they're just being racist
Alright it’s almost 2 AM time for an unhinged rant
This is my #1 pet peeve actually. As a pasty white queer person nothing pisses me off more than white queer people (or even just queer people full stop) using their queer/gay/lgbt card to just be another kind of bigot. You can be queer and still be racist besties! Examine your beliefs and question why you believe them!!!
But in all seriousness people performatively decrying Taylor/Brian as either “uwu Taylor must be a wlw untouched by the impure hand of Men” or “Not-as-slick-as-y’all-think-you-are racists” gets on my nerves so bad. Because you’re missing the chance to appreciate the actual text of the story AND the bittersweet tragedy of it all. Just because (spoilers) they didn’t work out and Brian dies unceremoniously without Taylor knowing or bothering to double check (right before she scrambles her brains and uses the fabricated idea of Brian in a cabin as her anchor to reality), doesn’t mean that they didn’t impact each other and make each other better (and worse) people in long-lasting ways. Yes, Taylor MAJORLY fucked up Brian by abandoning/betraying him when he really needed that stability and she promised that she could deliver it, and it’s cathartic to get out of Taylor’s head and see that he actually did find someone he could lean on in Cozen, but also we can see how this kind of young, naive, and well-meaning but ultimately destructive kind of love that I’m sure many of us encountered when we were young and fucked up in a relationship (romantic or otherwise) could manifest in someone like Taylor. Because we saw her at her best, when she was able to be what she needed to be for Brian, when Brian made her finally feel good about herself for the first time since Emma turned on her, when they found comfort in each other when their worlds fell to shit. The wounds they healed could only be matched by the wounds they made, reflexive and thematic of them being in the right relationship at the wrong time. If I made that dynamic into a queer relationship or a same-race relationship, bet people would be talking about this ship a whole lot more. But no. We have to be racist and put down het ships because everything that’s het or “Not White/the Acceptable kind of POC” is Bad and Icky and we can’t be bothered with that. God forbid it be both! Fuck riiiight off :)
(Also side tangent but a healthy dose of biphobia oft sneaks in here because everyone’s quick to write off that bi people can be in het-passing relationships too. I do in fact fanon Taylor/Brian as both being bi because men and women don’t talk about women like that *gestures vaguely at how Wildbow writes florid descriptions of women in Taylor’s brain and like, the barest bones musings for Brian, repressed bisexual <3* and not end up being some kinda fruity.)
To paraphrase my much-smarter-than-me partner, it is still revolutionary to see a black man and a white woman in a real relationship in media, especially one that doesn’t play into the tired racist stereotypes and is (at least somewhat) healthy and optimistic about the fact that interracial relationships are not only viable but completely normal and harmless and desirable. Taylor/Brian was by no means perfect, but my god was it refreshing to see a character like Taylor, a very complex feminine character that wants to be perceived as strong, smart, and capable while also being feminine and desirable without being conventionally attractive, who just wants to know she can be loved despite her trauma, and Brian, a deeply emotional man struggling with the interconnectedness of his life’s traumas with his practice of masculinity as emotionally restricting/repressing, and his desire to protect the people he loves despite the literally crippling PTSD and a tendency to hold on just a little too tight, get into a relationship and actually work out there for a sec. And the fact that you get all of this obvious love and care and attention put into an interracial relationship on TOP of that is just chefs kiss 11/10 best shit I’ve seen in my life. It is such a welcome change to your average tasteless, de-clawed straight or even gay relationships in media or fandom and I would actively pay to see another Taylor/Brian style pairing over 2 conventionally attractive twinks/femmes being uwu cute at each other.
This was a very meandering and scattered rant but yeah. This is by no means excusing any of the actually racist stuff in Worm, because it’s certainly in there, but I can talk about that a different time.
Thinly veiled miscegenation-phobias and generalized racism begone! Stan Taylor/Brian for clear skin and an actually well-written romance.
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yangzhouman · 1 year
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CLOUD STRIFE and the YAOI IDENTITY
[note: this is my slightly-edited submission to yaoi zine vol. 1: what was the yaoi that changed your life? organised by our beloved @tshirt3000. it’s 81 pages of nostalgia, poignancy, and really fucking amazing creativity, all about yaoi. i wrote about FF7, and the zine ranges from arthurian legend to currently-publishing webtoons and all the way back. it’s a real labour of love! and it kicks ass! please check it out here!]
what’s gayer than absorbing the identity of another man? doing it twice. i’m talking about cloud strife from FFVII, a yaoi icon who has carried fujoshi gamers on his shoulders for nearly three decades. i owe everything to him, and i’m sure my highschool friends wish his pointy polygon form hadn’t plagued my mind for all these years. sorry girls.
pretty much everything about cloud is yaoi, from his design to his character to his story. did you know the designers deliberately made him “less masculine” so that he could better rival sephiroth? direct quote. until this week, i didn’t — he was meant to have smooth black hair, but was given his defining blond spikes instead. sephiroth, with his long hair and his long sword, exists in deliberate, calculated comparison. it’s easy pickings for people looking for yaoi in a classic contrasting uke/seme dynamic.
but the previous design of smooth black hair and less ambiguous masculinity, now a contrast to cloud, still exists. it went to zack fair, who is notable as the first man that cloud absorbs. he’s the origin of it all in the truest sense: let’s begin with him. 
ZACK FAIR
the most important thing about zack is that he’s dead. it gets weird from here, because every time we see cloud, we see zack — in this sense, he is entirely defined by his connection to cloud, and by how cloud keeps makes space for him even when he really, really shouldn’t.
see, cloud believes he is zack. this is psychological and somatic: for a long time, cloud thinks that he is a soldier working for the megacorporation that runs the planet. but he isn’t. this identity actually belongs to zack fair, who truly was a soldier, and who died protecting cloud from that megacorporation. 
zack died for cloud. cloud becomes zack. this confusion of identity is borne both as a trauma defence and a grief response: cloud believes he is zack so thoroughly that he forgets zack exists, thereby removing that horrific memory from his mind while paradoxically ensuring that his friend is not lost forever. zack is safe within cloud. here he cannot be hurt. 
and cloud’s absorption of zack is total, taking on his mannerisms, his sword, even his skills and relationships. his style of fighting, his attitude to the world — everything. in doing so, zack fair lives on; it’s not zack who died, not if he is standing right here in a different skin.
i struggle to think of something more yaoi than subsuming another man into your being, other than gay sex. nothing says that zack and cloud don’t have gay sex, but it’s unlikely, as cloud is catatonic for a long time — it’s the reason why zack dies, protecting his vulnerable friend. the lack of physicality between zack and cloud works nicely though. there’s a desperation around cloud’s actions here, an unreasonable response to grief/loss/love that speaks of unfulfillment. zack and cloud’s relationship is all about uncrossable distances, and reaching across anyway. there is little response between the two: they can never reply to each other, only assume permission and act in the way they think the other would want. the other’s existence becomes cerebral, established in thought-space rather than physical-space. and the result is a loneliness so desperate it destroys. zack was as lonely as cloud; zack mythologised cloud too, dreaming of delivering him to safety so intensely that he gave his life to this fantasy.
cloud feels immense shame about his inability to save zack, and later on when he realises what he has done, shame about how he has treated zack’s memory. but i think there’s something here about cloud’s respect and love for someone who took care of him. zack is physically and emotionally stronger, openly affectionate and protective. by taking zack on as a mantle, cloud stays safe. by becoming his own protector, cloud embodies zack more truly than zack himself could manage. he understands what it is that zack truly dreamed of, and gives him another chance to be a hero. 
what i’m saying is: cloud did what zack wanted, though maybe in a more extreme form than he had imagined. i don’t even need the authorial stamp of approval, but i have it anyway — in the movie sequel ADVENT CHILDREN, zack appears in ghost form to support a struggling cloud. and his support is simply to ask cloud to repeat the final words that zack ever said to him, knowing that cloud will understand: “you’ll be my living legacy”. 
these words are imprinted on cloud’s yaoi identity. zack totally meant it as a wish for cloud to survive, but i love the weight of burden here: it sounds like something an overbearing parent would say. cloud subconsciously shapes himself around it. and i can’t ignore how it calls to trauma theory of living legacies, too, though i’m sure square enix didn’t mean to express the theory so textually. here trauma is not solely marked by scars, but by the emotions and behaviours that a person experiences afterwards, which grow and take life of their own. it’s about carrying your trauma around with you, and having it change you physically. as janina fisher tells us, trauma manifests in a person’s life beyond the event as “fear, shame, anger … startling, impulses to run or hide or fight, even against one’s own body”. zack had carried cloud’s body around with him, and the weight of it encouraged him onward to his death; cloud truly was his living legacy in that sense. but zack positions himself as cloud’s living legacy, which cloud’s body must carry not as a physical weight, but as emotion and behaviour that cloud cannot help but follow through. this kind of intense doubling-back and doubling-down is the kind of stuff that makes fujoshis crazy, by the way.
this fucked me up for years. i have always loved stories where important characters are already dead: it’s a style of writing that really impresses me, and i enjoy what it does to the remaining characters who have to live with that hole, or in cloud’s case, in that hole. the fact that cloud fills his hole with zack, and also himself, is so twisty and fun. forgetting and becoming a dead guy is fucked up — absorbing the man who died for you is fucked up. but i think zack would have been ok with it. and what’s better than two guys aligning in their fucked up views?
this brings us to sephiroth.
SEPHIROTH
if sephiroth had his way, cloud would also be his living legacy. he’s the most famous villain in FFVII, driven crazy by his mommy trauma and god complex, and cloud becomes his enemy because he keeps thwarting his plan to destroy the planet. he’s also the other half of sefikura, one of the most enduring and epic ships in the yaoi world. cloud has earned his place as a yaoi icon, and sephiroth is on the podium with him.
during FFVII, cloud pursues sephiroth. this is more than just plot — square enix built this dynamic into the game itself, and it was a resounding success within the industry and the genre. this pursuit mechanic involves looping back around the world map to find this villain in previously-explored locations. by updating the map with sephiroth’s presence, we get to feel his omni-presence in cloud’s mind. the pressure that sephiroth exerts upon cloud to think of him becomes more discernible, and more complex, in sephiroth’s response to being hunted by the protagonist: which is to remove any thoughts that are not of him. he turns cloud into his puppet — he forces his way into cloud’s mind on a psychic level, and imposes his own will onto him. chasing sephiroth makes cloud vulnerable; but he must keep chasing the bad guy. he must knowingly open himself to sephiroth because that is his role in the game; and we as the gamer behind him are pushing him onwards, making him dance on those strings again and again so that we reach the ending. becoming implicit in the roles of martyr and murderer is a heady rush that speaks to the success of sefikura in FFVII. we yaoify cloud. how fun is that?
here’s a quote from cloud: “i wasn't pursuing sephiroth... i was being summoned by sephiroth”. he’s being literal here. sephiroth is deliberately drawing cloud closer, forcing him to follow and find him, because he wants to, um, ‘form reunion’ with him. this is also literal. sephiroth wants cloud to be with him, but more importantly, he wants cloud to be him — to obey his commands, to align with his views, to be in total sync with what sephiroth thinks and feels. this part of their relationship is all about sephiroth: narcissistic to the bone, sephiroth’s obsession with cloud is rooted in how cloud continually pulls away from his call and rejects him.
cloud is meant to be sephiroth’s vessel, by the way. not immediately obvious, especially with the care that the designers took to make their visual appearances contrast. but it’s a really fun plot twist, and one that puts cloud’s identity crises into sharp focus. sephiroth’s identity has been forced onto cloud through medical trauma, with his dna inserted physically into cloud’s body, which turns his mental and verbal objections into something of a painful joke. he doesn’t want to be sephiroth. sephiroth sucks, and keeps killing his friends. but cloud’s body betrays itself, betrays him and keeps him from feeling secure in his own identity. there’s no part of him that he can cut out to get rid of sephiroth; and even after sephiroth is dead, cloud feels him. sephiroth is still in him. whose body is it, anyway?
i’ve made sefikura sound fucked up, and it is, kinda. but it’s easy to understand the hold that it’s had on fujoshi gamers. cloud doesn’t go quietly. sephiroth’s oppressive manipulation is what ignites cloud’s will to fight back. 
sephiroth’s insistence that he is the original, and cloud a copy who must submit, is the kind of crazy that appeals to me more now that i’ve come to terms with my leo sun star sign. i suppose it’s visually similar to how zack and cloud had existed, but in practice it is a more dynamic and charged relationship. like his mother before him, sephiroth is a virus: iterative, defined through the suppression of others and the subsequent displacement with himself. he exists only in this state of violence — is made real through it — and he doesn’t want to live in any other way. as derrida puts it, “as soon as there is the One, there is murder, wounding, traumatism. L’Un se garde de l’autre. The One guards against/keeps some of the Other. It protects itself from the Other… The One makes itself violence.”
sorry for putting french in front of you. this aptly describes and complicates sefikura, because actually, it’s cloud finding himself in that abjection of sephiroth. who is he? not sephiroth’s copy; not sephiroth. he is as much a One as he is an Other, and makes himself more of both as he rejects sephiroth. in that rejection he provokes sephiroth again, who must respond. it’s an equal relationship only through its dynamism, in the constant flux and flow of violence that they put each other through. there’s no real hope of reconciliation between them — they are on guard, always conscious of the power they hold over each other. it’s sustainable only if the two of them live forever, and cloud is the protagonist. eventually sephiroth loses.
sephiroth is measurably more yaoi than zack, by the way. zack has a girlfriend, for all that his character is defined by his homoerotic death scene. sephiroth has an obsession with cloud that follows him into the grave and beyond. in ADVENT CHILDREN, sephiroth somehow manifests into physical fragments in an attempt to resurrect himself — and when he does, he runs to fight cloud. (cloud fights alongside his friends, but always ends his fights with sephiroth alone: their relationship is unique.) it’s here that we get sephiroth’s yaoi line: “i will never be a memory”. once again, it’s the final words that cloud hears before sephiroth dies (again, and hopefully more permanently this time). 
i kinda like it more than “you’ll be my living legacy”. i think it’s more comically connected to living trauma theory: yes, sephiroth is in his nightmares, but he does keep physically appearing to haunt him. it ties in well with sephiroth’s narcissism, but also his place in the wider story as a lapsed war hero that cloud had, at one point, idolised. as a young boy, cloud had looked up to sephiroth and tried to emulate him; cloud had joined the army to be like sephiroth. in a way, sephiroth is more of the origin to cloud’s story than zack is. sephiroth’s fall from grace is something a lot of sefikura fans tap into, recognising the toxicity of that connection. all yaoi should have a healthy dose of painful, hilarious irony. 
i also like how in plain text it seems… relatively mundane? not normal, and definitely terrifying to a man recovering from his protagonist status. but also a little bit like sephiroth is cloud’s crazy ex who just can’t accept the breakup. that does trump zack’s parenting line for me. 
anyway, with sephiroth in place, cloud moves from a fujoshi’s delight to a fujoshi’s icon. it’s in sefikura that we see cloud at his most fierce and dynamic, which is hugely appealing. i think the stakes add rather than detract here, and the pain of finding yourself in/with a man who keeps killing your friends is very thrilling. as true rivals, sephiroth gets to transgress some of the barriers that kept zack from cloud through sheer force of villainy, and the intense mirroring between them is revitalising for cloud. sephiroth gives cloud purpose, defining him as an individual again — a One. that’s yaoi.
CLOUD STRIFE AGAIN
the thing is, i’m not sure cloud wants to be a One. not in the sense that sephiroth means it, anyway. cloud’s identity is a fractured thing, broken up by amnesia and survivor’s guilt and the burden of being a protagonist, but it’s deliberate. it’s a defence mechanism, as fredric jameson puts it, against the eroding currents of life that cloud must continue to run through. a poignant image for a broken midgar, and a textual experience, rather than theoretical, for cloud. yet his healing is not to discard parts that do not resemble cloud-before-the-game, but to try and make amends with what’s left — or rather, what’s there. the final third of the game is cathartic for cloud’s identity, when he reconciles the two truths of being neither zack fair or sephiroth. so, what happened to cloud? is he still there; if so, how does he find that part of himself again? or does he throw it all away and start again? no; cloud refuses to live in rejection any longer. he cannot exist parcelled away in the spaces between people, butting up against their edges. instead he starts to acknowledge and appreciate how they touch him. he is made through the interactions of their identities against, and with, his. cloud has always been there. 
in this way, i think he is yaoi. writing from the perspective of his ship halves makes him appear reflective rather than transformative, but in truth he absorbs. he is a space for other characters to go through (i am calling him a hole) and in doing so, those characters are different. it’s in that type of connection that cloud finds his identity, and i find that really beautiful. deleuze and guattari talk about how a fragmented identity shows an unfettered desire that is rooted in the current of life, and who craves life more than someone who keeps being denied it? refusing to cohere to a single, impenetrable ego is a choice, and it’s one that shows a determination to experience the present whilst not letting go of the past. it’s too hard to be done accidentally, and especially to do it twice. cloud’s showing us something here. 
he’s my favourite kind of protagonist, really. cloud resists the archetype of a lone(ly) soldier trudging on, because he keeps seeking out connection, be it for love or security or purpose. it is only in experiencing relationships that cloud can begin to make sense of his life. he can’t exist on his own. he needs to know someone, and they need to know him. 
and that, to me, is yaoi.
[now read yaoi zine!!!!]
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