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waywardxrhea · 5 months

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Part Twenty-One: Evaluations

[slow burn romance between Steve Rogers and SHIELD agent Emma Baker]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence, (potentially smut later on).

installment list

Word count: 2.3k

Steve gets jealous of Emma's training partner during evaluation day.

One early morning, Emma wakes up to a loud banging on her door. She jumps up with her heart racing and flings open the door to see her training partner knocking. "What are you doing knocking on my door at this hour, Decker?" Emma asks groggily.

He looks completely exhausted and out of breath from running to get her, but manages a cocky smile as he says, "Well good morning sleeping beauty. I would love to stay awhile, but we're doing training with Captain Rogers and Sergeant Wilson today. Rumor has it they're also doing evaluations. We have ten minutes to get out to the field for laps."

Emma sighs and nods. "Thanks for telling me. I'll get dressed real quick. Wait for me?" He nods and waits outside in the hall while Emma gets dressed. While quickly getting her shirt and pants on, she asks herself, "What is it with Steve and getting up at the crack of dawn for exercise?"

Once in her training gear, Emma emerges from her room. Chris smiles and says, "Looking good Baker, you ready?"

"Thanks for coming to get me," she tells him brushing off his blatant flirting, "my room isn't close enough to the rest of yours to hear any announcements about training."

"You're lucky you have a partner like me then," Chris tells her with a wink while they jog to the fields outside the compound.

"Well thank you," Emma responds. She then thinks out loud, "You know, Sam and Steve are gonna get it later since they didn't come to get me, it's their training day after all and Sam's room is right down the hall from mine!"

Chris laughs as they approach the fields and says, "Just don't let them hear that, or else you'll get it during the evals today."

They make it onto the field just as Sam clicks his stopwatch and blows a whistle. He nods at Chris and says, "Thank you for making sure there was no man left behind, Decker."

"Yes sir," Chris says quickly with a curt nod.

Soon after, everyone lines up on Steve's orders before taking off for their laps in groups. While running the grounds, Chris strikes up a conversation with Emma, saying, "I don't know too much about your personal life, Baker, so tell me what exactly is your role in...all of this? I know you're a reporter, so why are you doing training with the rest of us? We're here for field and military training."

Emma is concentrating on her breathing and maintaining her stride, so she doesn't answer right away, and she's lucky she doesn't because at that moment Sam and Steve had jogged up to the group. Steve looks over to Chris and tells him, "Decker, if you have enough breath and energy to have a conversation while running, you aren't working hard enough. Go catch up with the next group." Emma can't help but almost laugh because he got in trouble, but maintains her composure so she can keep an even stride.

"Yes sir," Chris tells him and pulls away from their group to catch up to the one ahead of them.

"Glad to see you made it this morning, Baker," Steve tells her as they maintain pace with the pod of recruits.

"Glad to be here," Emma replies, keeping her eyes forward.

Sam asks, "How much time did you have left by the time Decker got to your room to get you?"

Emma narrows her eyes and responds with, "Respectfully, Sergeant Wilson, didn't you two just send my partner up for conversing while training?"

"Touche," Sam replies.

"Good response," Steve says with a chuckle. "We'll get going. See you later in the training gym."

Emma nods as the two jog off to meet up with the next group. It always feels so weird having to be formal with them seeing as they were some of her best friends, but if they were in fact doing evaluations, it could be the day they promote her to training with the team. She doesn't want to get her hopes too high, but Emma makes a note to take extra care with all of her actions for the day just in case.

After the run and an hour of other training exercises, everyone gathers in the training gym where they get together with their partners for hand-to-hand combat. They're all told to spar in turns for a little while as Sam, Steve, and the other officers walk around providing tips. Natasha joins Sam and Steve as they walk around evaluating the troops, stopping every two seconds to provide constructive criticism to the trainees.

As Emma and Chris start their sparring, he asks in a teasing tone, "Want me to go easy on you today for evals?"

Emma gives him an offended look and tells him, "You act as if I can't hold my own."

"That's because," he replies as swiftly pins Emma to the ground, "you can't."

"That's not fair, you were distracting me!"

He holds Emma to the ground for a bit longer than necessary, and from ten yards away, Steve notices. He suddenly feels his blood begin to boil and unconsciously clenches his fist. Suddenly there's a pair of fingers snapping in front of his face which makes Steve zone back in. "Earth to Cap," Sam laughs.

"Yeah, sorry. Go ahead," Steve replies, tearing his eyes away from Emma and Decker as he tries to relax his body.

"As I was saying, I think we should provide a demonstration of hand-to-hand combat for all of them. Maybe get Nat involved. It could be fun!"

"Yeah, good idea, Sam," Steve replies offhandedly, glancing back to where Emma is.

Sam notices the glance and smirks. Trying to be subtle and pretend he didn't see what happened, he says, "Where's Emma? Shouldn't we be evaluating her hand-to-hand skills?"

"Already on it," Natasha tells them and points to Emma and Decker. The three watch as Emma uses her smaller stature than Decker to quickly maneuver around his punches and grabs. "Using her size to her advantage, quick jabs, light on her feet," Natasha evaluates aloud.

After a few more dodges, Emma sees an opening and makes a move to grab Decker's arm to pin it behind his back. She then sweeps her leg under his and knocks him to the ground, pinning him on his stomach.

"And she did it, not perfect, but we can work on that later," Sam says. He shares a mischievous look with Natasha behind Steve's back and adds, "Maybe we can use Emma in our potential demonstration. What do you say, Cap?"

Steve hadn't been paying too much attention as his mind had wandered a bit, but he snaps back into focus as Sam starts to laugh. "Emma did a good job, yes. Nat could help her out with her form and she'll be golden in the field."

"You need to stop zoning out, Rogers," Natasha says with a smirk, "or else we can't be taking Emma anywhere on missions without worrying about our captain being compromised."

"Compromised?" Steve asks, trying to play it off casually. At that moment, a loud buzzer goes off signaling the end of the day's training. Steve is thankful for the out and tells them, "You two go put evaluations in for the recruits we saw. I'm gonna go talk with the other officers."

Sam and Natasha begin to walk off and Sam smarts off, "If by officers he means Emma."

After filling out all their paperwork, Steve, Sam, and Natasha, accompanied by Maria, go to the dining hall to find Emma. Natasha spots her and points to where she's sitting with Decker, a couple of other female recruits, and some of Decker's buddies. Upon seeing them, Maria asks the group, "Who wants to tell her?"

"I do!" Sam shouts.

Natasha jabs him in the ribs and says, "I think our Captain should tell her."

"Right," Sam says and calms his excitement. "Steve, go tell her."

Steve nods and makes his way over to where Emma is eating with the others. He puts on a stern facade and asks, "Baker, can I speak with you?"

Emma looks up at Steve and sees his stern expression. "Of course, Captain Rogers," she replies, standing up. She follows him to the edge of the room and away from almost everyone's earshot. "What did you want to speak with me about, Cap?"

"Well, after seeing your performance in all of the training today, we have decided to formally extend an invitation to train with the team. You've come a long way since you started your basics and we are excited to have you join us again as an official team member, not just a reporter."

A huge smile bursts onto Emma’s face extending from ear to ear and she does a small happy dance. “Thank you, Cap. I promise I won't let you down!” she tells him, her smile never wavering.

Steve can't help but smile at Emma's reaction as he replies, "I know you won't, Em. You'll be great."

Suddenly a thought hits her, and she can't help but ask, "If I'm gonna be combat trained with the team and I have my tech does that mean...?"

"That you're an Avenger?" Steve asks with a smirk.

"Yeah, that," Emma says, casting her gaze toward the ground, not wanting to overstep.

"It does. Welcome to the Avengers Emma Baker." At the statement, excitement and happiness bubble up and Emma feels as light as air as she throws her arms around Steve without putting too much thought into it.

From behind her, Sam, Natasha, and Maria join the two of them, Sam asking with a grin, "You excited or something?"

Emma let’s go of Steve and smiles, replying, "Okay just...imagine what you see but then like times ten and that's how it is in my brain right now!"

Maria tells her with a smile, "See I told you it would all work out!"

"Welcome to the team," Natasha says. "I'm happy I have another lady here now, there is way too much testosterone in that training gym some days."

Emma laughs and asks, "Does Vision even count in that arena?"

"No, but Rogers has enough to cover for him and then some," Natasha responds with a laugh. At the comment, Steve laughs too, knowing that she's absolutely right. Natasha subtly looks to where Emma had been sitting earlier before saying, "We start tomorrow. You and I will be working on your combat form. We'll have to find another partner for Decker, so do you want to break the news to him, or do you want me to?"

Emma shrugs and says, "I'll do it." As she starts to walk away from the group, she turns back and adds, "Thank you all for believing in me. It feels good to be more than just a bystander."

Emma walks away with a spring in her step and the group starts to disband back to their normal day. "As a welcome to the team thing, did we want to have a little celebration tonight?" Sam asks as he and Steve head to the doors.

"That would be fun, I think she would really appreciate that," Steve replies, shooting a final look at Emma as they exit the room. When he does this, he sees Decker give Emma a kiss on the hand as they part. Irritation fills Steve's head as he tries to concentrate on what Sam is saying, but he can't. Others begin to file out of the dining area and Steve pats Sam on the back before saying, "You go on ahead, I'll catch up with you later, we can discuss details then."

"Okay. I'll get Wanda to make a cake. Talk later. Don't tell Emma!"

"I won't," Steve replies. He looks to his left and sees Emma going in the direction of their quarters of the compound alone. He then spots Decker with a group of recruits walking toward the exit. A feeling of anger mixed with jealousy blinds him so he walks up to him and asks, "Decker, may I have a word with you?"

He immediately straightens his posture and replies, "Yes of course sir." Steve then leads him back into the almost empty dining hall. When they stop walking, Decker asks, "May I ask what this is about?"

"It's about a conflict of interest," Steve improvises as an excuse.

"And what do you mean by that?"

Steve looks at him and tells him sternly, "Fraternizing with a partner, especially in the military, usually ends with consequences you aren't prepared for, Decker. Trust me. Whatever you have going on with Emma isn't worth it."

Decker shrugs. "It wasn't working out anyway. That kiss I assume you saw was a final resort to try and reel her in. It was more one-sided than anything, she doesn't seem open to that stuff." His demeanor suddenly changes and he laughs as he says, "She seems like a prude anyways. Don't think she's ever even kissed anyone. Too bad, I could have been her first, showed her a great night, right, Cap?"

After hearing this, Steve fights the urge to punch the guy on Emma's behalf. He pushes his anger down though and tells Decker in a low tone, "Son, don't you ever let me catch you speaking about her like that again, got it? There's so much more to her than you'll ever know. Maybe if you actually cared about her rather than just trying to hook up with her then you would know that. I'm putting you off with a warning but after what you just said, if I see you come near her again..."

"Is that a threat?" Decker asks, shocked.

Steve pulls himself to his full height and tells him, "You tell me."

Decker deflates and loses all his confidence. "No sir. It won't be a problem."

"Good," Steve says with a final nod. "Now get going."

Steve can't get what Decker said about Emma out of his head, so he heads to the training gym to blow off some steam before celebrating with the rest of the team. He can't believe that someone could say those things about someone as amazing as Emma...

link to the next part

#fanfic #marvel #captain america #slow burn #steve rogers #romance #fanfiction #friends to lovers #Spotify #marvel fanfic series #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers friends to lovers #steve rogers slow burn #protective steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers romance #steve rogers x oc #captain america fic

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amazonworrier · 2 years

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The greatest showman as an AU? Zac Efron/zendaya pairing I forget their character names lol lol

Oh I knew I had a Greatest Showman ask buried in here somewhere! I rewatched it the other night and my mind ran WILD. It’s not quiteeee what you asked for (sorry) but I’m braindumping it here anyway:

Santana as P.T Barnum.

Grew up on the streets after her Abuela kicked her out for being gay. At age 11, met and immediately fell in love with a young, blonde child of wealth called…

Brittany! As Charity Barnum.

Her parents don’t approve of her relationship but respect her decision anyway. Santana makes her money working on the railroad by pretending to be a man for a few years then waltzes up to the front door of the Pierce family home and asks Britt to run away with her. Which she does. Without question. Can you imagine the two of them singing A Million Dreams to a montage of married cuteness? Because I can. I have. It’s wonderful.

Obviously, being an interracial lesbian couple in the 1800s is hard, so as far as wider society knows, they’re just friends. It’s safer that way. The museum of strange and wonderful things is actually Brittany’s idea, but Santana helps her get it off the ground by talking her way into a loan from the bank. When it fails and no one shows up, she finds herself desperately trying to make the money back in time.

That’s when we meet Trouty Mouth.

Santana finds Sam selling oranges at a local fruit market and asks him how many he can fit in his mouth. He remarks that he’s never had any balls in his mouth, but decides to try - taking his shirt off in the process for absolutely no reason. Needless to say, the act draws a huge crowd....

Santana sees $$$$ and asks Sam to come work for her. She then tells Brittany her idea, and the pair begin searching the streets for oddballs and outcasts to join their show. Thanks to the blatant racism & homophobia plaguing society at the time, there’s an abundance of choice...

And thus the circus is born!

Notable cast members include:

The Changs - a trapeze duo who everyone assumes are related because they look similar and have the same last name. They’re not. Y’all are just racist.

Mercedes Jones - a super talented singer who has been shunned by society due to the colour of her skin. (and YES, she sings This is Me. Of course she does).

Artie Abrams - the two-wheeled dancer

Kurt Hummel - the self-proclaimed triple threat seeking sanctuary from a never ending barrage of death threats over his sexuality.

Frankenteen - the world’s tallest man-child.

Needless to say, the circus quickly attracts notoriety, and abundant criticism from local newspaper woman Sue Sylvester, who seeks to destroy them at every turn.

Still, among the people it remains a roaring success. As ticket sales rise, Santana realises she needs more money to expand, and so partners up (on a 70/30 split) with well-respected, wealthy stage actress, Quinn Fabray, who has long-since grown tired of her station in life. Quinn blends seamlessly with the rest of the show, acting as Santana’s stand-in and second in command on a number of occasions. Sue Sylvester describes the pair as ‘a match made in Hell.’ (and yes, they do sing the Other Side in a bar together. It’s great).

Of course, good things never last. Trouble arrives quickly for both of them...

For Quinn, it’s in the form of Tina Cohen-Chang, whom she’s immediately stunned by upon meeting, later realising it’s a little something called love. Needless to say, her dating an Asian woman raises a few eyebrows among polite society. Having been shunned by others all her life, Tina distances herself from Quinn, believing it to be safer for both of them that way. (I just think they’d cover Rewrite the Stars really well together, okay??).

For Santana, it’s in the form of one Rachel Berry, a famous singer from Europe, who Santana meets at their audience with the Queen, and taps to be the next big thing in the US. She puts every last cent she has into promoting Rachel’s show, tossing aside the circus (and her relationship with Brittany) in the process. We get two fabulous dream-sequency solos out of all this mess:

Rachel singing Never Enough

Brittany singing Tightrope

Rachel develops feelings for Santana while they’re on tour. When she makes her feelings known, Santana politely rejects her, announcing that she intends to return home before the last few shows are over. Rachel’s heart is broken. She kisses Santana ‘goodbye’ in front of the press after the show that night, leaving Santana stunned...

Meanwhile, tensions rise between the circus and the locals, and an angry mob burn the place to the ground. Santana arrives to discover her life’s work in flames. All are accounted for but one. Quinn, having mistakenly believed Tina to be in danger, lies unconscious somewhere inside. With Sam and Finn’s help, Santana rescues Quinn moments before the structure collapses. She then travels home to find Brittany packing up her things, having seen the photos in the papers of her and Rachel kissing. The news also revealed that Rachel has abandoned the tour, stating no intention of performing again. Brittany is furious that Santana gambled their life away without asking. She reasons that she would’ve said yes if Santana asked her, but she didn’t, and that’s a far worse betrayal. A heartbroken Brittany returns home to her parents.

Santana loses everything.

Devastated, she retreats to a local bar. The troupe find her there, Mercedes leading the charge in saying that despite Santana’s many shortcomings, they still think she’s worth the trouble. She created a home for all of them - a family. Inspired, Santana resolves to build a new show and not let her desire for fame take over this time. She reconciles with Brittany, while Quinn recovers in hospital with Tina at her side.

As the dust settles, Quinn offers her share of the original circus’ profits to help Santana rebuild, in exchange for becoming a full partner this time, which Santana gladly accepts. They start afresh by the docks, where land is cheaper, in an open-air tent circus.

The revamped circus is a huge success. We end on Santana, Quinn and Brittany taking centre stage with everyone else in front of a huge audience; a reluctant Sue Sylvester applauding them in the crowd.

#anon #brittana #quinntana #pezberry #glee au #santana lopez #brittany s. pierce #quinn fabray #kurt hummel #tina cohen chang #quinntina #mike chang #finn hudson #sam evans #artie abrams #sue sylvester #mercedes jones #rachel berry

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bbbuckaroo · 5 days

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I’m new to this fandom since the buck bi storyline. And I didn’t realize how toxic this fandom is? Or did it just begin because of buck and tommy? I started watching beginning and can tell the chemistry between buck and Eddie but I really don’t see them as an end game? First of all Eddie is clearly straight and I feel like they got together they would break up for sure.

However, my issue is with Oliver and Ryan. I feel like they are playing into the Eddie more since they are on a new network and the buck storyline. It makes me said that Oliver hasn’t promoted Tommy on his social ( other than speaking about it in interviews) but he constantly posts about Eddie. Now with the fighting between the shippers. Saying Oliver and Ryan don’t like Lou in real life and saying Lou is a horrible person. If Oliver says he is grateful to be part of this story why not promote the man who helped him realize he is bi? It’s giving two face to me. However, I don’t want I’m not hating on them but it just gives me a bad taste in my mouth.

What are you feelings on the fighting between ships? And do you think Lou will be back next season?

It had never been toxic to this extent, I started in about season three. There has always been animosity and hate towards any of Buck or Eddie’s love interests (also extended to the actresses themselves) because they are “in the way” of Buddie happening. Buck and Eddie certainly do have chemistry which is what makes them such good friends, partners at work, and part of the 118 family. But aside from some playful comments there has never been any blatant signs of a romantic development between them. Again there are plenty of people who would tell you otherwise but I’m speaking to facts and exactly what we are seeing ON THE SCREEN. And yes, Eddie has thus far been portrayed as very straight, Buck has always had small indicators that he may be a bit more flexible than he realized and Oliver said that himself. I’ve been bi-Buck since day one.

I agree that it definitely seems like Oliver is indifferent to Buck and Tommy’s developing relationship but Oliver has never promoted any of his relationships. He did recently do a few podcasts where he mentioned Tommy and seemed very optimistic about their relationship but I think they got pushed to the back by all the continuing Buddie hysteria. I can try and dig them up. And then the gold we got today with Access Hollywood where they both proved that no, they do not hate each other and yes, Buck is supportive of the relationship. And as much as we and other actors may be aware Buddie is barely a speck on the horizon (if one at all) they honestly have to stay neutral. It’s show business and they don’t want to do anything to affect viewership. Even if it is negative attention. That would really be almost a conflict of interest for them. Fans could say Ravi and Karen were having an affair and they honestly couldn’t say anything otherwise. If anyone does, it’s Tim or any other higher ups.

I see Oliver promoting Eddie because Eddie ISN’T a love interest. He’s Buck’s best friend and such a pivotal part of his character and also a major character vs. supportive. So by him promoting it, and promoting it as a platonic relationship, he’s basically saying it’s not a romance. I hope that makes sense. Also Oliver’s been burned (no pun intended) in the past and it’s gone as far as Oliver deleting all his posts and deactivating his accounts. So he’s also protecting himself and the other actors who get dragged into it.

I’m not going to say I’m entirely neutral and unprejudiced but BuckTommy’s (BT’s) didn’t start this toxicity. We started celebrating and loving the CANON relationship and development of Buck’s character. It’s been received so well, despite the hate that most people see, and people are so excited about this for Buck. When we embraced it and were happy for Buck, the delulu’s lost their minds because here we have a canon Buck relationship that 1. Doesn’t involve Eddie and 2. Makes Buck seemingly the happiest he’s been thus far. Then every time we stayed in our lane posting about it, the hate came. Now it’s like we feel we have to push back because besides involving us, they’re involving the actors and show-runners who work their asses off for this show. So of course we’re going to go to bat for them because they’re the reason we’re here! I know that we need to not pay attention to it and feed the fire but honestly with some of the nasty stuff they’re saying, it’s hard not to defend ourselves. But again, that is my opinion as a BT shipper.

And yes, I definitely think Lou will be back and that’s not what I believe to be wishful thinking. It’s clear Tommy’s reappearance was a two episode experiment, the cast and Tim hinted heavily at that, but with the reception they brought him back and viewership has only gone up and Buck’s story, Tommy or not, has resonated with so many people. To give this to Buck, a hopeful and healthy relationship, and then take it away would only perpetuate Buck’s hamster wheel of love. This man was very misguided but has always loved love and being love. The man lives for his 118 family and adores children, it’s clear he wants a stable, healthy relationship and showing that on the show is such beautiful and full circle development. It brings hope that no matter how lost someone is, if they persevere and work hard, they can be found and be happy. I think a lot of people need to see that in their lives today. And I see that in Tommy and I think everyone else does, including Tim and the cast, who have all been so positive about it. Their opinions are what matters most and ours are mere talk aside from the positivity and encouragement we can bring from commenting on social media and watching the show.

It’s the school yard bully: if you pay attention to them they thrive off of it and only get crueler. But if you ignore them, if you don’t feed their insecurities, eventually they’ll go away and move on elsewhere. So that’s all we need to do, as hard as it may be. Welcome to the fandom, ENJOY yourself, ignore the bullshit, and thank you for reading my novel. Glory day 😳

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fatehbaz · 3 years

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is it OK to watch national geographic and channels like that? they make me so happy and are informative i guess but idk is it exploitative? is it ok? sorry if i sound dumb

Well, I am the last person who ought ever to act as an arbiter of what’s “right” and what’s “wrong”, or what’s “OK” and what’s “not OK”. That said, I don’t think this is a dumb concern at all. The opposite: I think this is very conscientious to ask, and good of you to be concerned. A great question. I don’t know the answer.

In fact, without exaggeration, I ask myself this, in some form or another, every day, you could say. When encountering field guides, textbooks, wildlife documentaries, distribution maps, etc. I must ask myself about the violence committed in pursuit of quote-unquote “scientific knowledge” because of the consistent, blatant, egregious centuries-long history of Euro-American scientific institutions committing violence to acquire, systematize, monopolize, and weaponize knowledge. And even when a larger institution is not involved in the “encounter”, I still ask myself: “I appreciate that my friend thought to send me a photo of this toad, but were the photos acquired in an ethical way? Was the toad harmed?”

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I’ve got a couple of recommendations, some reading stuff I think you might like. I’ll share those below.

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Temporarily setting aside the history of Euro-American bioprospecting, imperial botany, and dispossession of Indigenous knowledge, some thoughts regarding wildlife documentaries and visual media, specifically:

You see a viral photograph of a frog sitting on a mushroom. Did the photographer unnecessarily corral, physically coerce, chemically anesthetize, and then artificially position the frog for this quaint shot? (Most likely, yes.)

Are the “small” harms and ‘little” violences and transgressions committed in pursuit of this scientific media or wildlife documentary acceptable or excusable because the end result is that a wider human audience -- through viewing this media -- has now been inspired to gain an interest in ecology, inspired to gain an interest in traditional ecological knowledge, inspired to preserve a local remnant prairie? Maybe not.

You see a photograph of a terrestrial mollusc, a land snail, a rare species. In fact, because the photographer documented the snail, perhaps we now have a better understanding of its ecological needs, its uniqueness, the perogative for preserving the snail’s specific streamside microhabitat. But you ask yourself: Did the photographer trample other microhabitat to reach this location? Did they flip over a bunch of decaying logs on the forest floor, looking for the snail, thereby destroying the worlds of nearby slugs, worms, salamanders, etc.? Did the sponsoring institution, like an academic biology department, send along a field technician with an electrofishing device, which was used to shock other creatures in the stream and catalogue its fish species, and will this information eventually be used by land management to interfere with the stream, to introduce non-native sport fish?

You see a magazine piece about the “ethnobotany” and plant knowledge of an Indigenous people in Amazonia. The piece is very flattering; the author admires and celebrates these people and their knowledge. But are they a voyeur? They’re just ... popping in, stopping by, to gawk in wonder at “these strange people”? Isn’t it weird, insulting, absurd that the author keeps describing these peoples’ lives with terms like “ethnobotanical”? Girl, this is how they cook food, why are you invoking nineteenth-century French anthropologists to describe these “strange and wonderful people”? Is the magazine, by promoting this plant knowledge, even in positive light, actually opening this Indigenous community to an influx of Bay Area psychonaut tourists or eco-lodges? Will pharmaceutical companies now send a team of bioprospectors to document local plants, to steal this plant knowledge, looking for a profit-gaining drug marketable in the metropole?

So, with National Geographic specifically, especially when they're dealing with Indigenous and non-Western cultures, there is great reason to ask: Is this exploitative?

Just some questions to keep in mind.

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I also make a big distinction among certain institutions. Like, it seems there’s a difference in the scale of potential ethical compromise, violence, and boundary-crossing. A difference between when, say, a backyard birdwatcher or mushroom-lover or well-meaning ecologist seeks to “capture” through research or media some element of the creature/landscape or the human encounter with the other-than-human ... a difference between that, and when a larger well-funded institutions seeks to capture these encounters. What are the motives of the larger institution? In the US for example, land management agencies (major employers of ecologists) function as de facto enablers of resource extraction, with their ecological research ultimately geared towards justifying those policy decisions, even if genuine “knowledge” is gained or “good ecologically-sound decisions” inadvertently result. And then there are the TLC’s and latter-day Discovery Channel’s of the world, whomst capture theses encounters to sensationalize and profit. But I’ll concede: As a child, living in the rural hinterland before the existence of internet search engines, nowhere near a library, sure, sensationalized wildlife documentary programming and bare-bones basic entry-level kids’ “animal books” were a lifeline to me, and did inspire and influence me. Specifically, regional field guides and the earlier BBC programming (Life of Birds and Blue Planet, especially) were formative for me. After all, Blue Planet was a revelation; who else on this planet, besides the most well-connected, wealthiest inheritors of British imperial wealth and networks could have afforded to acquire such intimate images of the deep sea, visuals and new ecological knowledge which was shocking in its revelation of hidden worlds? But how is it that BBC came to have so much wealth? How did British power-brokers come to gain exclusive access to certain Caribbean or South Pacific islands? This is the legacy of empire. And given my interests in the intersections between landscapes, ecologies, and human communities, I’d be lying if I didn’t concede that National Geographic, specifically, wasn’t a major inspiration. But, again, as someone who was given a scholarship once upon a time by National Geographic, I’ve since come to despise National Geographic’s voyeuristic, imperialist, chauvinist, possessive, Euro-American gaze; its gawking at foreign cultures; it’s (not-so-)passive support of US-led global hegemony/neoliberalism; it’s glorification of a sort of vaguely-”progressive”-appearing evolution of what basically still amounts to Victorian Explorer expeditionary “pioneer” masculinity; the way it extracts Indigenous stories and Indigenous pain as curiosities; etc. Of course, you will have well-meaning ecology enthusiasts argue: “Sure, television shows like Epic Crocodile-vs-Shark Explosion and Deadliest Monsters of the Jungle: Ultimate Predator Showdown are a little silly, but ultimately, if they inspire some young kids to get interest in ecology, some good results!” OK, maybe so, on occasion. But we do have to honestly ask ourselves if we’re really protecting our own egos by making that justification. Ecology enthusiasts and academics and “scientists” will sometimes -- to protect their own self-image as “an environmentalist” or to protect their ego against accusations that their “conservation traditions” or sponsoring institutions might be culpable in violence/dispossession -- jealously defend the merits of sensationalizing wildlife documentary media. That’s a whole other can of worms that I don’t really have the energy to get into now.

A lot to consider.

I’m not trying to make some kind of definitive statements here. I still grapple with my role, involvement, culpability in dispossession. Am I transgressing boundaries I ought not to? Who was harmed to bring me this information? So, if I sound harsh -- if it sounds like I’m insulting what for you was formative media: Some of us may have been initially introduced to ecology, wildlife biology, non-Western ontology through bad, harmful, problematique media. Can we make reparations for this? Maybe, maybe not. But we can resolve to now do better regardless.

Like. Do I watch clips from Blue Planet? Yes. All the time. Maybe we can approach it, occasionally, as a “no ethical consumption under capital!sm” situation, like a repurposing of the tools of the villains.

Did the US military-industrial complex create the tech/infrastructure to establish a system of orbital satellites for power-hungry reasons? Yes. Can I still use G00gle Earth imagery, taken from those satellites, to find a cool place to go swimming or look for snake habitat? Yes.

Can we watch footage of bioluminescent sea creatures in order to admire the planet, and enjoy it, while still keeping in mind how these institutions came to acquire enough power to produce the images?

Ultimately, is watching documentary programming about social/environmental justice better than watching something like F0x News? Sure, probably. And if it’s inspiring you to do good? Cool. At least, you could say that you’re consuming problematique media, still gaining some info, it’s informative. So long as we’re conscious of, for example, NatGeo’s motives, origins, etc. We can take useful information from some problematique sources. The fact that you’re watching stuff with the right intent (to learn, to grow, to be inspired, etc.) is probably a good sign.

All media sucks, in some way, in some aspect. All media has its problems. So maybe sometimes the best we can do is watch it with good intent while conscious of its shortcomings and origins.

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Anyway, I’ll defer to these authors. Some interesting perspectives. I don’t necessarily agree with everything they say, but definitely interesting to think about.

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A discussion of visualizing nature through wildlife documentaries and eco-tourism, who controls these visuals, and to what ends they’re employed.

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Alaina Claire Feldman. "Minor Listening, Major Influence: Revisiting Songs of the Humpback Whale." e-flux. May 2021.

Recent (May 2021) and good discussion of how “environmentalists” and ecology enthusiasts and scientists, even when ostensibly attempting to be wholly objective, still heavily mediate their audience’s encounters with other-than-human life by choosing what to write, what to include, what language to use. This essay explores the famous and influential 1970 environmental field recording album Songs of the Humpback Whale.

[Excerpt:] The conditions of recording sounds outside are significantly different than recording them in a studio. In “Sound Sterile: Making Scientific Field Recordings in Ornithology,” Joeri Bruyninckx discusses how ornithologists in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries made conscious decisions about what to record and how to record it. These decisions were structured by recording techniques and technologies that muddled traditional scientific boundaries between fieldwork and the laboratory (and therefore binaries such as the uncontrollable/overcontrolled, found/made, immersed/detached, and so on). Despite the removal of contextual sounds like the wind or machinery, ornithologists considered extracted and edited bird calls as authentic and faithful reproductions. [...] Songs of the Humpback Whale wasn’t the album one would play at a club, a birthday, or a social gathering. [...] The original fieldwork required to record these tracks in the open ocean was now domesticated and even personalized through the many samples and remixes the album inspired. Popular musicians like Kate Bush, Judy Collins, and Pete Seeger contributed to framing the sounds as musical commodities. The production, circulation, and popularization of these sounds might be compared to Victorian popularizations of aquariums. Indeed, throughout the nineteenth century, once unknowable species came to be understood via meaning-making technology like microphones, spectrographs, photography, and the aquarium tank. Just as the aquarium brought the ocean into domestic space for amateur scientists and entertainment alike, so too did this record. [...] At the turn of the nineteenth century, representations of animals once considered wild could easily be domesticated and studied through the popularization of such technology. In fact, the language used around sound itself -- “captured,” “channel,” “wave” -- has much to do with Western epistemologies of colonial exploration, control, and domination. [End quote.]

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Helen F. Wilson. "Contact zones: Multispecies scholarship through Imperial Eyes." Nature and Space. 2019.

An excellent discussion of the implications of wildlife documentaries for interspecies understanding, focused specifically on BBC’s Blue Planet. This article is available for free online. Some really good portions in here. While wildlife documentaries provoke “affective and haptic encounters with alterity” -- perhaps promoting healthier interspecies relationships or an ecological consciousness -- this media is produced through “heavily mediated ways.” Take the narration, for example: “these awkward creatures” or “this adorable cuttlefish” or “this untouched abyss” or other language choices, or the way that the BBC might play carnival-like or whimsical ukelele music over footage of crabs, pre-determining how an audience ought to interpret what might be their first encounter with or consideration of these animals.

This article also has some really cool things to say about the indecipherability of communication with other-than-human creatures. Untranslatable. Other creatures may be sentient, but not in a "human" way. So we can respect the autonomy of other-than-human creatures without anthropomorphizing them. There will always be a barrier to complete understanding, just as their may be between two humans.

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This brings to mind an article that I really enjoyed, from the words of Bawaka Country elders.

Bawaka Country including, S. Wright, S. Suchet-Pearson, K. Lloyd, L. Burarrwanga, R. Ganambarr, M. Ganambarr-Stubbs, B. Ganambarr, D. Maymuru. “Gathering of the Clouds: Attending to Indigenous understandings of time and climate through songspirals.” Geoforum. January 2020.

As they put it:

Ada Smailbegovic talks of starfish time (2015). Starfish may seem to be still, but longer attention, through time-lapse photography for example, shows them moving, changing. Smailbegovic also talks of larval time, the time it takes for eggs to develop and hatch [...]. Then there are beings that experience hundreds, thousands of generations within a human lifetime. For such beings, the memories, learnings and modes of passing on experience are, it almost goes without saying (yet it must be said as it is so often not), radically different from any human’s in terms of the ways they experience change. The immensity of the alterity is, literally, incomprehensible to humans. We can’t know how and what these beings know. But we can be aware that they have knowledges and experiences beyond us. For many people, coming from different cultural and ontological positions, not knowing does not mean not connecting or not respecting. For it would seem that there are things that humans cannot and should not know. We don’t need to know what starfish know. But we should know they live and experience and think beyond us. We should seek respect and be aware of how our lives are entangled […]. It is not abstract, or empty.

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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You always seem down on the idea of the Batfam. I mean, it is hard to take seriously when writers make Bruce hostile or downright abusive towards his kids, or when Batfam members never interact. But do you think the concept itself is good, and it's just been the victim of bad writing? Or do you think the Batfam is a bad idea that can never work?

Hi there Anon! Thank you for the ask!

Hmm, this is a difficult question. Maybe I can answer this better if I do it in parts because the concept of “Batfamily” is used in different ways currently. A way to separate them can be, DC’s Batfamily, Fandom’s Batfamily and Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon.

DC’s Batfamily:

My rejection of this version of Batfamily comes from all angles, it is not a good concept within comics lore anymore, it’s badly written and used to hide and move on from truly horrendous actions done by Bruce towards the rest of the family, and DC uses the concept of “Batfamily” that fandom has become so attached to, so they can profit off of it without writing anything of real essence with it.

Why did I say that the Batfamily isn’t a good concept anymore? Well, because the Batfamily that I first came across in comics included, Bruce, Dick, Alfred, Barbara, Tim and Cassandra. It was rather small and their books interconnected and had pretty solid relationships with one another. Dick and Tim got along and spent time together, Barbara mentored Cass so she could become Batgirl and so on and so forth. The family was smaller and more connected. But they still had problems and bad habits then. So, I liked them as a group of people that worked together and the name they received was “Batfamily” as a way for DC to profit from it.

Right now, the Batfamily is huge, I don’t know if you have seen those splash pages with all the members of it for Rebirth and Infinite Frontier, but those promotional pages were crazy big, characters like Harley and Clownhunter are now considered part of the “Batfamily” and all that. Then there is the kind of characters like Cass, Steph and Kate who are all connected to Batman but that haven’t been appearing in books for very long, so putting them on that page really feels like DC is trying to prove that their “Batfamily” actually has women on it, but it’s just for show.

And then there is Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, the most recognizable faces of the Batfamily aside from Bruce and Alfred (but Alfred is dead now so he doesn’t really count), all of them have had issues with Bruce or are indifferent to the existence of one another. Yes, Tom Taylor has included Tim in Dick’s book but here is the thing, it feels like he put him there just to make fans shut up about the lack of content with both of them acting as they used to do. But its false and lazy, Taylor just brought Tim to the book but we don’t get to see Tim and Dick interact in ways that can explain why they drifted off, it kinda seems like all those years where Dick and Tim were pulled apart never happened to DC and that makes me think “cash grab”. I would have loved to see them interact again if it meant that we would have some solid story for them to develop their relationship once more.

At the end of Rebirth, Damian was pissed off at Bruce and they had a fight and Damian left the manor completely. Bruce beat up Jason, then gave him a hug but still told him that he was banned from Gotham and all that abuse and manipulation was swept under the rug when DC came out with Urban Legends: Cheer, all they did with that story is lie and made-up stories about Jason wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree so Gotham can finally be the home to his beloved family (lies, lies, lies).

On top of all that we have the neglect, abuse and manipulation that Bruce had going on with Dick, ever since Bruce manipulated Dick into joining Spyral his actions haven’t faced any consequences (the family still believes that Dick was the one who lied about dying). And as recently as the end of Rebirth, Dick suffered from a head injury that left him amnesiac and Bruce absolutely didn’t care enough to look after him when he was so vulnerable and alone. DC had the audacity of having Bruce say that he was looking after Dick while Dick went from one villain manipulating and hurting him to another, and if we look at Batman’s run, we can see that he spent some of that time in a weird pit or playing catch the pussy with Selina in a tropical island.

So, taking all those things into account, I honestly believe that the Batfamily is a concept that absolutely does not belong in comics. If it were to be taken seriously then DC should come up with (organic, not forced) stories that make these characters connect once again, but they have to be careful, just because they can connect it doesn’t mean that everyone gets along and they have group chats and eat dinner together of Fridays, that would be a blatant lie and just too out there for their kind of dynamic, so, they should take things slow, start re-building what once was an make it better (if they want to make it work and feel like less of a cash grab).

I heard that there is a book with Cass and Steph being mentored as Batgirls by Barbara coming out in December, that to me is a good thing, what was done in Robin #5 was awful, Jason didn’t have or want to be there, Tim, what the hell was Tim doing there? The only ones that have gotten along with Damian and have had a solid relationship with him were Dick and Steph. Dick had a very nice moment with Damian in that issue, but Steph didn’t, they preferred to have Jason wanting to hug Damian instead (what the actual hell was that?).

Fandom’s Batfamily:

Fandom is a place where people can take any concept from anywhere and transform it into whatever they please. This fandom is just like any other in that matter, but I have noticed that sometimes the Batfamily Fandom tends to blur the lines between what’s fanon and canon. Their lore is so deep and established among people that they sometimes (willingly or not) make new readers or other people believe that how things and perceived in fandom is how things actually are in comics, and that is a huge problem.

Things like “Dick sent Jason to Arkham when the Joker was just a cell away”, “Jason has pit madness and when he gets mad his eyes turn glowy green”, “Dick was a horrendous brother to Jason before Jason died”, “Jason would be good friends with Tim and Cass”, “Jason is the only one that sees the world differently from Bruce and the other robins because he is the only one that comes from a life with no luxury” and so on and on and on…

All of those things are sometimes treated as the absolute truth by fandom and no matter how many times people have debunked and explained that those things aren’t part of comics’ canon because they are simply not true, fandom stills treats those things as the basis of their Batfamily lore.

That lore would be actually fascinating if people didn’t lose sight so easily of the fact that at the end of the day none of that lore can be applied to comics’ canon.

When you enter this fandom things can be extremely confusing and the way some of the characters are characterized are completely different to their canon characterizations, I knew that the Dick fandom was writing about was not real, but I had no idea that Tim being a coffee addict that hasn’t slept in five months and is an absolute genius in everything and anything that he does was completely out of character for him, I just thought that was true to his character in comics too. Something like that happened to me when I took a peek at Jason’s side of fandom, by that time I had read Red Hood/Arsenal, UtRH and New 52 RHatO (yeah in that order, Red Hood/Arsenal wasn’t finished yet though), with the already conflicting characterizations of those books, the first look that I had at fandom’s Jason confused me even more. After considering all those I decided that the Jason that I wanted to see and actually looked appealing to me was UtRH Jason.

Not all people in fandom read comics and that is ABSOLUTELY VALID, I have zero problems with people not liking the comic characterizations of the “Batfamily” characters, but that in itself also creates a rift between fans themselves.

Fandom’s Batfamily lore being introduced in comics’ canon:

This is obviously the intersection of the other two points and this is the biggest problem that I have with the Batfamily concept. The fandom lore has been leaking into comic’s canon for a while now but right now we are kinda drowning in it. Decisions that have been made recently in DC like, Jason giving up his guns, the group chats in Nightwing issues, the family dinners that were hinted at in Cheer #6, and Bruce having had at the ready a Red Hood suit for Jason with a Batman logo in its chest, have been proof enough that DC is planning on skipping any kind of solid writing for these characters to actually get along. We are never going to see these people sit down and talk about their differences and respect each other’s work ethics.

We are never going to get stories of actual essence that prove that these characters understand and care for each other, we are just going to be told that “all is good” and now everyone loves one another and they will build from there.

That is a problem for me.

And it also takes away duality from Gotham’s vigilantes, I know I say this too much but it’s the truth, putting all these characters under the ruling of Batman makes them all bland. Jason shouldn’t be part of any sort of group that involves Bruce! My god, I don’t want to see them interact anymore! Bruce has been absolute trash to Jason ever since he came back from the dead and I am tired of DC trying to make them be on good terms!

Jason and Bruce not getting along can co-exist with the fact that Jason isn’t a villain to Batman’s legendary hero. Jason is his own character, with his own morals and he doesn’t need a bat symbol on his chest or book logo to be relevant. Same with Dick, Tim and Barbara, let them be characters that can stand on their own because they have already done that!

Barbara as Oracle worked WITH Batman if she wanted, she had her own logo and had passed on the mantle of Batgirl because he had grown out of it.

Dick is Nightwing and has become an even better hero than Batman could even aspire to become, he has contacts with everyone in the DC universe, has led countless teams, he doesn’t NEED a batman logo on his book or to be constantly dragged back to him just to make the Bat more compelling.

Jason, my sweet Jason, he had his own logo! It was gorgeous and then Lobdell had the audacity to stamp a Batman logo in the middle of the book name and in Jason’s chest! Have we gone absolutely mad? Why did they do that? Lobdell’s constant back and forth with Jason and his feelings for Bruce, he respects him and he doesn’t, he kills and he doesn’t… each issue felt like a new take on the character! It was crazy!

And that has happened with everyone in the “family”. I will end this by saying that Bruce/Batman being at the centre of this “Batfamily” dynamic is the most laughable thing in the DC Universe. Batman isn’t family to any of the people that they constantly surround him with, he is a piece of shit.

Anyway Anon, I hope this answer doesn’t ruin your day and that you understand that even though I really don’t like the “Batfamily” concept, you and everyone else are allowed and encouraged to think differently!

Hope you have a marvellous day Anon!

#jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #damian wayne #batfamily #batfam #dc comics #asksss

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phoenix-is-the-hottest-thing · 2 years

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hiya! before i begin, i would like to just mention that this ask is entirely in good faith, so sorry if i say anything upsetting, its not on purpose!

but basically, i wanted to clear a few things up about the proshipping post! since my whole fandom experience i have been mainly in antishipper circles, but im critically pro-kink, pro-sex, etc. im also not against consuming "problematic" things as long as its not blatant glorification or encouraging people to do that stuff. would that technically make me neither an anti nor a proshipper? sorry if this ask comes off as annoying, im genuinely curious!

it makes your moral code aligned with what most "proshippers" think is fine, actually. you don't have to pick a label or anything, but like... yeah that's roughly what people who identify as such think.

as a side note. when I'm told i'm "promoting" or "supporting" bad stuff i usually go to the extreme and ask "there's fics telling you to vote for the incest party in the elections??" because I feel like people are hella conflating political propaganda with kink writing, which is... insane? like, when you look at it this way, it's insane right? who would benefit from that, pornhub? i don't think there's a pornhub conspiracy.

Ahem.

I have genuinely never seen good faith fic or fanart that actually intended to make people want to do anything to real people. The closest I can think of to such a thing is like, BDSM fics that go out their way to explain what the culture is and why it's not evil/mean/etc, which, honestly, is super fair.

imo it's a bit of a given? Unless the writer is EXTREMELY unself-aware, which is a different issue, the appeal of a ""problematic"" work is gonna be that it's... well, stuff you can't actually do irl. Like, that's the whole point. That's WHY it's fun. if the reader chooses to go "omg i wanna try it" that is actually the reader's idea and responsibility! all I can do is wish them a safe, sane and consensual time.

This whole anti thing, it's kinda like those guys telling women to cover up because they're "asking for it". It's the same culture— that the tempted isn't fault for not resisting their own damn impulses, it was the hot stuff ALL ALONG, plotting to make them do evil stuff by existing and being seen.

Newsflash, this is bullshit

And, AGAIN? Proshipper does not even mean person who writes weird shit. It's just people following the old "live and let live" positivity credo. I sure as hell don't want to spend my life fighting for how my personal comfort and views trump other people's boundaries, so I'm not an anti, simple as that. I'd also like them to just let me enjoy what I am okay with. yes this is why i loathe DNIs being everywhere, it's a constant pressure

Oh dear I went on a whole ramble there. anyway

On a more personal level: anon, if you're genuinely happy with your anti circles, it's probably fine, but.

If you EVER feel like you have to hide who you are or what you think from them in order to fit in, run like hell, okay? That's not healthy. You can always find more friends, but you can't rebuild your self-esteem or mental health as easily.

I'm saying this because there's a lot of toxicity in anti circles, tho mostly the more extreme ones, so if you're ever afraid of saying what you're thinking it's not a healthy space.

#asks #phoebe rambles

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danwhobrowses · 2 years

Text

Spider-Man: No Way Home - Review

At 10:30am I sat in a cinema, a tad concerned that there was people sitting next to me, ready to watch something we had been anticipating for a long time. Marvel and Sony's most ambitious crossover story had finally arrived, so now I can review it

Obviously, there will be spoilers for this movie, so go and watch it (warning though, the 'second post-credits scene' is not a post-credits, it's a trailer for another movie)

So it's no surprise that I enjoyed this movie, but alas it wasn't the best Spider-Man movie as it could have been, definitely a strong showing but it had some messy content too: which I will get into.

What wasn't great about the movie

Please bear in mind that while these are criticisms, these are not dealbreakers in my enjoyment of the movie, they're more observations that made me pause a little.

The Usual Problem of Trailer Content While the trailers did do a good job in keeping most of the trailer content in the first half of the movie, I will stay consistent and say that there were some scenes in the trailers modified in the movies. It didn't change the tone of the plot but still, it's a nuisance to promote something that's not in the movie.

Flash Thompson is just terrible I've had a bit of a mixed feeling towards MCU's version of Eugene 'Flash' Thompson, but No Way Home did nothing to help that. The guy's main character point is that as much as he's a dick to Peter, he is Spider-Man's biggest fan; he believes in him, he admires his strive and commitment. So it sucked that when he found out Peter was Spider-Man the first thing he did was seek to profit from it: writing a book and pretending to be Peter's best friend, without getting any of the harassment, cancel culture or negativity his actual friends did - it's off is what it is. Plus it makes little sense why Peter needs to go through Flash to plea his application to MIT - which Flash somehow got into despite all this profiteering.

The First Act is perhaps a little too slow One can understand starting the movie where Far From Home left off, however, it left a lot of repetitive stuff of Peter and co being treated differently now that everyone knows he's Spider-Man. For some reason though Peter's charges are dropped thanks to Matt but Stark Industries is taken down because the drones are Stark's (also we do no service towards actually clearing Peter's name, like it should be really easy to prove that Mysterio was lying) so it basically kills off all of Peter's AI advantage, but he can still use the spider-limbs that one time. It is necessary, but it's annoying that it took so much time out of the movie AND that the straw that broke the camel's back is going to MIT, it did feel like there were worse times where MJ and Ned suffered which could've warranted Peter going to Dr. Strange better. We could've sped through the initial aftermath and gotten to the same destination.

The film still struggles to leave Tony Stark's shadow A common criticism of the MCU Spider-Man is how most of his stories still end up revolving around Tony Stark in some way: Vulture and Mysterio being disgruntled Stark-haters and Peter uses Stark tech in his suit. While No Way Home will end the Stark dependency, much of its Second Act ends up being due to Tony Stark's tech: the Fabricator. This magic 3D Printer thing becomes key to Doc Ock being 'healed' - not to mention how the nanotech of Stark's suit is what nullifies Doc Ock's tentacles - as well as providing an Arc Reactor for Electro to use, while not as blatant as prior movies, I am tired of Stark being the reason for Spider-Man's success and enemies.

They got rid of the Goblin Mask! Green Goblin's suit in the Raimiverse was cartoony yes, but it also fit the manic alternate personality Norman had within him. To shatter it really early in the film did make me feel a little sad, not to mention replacing it simply with some goggles and a hood like Harry's Raimi Goblin, which of course looked less striking, would've been cooler to keep it around, or even remake it.

Some major characters felt wasted It can't be much of a surprise given the massive amount of character and famous actors in this movies, so unfortunately some characters fall through the cracks. The biggest letdown in that is Lizard, his arrival is him already captured, then he spends most of the movie hiding in a van until the fights happen, given how he was a similarly tragic character to the Raimi villains it was a shame that Lizard didn't really get some time to flesh himself out. Similar criticism can be said for Happy and MJ; while they're present a lot in the movie they do little in the grand scale, watching others do the thing. Also Dr Strange, while it isn't his movie of course he is a key part of why this is happening, so it's surprising that after their mirror dimension fight he's just gone until he needs to properly clean up the mess.

Sandman's motivations to turn are weak I can understand Sandman wanting to go home, and I can understand him not fully trusting Holland's Peter, but Flint deciding to fight with the villains on the Statue of Liberty was, daft. He wants to go home right? He's supposed to be a crook with a heart and yet he acts pretty heartless towards Holland, and then when Tobey is here he shows zero sympathy there either, almost drowning him in his own sand. Sandman could've easily just been a hero that the villains neutered like Norman 'curing' him before his deception was revealed to keep him off the board.

Aunt May felt kinda fridged The idea of making Aunt May's death the Uncle Ben for Holland didn't land for me. Marisa Tomei put on a good performance for her death but we already saw this from the PS4 game and this death does kinda come out of the blue, only to serve a moment where Tobey gets stabbed stopping Holland from killing Norman. I can understand the direction, but it did feel like we put Aunt May in the fridge, not so long after Peter got over Tony's death, to make him vengeful towards the end.

Tobey barely encounters Norman While Garfield got some time to chat with Max and Tobey time with Octavius and Flint, it was a shame we didn't retread the baggage that comes with Tobey's Peter and Norman. A minor shame, but still one, especially since he steps in to stop Holland from killing Norman. They don't even exchange in dialogue, despite how a lot of Tobey's character baggage with MJ and Harry come from his confrontation with Norman, we don't get closure on that.

'I was kinda hoping you were black' Small thing but I felt it kinda unnecessary for Max to say this to Garfield. I mean Into the Spider-verse is one of the most popular Spider-Man films, we know about Miles Morales (and very much enjoy his version of Spider-Man), this quote just felt a little bit forced to me, especially if the MCU doesn't intend to build on it.

The Spell's rules are broken almost instantly Remind me, when did Electro find out that Spider-Man was Peter? Better yet, when did Tom Hardy's Venom? Strange said that those were the parameters and yet they still showed up. The spell itself is wonky from the start anyway, it's clear that parameters can be set since Strange has done this spell before which he can remember but not Wong but why do the old parameters still stay mid casting? Why couldn't Strange just cancel the initial versions of the spell like he has done with other versions, it is for lack of a better explanation a convenient plot device. As a result of this spell too it was weird also that Lizard and Octavius don't remember their repenting but it was implied that it was before their defeat. Then came the retcon when suddenly it's okay for the symbiote to stay around, and the idea that everyone will just 'forget' is not so airtight.

According to Jameson's post-battle report, they still remember Spider-Man's actions, just that they don't know it's Peter, so surely people will still connect the dots. Ned, Happy and MJ don't just forget that they worked alongside Spider-Man after all? So wouldn't Ned and MJ retain knowledge of the places they hanged with Spider-Man, remember being with Aunt May and Spider-Man? It seems a bit too convenient that the spell picks and chooses this way. Also there's still that huge mural in his high school, does that get erased? I mean it belongs in-universe so it can't be retconned right? There'd also still be paperwork; blogs, articles, paper trails, Matt Murdock's consultant fees, arrest warrants, negotiation tapes, Mysterio's video, the spell may've erased Peter Parker from memory but there's still physical evidence of his existence and his appearance.

The Ending is a Downer While I expect MJ and Ned to return in the later sequels - since Holland is signed for 2 more movies - it was a bit of a sour taste that we went as close as the MCU could get with the infamous 'One More Day' plot - the main difference being that Aunt May is still dead and Peter was never married anyway. I can understand Peter's reasoning to not involve MJ and Ned, but as I noted earlier they would still remember helping out Spider-Man, it's not exactly an avoidable situation, plus he made a promise to them.

I can see the ending being hit or miss with a lot of fans, but for me it was a miss. We spent a lot of the film with Holland's Peter noting how he needs MJ and Ned for support and kinda proving that he can't do this all alone, only for him to break his promise and try and do this alone. Almost an attempt to combine Raimi and Webb's Spider-Man 1 endings into one, even though Raimi's was earned because Peter was just starting out and Webb's was criticized for quickly deciding to break a dead man's promise, it was kind of a letdown after such an exciting climax we finish with Peter friendless, auntless, no academic career (since nobody will be able to verify that he even went to high school), jobless, without the tech he inherited from the last 2 movies, and without any backup his contributions in the MCU could offer him...but at least he has a new suit?

Spider-Man is still a public enemy in a lot of people's opinion too, the Mysterio stuff still doesn't just up and go away. In terms of progressing the Spider-Man character in the MCU, a lot of it is a step back, Peter is somehow worse off at the end of this film than he was at the start. While it's not awful, it's deflating to end this way for such an anticipated movie.

This, tampers things though right? While it was nice to see the Peters seek to help their enemies, you do have to wonder about the repercussions. With the Goblin gone, Norman will return to his time and likely not die, which will mean Harry won't take over Oscorp and fund Octavius, but since Octavius has to go back too, we'll now have three Raimiverse timelines: untampered, good Norman, and good Octavius (which'd be the same as untampered since Octavius would return to the machine and still have to drown himself), this is the same with Electro being depowered: this'll likely prevent their Goblin from figuring out about Peter and thus Gwen won't die. After going through Endgame and then Loki talking about how you don't mess with the timeline, we seem to continue messing with the timeline.

A TRAILER IS NOT A POST-CREDITS SCENE I'd have rather been told that it was a mid-credits scene and a trailer for a future movie, rather than wait for the credits to roll - desperately needing the bathroom - just to see a trailer of Dr. Strange 2 which will likely be released in a few weeks anyway. Would not want more of that please.

PS: Where's Bruce Campbell? More of a joke criticism, but it was a shame that Campbell had cameos in the full Raimi trilogy - intending for him to be the Raimiverse Mysterio - but didn't sneak in a cameo for this crossover, it probably would've completed it.

What was great about the film

It could be easy to say 'the rest of it' because between Norman being at FEAST all the way to the retconning the film was great. So let's try to break down the specifics of what was great about it.

Hello Charlie The film is full of worst kept secrets, but seeing Charlie Cox's Matt Murdock was still fun to see. Canonizing Daredevil in the MCU once more, I can't be upset that Cox nor Vincent will reprise their roles as the Red-Eyes Blind Devil and the Big Bad Fisk Man in the future. It still gives me hope to see Agents of Shield, Jessica Jones and others will return to canon too, if only a small hope...Quake could certainly work for SWORD with Monica, Carol and the Skrulls right?

Come for the Money, Stay for the Thrill Alfred Molina is iconic as Dr Octopus, and as the first enemy Holland's Peter encounters he definitely makes an impact. Although, angrier and erratic, he still maintained his character and as I predicted earlier proved an asset to the Peters at the end by catching Electro off-guard. While Molina jokes this is a cash-grab role, he makes his minutes worthwhile, only being outdone in the villain department by one other.

Peter vs Strange is visually great There was a lot of fun with the very disgruntled Dr Strange being annoyed by Peter's relentlessness and quick-thinking (conscious or unconscious). Bringing out the reality-bending effects from Doctor Strange made for an entertaining action scene, ending with Peter outwitting Strange with his own unique intelligence and then fanboying over it as he wins the villains' trust. The fight aside too, Peter proving to Strange that people are worth saving even if they're bad was a nice little arc, even if Strange won't remember Peter doing it, this will hopefully bleed into Multiverse of Madness with Wanda and Mordo, but it serves to also show that heroes each have different ideals and priorities which make them stand out without showing off their powers.

Electro is salvaged Jamie Foxx had a bad hand with Amazing Spider-Man 2; blue and poor motivations, Foxx was allowed to portray a more realistic-looking version of Electro while also making his character a little cooler. Don't get me wrong, him getting a power boner was a bit limp, but they salvage it in the end by noting that Max for the most part just wanted to feel like he was important, and thus once again rescuing an iconic villain from the depths.

Ned is magic! While an initial gag, seeing Ned use the sling ring is definitely something I feel we should explore, it became helpful in summoning the Peters and helping him and MJ escape the Lizard. It was a fun little addition which added a new flair to the MCU Spidey friend-trio, Strange did acknowledge his ability to - on a whim remember - do what Strange himself struggled to do after several attempts, the story owes it to Ned to look deeper into this.

Dafoe - unsurprisingly - is amazing I said only one person outshines Molina in the villain department and it is the definitive Spider-Man Villain. If it wasn't clear: Willem Dafoe is a tremendous actor, and his Jekyll & Hyde persona in Spider-Man is excellent and it's on full show in this movie, luring the audience with more sympathy as a broken Norman while doubling down on the evil as the Goblin. His physical, almost pro-wrestler esque brawling with Peter was equal parts scrappy as it was visceral, they make no sugarcoat that Norman is an old man smacking around a teenager, but there's also method in his madness: sneaking goblin bombs that kill Aunt May (part of me hoped he manipulated the original serum to be full Goblin when May injected him) and threaten to break the multiverse. Dafoe's Goblin ended up being the perfect big bad, even if he is 'cured' at the end to repent.

The film knows when to laugh at itself While some of the comedy doesn't land, Electro does try a bit too hard to crack a joke every time, the film was good with poking fun at its own mythos. Electro and Sandman talking about their similar origins, the Peters, Ned promising not to turn evil, Lizard being able to talk, even Otto's name, it did help alleviate the tension and make the fanservice a bit more organic, so it was appreciated the attention put into the jokes, even if some were just direct winks to the camera. Even the mid-credits scene with Hardy's Eddie Brock (and Venom) getting drunk and trying to make sense of the Avengers and Thanos was a nice bit of fun.

Marvel's Worst Kept Secret It feels like it was almost willed into existence by the fandom, but finally we got it: and it was great. Tobey, Andrew and Tom, individually they were a lot of fun in the film, maintaining their own personal charms while also keeping the spirit of Peter Parker intact. I could easily watch the three Spiders just chatting about their experiences for hours, from them freaking out over Tobey's organic webbing, encouraging Andrew's feelings of inferiority, to grasping the concept of the Avengers and still supporting one another in an awkward nerdy manner. The three Spiders delivered together, with their respective villains, and with the other MCU characters such as Ned and MJ, because for this movie to work it absolutely needed to.

Development, Redemption, Closure It would've been very easy to just have gratuitous cameos of Tobey and Andrew to further Tom's story, but each of the Peters got to progress in the story and the previous Spiders got to close their chapter much more neatly than their abrupt franchise endings. After consoling Tom over May's death by sharing their own experiences with their Uncle Bens' deaths, we got to learn that Tobey did indeed make it work with MJ, finding balance between Peter and Spider-Man - which is good enough given how well-rounded Tobey was thanks to having 3 movies rather than 2. It's Andrew who gets the full 'redemption' and closure by successfully saving MJ, a fulfilling and relieving moment for the character which feels earned, Garfield really shows how much it means to him to save someone, but layer it with regret that he couldn't do it with Gwen. Garfield's actions give him closure and allow his character to start opening his Peter side up - just as Tom starts closing off his Peter side when memory of him is removed - which makes it more than just glorified cameos for the Spiders.

Also J Jonah Jameson develops, not in a good way but when he outs Peter you can see that he's in a basement studio with a green screen, and at the end he's now got a full crew and LED board. Unlike Flash's profiteering, it made sense how Jameson would profit from his anti-spiderman propaganda, given how we know this is his character, and he did in fact prove to be a platform and a thorn in the side for Peter when it came to public opinion.

Conclusion

As I said, it's not the greatest Spider-Man movie, but it is definitely a great movie. All the major cast put on a great performance, and while it started slow and ended a bit sadly, it was definitely an experience.

It is worth reminding that there was extremely high expectations for this movie too, everyone wanted the three Spiders, Sinister Six, Daredevil, Strange and the Multiverse, and they got it! Just because expectations were met rather than exceeded should not dissuade you from watching the film with pessimism. This is still a very strong 8.5/10 for me, and with all the Spider-Man media we've been feasting on these last few years with still Across the Spider-Verse and the game sequel still to come, it is still a great time to be a Spider-Man fan.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Strange Creatures Brothers Be (aka WWX & NMJ sworn brothers) - part 1, part 2, part 3

“Not in a million years,” Wei Wuxian said flatly. “We could all reincarnate a thousand times over, and the answer will still be no.”

Lan Xichen seemed surprised by his refusal, or perhaps merely the vehemence of it. “Is there a reason you won’t consider it, Wei-gongzi? As you know, sworn brotherhood has many advantages for both sides –”

“No. You wanted to ask me: I answered. No.”

“It’s bad luck to have a brotherhood of four,” Nie Mingjue opined, offering up a face-saving reason when it was clear to anyone who had eyes that Wei Wuxian wasn’t the sort of person to be deterred by superstition, especially superstition around death and dying. He would be a very poor demonic cultivator if he were. “Besides, Xichen, even if we aren’t sworn brothers, we are friends who went through life and death together – that’s a bond in itself, a well-respected one.”

Friends of life and death was, in fact, a well-recognized bond between men. It just wasn’t as good as being sworn brothers.

Take that, Meng Yao.

…in reflection, Wei Wuxian will admit that his motives to reject Lan Xichen’s proposal were, perhaps, somewhat petty.

Lan Xichen clearly wanted to establish a close tie between them, to balance his old friendship with Nie Mingjue with his new closeness with Meng Yao, to help Nie Mingjue repair his relationship with his old deputy. Just as clearly, Nie Mingjue was halfway seduced by Lan Xichen’s arguments that being sworn brothers would give him the ability to act as a guide and check to Meng Yao, to help him the way he had previously (and still) helped Wei Wuxian.

And Meng Yao –

Meng Yao probably just wanted to leverage it for his own personal promotion, the rotten snake. Scheming fox.

Dog.

Wei Wuxian was aware that his hatred for the other man might be a little irrational.

After all, Meng Yao had explained, and oh so very earnestly, too, how he had had no choice but to take certain actions necessary to lead to Wen Ruohan’s demise: the bodies of the Nie cultivators he’d killed, the cruel words and vicious strikes he’d subjected Nie Mingjue to, even citing as necessary that Wen Ruohan be distracted by the joy of Nie Mingjue’s capture, which obviously he’d arranged himself by sending false information through Lan Xichen.

Three days and nights of torture, Wei Wuxian growled in his heart, no matter that Nie Mingjue was already shrugging it off – he really would do anything if it helped the war, and while that may have benefited Wei Wuxian once before, such blatant disregard for his own well-being was no longer acceptable now that they were sworn brothers themselves. Mark your words, da-ge; if you want me to care for myself, you’d better do the same!

And of course Lan Xichen took the dog’s side, arguing that he knew Meng Yao, that Nie Mingjue knew Meng Yao, that his motives were just even if the actions were questionable –

“What about his actions in Langya?” Nie Mingjue had shouted when Lan Xichen had first raised the idea to him. Wei Wuxian had overheard him from the next room over, still in bed and recovering the way Nie Mingjue should have been doing - but Wei Wuxian wasn’t a sect leader, with all the obligations and duties that came with it; Nie Mingjue had had to drag himself out of bed far too early to deal with it all, and now he had to deal with this, too. “The premeditated murder of his own superior…!”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t heard Lan Xichen’s defense to that, too low to be listened in on, but whatever he’d said, it had been convincing enough to get through Nie Mingjue’s defenses, to wiggle in through the cracks created by old affection –

That was the worst of it, in Wei Wuxian’s opinion.

Nie Mingjue liked Meng Yao.

He had liked him very much once, and still did: Wei Wuxian was painfully aware of that, even though Nie Mingjue had never talked to him about it. It had been obvious even before from the way Nie Mingjue had continued to search for him, clearly hoping to find him safe even as he claimed he wanted to kill him or break his legs, and it was even more obvious now, when the newly dubbed Lianfeng-zun was trying very hard to get back into his good graces.

The chance to help someone he had once cared for, someone he believed needed the help desperately, someone who had wandered off the road of righteousness but could still come back if only someone held out a hand in trust…yes, that was the right way to appeal to someone like Nie Mingjue.

Pity there was a roadblock there, name of Wei Wuxian.

Sometimes Wei Wuxian wondered if his hatred of Meng Yao was truly justified, the way he thought it was. Was the man truly as vile and conniving as he thought? Or was he just drinking vinegar, filled to the brim with petty jealousy that his adored big brother liked someone else too? Spying meant doing things you didn’t like, after all, and the reasons were so seductively convincing…

But Wei Wuxian was petty where Nie Mingjue was not: even if the motive for his refusal was just jealousy, the answer was still no.

It was a good thing that Nie Mingjue was a good brother to those he already had first, willing to help others second: even though he’d been clearly tempted by Lan Xichen’s forthright words and Meng Yao’s slippery arguments, he insisted on consulting Wei Wuxian for his views, since he would be at minimum affected if not explicitly involved.

Wei Wuxian had never once doubted that when he refused, Nie Mingjue would back him entirely.

“Four isn’t always a bad number,” Meng Yao said, and his voice was as pleasant as a rippling brook, his entire demeanor friendly and harmless, as if he only think he wanted or could ever want was to be of service. “After all, with the four of us bound together, we would have a representative from each of the sects: Nie, Lan, Jiang, and Jin.”

“Jin? Has your father accepted you, then?” Lan Xichen asked, attention distracted, and he smiled broadly when Meng Yao inclined his head with a shy smile that Wei Wuxian desperately wanted to punch off his face. “A-Yao! That’s wonderful!”

“There will be a formal ceremony later this week, to which you are all invited,” Meng Yao said. “But he has already recognized me before his attendants, and has even given me the name ‘Jin Guangyao’.”

“Great name,” Wei Wuxian said. “So thoughtful of him to make you part of the older generation, rather than the inheriting one.”

Nie Mingjue somehow managed to make stamping on Wei Wuxian’s foot look as if he were merely shifting his weight from one side to the other. “Congratulations,” he said, and even managed to sound mostly sincere. “I wish you much happiness for having obtained the result you have been striving for.”

Mostly sincere.

Lan Xichen looked a little disappointed in them both.

(It wasn’t nearly as effective as Lan Wangji’s disappointed look, though, so Wei Wuxian considered himself immune.)

“Sadly, we’ve already promised Jiang Cheng that we’d go with him to the Lotus Pier for the second half of the week,” Wei Wuxian said, lying through his teeth with a smile. “With the Nightless City having finally fallen, I need to go light incense for Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu, and I invited da-ge. I need to introduce him, after all.”

There was a flicker of irritation on Meng Yao’s face, quickly suppressed. He was going to say something, probably a suggestion of rescheduling since the dead wouldn’t mind but phrased in a nice pretty neat way that would almost not sound like an insult to Wei Wuxian’s intelligence, when Nie Mingjue nodded.

“And after the Lotus Pier, we must return to the Unclean Realm,” he said. “For much the same purpose. Those who died at Wen Ruohan’s hand or by his order deserve to know that their deaths have been avenged.”

Whatever argument Meng Yao might have been able to muster died at once; Wei Wuixan gleefully hoped he would choke on it. He didn’t even mind the fact that he was now (apparently) committed to going to the Unclean Realm – if anything, that was a good thing, since it’d get him away from the work of rebuilding the Jiang sect.

Something he still hadn’t found a good excuse to avoid.

“I will of course write a letter to Sect Leader Jin congratulating you both on the event,” Nie Mingjue continued, because he was a better person than Wei Wuxian and far too kindly disposed towards Meng Yao. “It will formally recognize you as being my friend of life and death – you can have it read aloud, if that would help.”

If even Nie Mingjue could figure out that their presence was being requested to bolster Meng Yao’s political standing, Meng Yao had clearly been too obvious – he immediately demurred, insisting that he had only wanted to share the joy of the day with them, and only Lan Xichen pretended to believe him.

Maybe he did. More fool he, if so.

After they left, Nie Mingjue turned and leveled Wei Wuxian with a look.

Wei Wuxian grinned shamelessly back. “Next time, ask before announcing changes to your schedule?”

Nie Mingjue looked as though he was on the verge of rolling his eyes. “You’re my sworn brother; if you need me to lie for you, I will do so without requiring explanation,” he said dismissively, as if it was nothing, as if it was obvious, and that was why Wei Wuxian had used the Stygian Tiger Seal for this man. “What I want to know is – why do you dislike Meng Yao?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Why are you asking me? You don’t like him, either.”

“I mistrust him,” Nie Mingjue corrected him. “I believe he’s gone down the wrong path – that he’s still focused on glory instead of righteousness, on what people can do for him rather than what he can do for them. Moreover, I’m concerned that the Jin sect will only aggravate those tendencies, and I hope to see him return instead to the man I know he can be. You, on the other hand, actively dislike him. Why?”

There were plenty of reasons, most of them childish – Wei Wuxian would rather die than say it was because Nie Mingjue liked him so much, he felt like Jiang Cheng just thinking it – but the first one, the foremost one, was simple.

“He shouldn’t have said what he said to you,” Wei Wuxian said. “In the Sun Palace. You shared your weakness with him, and he used it against you – it doesn’t matter if it was to keep up his identity or not, he shouldn’t have done it.”

Personally, Wei Wuxian suspected the answer was not. Even before he’d known who Meng Yao was and what he’d done before, he’d heard – as Nie Mingjue, injured, blinded by blood and deafened by pain, had not – the shades of real pleasure in Meng Yao’s voice as he’d mocked Nie Mingjue.

When later, he found that Meng Yao had castigated Nie Mingjue for not understanding him, portraying his lust for glory and power as if it were something virtuous, when he’d heard the full story of Langya, he’d become certain of his conclusion: Meng Yao might have needed to say such cruel things in order to keep his cover, but he’d enjoyed doing it, too.

He’d liked seeing Nie Mingjue at his feet.

Wei Wuxian would never trust someone like that. Not ever, even if Nie Mingjue eventually did.

Nie Mingjue’s harsh features relaxed a little, something almost like a smile curling his lips. “You remember I’m the older brother, right? You don’t need to be offended in my defense.”

Wei Wuxian sniffed and turned his head away, suddenly (belatedly) sympathetic to Jiang Cheng for all the times he’d made a similar argument: that he was older, that he was born a servant, that he wasn’t as important in the great scheme of things…

No wonder it had always sent Jiang Cheng straight into a fury every time without fail. It was, in fact, incredibly irritating to be told that you could only ever be the protected one, never the protector.

“Well, as you know, I’m not very orthodox,” he said lightly. “You’ll just have to put up with it, I’m afraid.”

Nie Mingjue huffed, clearly amused. “Very well. Now that you’ve implicated me, go tell Jiang Cheng about the invitation you issued on his behalf before someone catches you out on your lie.”

Wei Wuxian grinned and sauntered off – Jiang Cheng would be among those helping purify the Nightless City of all the fierce corpses there, same as always.

They’d finally gotten it to the point that it no longer felt like fighting an uncontrollable forest fire and more like a normal night-hunt. Jiang Cheng had volunteered for practically every shift that was available, using it as informal training for his new disciples, and he went up there with them more often than not.

He hadn’t yet asked Wei Wuxian to join him, though it was only a matter of time – Suibian had been rather pointedly left on Wei Wuxian’s bedside, and it was only the fact that he’d been injured in the attack on the Nightless City that had served as an excuse. An excuse that wouldn’t last much longer.

That was a later problem, though.

“Lighting incense to let them know we’ve avenged them?” Jiang Cheng said when Wei Wuxian informed him of the plan. “Yes, that’s a good idea. We should bring jiejie, too; she hasn’t had an opportunity to go back to the Lotus Pier at all since – since before, anyway. I’ll go pick her up from the Jin camp, if you’ll stay and organize the training shifts for the next few rounds of night-hunting…will you and Sect Leader Nie meet us there when you’re done here?”

Arranging shifts was little more than paperwork. Wei Wuxian could do that, and Nie Mingjue would certainly assist with anything else that might need to be done, if it came to that.

It was good to have a big brother.

“Sounds good to me,” he said with a grin. “Tell shijie I’m looking forward to seeing her.”

“More like eating her soup, you pig,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “Tell Sect Leader Nie that he’s in for a treat…you’ll be going to Qinghe after, you said? For how long?”

“Da-ge didn’t say,” Wei Wuxian said, temporizing. It was a really good excuse to get out of the Lotus Pier, actually. “And we’re going to be friends of life and death with Sect Leader Lan and that dog Meng Yao, though now he’s going to start going by Jin Guangyao; we may need to visit them, too, to solidify it. Though hopefully not.”

Hopefully yes.

“Well, don’t be away too long,” Jiang Cheng said. “I need your help back home. Besides, the Jins have already started talking about setting up some sort of celebration – a hunt at Phoenix Mountain, I think. You have to join us there.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” Wei Wuxian said. A hunt at Phoenix Mountain – he’d wager Meng Yao would be involved in setting it up, and it’d be a shame to miss that. Besides, it’d be a good opportunity to see some of the people he hadn’t seen in a while, like Lan Wangji.

He wondered if Lan Wangji would be happier now that Wei Wuxian, who’d been scared straight by his close encounter with disaster at the Nightless City, had started practicing some of the Nie sect techniques designed to help temper resentful energy in their saber spirits.

It helped. He hoped Lan Wangji would find comfort in that – maybe even be proud of him.

“I’ll definitely be there.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #strange creatures brothers be

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

Note

Is it true that Kishimoto said he liked shounen ai? Or that he considered Naruto ending up with Sasuke? But studio was against it? I didn't see any source.

Or that Kishimoto wanted them to hold hands at the end of vote 2 but the editors rejected it, so he blew off their arms instead?

There are so many rumours.

Hello Anon😊😊

I heard about all of this you have mentioned here and I can't find a valid proof for any of them.

Or that Kishimoto wanted them to hold hands at the end of vote 2 but the editors rejected it, so he blew off their arms instead?

However, the following link is the translation of the interview which answers your second part of the question, and many more (like why he killed neji, why he made hinata as a heroine, decision on Edo tensei, etc).

LINK

Apparently, Kishi wanted to do the Unison Sign between them but then they can't do it because their hands were blown off. So he made Hashirama's and Madara's statue to do it. He decided to do that panel from Part 1 itself. So, I think he always wanted to blow their arms off I guess.

My observations seems to align with this interview in many aspects. So, It was a good read.

Anyway, I don't want to go around and base my arguments based on Kishi's interviews alone. Every actor and actresses promotes their movie and say many things in an interview. But audience evaluate them only through their works. Not by interviews. Same with Kishi's case too.

Is it true that Kishimoto said he liked shounen ai? Or that he considered Naruto ending up with Sasuke? But studio was against it? I didn't see any source.

As for the 'shounen-ai' or 'boy's love' part, I never found any trustworthy sources that claims Kishimoto said that he wanted to do shounen-ai. So, probably that’s just rumour.

But

If you ask me, objectively, how I feel about Kishi's works and is there any relevance to shounen-ai?

I would instantly say, 'Hell, Yes !!!!!!!!!'.

Anytime he designs a poster featuring Naruto and Sasuke, Kishi just painted blatant 'sensual vibes' in some of them which screams 'shounen-ai' to me. Their looks are designed in a suggestive manner which makes us think 'Are they just friends?'

I believe, Kishimoto clearly knew this is a shounen manga. So, he knew his limitations and never hoped them to end up together kissing and marrying.

But, it’s an undeniable fact that he introduced and rubbed off lots of shounen-ai elements deliberately into the manga, OVA and promo posters.

I think Kishi is a closet bisexual, just like Naruto, who had a gay crush on someone. So, he decided to make Sasuke as a hero whose characteristics resembles a typical shounen-ai Love Interest.

#ask #naruto #naruto analysis #sasuke #sasunaru

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caiuscassiuss · 4 years

Text

Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.1

Description: There was something that lurked beneath that pretty boy smile of Dong Sicheng— something dark, something dangerous… something you knew you would get pulled into once you got too curious. (Or, your ill-tempered coworker turns out to be your dominant.)

Sicheng♡Female! Reader

Genre: BDSM/ enemies to lovers winwin! smut | romance | angst WC: 11k+ Warnings: graphic smut (dom! sicheng + sub! reader, BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, and Masochism) paddling, fellatio, fingering), taboo relationship, blatant sexism, TW: mentions of an abusive relationship

(A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @won-markiepooh-woo for helping me. This story wouldn’t have been possible without you!!!!

Also, this story contains heavy and graphic BDSM with violent contact play and uncomfortable dialogue. You might not like Sicheng very much here. 18+ please.)

Red, red light highlighted the contours of the woman’s back, and threw the rest of the room into dark, dark shadows.

Slap.

A long, drawn-out, strained moan resounded,.

A sinful smile crawled up the tall, slender man’s face as he looked down at her.

January 5th, 2020

Raesung, Lee

Re: Important Office Notification —

To: y/nl/[email protected], [email protected], [email protected]… view 389 more

To all whom it may concern,

It is my greatest displeasure to be announcing my resignation and consequent retirement from Sinochen Enterprises. I had been the Head of the Sales Department in this great company for over 10 years and it has been a pleasurable experience to work with all of 500 you, in order to better our enterprise.

Words cannot express how grateful I am to all of you, from the interns to my managers, for working hard and honestly over all these years. We experienced a 468% sales increase over my tenure, and it couldn’t have been possible without any of you.

My resignation will be announced tomorrow at noon, but I thought it would be better to get a heads up from myself. In the meantime, until a new successor is appointed, my vice president, Xiao Daiyu, will step in and act in my place. A new email regarding possible successors will soon circulate shortly, and I advise all of you to keep an eye out for it.

Once again, I thank all of you deeply for these wonderful 10 years at Sinochen Enterprises, and I wish the utmost success for this company and all of you individually.

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

On one side of the island, a woman finished reading her work email. She remained calm, scrolled through her other emails, and shut down her laptop after seeing no such material.

She faced her high rise window, contemplating the Hong Kong skyline.

The email was written in the usual arrogant tone that her Korean boss took. Not a surprise, seeing as she worked with him nearly every day as the South Asia Region Sales Manager. She sighed, kicking up her feet on the coffee table.

A new successor? Y/N L/N hoped and prayed that it would be her.

On the other side of the island, a man finished reading his work email. He remained calm, scrolled through his other emails, and shut down his laptop after seeing no such material.

He faced his high rise window, contemplating the Hong Kong skyline.

Of course, the man was anticipating this as his East Asia Regional Sales Manager. The old coot was due for his retirement, so he could spend time with his many mistresses. He sighed and kicked up his feet on the coffee table.

A new successor? Dong Sicheng knew it like the sky was blue that it would be him.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

It was a rather chilly morning, as your assistant knocked softly on the oak door. You finished putting your light coat on the stand. As you hummed for her to come in, she slowly creaked open the door.

She smiled brightly at you. Genuine, to boot. “Morning, Miss L/N. Do you want any pastries, or breakfast goods, to go along with your usual macchiato?”

You considered BeiBei a good secretary—prompt, meticulous, and all what an assistant should be. Sociable, too. However, even with all her amiable requests for lunch or coffee, you couldn’t consider her as a good friend. After all, there was to be a balance of power to be maintained.

“Yes, that would be great.”

Like everything else in your life.

Work went on as usual in the office—you dealt with the clients, you dealt with HR, you dealt with this and that.

BeiBei knocked softly at the door. She peeked in through the door with her sunglasses perched atop her brunette locks and a scarf around her neck.

“Miss L/N? They asked all of the sales department to meet in Ballroom D for an announcement.”

It was noon already? Christ. “Alright, let me get my things and I’ll go along with you.”

You grabbed your cell phone and Dior sunglasses, then quickly headed out with BeiBei. You lagged behind her slightly as she socialized with her other coworkers, laughing uproariously at some inside joke between them.

You wondered what it was like to be able to make real bonds in the office.

Out of your periphery, a large group coming from the other side of the floor was bustling their way through. In the midst, you could see the blonde head of Dong Sicheng, looking down at his friends as if they were his royal subjects.

Psh, you could never see what was the fuss around this boy. To be fair, objectively, he was good-looking... in that pretty boy kind of way. All of his older, middle-aged coworkers looked like pigs next to his lean, pale figure. Yet, all of the sales department, and probably half of the office, thought he was the next best thing since the vibrator.

You thought he seemed too nice, too friendly to be true. Sicheng had the innocent flower boy looks, but you could see the dark edge he kept from everyone. You could see how his smiles never reached his eyes, how his words were always friendly but strained. Dong Sicheng was disingenuous as hell, and it bothered you, but why waste energy over such a matter?

You’d rather focus on other, more productive things.

Namely, the Sales Head promotion.

Your South Asia and his East Asia division converged in the middle of the lobby, forming an even more boisterous crowd. Everyone slowly piled into the elevators to go down.

You were reaching the chokehold of the crowd, but unfortunately you were a bit on the shorter side. It was hard to see where you were going in this crowd, and you wouldn’t dare raise yourself up on your tippy toes, like some fresh intern.

“Ladies first.”

You looked up to see Dong Sicheng smiling at you brightly—his arm extended to herd you into the crowded elevator. You couldn’t help but see a mocking tinge to the curl of his lips.

“Thank you,” you said.

After you had stepped into the elevator, he followed immediately afterwards. You had no choice but to be eye level with Sicheng’s chest. You two were so close that you could smell his cologne, and it briefly think of his cologne all around you—

No. Never. No. No. No. No. No. Nope.

Dong Sicheng would not tempt you.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

9 AM HKT

The department filed out of the ballroom, murmuring amongst themselves about the new development.

“Oh my god, we all know Xiao Daiyu will never be promoted. Yeah, she may be vice president, but Daiyu can’t do shit.”

“Well, who do you think will be promoted?”

“Certainly not you, Lina.”

“Hey, I—”

A new voice enters. “I, for one, think Y/N should be promoted. She’s smart, driven, and you actually get things done when you work with her.”

A hum of agreement went over the little group. Some of them nodded along quietly.

“That’s not a bad idea. She’s cold as hell and kind of intimidating, but I wouldn’t mind working under her.”

You pretended not to hear their conversation, but you felt ecstatic to hear your name in regards to the promotion. It was hard to admit it to anyone other than yourself, but you thrived off of attention and vindication more than what was healthy. The satisfaction of being praised, of getting the answer correct or being complimented was as heady as being drugged.

“Y/N is great and all, but you know who’d I rather have as sales head? Dong Sicheng.”

Your jaw clenched unconciously when you heard that blond asshole’s name.

“Kinda agree. Sicheng’s friendly and it’s easy to talk to him. We also get a lot of work done with him too!”

You could not hear any more of the conversation as they had walked out of earshot, but you felt… sour. You swore to god—if that asshole gets the promotion, you will leave the damn company.

Well, whatever. The likes of Dong Sicheng would be wiped from your mind after the fun you would have tonight with Dolos.

January 6th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

12 PM HKT

“Hey Sicheng, what did you order?” Some coworker of his said to him.

Sicheng felt an inward flush of irritation. Couldn’t people leave him the fuck alone and let him eat his meal in peace? Without interrupting him about how XX from the implementation team did this and YY from IT did that?

“Oh, hey, um—” What the fuck was his name again? Joon? Jin? “Jae, I ordered a teriyaki salad. It’s pretty good, I’d recommend it.”

There. That answered any potential questions Jae may have and clearly signalled the end of the conversation so he could eat in peace.

“What about the grilled chicken salad? Have you tried it?”

Alas, not all well-thought out plans would be fruitful.

He continued conversation with his inane coworkers around him at the lunch bistro they always frequented. It was tiring, keeping up the facade of a friendly office boy. His impatience wilted slowly as the people tittered and tattered, laughing and gossiping, god—they were so stupid.

“I like your tie, Sicheng. It’s very nice.”

He turned back towards the conversation as soon as he heard his name.

The so-called department hottie was staring at him from her seat a couch away—her eyes slightly widened, in an attempt to be vexing.

“Thank you, Tzuyu. Might I add, you look very nice today,” he said, as he forced a smile on his lips.

The brunette blushed heavily and turned away in bashfulness. Ugh.

Don’t get him wrong.He rather liked blush on a woman. But, Tzuyu was the kind of woman that would not put up any type of fight, if he chose to seduce her. Sicheng liked the thrill of the fight, the thrill of gradually pressing his control into someone until they were submissive to only him.

God, but Y/N was someone he’d like seduce.

Sicheng thought back to the moment when he courteously gave his spot in line to her, yet she only thanked him off-handedly. Y/N was the only one in the whole damn complex that didn’t give a fuck about his amiable facade and treated him as callously as one would beneath them. He clenched his fist, thinking how uppity and standoffish you were to snub him. That was something that couldn’t ever be forgotten.

Luckily, he knew his darling Dove would be there tonight to take the edge off his anger.

Friday January 18th, 2020

A Busy Street

6 PM HKT

You huddled a light coat around yourself as you checked the address on your phone.

353 Cornerstone Ave.

You looked up at the British colonial-style building, slightly reminiscent of the Ritz-Carlton a few blocks away. The building was probably a remnant of colonization. Nevertheless, it was beautiful.

Your heels clicked against the marble floor, as you dipped into the establishment named Black’s Spa. Swiping off your sunglasses, you beamed at the beautiful lady behind the receptionist desk.

“How may we help you today? Are there any services you would like provided?” she asked.

The corners of your lips turn up. You’ve always liked this part of the game, where you have to gain access into a club. It felt like you were a femme fatale in one of those old Bond movies your father loved.

“Hey, afternoon. I’ve been hearing about this rope treatment. I’ve heard it does wonders for your muscles.”

The girl’s pink tinted-lips twisted into a grin.

“Right this way.”

The zen, stark white corridors of the spa that the dungeon pretended to be eventually led to an innocuous bookshelf. The lady felt around the shelf for the handle underneath the dark wood paneling. A hum of affirmation left her mouth as she closed her well-manicured hands around it.

With a click, the shelf gave way to a dimly lit room that looked like the parlor of a traditional British gentleman’s club. What little light there was was provided by candles and glittering chandeliers, which reflected off of the dark oak paneling of the room. Rich Persian rugs and velvet sofas dotted the room, and the hum and tinkles of conversation meandered around. However, little details quickly ruined the impression that this was a respectable establishment of any sort.

For one, many individuals here were scantily clad. Yes, some were in suits and proper evening wear, but that was contrasted heavily by the diffusion of revealing lingerie sets and sculpted chests. Second, there were casual warning signs posted about the room, asking patrons to practice safe, healthy, and consensual sex, alongside the expensive paintings.

Black’s was the best dungeon in East Asia, no doubt. It was such a bitch to gain access into the club. Yet, what made Black’s so popular was not its top amenities or the luxurious atmosphere—it was the utmost anonymity it provided.

The depravity that happened in these walls stripped even the most upright individual to their most primal, lustful states. People became lumps of flesh, starving for the next release. The eclectic mix of businessmen, trust-fund kids, and professionals hungered for the anonymity that they would be hard-pressed to find in a regular dungeon (as regular as one could get for being a BDSM dungeon, anyway).

The best way Black’s maintained privacy?

Masks.

You quickly donned your own dove gray mask, securing the silk ribbons in your hair to prevent it from falling off. Tonight, you were Dove. Tomorrow, you will be Y/N. It was easy to slip into the subspace once you donned your mask, but you couldn’t really immerse yourself into it—not until your master came to you.

A quick glance at your watch told you it was only 10 PM. Dolos had told you in his letter that he would find you at 10:10. He certainly was a curious individual—one with an obsession with symmetry and a penchant for old-fashioned tradition. For fuck’s sake, his letter was sealed by a green wax seal.

But Dolos was everything you never knew you wanted.

Deciding to amuse yourself with one of the exhibition rooms, you wandered into one that seemed crowded. A girl was strung up on stage, hands bound with chains connected to the ceiling. Her black hair hung around her face and she was as naked as the day she was born. Her voluptuous figure bared to the hungry crowd—a metal table full of paraphernalia was next to the cross.

A brutish man, clad in a wifebeater and tight jeans, walked up to the stage.

“My slave has been rather naughty,” he announced. “She had the nerve to touch herself without my permission.”

A murmur arose from the crowd, whispering and gasping and giggling heard amongst the shadows. For a slave to pleasure herself, without her master’s permission, was a serious ordeal around these parts.

The man drew a finger against the side of her breasts, causing her to shiver and a gleam of arousal to run down her leg. “Today, my dear little slave will see what happens when she doesn’t obey her master seriously.”

“Let’s start with something light. Flogging.”

A curl of delight ran through you. You loved flogging; each hit stimulated different parts of your body that ultimately brought you to the brink of an edge. A bit of heat rose in your bosom imaging Dolos, with his Cat O’ Nine Tails, flogging your ass until you were red.

A whimper was heard as he struck her stomach lightly with a cat o’ nine tails. He began alternating strikes against her breasts and inner thighs, as she whimpered and cried, begging for her master to touch her there.

“Oh dear, only good girls get touched in their sweet spot. What’s the magic word?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, sir! Please!”

“Better.”

A strangled scream echoed throughout the hall, as he struck her repeatedly in between the crux of her legs. After the girl was left shaking, he whipped off the juices she left on the leather strands then threw it behind him. You shifted uncomfortably, crossing your legs tightly to ignore the burst of arousal.

“Bend over!” the man on stage barked, grabbing a paddle from the table.

The slave bent over a table immediately, unwilling to risk the possibility of more punishment.

He inserted a knee between her legs and forced them wide open—her pretty cunt exposed.

You could only see a flash of his swing as his paddle connected with her backside, a thunderous smack resounding. Her gleaming arousal was almost to her knee now, and the poor dear was visibly shaking and could hardly stand.

A high-pitched whimper came out of you and you quickly bit your lips, hoping you weren’t heard. Your panties suddenly rubbed you in the wrong places and your knees knocked together, in an effort to stop the heat emanating from your core.

“I see my little girl has lost herself on her way to the Salon.”

A gasp left your mouth as you stared back into a burgundy mask, burnished with gold.

Dolos.

“M-master, but it’s only 10 PM—”

He chuckled—a dark, delicious sound—and stretched him over the chaise you had settled yourself in. Slim, tapered fingers played with the ends of your hair as his plump lips curved into a dark smirk.

“Wrong, dearest. It’s 10:15. What time did I write in the letter?”

You hung your head, playing with the ribbons on your dress. “10:10, sir.”

He tugged on your hair, forcing a whine from you. He tsked.

“Your master has been waiting patiently for 2 weeks to play with his favorite little girl. And yet, she’s late?” You knew he was teasing you, but a sliver of real anger and irritation slipped into his voice. Immediately, you felt guilty and your bottom lip trembled. You had disappointed your master.

“And what do little girls who are late get?”

“T-they get punished, sir. I’m sorry—”

His lips turned downwards until he was sneering. “An apology isn’t going to cut it, Dove. We’re going to the Salon right now.” He roughly took your wrist and pulled you out of the room. Interested eyes followed his clearly irritated and furious gestures.

“Your safe word, darling?”

“Sappho.”

“Sappho, what?”

“Sir.”

His eyes, through the holes of his mask, darkened. “God, I will never get tired of hearing you say that.” Dolos turned around.

Dolos has been your dominant for the last 5 months, and fuck, he has been the best one you have had. Your participation in a public demonstration had led to him stealing the contract from your previous Dom, who was already supremely possessive at first glance. Your eyes, he had told you, were the most expressive he had ever seen. They were the ones that had convinced him to enter into an exclusive contract.

Your eyes traced his tall stature, the broadness of his back highlighted by his nondescript white shirt. The quote from Julius Caesar came to mind. “Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world/ like a Colossus, and we petty men.” Such power, such arrogance.

The Salon was Dolos’ room of choice, since he was a legacy member of Black’s. Filled with toys hidden behind halcyon scenes of the English or French country sides and tall, imposing dressers, the room merely looked like a noble bedroom but the things that occured in it… not so much.

“Bend over my lap, sweetheart. I’m thinking… hm, 10 slaps? Double the time you made me wait. What do you think?” He mused, throwing himself into an armchair.

You settled onto his lap, lifting your skirt and exposing your pretty, pink panties beneath. A mixture of nerves and arousal made your hands tremble, but the haze and glossiness of subspace settled over you easily, like your favorite blanket.

“Whatever you deem necessary, sir.”

His chest rumbled. “Good answer, little one. Such a good slut for me, huh?” He whispered to himself, running a paddle over your bare ass.

You barely heard his acclamation of “ten it is” before the paddle delivered a stinging slap to your left cheek. You unconsciously jerked up until his arms forced you down.

“Count for me, Dove.”

“One!”

Another one, but to the flesh of your thighs.

“Two!” you bit out.

Dolos’ hit parts that surrounded your core, but never actually reached touching it. Moisture began to dampen your lacy underthing and you had to bite down on your lips to stop from grinding yourself on his thigh like a brazen whore.

After the ninth slap, he palmed your ass carefully. His fingers dipped in between the folds of your pussy and you held your breath.

“Already, so wet? Christ. Clean me up and I’ll hit you the place I know you want me to.”

Swiping your tongue over his digits, you looked back at his mask and saw the tension at the corners of his mouth.

“Good.” Without warning, he shifted aside your panties and struck the paddle against your throbbing pussy.

“TEN!” You sobbed, unable to keep from sagging into his lap.

He hushed you and ran a comforting hand over your ass, smoothing over the red marks you were sure glowed.

“What a good, good girl you are,” Dolos cooed, caressing your cheek. His thumb wiped away your errant tears and he smirked, patting it.

“On your knees.”

You scrambled out of his lap and onto the carpet, wincing as your heels met your sore ass. You looked at him, wide-eyed, for his instruction.

“Suck my cock.”

A blush spread over your face at his frank wording and your hands moved to unzip his trousers, but Dolos made a noise of disapproval.

“With your mouth only, slut.”

Your hands bunched the fabric of your dress tightly and you squeezed your thighs together.

“Yes, master.”

As you took the button in between your teeth, you used a combination of your lips and tongue to unbutton his trousers. Once opened, you slowly dragged the zipper down all while looking up at him innocently.

His length, girthy and flushed an angry red, sprung out of his trousers. Licking your lips, you looked up to him for permission.

A sly smile came across his face. “Go, darling. This is your reward.”

You took the head of his cock in between your lips and swirled your tongue over the salty precum. He groaned, a gutteral noise from his chest, and his fingers clenched the plush arm rests of the chair tightly.

Gathering some of the precum on your tongue, you released his head and ducked down to take his testes in your mouth. You licked the length of his cock, finishing off with a playful suck to the head.

An angry glint flashed in his eyes. “Stop teasing, slut. Get to it.”

Dolos clenched some of your hair at the back of your head in his fist, and the pain from the sudden action caused your eyes to water. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

Spitting on his cock, you took half of him in your throat, bobbing and hollowing your cheeks. Your master made sounds of appreciation, loosening the grip on your just a little bit.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, relaxed your throat and went farther down on his thick cock. You were no novice, but you had trouble taking him so deep—even after such a long time together. The tip of your nose touched the base of his cock and you hummed in satisfaction.

The vibrations from your throat seemed to set him off. His previously relaxed grip tightened again and he forced down on his cock until your face was smashed in his crotch.

“Mmph!” You gagged from his sudden, violent action.

“You’re such a fucking tease, fuck,” Dolos groaned, his head tilted back in pleausure.

Forcefully, he fucked your mouth without mercy. You could barely breathe, and the combination of the pain from your hair being pulled, your throat being abused, and the slick between your thighs caused tears to run down your cheeks.

“You know you like this, whore. You like gagging and choking on your master’s cock. You like being used like a little slut, don’t you?”

Unable to respond, you focused on trying to breath through your nose as he abused your mouth.

“Don’t you?! Answer me!” he shouted, pulling your head back.

More tears dripped out of your eyes at this pain, and you nodded quickly with his cock in his mouth. Dolos narrowed his eyes and forced you further on his length.

He quickly set a cadence and it felt like your mind was filled with cotton. The only sensations was the pain from your throat being stretched, his groans of satisfaction, and the throbbing in between your thighs.

“I bet you’re dripping right now. What a slut, getting off on her throat being fucked,” he sneered. His face was flushed as he neared his peak.

Your knees started to throb in pain, your joints aching at being on the ground for so long. His thrust even harder and faster into your lips, prompting a squeal.

“I’m getting close, slut,” he said between clenched teeth. You could feel the hard muscles in his thighs tensing in anticipation for his orgasm. You sucked even harder on his cock, swirling your tongue in figure eights on his length.

“FUCK!” he shouted, eyes clenched tightly. Both of his hands grasped your head and forced your head onto his cock until your nose touched the base. You gagged and prayed to breathe as warm liquid splashed down your throat. He thrusted his hips harder into your mouth, riding out his orgasm.

Dolos pulled out and left the tip of his cock on your opened mouth, tapping his length on your tongue as cum spurted out erratically as he groaned. You flinched as he slapped his cock along your cheeks for good measure. He slumped back in his chair after he rode out his orgasm, his broad chest breathing heavily. In the low light, he looked like a fallen angel with his head turned up towards the heavens.

I will show you how us mere mortals can reach the gardens of heaven from earth, he had said to you once.

You waited with your mouth open, still painted in his seed, for instruction. A few drops of his seed dripped on your chin and onto your chest.

Dolos took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your head side to side. He paid attention in particular to your smeared lipstick. A beatific smile crossed his lips and he was so beautiful in that moment, so wicked and debauched and depraved it made your heart ache.

“What a gorgeous mess I’ve made.”

Tuesday January 21st, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

8 AM HKT

Raesung, Lee

CC: [email protected]

Re: Important Office Notification —

To: y/nl/[email protected]

Y/LN,

It is with great pleasure for me to inform you today that you are being considered for the Head Salesforce position at Sinochen Enterprises. Your name has come heavily recommended to me, and your previous boss has given me a glowing review of your performance these past few years. I, myself, have enjoyed your hard-work and impressive work ethic in your year as Head of the South Asia Division. Two other people are being considered for the role, and you will hear more from Daiyu and I about several interviews and necessary materials. I know you will practice the utmost discretion regarding this email.

Regards,

Raesung Lee

Department Head of Salesforce at Sinochen Enterprises

Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

Office 1876, 18th floor

Phone: +852 XXXX XXXX ext. 1876

You squealed but quickly clamped a hand over your math. This was it. This was the culmination of your dreams coming true. Being the Salesforce director for one of the largest companies in Asia… shit. That would prove your mom and everyone in that shitty-ass town of yours wrong.

After quickly shutting the door and the windows, you did an undignified jig around your large office filled with fist pumps and silent screaming.

“Y/N-laoban, I have the files for—”

You froze.

“...For… uh… you know what, I’ll just come back later—”

“No, it’s fine, BeiBei.” You cleared your throat and sat back into the chair. “I just had exciting news, that’s all. Come, please hand me those files.”

Beibei quickly handed them to you and moved to scurry out of the room and back to her desk.

“Wait! Beibei, could you grab me an Iced Americano? I feel like I need a treat today.”

Her young face peered at you curiously and nodded furiously.

“I-If it isn’t too much to ask, laoban, what’s the good news?”

Uncharacteristically, you beamed at her. She seemed a bit frightened at the sheer excitement you were exuding, so you toned it down a bit.

“Let’s just say I might not be the Head of just South Asia any longer.”

“I hear congratulations are in order?”

You looked up from your double-screens to see the extremely pretty face of Dong Sicheng. His plump lips pulled in a sort of mocking smile.

“For what? I don’t recall getting engaged nor getting pregnant,” you retorted.

“I overheard a little birdie telling her friends that her boss might move up in the world.” Sicheng pushed off the doorway and moved to place a long-fingered hand over the back of one of the couches.

A sigh left your mouth. Oh BeiBei.

He drummed his fingers against the back of the couch. “Although, I am surprised Raesung is considering someone like you for the promotion.”

Your eyes snapped to his heavily lidded one. “Pardon?”

“You know, someone of your… type.”

“Elaborate.”

He sighed, like he was dealing with an ignorant child, and moved to lean over your desk.

“We all know when push comes to shove, no matter how icy your demeanor may be, individuals like you will eventually succumb to their emotions.” His mocking smile was an attempt at his nice-boy persona around the office— that made you want to throw your paper weight at his face.

Your jaw clenched. “I knew your family was traditional, Sicheng, but I didn’t expect they were this intransigent.”

He moved closer. “The old ways keep our heads at the right place, woman.”

A snort left your lips. “And I suppose customs guide the ignorant?”

His smile grew razor sharp. “Exactly.”

Your teeth clenched around your tongue. “Excuse me, Sicheng, but I’m afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes—not all of us are as lax as a board member's son.”

Ignoring the barb, he watched raptly as you stuck all your files into your purse calmly. As you moved to show him to the door, he stalled.

“I think you’re forgetting something, Y/N.”

“I’m afraid you have me at a loss, Sicheng. Please hurry.”

“Don’t I get salutations as well? I’m the other person being considered.” He smirked.

Thursday January 23rd, 2020

Your House

9 PM HKT

“Hi, mother. How are you?” you asked.

“Aiyo, my old bones are holding up, but you know what would make me feel more at ease?”

“What, mama?” You kicked off your heels and threw yourself into your lumpy, comfy couch. It was time for that conversation again.

“If you settled down with a nice man and gave your grandfather and I grandkids.”

“I am busy.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard you. “I know there are a lot of nice men at that company of yours. Surely there is a rich laoban that you can settle down with? You are not unhandsome, after all.”

“I am my own laoban.”

A moment of silence. “Ah, that’s good I suppose.”

“Thank you, mama,” you replied dryly.

“Aiyo, but you know men won’t like that! The good sort of men want good, obedient wives. How are you going to serve your husband and raise your kids if you are working such a busy job?”

“You say that as if I will marry or have kids.”

A loud gasp came from the other end of the line. “Y/N, you will give me a heart attack early! Husband, Y/N will kill me early!”

You heard a faint grunt and your mother subsequently scolding him.

A migraine started to form. You loved your mother as much as one daughter could, but she was very traditional in the way she looked at things. She had raised you from a young age to be an obedient, well-trained wife of a village man like her. Mother had good intentions of course, because that was all she knew. This was the best way she could prepare you for a good life.

The only reason she let you move to the city was because she thought you would find “good quality” (her words, not yours) men in the city. She only approved of you applying to Sinochen because not only did she see the name emblazoned across her noodle and food packets, she also knew very rich men worked there.

You really had thought that once you had moved to Hong Kong, everyone would be Westernized with more flexibility in their mindsets. But the higher ups in your company diminished those hopes very quickly.

Especially for country-bumpkin you.

You hadn’t known the Hong Kong dialect Mandarin, the new slang and modern mannerisms. Adding onto the fact that you were a woman, Sinochen did not treat you very kindly until you started to learn that being kind would get you nowhere.

And look at what you are now—a highly-paid business woman at one of the largest companies in Asia, living in a luxurious apartment within some of the most exclusive real estate on the island, along with all the pretty handbags and shoes you’ve always wanted. You even knew you were reasonably pretty and attractive, if the way Dolos looked at you was true. You kicked ass.

“Y/N, please visit us! Your father and I miss you terribly.”

You grimaced at the thought of your dirty and dusty hometown in the mainland. But still, you missed your father, who had supported you silently in whatever ways he could, and your mother, who loved you something deep.

“I forgot to mention! Kunhuang has been asking after you. Aiyo, what a good boy. He comes to our house once a month and gives us fruits, you know? Such a kind, kind boy.”

You smiled at the thought of Kunhuang and his childish face streaked in dirt and playing Catch the Dragon’s Tail in the woods near your village.

“Tell him I said hello, mother.”

“That boy— he owns most of the farms around us, wah—he tells us he misses you. Why couldn’t you have married him? You could've been closer to us, you know. Kunhuang and you would have made such cute grandkids—”

You sighed heavily. “I had dreams to chase, mama. I still do.”

Friday, January 24th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

Sicheng frowned at the vellum letter in his hand. His dearest Dove was unable to make it this week, citing she had work responsibilities she could not miss.

The letter crumpled in his hand.

He quickly stood up from the armchair near the cozy fireplace at Black’s, dodging various couples or individuals that attempted to coax him into joining them for the night. There was no need for him to be there tonight.

What a pitiful mess he was—over a woman, nonetheless.

When he had first received a recommendation from his uncle to join Black’s, he was ecstatic. Sicheng knew of the rich history and tradition of the club. It was a holdover from colonial times, when bored British aristocrats created a gentleman’s club that quickly turned into a pseudo-bordello as the 19th century chugged on. Legacy and tradition were paramount to the club.

His father was too fastidious to enter Black’s, even though his own father was a frequent patron of the club. For all his faults, he was a loyal man to his wife. Sicheng, on the other hand, was a randy twenty years old looking to unleash his private fantasies onto the prestigious dungeon.

The mask and name he wore were given to him by his Uncle, who retired from the club as Sicheng entered. Dolos was the other side of his personality that Sicheng hid from the rest of the world.

But never had Dolos been so enraptured by his contracted submissive, Dove.

Dove was… perfect. While other women just laid there and received his attention like a rag doll, she responded in kind. Whether it was an adorable gasp from her lips or precious, minute twitches, Dolos never had a problem ascertaining what Dove was feeling. She was also such a good girl for him, as well.

So, so good. Incomparable.

No other woman would do it for him. Well...

Sicheng slammed open the door a bit more forcefully than he had intended. Fuck, not her. Anyone but that prissy bitch. Roughly bidding goodbye to the receptionist of the so-called spa, Sicheng quickly slid into the passenger seat of his Maserati and zoomed off into the lights of Hong Kong.

As much as he’d like to put her in her place, Y/N would never do it for him.

Monday January 27th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

10 AM HKT

Your ears perked up to hear the sound of muffled yelling outside your office. Quickly standing, you peeked your head out the doorway to see Sicheng fitfully waving a crumpled paper in his fist at two employees, towering over them with his mouth pulled into a sneer.

“—I do NOT pay your salaries for you to laze around and produce substandard work! If my secretary had not caught this mistake within the analysis, I would’ve been fucking HUMILIATED at the board meeting for faulty figures! My ass would’ve been on the line—”

Glancing over, you saw the other girls in the office whispering behind their hands with shocked eyes. In any other situation, you would’ve done the same. Pretty boy Sicheng? Nice, kind Sicheng who dimpled at everyone each morning? It would’ve been unimaginable for that Sicheng to be putting two of his employees (Tzuyu and Xiaogui, you think, but can’t see past their bowed heads) on blast—but this one stood in the morning light, proudly and harshly, with a terrible mask of rage.

BeiBei, who was standing outside the doorway of your office and head bowed with her friend, giggled softly.

“Wah, Sicheng looks so attractive like that. He’s usually nice but, ugh, what I wouldn’t do to get him,” BeiBei pointed at the now snarling Sicheng,“—bending me over at my desk.”

Her friend squealed and fanned herself. “I may need to change my panties after this, oh my god.”

BeiBei nodded sagely. “I knew he was in a bad mood earlier, when I accidentally bumped into him in the elevator, but my god I didn’t expect for him to blow up like this.”

“I wonder what made him so mad? I remember when Jae accidentally spilled coffee over his phone and Sicheng didn’t even get angry—just smiled and patted him on the back.”

You frowned, remembering that day. While he did pat Jae on the back, Sicheng’s fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were white and the veins on his forearms stood out. There was a hidden layer behind his seemingly placid eyes, and your suspicions were confirmed after you saw the janitor taking out a broken lamp from his office late one night.

It was that incident, along with so many other tiny occurrences, that clued you into Sicheng’s secret side. You distrusted him solely on that basis. Otherwise, what kind of trustworthy man would hide something like that?

From the corner of your eye, you could tell that Sicheng looked dangerously close to punching something. You decided to intervene before HR got called. Even you had a heart, no matter how cold you were. However, you couldn’t look like you were bailing them out...

“Tzuyu! Xiaogui!” you barked, startling the gossiping women next to you.

Everyone’s heads snapped towards you, along with Sicheng.

You pursed your lips and adjusted your stance. “The Yang reports were supposed to be in my hand an hour ago. My hands are currently empty.”

Tzuyu looked close to crying, while Xiaogui shifted his eyes to the side.

“Go. Before I tell the finance department and you won’t get your full bonus for the year.”

They bowed to Sicheng, then to you, and scrambled off.

There was a moment of silence, until Sicheng had turned his angry attention towards you.

“Well? Why are all of you just standing there? We have deliverables to fulfill, people!” You scowled at the crowd, which disbursed from your shout.

Sichend had not taken his eyes off of you, not even when everyone left.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office for a moment?” he asked with his jaw clenched.

You narrowed your eyes, but acquiesced, standing by the window overlooking Kowloon Bay as he shut the door.

Sicheng paused for a moment by the doorway, his broad chest heaving. He let out a strangled breath before standing near his desk.

“You do not encroach on MY authority in this office, woman. I know the old men in other departments let you step all over them because you’re willing to put out—”

Your jaw dropped and motioned to defend yourself, but he rolled right over you.

“—but you do NOT get to do that here. Unlike the other fuckers in this office, I think with my fucking head not my dick. I handle my goddamn subordinates the way I see fit, understand?”

Your hands gripped the plush chair you stood next to.

“Where the hell do you get off talking to me like that? They’re under my supervision as well, have you fucking forgotten that? Criticize me however you want, but I draw the fucking line on attacks on my character!” you hissed, stepping closer to Sicheng.

“I talk to you however the hell I want, woman! This is my office. I’m in charge!”

Scoffing, you sat on the arm of the chair. “I know you’re sour you didn’t get the region you wanted. But that's real life, Sicheng. It must suck getting told no, daddy’s boy? Huh?”

“You shut the fuck up, Y/N. You do not get to talk to me like that,” he growled, towering over your deceptively lax figure.

You examined your nails nonchalantly. “Whatever, Sicheng. Let’s see who gets to talk when I get the promotion.”

“Ha! You wouldn’t last a fucking week in that position. No one can stand your uptight ass.”

Your placid demeanor snapped and you pushed a manicured finger into his (surprisingly) built chest.

“Fuck off, Sicheng! Some of us worked our ‘uptight’ asses off to get to where we are. You wouldn’t be shit without daddy dearest!”

“You wanna bet on that, woman?!”

Too little, too late—you didn’t notice how close the two of you were. His right arms clenched the back of the seat behind you and your noses were inches apart. If someone walked in right now, it would’ve looked like Sicheng was trying to kiss you.

You both were breathing heavily and, for the first time, you observed him from up close—his frustratingly clear skin, straight nose and slender jaw line, mouth drawn into a snarl looking like he wanted to corner you into your chair.

It was… hot.

Unwittingly, you bit your bottom lip and his intense eyes were drawn to the movement. Your legs shifted to rub together at the crux and his pants tented, while his eyes narrowed. He breathed heavily through his nose and, god, what you wouldn’t give for him to push you up against a wall and—

What the fuck!

You recoiled the same time he did, jumping away from each other like opposite poles repelling. A cold sweat formed on your back as you realized you were fucking attracted to the man that called you a whore all but in name a few moments ago.

The feral desire on his face morphed into disgust and the two of you gazed at each other in shock and revulsion.

Rushing out of his office like a bat out of hell, you slammed the door to your office shut and collapsed into your chair. Here you were, wanting to vomit in disgust but your panties were fucking soaking. You groaned and pulled at your hair. How the fuck were you supposed to last until Friday without Dolos? He would somehow fucking know you got yourself off and he would paddle you black and blue.

You dialed the private line for Black’s.

Your last resort...

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

7:55 PM HKT

Sicheng drummed his finger restlessly against the leather couch, glancing at the clock. His knee bounced in anticipation and he was unaware of the dark energy he exuded.

The man felt like he could explode right now—no thanks to Y/N in his office earlier. Sicheng couldn’t believe he was reduced to a pathetic bundle of nerves all over Y/N and her red lipstick and fuck me! Eyes.

He wanted to crack open that ice-cold facade that you hid behind. He wanted to pick apart every aspect of your being, from your veiled eyes to your restless hands and—

He rubbed a hand over his face. Fuck, not Y/N again. Where the hell was his Dove? Although, he supposed he couldn’t ask for anymore than her now. He was about to break their schedule of Friday nights only, but, by some saving grace, the manager of Black’s called to notify him of Dove’s request to meet here tonight at 8 PM.

Sicheng couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. He usually worked late, but as soon as the clock turned six, he revved his Audi to get home and shower. Now he was here, looking groomed as hell for his favorite little girl.

“Master?”

There she were—standing off to the side, wearing a simple skirt and blouse, yet looking like sex personified.

He was so relieved that he didn’t even check the clock to check if his darling girl was late.

“Sit on my lap, sweetheart. Master has missed you.”

She straddled his lap and he buried his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply. He could feel the tension melting away in his muscles as she sat in his lap.

“Are you stressed, sir?” she asked innocuously, stroking his chest.

He hummed affirmative, tracing his nose over her collarbones. “Master’s had a rough day, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out, hm?”

Dove grinned, and Sicheng could see her twinkling eyes under the grey mask. “Anything for you sir.”

Sicheng heaved her over his shoulder, a squeal to coming out of her mouth unbidden. He smirked. She was lucky he hadn’t stopped her from making noise.

As soon as he got to the room, he made her strip as he pulled down a silk tie from the ceiling. Sicheng roughly forced her hands up, exposing her breasts to the cold air. As he finished binding Dove’s wrists together, he smirked and flicked a finger over her hard peaks.

A small mewl came out of the girl’s mouth, but Sicheng heard it clear as day. A smirk crawled over his plump lips.

“What was that, little girl? You want me to use a riding crop on your ass? Huh?”

Her eyes widened, she held still.

Sicheng languorously looked her over, eyes tracing the dips and curves of her body. “That’s what I thought.”

From a wooden panel, he produced a riding crop, setting aside on a side table as he rolled up his sleeves and loosened the collar on his button-up. Brandishing the crop again, he placed it on her collarbone, the cold leather a stark contrast to Dove’s heated skin.

“Safeword?”

“Sappho, sir.”

The tip of the crop forced her chin up, his intense eyes meeting hers. “Good girl.”

She preened.

He traced it down her chest, circling her sensitive breasts. He chuckled. They were so perfect for him, begging for his attention. She clenched her eyes shut.

Out of nowhere, he sides of both her breasts in two quick snaps of the wrist. Her eyes flew open and she gasped.

“Eyes on me, girl.”

Down and down he went, tracing over her stomach and waist. Sicheng skipped over her mons and started at her feet. He tapped the crop softly against her calves and thighs; he smiled, seeing her keep her stance. Sicheng would delay her orgasm if she so much as bent her legs. The irritating tapping continued until he got to her ass, where he delivered two sharp blows.

He could see her swallow down a moan, her eyes begging him to touch her there. Push and pull, Sicheng reminded himself. Push and fucking pull.

The man looked her dead in the eyes as he snapped the crop all over her ass and waist. Sicheng was unsatisfied. She could withstand the sharp, short pain of the crop and Dove wouldn’t act out.

Throwing the crop to the ground, Sicheng grabbed a ball-gag and paddle from the wall and stalked towards her.

Stuffing the ball-gag into her mouth, he smirked. “Keep your fucking legs straight.”

With that, he wasted no time and swung the paddle straight over her ass. her moan, muffled yet a masterful concerto to his ears, filled the room. Again and again, he paddled her ass until it was hot to touch, taking out his anger at Y/N on her poor ass. She couldn’t think—a buzz filled her ears and a subspace settled over her mind as he kept delivering.

Sicheng smirked as he saw the clear, viscous fluid of her pussy tread down the inside of her thighs. Unable to help himself, he swiped a finger through it and sucked on it.

However, the paddle had hit right next to her throbbing pussy and she cried out, pushing her legs together to relieve the tension.

His slim fingers grabbed her chin. His eyes were wild and his lips were drawn into a familiar snarl. The thought left her head as he hissed. “What the fuck did I just say about keeping your legs straight? You wanna be bad? Disobey my order? I’ll show you bad.”

Uncharacteristically, he threw away the paddle and wrapped a strong arm around her chest. She felt the rough, calloused skin of his palm smack her ass and she couldn’t take it.

Moans and whines forced themselves past her lips as he kept on going, smacking her ass in quick succession with his bare palms. It was a useless mission trying to keep her legs together but he kept going until she was trembling. The only thing keeping her up was his arm around her waist.

“What a naughty, naughty girl,” he whispered into her ear. “You deliberately disobeyed my fucking orders, huh? Fucking put your legs together because you were too impatient for master to touch you.”

“Sir, please,” she sobbed through the gag, saliva dripping down her chin.

Sicheng thrust two fingers into her mouth and she rushed to spit and lube them up. He quickly spread the lips of her labia apart with his finger, and his thumb brushed slightly over her little pearl. The ‘accidental’ move nearly made her pass out, a loud scream echoing along the walls.

“What sweet, sweet screams are elicited from that throat of yours,” he murmured.

Suddenly, he roughly stuffed two fingers into her dripping wet pussy making her scream even louder from the sudden intrusion. Pumping harshly, in and out, an undulating rhythm that made her legs collapse and lean on him totally for support. She cried into his shoulder as he just kept on going, feeling the lush walls of her pussy pulsate against his fingers. Once again, his thumb brushed over her clit and her throat felt raw from her shouting. He rubbed her little pearl viciously while two fingers were still deep in her pussy. Her muffled screaming echoed through out the room and he quickly unbuckled the gag from her mouth.

“Master, sir—please, let me come! I’ll be your good girl, I’ll doing anything you want, I’ll keep my legs apart, I’ll—”

“Come, sweetheart. Come for your master,” he said, his breathing finally a bit labored.

She let out a keening wail and her nails dug into his broad shoulders, shaking uncontrollably against him. He held her close.

Monday January 27th, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

All that could be heard was the crackling fire in the corner of the room. You slumped bonelessly against Dolos on the leather couch, head on his chest, knees pulled up to rest on his lap. As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel his fingers stroke your hair and the comforting sound of his heartbeat thrumming steadily.

“Sir, I… I missed you,” you whispered.

He said nothing. But, as you turned your head up to his, he gazed at you with an unreadable gleam in his eye.

You blushed, and buried your head in his chest. God, that was too sincere. It actually sounded like you needed him outside the walls of this playroom. You knew what happened when you mixed feelings with sex. Trouble.

Trouble was Minghao. Trouble was dark and mysterious—the kind of boy that made girls go starry-eyed and ga-ga over him. The girls would constantly daydream Minghao “fixing” himself for them, “piecing” himself back together in order to be with the girl of his dreams.

Except they were wrong. So, so wrong.

Minghao wasn’t like that. He was cool, he was cruel, and he was mean. He was the first to initiate your eager eyes into BDSM. He was the one that discovered how good of a submissive you were. He was your first in everything.

In the end, he was too much for you. Minghao would’ve destroyed you had you stayed for any longer—would’ve ruined your already fraying self-esteem and confidence. Yet, when the two of you parted ways, it felt like something had been torn out of your chest. You had dedicated yourself to serving this man, thrown your confidence and dignity on an altar and sacrificed it to him, but he had deigned to not even treat you with a modicum of respect outside of playtime.

Never again.

“Never mind, sir. My mouth ran away from me for a moment.”

His right hand rose to cup your jaw, and his fathomless eyes searched yours.

“You are the only thing real in this world, you know that?”

Your thumb stroked his sharp cheekbones and Dolos sighed. He quickly gathered you up in his arms and crushed you into his chest. You froze, unsure what he planned to do.

“Fuck,” he said. “What are you doing to me?”

You gazed into the fire lapping at the stone of the fireplace, snapping and crackling. What the hell was he doing to you? Dolos was the first dom in years to make so weak—so attached.

He gave a bitter laugh.

“I came here for control.”

Burying his face into your hair, he inhaled deeply like you would disappear in thin air.

“So why are you taking it away from me?”

Wednesday January 29th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

3 PM HKT

You sighed and played mindlessly with your pen as the clock ticked forward. Sicheng had gone to the bathroom before your quick progress check with him which left you to scrutinize his office.

If there was one word to describe his office, it would be monotonous. White, black, and red with no personal effects in sight. The only thing that made the space not some page from a design catalogue was the simple calligraphy painting bearing a proverb in harsh, strong strokes.

人算不如天算.

Man proposes and god disposes.

Huh. Funny, for a man whom you thought was fettered by nothing but himself.

The scroll painting was also dead set in the middle of room, with two dark bookshelves flanking it. In fact, everything in the room was perfectly symmetrical. The two chairs faced the desk straight on. There were two pens that stood side by side, unnaturally neat at the center of his desk. Even his recycling bin was perfectly in the center of two tables—

A ball of paper, different from the other stark white sheets in the bin, caught your eye. Weirdly enough, the paper broke the bizarre, polished neatness of the room by laying on the floor adjacent to the bin.

Insatiable curiosity gripped you in its clutches, and you bent down to pick up the odd bit of parchment.

Immediately, you felt the quality of the paper. It was heavy and smooth like silk, not something an individual wrote on casually. Hell, it was aged as well. What was Dong Sicheng doing with this?

Opening the crumpled paper (which had felt like it had been crumpled and straightened many times), you took a look at the contents of the paper.

Your own handwriting stared up at you mockingly.

Dropping the paper like it was a burning ember, you fell gracelessly to the carpeted floor. Your eyes widened and your hand clamped over your mouth to prevent you from gasping.

No. That could not be Dove’s letter. It couldn’t. It couldn’t because—

You heard muffled footsteps echoing coming down the hallway outside the office, and you scrambled off the floor and into your chair. Having no time to think, you stuffed the letter into your coat pocket.

“Y/N, thank you for waiting,” Sicheng greeted, striding confidently into his office.

His casual oxford and black trousers were a slap in the face. How could you not notice the similarities between Dolos and Sicheng? The way they walked, the way they talked, the way they looked at you.

With Sicheng, looking into his eyes was like gazing through a veil. Silhouettes and hints of something indiscernible danced in his eyes, alien to his warm demeanor. Looking into Dolos’ eyes was as if the veil had been lifted, naked and hungry desire running rampant and burning with its ferocity. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide underneath his stare.

Even his forearms. The way they flexed as he lowered himself into his office chair and took one of the freakishly aligned pens in his sinuous fingers. You could see them twisting and rippling as he paddled your—

“Y/N?”

Your eyes refocused on Sicheng watching you intently, concern written on his face.

“N-no problem, really.”

You wanted to facepalm yourself. Your voice almost fucking cracked and sounded shy, like the twittering of the office girls around him. Fuck, where was your ice queen when you needed her?

A slight smile played upon his pink lips, and hell if you couldn’t imagine him calling you a little slut.

The informal progress meeting continued on in the same vein, you acting uncharacteristically bashful and him hiding his befuddled amusement badly.

The paper felt like it was a brand burning through your blazer pocket the rest of the day.

Love, your Darling Dove.

Friday January 31st, 2020

Black’s

9 PM HKT

Friday night once again found him at Black’s, awaiting his weekly tête-á-tête with his darling Dove. But this time, he planned to make it different.

He restlessly toyed with the red, signature box embossed with gold etching. He had never spent this much money on something for someone other than his mother and older sister, but Dove once again compelled him. The necklace with gold filigree had a simple pendant of a blossom, its leaves done in malachite and its petals in iridescent opal. Sicheng imagined Dove in nothing but his necklace, her pretty lips contorted in a moan, and he instantly got hard again.

Fuck. He could not wait to get her to the Salon and kiss every inch of her skin, worshipping her with his mouth and his hands. And after, when she was sated and curled contentedly in his arms, he would ask to remove her mask.

And hopefully, she would say yes.

Then she would be his.

His mouth salivated at the thought, his heart beating just a tiny bit faster at the thought of untying the ribbon of her grey mask and the stupid lace falling down so he could bask in her features. A thousand different features flashed before his eyes, each one as perfect than the next.

Y/N’s cold gaze flashed unbidden before his eyes.

Sicheng’s teeth clenched until he couldn't feel his tongue. As much as he’d like to put her in her rightful place, why was she in his thoughts? Dove was perfect and submissive to his whims, and he was about to make her his. Y/N had no business being even a passing thought.

Although, she acted quite off this week. She was her normal, bitchy self around the office, ruthlessly demanding results while everyone obeyed in a mixture of fear and awe, but Y/N was almost… shy.

She refused to look him straight in the eye, even if, in the past, she had no problem getting all up in his face. Her posture was slumped and hesitant, her hands twiddled and twitched in his presence.

While he liked it a bit more than he should, this was not the Y/N he knew. He had no idea what made her like this and it made him... uncomfortable. Did he do something?

“Dolos, sir.”

He looked up from his broody contemplation into the fire and to the distinguished, older man’s face. This was not some errand boy, this was the owner of the damn establishment. Sir Theodore Lau himself.

“Mr. Lau, nice to see you,” he said, rising up to greet him properly.

“Quite well, and you?”

“In good spirits.”

Mr. Lau’s face took on a pained expression.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Lau?”

The usually unflappable gentleman looked discomfited. “You… I have received this. For you.”

Sicheng cautiously took the letter from Lau’s hands, and broke the wax seal to the aged vellum inside

Dear Dolos,

I am sorry you could not receive the contents of this letter in person, but circumstances have not allowed for it.

Dolos, I’m sorry to inform you I am no longer a patron of Black’s and consequently not your submissive anymore. No, it is not an issue of money. Neither have I been treated untowardly in this establishment. No, I have had to leave because of some personal conflicts.

I have had the best six months of my life with you. You have made me feel comfortable in my submission, with no shame or judgement in those eyes of ours. I looked forward to our Friday rendezvous, embarrassingly eager for when I could be in your arms again. But that shall sadly never happen again.

Please do not get angry, but if our six months together meant anything to you, please do not seek me out. It’s best for the both of us.

Thank you master,

Dove

Sicheng could only gape at the paper, the letters rerunning and jumbling in his mind until they were all a blur. He could literally feel the blood freezing in his veins and the unnatural stillness he was stuck in.

“She… she said she was sorry. Very sorry.”

Mr. Lau could have been speaking gibberish for all he cared, because Sicheng could not hear anything other than the pounding of his blood.

“What the fuck,” Sicheng hissed after a long time of not speaking.

Mr. Lau could only look on piteously. Sicheng’s face was grotesquely beautiful in the firelight, highlighting his angelic features contorted tortuously. The owner had never seen such raw, unfiltered emotion from Sicheng— from anyone in his life, really. This was the face of a man who had the rug taken out from beneath his feet.

He put a fatherly hand on Sicheng’s shoulder. Lau had known the boy since the boy was an adolescent and a submissive had never left him in such a state.

“We have other girls—men as well—who would be more than happy to serve you tonight—”

“I don’t want to fuck tonight,” Sicheng seethed, brushing the older man’s hand off roughly. “I don’t want any of them. I want Dove.”

How could she do this? Just leave him high and dry with just a letter and unforgettable memories? He thought they were more.

Evidently not, Sicheng thought bitterly.

However, something was off in the letter. There were blotches of water around the page and even in the handwriting, as if a droplet had smeared the page. Of perhaps, a tear.

“Can I meet with you privately in your office?” Sicheng said lowly after he got his rage under control.

Mr. Lau sighed. “Of course. Come along.”

Sicheng refused his invitation to sit, but did accept a finger of bourbon. He took a sip, contemplated the glass in his hand, and hurled it at the wall.

Mr. Lau jumped out of his chair, shocked. “Sicheng, those glasses were from my grandfather!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Like air suddenly leaving a balloon, Sicheng deflated and collapsed into the armchair. The blond youth rubbed a hand over his tired face.

“May I ask you for a favor, Mr. Lau?”

The man, inspecting the now ruined silk wallpaper, snorted. “Unless you replace my decanter set, no.”

Sicheng waved a careless hand. “Consider it done. 1890s, correct? I’ll even pay for the cleaning service.”

Harrumphing, the owner sat in his office chair and steepled his fingers. “So, what may I do for you?”

Sicheng’s burning eyes turned towards him.

“Tell me who Dove is.”

Mr. Lau winced. “Anything but that Sicheng, anything. Not her identity.”

“Well, say goodbye to your father’s decanter set, then,” Sicheng murmured petulantly.

“I can live with that. However, I will never disclose her identity— or anyone’s, for that matter.”

“Please, you don’t understand. I need her.”

Oh, how beautiful he looked like this. A tortured angel materialized from a Michaelangelo painting.

Mr. Lau felt all his years weighing him all at once, and two sides of him warred.

“I’m sorry, but no matter how good your intentions are, I personally and legally cannot do that.”

“Even though my family and I have been patrons of the club for decades?”

“Even then. You know this.”

The blond man’s eyes shifted to the side, and his jaw tightened. His knuckles grew white clutching the wood armrests of the chair he sat in.

“Fuck this!” he shouted, suddenly throwing the chair back with a resounding clash. He motioned to stomp his way out of the room, but Mr. Lau’s voice stopped him.

“She’s a good girl, Sicheng. If she wanted to be found by you, she would’ve.”

Sicheng grasped the door and said ominously, “I will not accept this. Never.”

The older gentleman sighed, and took in the destruction a man’s broken heart had left in its wake.

*cackles evilly* to be continued...

793 notes · View notes

mercuryonparklane · 3 years

Text

I seriously debated keeping this one in the drafts...

Okay, I felt compelled to analyze the timeline of all of Taylor’s rumored/alleged boyfriends (barring any that she supposedly dated pre-fame) and why I believe they could have been fake/pr setups...

Disclaimer: this is all speculative and is just my opinion. No one has to agree... we don’t all have to agree because really the only people who know the truth are Taylor and those she has shared it with. I do have a very skeptical view of the entertainment industry and pr, so that is a bias I will own up to. I especially think Taylor, for a very long time, was willing to play along with the pr side of things, but eventually reached a breaking point (as any normal human under that amount of pressure and scrutiny likely would). Whether that means she has faked all of her public relationships or some of them or just aspects of them... I can’t really, truly know that. So, just keep in mind that this is one little, insignificant person’s view of Taylor’s public relationships and that I do not personally know any of the people involved...

Don’t take this too seriously, peeps... I’ll even tag it as crack theory...

Joe J.: June/July-September/October 2008

If nothing else this feels like a typical pr setup of two young stars. He had Camp Rock, a Jonas Bros’ album and a tour and concert film to promote. Camp Rock came out on 6/20/2008. The Jonas Bros’ third album, A Little Bit Longer, was released on 8/12/2008. In August, Taylor joined the band on stage during the filming for a concert movie that would be released in February 2009.

Taylor had an album that was released just weeks after their alleged breakup. An album which contained a few songs that would be attributed to Joe J. due to the publicity surrounding their relationship. Hmm... what a great way to drum up interest in an album that includes quite a few heartbreak songs. Not saying I know that is the case, but they both had a lot to promote between June and November 2008.

Lucas T.: March-April/May 2009

He was in the Hannah Montana movie, which was released 4/10/2009. Taylor had a cameo in that movie and also wrote a song for the soundtrack. Lucas also played Taylor’s love interest in the mv for YBWM, which premiered 5/2/2009 on CMT. He was in one of her Myspace vlogs in April 2009. IMO, this was a setup to promote the Hannah Montana movie and the YBWM mv, but it didn’t really take off. Lucas later said they dated briefly, but he realized that he just saw her as a friend...

Taylor L.: August-December 2009

They played a couple in Valentine’s Day. In September, just days after the VMAs where KW interrupted Taylor on stage as Taylor L. stood a few feet away, Taylor went to an Owl City concert at the Bowery Ballroom where she met the man who would supposedly inspire “Enchanted”. Umm... “please don’t be in love with someone else”... even though I am currently dating Taylor L. and he is my forever crush, but like, I am totally crushing on you actually. I have no clue if any Swifties have ever picked up on that discrepancy.

Oh, and Taylor L. also “dated” Selena in early 2009 and I doubt Taylor would go there, even if they ended on good terms. I mean, it’s possible, but idk it seems unlikely to me.

John M.: December 2009-February 2010

I think Taylor admired him as a musician (this seems to have been mutual with John praising her talent multiple times) and she may have seen him as a mentor at first. I do not believe that anything happened between them beyond that. I think he was so thrown off by “Dear John” because of that. He was already tweeting in the spring of 2009, hinting at wanting to collaborate with Taylor. The album their duet was on came out in November 2009, right before they started “dating”. Although it wasn’t released as a single until June 2010.

Besides, Liz (friend or otherwise) has remained a fan of John and even went to his concert a few years back. So, either she didn’t care that he screwed one of her supposed good friends over or it didn’t go down how people were led to believe it did.

Jake G.: October 2010-December/January 2011

Unless this relationship started much earlier than everyone has been led to believe, it is very unlikely that ATW is about him. It certainly seems to have been written prior to the maple latte/scarf/sister’s house articles that were abundant after that pap walk. Either Taylor used him as a scapegoat for a song that wasn’t about him or he was a willing participant in a pr scheme to make sure people thought the song was about him.

He couldn’t have been setup with his costar, Anne H., because she was already in a long term, committed relationship. At the time Taylor was still good pr since she was still known as a kind of girl next door, all American type with genuine talent.

I’m not saying I know for a fact it was fake. I’m saying there are plenty of reasons why I think it was. Everyone has different perspectives... mine is that this was purely a pr setup.

Will A.: sometime in 2010 and/or mid or fall 2011-January 2012 or May (?) 2012

They were likely just friends, but people did think they were dating back then. The songs that people think he wrote about Taylor (”White Dress” and “Kiss Me Slowly”) were recorded in 2010. So, if she started dating him in September 2011, which people think because the dress she wore to his May 2012 birthday party was the one she is wearing on the “Begin Again” cover art, then those songs aren’t about her. About the party dress... Sarah B., who took the picture, was also friends with the Parchute guys, so maybe the photoshoot that the picture on that cover art came from happened earlier that day.

He was friends with Liz’s ex Jason and one of his best friends is still to this day very close friends with Liz, so that’s probably how he met Taylor. I think Taylor hung out with that crew a bit back then. AND those times Will and Taylor were seen hanging out in late fall/early winter 2011, Jason and/or the other friend were there. Yes, I am saying that Taylor was hanging out with Jason in November/December 2011, just a few months after he and Liz supposedly broke up. She was also still hanging out with Liz a lot at that time and after, though, so I think it was all good.

Conor K.: July 2012-September/October 2012

This was Taylor’s worst pr. If it was a real relationship... it is borderline predatory. If it is fake... still a big yikes... I don’t have much to say about this one. I think it was fake and an attempt at making him the muse for “Starlight” (how cute, this song she wrote about his grandparents sort of became about them), “Begin Again” (nevermind that the copyright record say the song was written in 2011), and EHC (nevermind that the song was written in May 2012). It would have been great pr, though, if he was a couple years older. Taylor should have fired Paula after this one... (because the public should have never known about it, real or fake).

Harry S.: November 2012-January 2013

Similar to all the others before (and after), there were “random” sightings, including a birthday trip to “the lakes” and blatant pr (go on and wear that fox sweater and paper airplane necklace, Taylor...). That NYE kiss, though...

Calvin: February 2015-May/June 2016

Taylor finally dropped her old publicist and brought on Tree. First step, was to erase the “boy crazy”/“man eater” label (and possibly the “professional beard” label) and become an independent woman who just wants to have fun with her gal pals. It got a bit gayer than expected (whether Kaylor was really a thing to some degree or not is irrelevant to the point). The gay rumors were actually catching on even faster and people were like “oh, that’s why she couldn’t keep a man” (sexist/homophobic as all of this is/was, ofc).

Enter Calvin... a playboy DJ who some might deem “tall and handsome as hell” (peeps, I am not really the best judge of a man’s attractiveness, so this is just how I think people see him). He seems sooo straight. I don’t know how else to say it. All of her other supposed boyfriends had gay rumors, whether or not those rumors were just people gossiping or had some basis in reality... I think he is the only one that doesn’t have them, that I know of anyway.

I know a lot of people think they were really together, but I think this was an attempt to have her in a more serious, long term relationship to counteract both the gay rumors (not necessarily as a cover for a woman because I don’t think all of the guys have been or need to have been covers for a secret relationship with a woman, it’s about appearing straight) and the “can’t keep a man” narrative that had followed her around. Even if they were in some sort of situationship (not what I think, just theorizing here), it wouldn’t have been a steady thing and they seemed to not like each other very much when all was said and done.

I still laugh that he said Taylor was the opposite of his type (and specified that he likes brunettes) in November 2014 and then he allegedly dated her for almost a year and a half, starting literally a few months after he made that comment. If that was a real relationship, he was either playing it cool when he said that or he misjudged her or Taylor was determined to date him because it was a challenge.

Either way, it seems like her team controlled the public narrative and maybe Calvin was okay with that at first, but over time it seemed like he wasn’t a big fan of that. Maybe that visit to the strip mall massage parlor was a bit of a rebellion...

At least they both got some royalties out of it...

Joe A.: September 2016-Present

Taylor’s team absolutely has control of the public narrative and he seems okay with that. He is a literal mirrorball. He is whatever Taylor supposedly says he is in her songs/whatever Swifties want him to be.

He likes to drop fun facts like how his family jumps into a freezing pond at Christmas or that he worked at a yogurt shop as a teenager. Whether they are real or not... he seems to be playing into the pr. Dropping little bits of information that will tie him to her songs... it is very “maple latte”/“paper airplane necklace”/dark jeans and Nikes... OR Taylor is just taking the few facts people know about him and using it to pin songs on him.

If he is a beard (which imo he likely is), I think he gets along with Taylor and doesn’t mind the minimal pr of it all.

I don’t think he is WB, either way...

Again this is just my view of things. This has no bearing on which women Taylor may have dated. I could do a separate post on what I think that timeline might look like.

One point I will reiterate is that I do not think that a beard would always be a cover for a secret relationship with a woman. I think it sometimes is, but it can be more of a general cover for someone who is gay. So many people think Taylor is the straightest person who has ever lived simply because of her public dating record. I mean, heteronormativity and homophobia also play a big part in that...

Edit: I completely skipped Tom lol. I just don’t buy that one either. Maybe he thought it would be good publicity or maybe he was led on to think it was more real than it was or maybe he was just having fun. Idk. All kinds of articles written about them at the time included some caveat about how they seemed fake or were maybe filming something...

#gaylor crack theory

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spectrumed · 3 years

Text

5. sleep

It hardly gets dark in the Swedish summers. Between dusk to dawn, you’ve got about an hour to fall asleep before the sun rises again. If you struggle to fall asleep that fast, you can invest in some good window blinds. Or you can do as I do and place one big pillow over your face. Then the birds start singing around three o’clock in the morning. You can practically hear the sounds of Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood playing at around four o’clock in the morning. Around five o’clock in the morning, it is as bright as midday. Did you have a good time sleeping? Or did you pace around in a circle having one hell of a panic attack? I thought you took some of those sleeping pills you got prescribed, they should have helped you fall asleep… wait, you did take them? They didn’t work? Oh, they did work, you just felt your body falling asleep while your mind stayed awake? That sounds terrible, real terrible. Very well. It’s morning now. Want some coffee?

You could form a religion out of sleeping. Let’s have sermons where we fill a whole auditorium full of beds and have our congregates take a big collective nap. Sleep for the sleep god! Pillows for the pillow throne! Sleep is a billion-dollar industry, there’s a plethora of handy products you can buy that promise to send you on a luxury liner to dreamland. Pills, mattresses, dreamcatchers, whatever your snoozy heart desires. You can go to a proper doctor and they might help you, or you can settle for the placebo effect and go to some fraudulent quack, instead. He might make you swallow some pills that contain arsenic, but hey, arsenic is a naturally occurring element. It can’t be all that bad for you if it is natural. And you do want to sleep, don’t you? If you take this pill in your mouth and swallow it with a glass of water, I promise you, you will sleep for a very long time.

The esteemed former president of the United States of America, Donald Trump, claims that he only needs four to five hours of sleep every night. While Mr. Trump is well-known to be a paragon of honesty, I do doubt he’s telling the truth. No, I actually do believe him when says that he only gets about four or five hours of sleep each night, I just don’t believe him when he says that is all he needs. He doesn’t look very well-rested, does he? And Margaret Thatcher, the similarly adored former prime minister of the United Kingdom, claimed that she also only needed about four hours of sleep every night. Yes, while researching the sleeping habits of famous monsters, I’ve come to the conclusion that amongst powerful individuals, not getting enough sleep has become a proper badge of honour. The belief is that if you don’t get enough sleep, that must be because you are living such a vibrantly successful life, and are so career-driven, that you simply haven’t got enough time to sleep for the full eight hours. People who sleep for more than four hours are lazy liberals. Go-getters like Trump has got to be out there, working, making decisions, raping women, and showing daddy what a good boy he is. Sleep is for the weak. But maybe I am weak. I sure like sleeping.

It’s the cultural hangover our society has had since the 80’s. Back when the yuppies wearing jackets with obscenely padded shoulders would happily chuck down eight to ten espressos in one go while A Flock of Seagulls was playing on the radio encouraging everyone to go running. And to be fair to them, with the constant fear of the doomsday clock hitting midnight, they really had no reason to think that they’d survive the decade. The new millennia, it seemed, would have no cities, no nature, no humans, only radiated mutants scouring the rubble that remains of civilization for cans of preserved something edible. Self-destructive behaviour was in. It was fashionable. Doubt people got enough sleep back then, between snorting coke and wondering if the next pandemic that hits the night clubs would start killing as many straight folks as gay folks. Well, here we are in the new 20’s, and we’ve got a pandemic that does appear to kill people regardless of sexual orientation. Sure, the looming threat of nuclear obliteration has been lessened dramatically, but we’ve largely come to exchange that anxiety for the fear of total environmental collapse, instead. No wonder 80’s nostalgia is a big thing right now. History doesn't repeat itself, but It often rhymes, said Mark Twain (supposedly.) I wonder how much coke Mark Twain would snort if he lived in the 80’s.

I notice a palpable difference in my mood and mental state when I’ve been getting good amounts of sleep. Lack of sleep results in lack of clear thinking. Caffeine, though it is something I am chronically addicted to, does not help fix a sleep-deprived mind. There are no tricks of revolutionary “life hacks” one can employ to get out of sleeping. To recover from depression, one has to sleep. Sleep often and sleep well. I cannot understate the importance of being well-rested. You cannot process information if you are tired. I am reminded of my teenage years seeing friends of mine who’d stay up all night, then come into school shuffling like agonised zombies. They got so frustrated when the teachers reprimanded them for snoozing in class. Well, dummies, it is your fault for drinking several dozen cans of Red Bull every day! I know that sleep does not always come easy. I know the terror of insomnia. But, c’mon! At some point, you’ve got to realise that sleep is essential. Maybe most of your problems stem from the fact that you refuse to get enough of it? Here’s where the tough love comes in. If you wanna get better, kiddo, then listen to me. It’s bedtime. Yes, I know you’d rather stay up late playing monopoly with your friends, but I’m confiscating your dice and I’ll only give it back to you when you’ve gotten some good sleep. Okay? You hear me, missy? You listen to your daddy now, and go to bed. No ifs or buts about it, princess, I’ve made myself clear. I know what is best for you, and you know that I am right. I’m your daddy.

But what if I can’t seem to fall asleep? Normally, it takes a long time for me to fall asleep. It is not uncommon for me to stay awake for two hours, maybe more, before I finally begin to sleep. Fearing that I won’t fall asleep gives me anxiety. That anxiety keeps me awake. I turn my body. I try lying on my side. First my left side, then my right side. I then try to lie on my back. I’ve got a song stuck playing in my head. Not even the whole song, just a ten-second segment of it. It’s playing over and over. I’m worried about the future, will I ever find security, will I ever find a wife, will I get to grow old? I worry about death. I keep hearing the music playing, it’s grating. I rearrange the pillows, in hopes that will make me feel more comfortable. But no, I keep tossing and turning like a fish caught on land. I’m getting frustrated. If only I could shut off my brain. I’m constantly thinking. I turn to my side again, but now I notice I’ve moved arounds so much that now the bed has shifted away from its position next to the wall. There’s now a gap between the bed and the wall. I almost fall down that gap. I get up and I push the bed back against the wall. I lay down in bed. The song is still playing.

How am I ever going to become a successful businessman if I am wasting so many hours just trying to get to sleep? This is the time I should be spending on the phone, yelling at people and making inappropriate sexual comments to my female employees. That is what good executives do. I need to get my life in order. I need to exercise more. I should practice mindfulness. I should get a life coach, a personal trainer, a stylist, an accountant, an assistant, a trophy wife, and a mistress. I need people in my life to take care of me. It’s funny how rich people create the sort of environment around them where people will take care of all their needs, effectively infantilising them. These people don’t even get to decide how to dress themselves. They’ve got fancy apartments, but they don’t choose any of the furniture. They’ve got art on the walls that they don’t like, but the art looks expensive, and that is all that matters. They’ve got kids, but they don’t raise them. Their spouses are cheating on them, but in fairness, they are cheating on their spouses. They don’t really even know what their jobs entails, as they’ve gotten promoted so many times that they’ve ended up in a position that is totally outside their realm of expertise. But they’re so powerful that no-one is able to fire them over their pretty blatant incompetence. They’re successful. They’ve made it. But they still can’t sleep at night. They only manage to successfully fall asleep at night after swallowing a fistful of pills along with a swig of vodka.

It must be easy being a self-help guru. Well, what I mean to say is that all you really need is charisma, which is something you need to be born with. But you don’t need to do any actual studying, any real research, or any kind of soul-searching or deliberation. All you need is to state what is obvious. You go on stage in front of an anxious audience, mostly composed of middle-class salesmen and miscellaneous white collar ghosts. You smile, show off your eerily bright teeth, and they clap. You tell them to go take care of themselves, to eat more healthily, to take walks, or go swimming, and love their partners. You tell them to drink less, or maybe, if they feel like it, they could drink more. I am sure you could spin alcohol as a positive or a negative, depending on what crowd you’re talking to. Tell them to appreciate family. Tell them to appreciate others. Live, laugh, but most of all, love. Tell them to go clean their rooms. Tell them to remember that if they’re on an airplane that is about to crash land, they need to put their own oxygen mask on before they can help others put theirs on. If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else? Now, go to bed!

You know all this stuff. Me telling you that you should sleep more doesn’t really help you. You know that you should sleep more. It’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that. And it’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that it is better to drink in moderation, and that you should smoke less weed. There are many small little things you can do to improve your life, to stop being a terminally unemployed slacker. It’s like your grandpa who tells you stories about life after the war when you could walk into the biggest building in town, slam your fist against the table and demand to be given a job and a house and a wife and a couple of kids, and that was all you needed to do. He can’t comprehend the fact that society doesn’t work like that, any more. Most people my generation have given up hope of ever owning a home, at least if they happen to live in the vicinity of a larger city. It seems that, no matter where you live, the cost of homes has risen to an impenetrable degree. It seems just as likely that you will be able to afford your very own genetically-engineered pet dragon before you will get to be a house-owner. It’s the fault of those damn boomers, why bother changing your ways, when the boomers are still in charge? Others may accuse you of wallowing in your own depression, but you are perfectly aware that this is exactly what you are doing. You are self-aware. But self-awareness on its own is not enough to motivate anyone. You still can’t see the point in doing anything constructive with your life. Life just feels so aimless. It’s easier to sit, smoke weed, and watch cartoons.

Pop psychology is problematic. To say the least. Take all those self-help gurus suffering from their messiah complexes and put them through the shredder. Don’t buy books thinking that they’ll offer you the kind of treatment you would get from an actual psychiatrist. I know that, depending on where you are in the world, treatment can get very expensive, but you’re not going to get better reading the book of some self-aggrandising narcissist’s collection of wishy-washy platitudes. Dr. Phil has done great evil pretending to be a therapist on the TV, and Jordan Peterson (despite having once been an esteemed scholar) has turned a generation of young internet-savvy zoomers into proto-fascists obsessed with the monogamy of lobsters. Pop psychology has become a guise for cult leaders to reap new followers. Getting treatment should not feel like joining a new religious movement. Maybe I’m just one of those annoying atheists, but I dare say, psychiatry works at its best when it's secular. You should not look at your psychiatrist as a prophet speaking to God. They’re just a doctor, and you need treatment.

I do not aspire to create a self-help blog. I do not promise that reading this blog will help you in any way. I would be overjoyed if someone came up to me and told me that I had inspired them to seek help. You may tell me that reading my words have made you feel less alone, knowing that others have gone through all these things that you are going through. When I felt at my worst, I remember reading the memoirs of people I admired who had similarly struggled in their lives, and I felt less alone. But none of those books pretended to exist principally to help others. Those books did help me, through the candid descriptions of struggles that I thought I was alone in experiencing. Knowing that some people had pulled through, managed to find a light at the end of the tunnel, it made me think I could one day be like them. The books didn’t seek to fix me, but they offered me a perspective that came to be very valuable later on, when I started going to therapy, and when I later started taking medication. Sometimes that is all you need. Not someone standing over you and telling you to go to bed, or to clean your room, or to stop drinking. You know all that, already. What you really need is the reassurance that things can indeed get better. Sleep will come.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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