#[why are all my open starters about books?]

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 1: Breeding

Pairing: aespa Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,471

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

A/N: Happy birthday to Winter!! This will be her birthday fic as it's intentional to put her as the introductory of the series since it's also her day!

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“God, that’s an awful one.”

It definitely wasn’t atrocious in your opinion, but it’s the opposite with her—she barely appreciated something that much about the movie and it’s nothing new, honestly. Minjeong is hard to impress, and it almost feels like a fever dream if she turned around, her interest piqued or even the slightest of a smile induced on that sternly, beautiful face of hers. You know a couple of things to break that attitude down in the slightest but nothing was ever close and you didn’t care about it because you’re treating her, not the other way around. Sure, she appreciates your efforts but you know it was never enough and you hate it.

“At least you’ve watched the movie I want, Minjeong.”

“But it’s horrible! At least I didn’t get bored by you rubbing my thighs—”

“Minjeong, not here! You damn know we’re still in public, right?”

On how many times you’d told her to calm her nerves down in public is how many times she’d disregarded your scolding, acting like the biggest brat and the most seductive vixen you’ve been with.

Your relationship with Minjeong… isn’t the best but god, it’s always a wild and interesting ride. 

For starters, it’ll be such a nuisance with all of the complaints and random whimpers from her in someone’s perspective and it is true, she’s truly annoying and hard to deal with—almost like a child trapped in a woman’s body. Yet, you got the grip of her and read her like a book, absolutely knowing what she loves and doesn’t but it’s not always the best of things coming to her end. 

She may seem like a douche but honestly, she's thoughtful and the complete opposite of that. It also doesn’t help the fact that she lived most of her life with such luxury that it’s almost peak-sophistication and even with you, she feels the same. 

With the days you're down, she’s there to comfort you as you do with her and that’s why you’ll always cherish every moment with her, even with the most embarrassing and the silliest ones.

Her perfect imperfections, it’s pristine and broken yet so beautiful…

“You can’t stop me, daddy.”

“Yeah, I can’t.” you mutter upon yourself as she’s trying to push your buttons once again. Knowing things may get out of control, you didn’t want to waste some time trying to deal with her and instead, coursed the way towards your vehicle, leading the way. With just mere two minutes of walking, you swiftly approached your vehicle, opening the front passenger door as a gentlemanly act towards Minjeong as she chuckled softly, flustered from your actions as you got onto your seat too in a rush.

“What do you want, Minjeong?”

“I’m just so tired, daddy—let’s just go home to your place. I love it there! It’s so cozy and it smells so fruity and flowery…”

And she’s luring you to fall into her trap again, probably. This wasn’t the plan all along—both of you should part ways after escorting Minjeong on her way home—yet there’s maybe something in her mind that can possibly worsen or make everything better even though it was.

As much as you can read her, she’s an unpredictable woman and that’s what makes her unique—unique enough for you to fall in love.

“Well, I thought you were going home? Isn't this enough?”

“Well—” Minjeong clicks her tongue, smiling not-so-sarcastically as she lets you know how serious she is with her decision. “—your Minjeongie changed her mind—and don’t tell me you don’t want me!”

Minjeong’s minuscule noise and tone of annoyance is as adorable as her pristine beautiful face, and you can’t help but giggle because of her cute act.

“Yah! I never said anything that I don’t want you—” You then kissed her cheek and ran your hands onto her silky dark-brown locks as she blushed from your subtle actions. She finds it endearing with you, reassuring her as she feels the utmost affection that she always loved. “—besides, I even love that idea better…”

“Stop it…” Minjeong lightly punches your shoulder as she feels weakened with your affection towards her. 

“Well, besides—” You adjust your position to further look into her with a better angle, further appreciating her flawless features and for you to have a better conversation with her. “—there’s no one is this world that can stop us, Minjeongie.”

Caress her hair playfully and then run your finger slowly down her cheek as you finish your sentence that implies the utmost adoration—

“I want you for me, tonight, and no else.”

Minjeong inches her face closer towards yours as her eyes scanned your face, her mouth curling up a smirk and her hand cupping your cheek gently, letting you know how she adores you too.

“I feel the same too… I want you and you only.”

Unable to contain the built-up intimacy from earlier, she initiated a torrid kiss in which you were caught off-guard but your instinct made you reciprocate quickly enough before you even truly noticed. Pecks and sounds of little-to-none discomfort, as well as pleasure can be heard resonating around the car. You feel yourself falling down to the deep abyss again, constantly drowning into the sea of intimacy yet you swim away, forcing yourself to pull out not because you’re out of breath but because you wanted to go home with Minjeong as soon as possible.

“But I wanted more!” 

“When we get to your place, we could spend the entire night doing this—or maybe even more, Minjeong…”

As much as wanted to disagree and derive you onto her wants, she can’t blame you with that as you absolutely had a point. Both are deprived of each other’s taste, and both of you want to savor it on full-comfort and ease—at Minjeong’s home.

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Scrambled and scuffed, probably the best way to describe Minjeong’s bedroom right now as the clothing is just everywhere—to god knows where they are and you absolutely didn’t care about it. The two of you didn’t want any foreplay or any teasing involved yet you know that Minjeong isn’t like that, so she herself has something to hold you over while you’re absolutely just with your boxers.

“So needy for me, Minjeongie…”

“Can’t help myself, daddy and besides—” She moans ever-so-slightly as you continue peppering her neck with kisses that makes her world rock on how full of heat and love each peck has. “—I can’t control myself whenever you’re around…”

And the feelings are mutual towards each other. You know how needy and submissive she can get whenever she’s in her vulnerable position and as much as you want her to strip teases you, you can’t help but take a glance and appreciate the beauty behind her glamorous outfit. 

“By the way, Minjeong, I don’t if I said this already but—” Minjeong’s puppy-like eyes was all in your sight, anticipating something that will come out of your mouth as you smile and caressed her hair. “—you look stunning and perfect in this outfit. I love it so much…”

As you were peppering her neck with more kisses of affection, she can’t help but moan and blush with your compliment, knowing how much you adored her look today.

“T-thank you—ahh, daddy. I’ve always wanted to be the most beautiful girl in your eyes whenever we meet. So I—ahh, always put effort on make-up—”

“Minjeong—” You move towards her, your face just inches closer to her as you tilt her chin, making her look up to you, dead in the eyes. “—there’s no other girl that’s more beautiful than you, alright? You’re my everything and everything that I need.”

Minjeong flashes that beautiful grin, her eyes almost half-lidded with the genuine smile she’s emanating, feeling the utmost adoration. She then stole a kiss with your lips and you immediately reciprocate with it, running your hands down her jacket and removing it off her arms as the other palms her stupendous curves of her waist while the kiss gets heated, riling up immediately to the tongue action that the both of you missed. While you were busy with your intimate kiss with Minjeong, she herself already got her dress off in a single, swift motion while you could only feel her dress brushing against your arms. She looked great on it but it would be better with it off her scrumptiously slender body so you didn’t care and continued the heat that was ignited earlier before you even got home.

“Daddy…”

“Yes?”

Minjeong slowly courses her hand on your abdomen and then, near your clothed crotch in which you instantly know what she wants but you still prefer to have it her way—she may want something else or more than what you’re thinking. 

“I need this inside me. Please, daddy…”

The way she pleads with her glistening orbs and her pouty mouth never fails to make you weak, and behind that pure countenance of hers is the lustful and wanton needs that should be attended immediately. You knew that this may happen before you even met her today and whenever she’s horny (especially when she’s with you), her heat can’t be stopped and must be fulfilled immediately or things will break loose. Loose in both ways, can either be good or bad but there’s nothing to worry about as the both of you heated up the atmosphere with another torridly intimate kiss.

While you’re busy pecking her beautiful lips, she swiftly ran her hands onto your stiffened rod and stroked it slowly, earning a subtle moan from your lips in which she smiled knowing how much it turned you on in an instant. She continued doing this for seconds until you stopped her, earning a small whimper and a cute sulk from Minjeong. With her panties now off, down to her ankles, you brushed your tip against her dripping folds, earning the sultriest moans escaping Minjeong’s mouth.

“Please, d-daddy—ahh! Fuck me like how I deserve it—”

“How do you think you deserve it, Minjeong, hm?”

She just whimpers uncontrollably within every oscillation your hips do, brushing so gently on her folds as she can’t think straight or anything articulate. Within every tease earns the mellowest of pleas that can absolutely make you give in to your deepest carnal desires but you resist, your iron will holding yourself up, dealing with your own dominant trait against Minjeong.

“L-like—daddy, ahh—uhm, l-like a g-good girl?”

You continue with your teases until you had enough and plunged your whole length immediately without even warning her—

“We’ll see about that, baby—but for now, you better take me like a good girl and I’ll—” You bring in a spank that marks an imprint onto that porcelain skin, making her cry and groan from the pain and from your leisure pace of thrusts. “—fill you up, okay? My poor little Minjeongie… So needy…”

Of course, you aren't just going to fuck her slow without doing anything more than that, so without wasting any time, you pull her into another hot kiss as immediately reciprocates. You’ll never get tired of tasting the succulent flavor of her lips as you were addicted to it right away—the feelings are mutual so it wasn’t really hard for Minjeong to comply and get into the same boat as you. Pulling out of the embrace of her lips on yours, she breathes heavily right after and so do you, catching air as your eyes wander around her smooth, pristine skin of her collarbones and neck. You didn’t hold back on your temptation as you immediately latched onto it, peppering it with multiple kisses that elevates the urge inside you on increasing the pace of your thrusts but you maintained your earlier composure, giving her your utmost intimacy with maximum pleasure and moderation. 

Minjeong’s moans are so heavenly, encapsulated with its own primal call and utmost adoration with how you’re treating her as it pumps the fuel of animalistic urges. It’s hard to maintain such a moderate pace whenever Minjeong pleads with her soft-toned voice and the lewdest sounds possible—you eventually feel yourself giving in, slowly intensifying your thrusts and you don't bother to slow it down.

 “Look at me, baby.” You said with all-seriousness and a demanding tone yet you know how Minjeong can’t really focus because of the peak pleasure she’s been experiencing that’s completely a sight to see, for you, at least. “Minjeong, look at me!” Another call and she responded yet without her eyes being full of tense and her breaths ragged as each thrusts is too much to take yet so enchanting to feel. 

And then, she slowly averted her glistening orbs, pupils dilating from anticipation as you muttered: “I’ll definitely fill you up to the hilt, okay?”

Your eyes ignite with lust as you groan in pain yet pleasure drives you onto your craziest cravings of desire, as you quickly follow up what you’ve said: “You like the thought of me painting your walls white, hm, Minjeong?”

She whimpers, biting her lip as she’s starting to lose herself because of so much pleasure. “I l-love—gahh-ahh—it, daddy! Please c-cum—gahh—inside m-me!”

Minjeong’s moans orchestrate such melodies that pleases your ears and further fuels your arousal, skyrocketing it up to the point every thrust you do inside her, you groan in tempo with it (your thrusts) and with how much her tight cunt clenches around your shaft just puts gasoline on the flames of lust. You didn’t let her catch a break as your pace finally wildens after like three minutes of a slow and steady one and you could feel the sudden spike of pleasure coursing down your veins. The view of Minjeong was the most erotic you’ve ever seen since earlier: her eyes alternating on being half-open to a full-closed one as you know how much those orbs anticipates and dilate in every thrust you do, her mouth in a shape of ‘O’ as she stick out her tongue, her face ahegao from the reckless treatments you’ve been doing to her, sweat dousing down her neck and onto the back, also down to her toned midriff and the cherry on top, her scrumptiously small mounds with her taut buds that further turns you on.

With a relentless pace being ensued by your hips, an ear-screeching sound escapes her lips as you pound her like an animal, chasing your very own high. With just the tip inside, almost withdrawing your whole length up to filling her up to the hilt is an exhilarating experience and this is probably the hottest sessions you’ve been in with her—maybe, you’re a bit biased now since you only think of just plowing her tight cunt until she see stars and the overstimulation from both parties doesn’t help with your articulate judgment.

“God—you’re tightness, baby—fuck… Since when did you get so tight?”

Of course, she can’t answer just immediately but rather, taking seconds because of the pleasure she’s experiencing. She doesn’t know if it’s a rhetorical or a genuine question but she didn’t care because she wanted to answer anyway.

“I don’t k-know, daddy—ahh! I’m j-just so—gahh, daddy! Just s-so tight ar—around you!”

Well, the feelings are just mutual—you can’t help yourself but get too hard whenever she seduces you and she knows it because she’s one of the multiple weaknesses you possess. Between the rapid movements of your hips, you take some time to look at her pristine features and run your hands to caress it while still maintaining your ruthless pace. She screamed followed by hurried moans that further ignited your animalistic spirit and permeated a blessing to this filthy atmosphere that is probably a nightmare for the neighbors to hear upon—and the last thing you want to hear knocking at your doorstep is a noise complaint from them.

Hearing Minjeong’s moans is angelic and erotic, and it’s even going to get hotter considering how she mewling about reaching her high sooner and you know that she can’t do anything about it, even if you commanded her to hold on and not to cum yet. You know that your princess requires her needs to be attended whenever possible, and you’ll treat her as one and a ear-deafening scream pursuits you to go faster and harder in her tight, little heated cavern as she pulls you into an embrace, her nails gripping your shoulders and almost leaving your skin scratched but you didn’t mind it.

She needs to cum and you’ll give it to her because she means everything to you and you’ll make her world rock with it. She deserves it, like the good, little servant she is for your cock and it’s just obvious because of how much her walls grip and hug around your stiffened member.

“Daddy, I’m g-going to c-cum…” Minjeong whines audibly between your thrusts and with the sight of this, you fuck her like an animal, helping to chase her orgasm sooner and to make her achieve the utmost bliss.

“I know, baby. Now cum.”

She doesn't hold back anything, screaming in delight as she lets out everything while still gripping you tightly with her hands as a leverage from the mind-boggling orgasm she’s having. With how much she creamed all over your raging length—her juices forming like a rivulet around your cock that it stained the bed sheets and god, you’re damn sure you need a new one after you’re done with her—you could tell how euphoric her orgasm was as you still fuck her through it, but with a moderate pace, you wanting to get onto your high too, and not just hers.

“You good, baby?”

“Y-yeah…” Minjeong weakly responded, her eyes a bit drowsy from the earlier orgasmic earthquake as she tries to recover from it. “Please c-cum inside me. Breed m-me—spill it all out i-inside my tight cunt…”

You’re fulfilling that, of course.

Even with her enervated state, she still looks hot as fuck and you can’t help but get more aroused with her ruined look. With your pace building up again, you grab onto her hips for an outlet of your own pleasure as her moans encourage you to get onto your high much faster. With tight feelings on your loins getting out of hand, you know it’s going to be achieved soon so you hammer her pussy with deep thrusts that rocks her world ultimately. 

Her wanton face never fails to make you on your knees and it’s about time to let it all out inside her. 

A wild groan and the burying of your whole length up to the hilt is just a signal of achieving paramount pleasure. She can feel it and lets out a faint moan and a whimper as you deposit all of your seed inside her, not wasting a single drop not buried deep in her cunt.With still the mere adequate will in your body, you thrust your hips, fucking your semen deeper in her and to chase your still orgasmic state. Minjeong’s sultry cadence brushes off your ears, finding a way to force you into oblivion yet you can’t take such more because of your sensitivity. Giving both of yourselves some space to recover and breathe, you slowly pulled out of her tightness, causing Minjeong to cry in need and satisfaction.

“God, daddy—y-you came in me… A l-lot—o-oh…” Minjeong smiles with the oozing semen coming out of her hole, grabbing a small sample and then tasting it, humming in satisfaction as she’s delighted to taste your delicious product.

“What c-can I say—you’re goddamn hot, Minjeong.”

It was never enough and you know it to yourself she deserves more. You’re still sensitive but the urge of ruining her pristine and god-like image is more than the definition of arousing—it’s monumental and probably an experience of a lifetime. Still with your unrivaled hardness, you can’t tell how you will not ruin her again with your cock as she senses it, smirking and luring you to another round of filthiness and she’s not far with that. 

“Such a slut for my cock, huh, baby?”

“You k-know me, daddy…”

Yes, you know her well and so are her limits. This was just the beginning of a spectacular show that you’re about to be into and it will be one hell of a night between the both of you. It’ll be a euphoric one, to that extent.

Being creative is a blessing in disguise, even in times like this even with your primal desires taking over you. You wanted variety as there’s more room to discover and to feel with her—experiment with her. Well, this wasn’t an experiment, but rather, you wanted to feel a different side of intercourse. As much as you want to see her beautiful face whenever you’re fucking her like an animal, you wanted it from behind, where you can achieve a different kind of pleasure and deeper penetration, which Minjeong utterly likes. You then commanded her to spin her figure around, get herself on all fours. She’s not naïve in these kinds of situation, being clever enough to do the rest—her ass up, face buried down the pillows

“Such a good girl for daddy, huh?” An obligatory spank on her bubble butt spices the atmosphere in the room, heat permeating the air as Minjeong’s moans add up to the concoction.

“I know you like it from behind—well now, you’ll get what you want, baby.”

This new profound position is a sensational experience and it’s literally everything you can dream of. Plunging your length deep inside her again, you groan with her tightness that rivaled any hole that she has—maybe even her walls gripping tighter than her ass, but that’s saved for another day. You painfully thrust inside her, moaning in unison as the pleasure is suddenly coursing down your veins, and hers and it’s hard to think straight with it. 

Clouded with the filthiest thoughts possible and the urge of bypassing the sensitivity you’re feeling, you didn’t start off slow but did the opposite—ensuing such a reckless pace like earlier. In each thrust you do, a spanks comes in every divisible of twos as Minjeong lets out a cry and a moan that further ignites the lust in you. Knowing you need an outlet to further have a greater grip in fucking her, your other hand reaches for her hair, making a makeshift ponytails and pull her head up, her back arched in order for those muffled moans be unshackled, letting your ears be blessed with those sinful moans escaping her beautiful lips.

“Daddy, y-you’re—ahh—t-too deep!!”

“And y-you’re too tight, baby—but I fucking love it!”

It’s not a complaint but rather a call of pleasure as the penetration was euphorically insane to take, for her, yet she loves it. You notice how much she’s spilling out her juices around your cock—and maybe even some of your semen leaking out—and by the sight of it, she’s definitely enjoying it as you continue fucking her cunt mercilessly.

She’s sensitive and vulnerable, bound to be broken and ruined within just merely a reasonable fraction of the power your hips ensues and yes, she’ll be a sullied mess after you’re done with her. She faintly moans after every spank you do, and a shrill from time to time, between your thrusts. You could tell that she’s about to reach her high again with the tight clenching of her pussy around your length, almost suffocating the life of it and the stream of her juices being the cherry on top.

“Daddy—I’m g-gonna cum ag—again—gahh!”

You lower down your head as your mouth is now inches away from her ears, whispering the words that breaks the reservoir inside her—“Cum for me, darling.”

And she didn’t hold back, again. It feels like she’s in an override as her thighs quiver from another mind-blowing orgasm that she’s letting out, streams and streams of her juices gushing out of her emanating heat and around your throbbing length. You kiss her nape and her shoulders while achieving her high, letting her know how much you love her and how much you’ll cherish every moment with her.

“I love you baby—yes, let it all out…”

“Gahh—uh-uh, daddy! Aren’t you g-gonna cum too?”

“Well, you don’t need to say that anymore, baby.”

Chasing your own orgasm too, you pick up the pace you’ve left earlier, bringing in the harshness of thrust as every oscillation brings in maximum pleasure on both parties. You’re too aroused to see her in this state, so you thought of venting every horny detail that you’ve been battling around your head to her.

“Damn, Minjeong—this pussy really deserves to be bred and used, isn’t it? You like milking my cock until my balls feel like raisins, hm? ‘Cause gosh—it’s really working and I’m going to breed this pussy until you’re leaking with my cum, do you under—stand?”

“Y-yes, daddy—breed y-your beautiful slut! Bree—”

With your energy invigorated and so is the serotonin running down your body, you shoot another thick load inside her, painting every inch of her walls full of your warm seed. With your unparalleled carnal desires, you still fuck yourself hard enough for her butt to jiggle as it resonates even up to her thighs. With multiple pecks and suckling onto the porcelain skin of her neck, you fuel your orgasmic state, wishing your orgasm to last longer but not all things are everlasting, hence, they all end in a good note.

With your high depleting down, off to a cliff, you pull out of her with a satisfied groan, admiring the mess you’ve made between her legs as your cock twitches on the arousing sight of her full-creamed pussy. You exchange arduous breaths to each other, exhausted from the steamy session you’ve been into. She turned around, her body laying flat on the bed as your sweaty bodies collide, inviting her into an embrace and for a warm cuddle that you always loved.

“Daddy, y-you came so m-much, again…” 

 “You know I can’t waste not even a single drop with you, baby.” You peck her forehead with a n affectionate kiss, making her hum in delight as she appreciates your little actions.

With all of the filthiness that had made the room a big mess, you invite her to clean up with her in the bathroom as she struggles a little, concern feigning all over your face.

“You good, Minjeong?”

“Y-yeah, I guess y-you wrecked my pussy too hard…”

“I’m sorry about that—” Minjeong quickly lays a finger on your mouth, silencing you from your continuous apology. She reassures you that everything’s fine as she wanted this anyway, to be totally sullied and ruined by you.

But sometimes, people love to risk going over the limit…

“Probably a round three in the shower, daddy?”

And there she goes, again…

[wolfiesmoon]

Lockscreen background

Malleus x gn!reader

i seem to have a thing for characters who are clueless abt technology hahaha, this takes place before we actually find out his real name btw

(also i apologise if malleus is ooc in any way i'm still in the early books of the game😭)

"Hello." You heard a voice behind you as you exited the classroom. You turned around to find... uh, Hornton, was it? You still can't get over the stupid nickname that Grim picked, but he seems completely okay with you calling him that, so you keep doing it.

What could he possibly want with you?

"Uhh, hi...!" you greeted him back awkwardly.

"I have a somewhat trivial yet important matter I need help with." He opened and you tilted your head slightly. Now your interest is piqued.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." he suggested at your confused expression. You nodded slowly. Though this whole conversation is strange so far, he looks anything but malicious. And knowing him, he never is.

The two of you went to a more secluded part of the school and as soon as you got there, he pulled something out from his pocket, handing it to you. It looked to be a brand new phone.

"Could you help me with this object? I have no idea how to use it and you are the only one I can approach about this." he looked a little worried.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" you offered and his expression softened slightly.

"Turning it on, for starters."

A silence fills the room.

"Ahahahaha, oh jeez... I'm- I'm sorry- hahahaha...!" You couldn't help but laugh. He didn't even know how to turn it on?

Needless to say, he was not amused by your laughter. "If you will laugh at me, I will not be needing your help anymore." He crossed his arms.

"No- No- I'm sorry, I really am." You had to hold back a few giggles. "I'll help- I'll help you, you just shocked me with how little you know about a.. p-phone." He suddenly seemed like a 90 year old grandpa who bought a phone to talk to his grandkids and didn't know the first thing about it. What a funny mental image.

"You're talking strangely." He commented, and you quickly turned the phone in his direction before he could question your attempts at stifling a laugh.

"Here, see this button? You press it and the phone turns on, like this." You demonstrated, and his face lit up.

"I see. But, the salesperson informed me that this phone is unlockable by something called 'Face ID' as well. Do you know what that is by any chance?" The genuine interest in his voice was actually kind of cute.

"Don't worry about all that. Actually, why are you buying a phone only now?" You thought it was strange. If he was this clueless about technology, why buy a modern cellphone all of a sudden?

"During class, some of my classmates were discussing about these so called phones. They talked about something called a 'magicam'. And I... became curious." the little pause at the third sentence made you think that might just not be the full truth. But you have no reason to be suspicious or question him on it, so you just told yourself to forget about it.

"Magicam might be a little too... advanced for you right now. Here, let's start by exchanging contacts." You showed him the 'contacts' app, opening it and inputting your number and your name.

You handed the phone back to him. "Here, now press this green button on the bottom left and you'll call me." he did as you instructed and your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, answering the call.

"Hello!" you said cheerfully.

"I can... hear you twice. Is there magic imbued within a phone?" his eyes were widened slightly, even more so when he heard his own voice from your phone.

"You silly goose, we only hear eachother twice because we're standing right next to eachother. Stay here and place the phone next to your ear, okay?" you smiled at him, walking away.

"I am not silly and I am certainly not a goose. I thought it was obvious enough by taking once glance at me."

"It's not an insult, Hornton. It's like a silly little thing you say to someone when they say something, well, silly." you smile, now completely out of his line of sight and standing in a different room.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again "I can still hear your voice."

"Yup, that's what a phone is, in essence. Nowadays we use it for a lot of things, but basically, you can call people on it and you'll hear their voice and talk to them, no matter how far away from you they are. Isn't that cool?"

"How very fascinating." you could hear his amusement through the phone.

"Oh, I just have one more thing to do! I'll come back in a moment!" you ended the call, running back to where you were before.

"I got suprised for a moment. The phone made a strange noise and I couldn't hear you anymore." he cleared his throat. He must have panicked a bit when you hung up. How cute. "Calling someone is definitely much more convenient than sending them a letter."

You just realised that he's probably been sending physical, handwritten letters to everyone up until this point which makes him even more charmingly old-timey in your eyes. How funny is that?

"Give the phone here for a moment." you requested and when he did so, you opened the camera app and turned it towards the two of you to take a selfie. You could see him inspect himself through the phone.

"I see, so it functions as a mirror, too. What a marvel."

"Well, do I have news for you. This is the camera app, and we're going to take a photo together. Now smile!" you nudged him slightly and he smiled very awkwardly and unnaturally. Oh well, you'll take it.

You snapped the photo, setting it as his lockscreen.

"Here, now you have a photo of me and you as your background!" he took the phone back, staring at your face on the screen.

"I actually have something I have to be doing right now, so I'll continue teaching you about phones later! Call me if you need anything! Oh, and I'll save your number too, don't worry!" You waved to him, running down the hallway.

"Goodbye." he said back, immediately looking back down at your picture with him. Your face is truly precious in it. He is very glad to be in possession of a photo of you.

He knew you were the right person to ask.

.

The reason he decided to buy a phone was that he felt sad because he couldn't talk to anyone without a disconnect. Ignoring the fact that most of his classmates are afraid of him, they wouldn't be able to find common ground in hobbies and conversation topics regardless.

So he thought that maybe he could start by getting a phone upon hearing students discuss phone cases and the like. Surely, understanding what the masses currently enjoy would make him more approachable.

He is eternally thankful to you for helping him out.

You're very welcoming to him and that makes him indescribably happy. One day he'll repay you with all the things you could ever want. He has the abilities to do that, after all.

Maybe he should give you something as a thank you next time you meet, actually. What did you say you enjoyed again?

That's what he thought about as he looked at his lockscreen on his bed that night. If only you saw the way he smiled at your photo.

[reareaotaku]

Good Morning

Summary: You tell Ford 'Good Morning' everyday, too scared to say anything to him even though you have a crush on him, but one day you say nothing- taking him by surprise Tw & Cw: Older Man/Young Woman, Slight Jealousy, Slight possession, Reader's in College, Stan being a dick [Though what's new] Linktree 4 the People of Palestine [If I made a sequel I would call it 'To Good at Goodbyes'] Word Ct: 2k+

Inspired by: An Unrequited Love and Good Morning Wishes [They ended it with Angst and I didn't like that]

You had never really had attractions towards older men that could be your grandfather, but Ford was different. He wasn't like other old men. He was active and full of life- He was like a young man in an old man's body and you found that attractive.

He was one of the only reasons you worked at the Mystery Shack, cause it sure wasn't for the shitty pay or Stan being a dick. Actually- He was the only reason you worked here. You sure weren't coming out of your way to see Stan. Just the thought alone made you shiver.

Though you instantly lit up when hearing a door in the back open- The one behind the vending machine [You didn't question it]. You straightened up and looked towards where you knew he was going to enter.

He had his head in one of his books, a journal perhaps? and you were quick to pipe a 'Good Morning, Mr. Pines'. He doesn't look up, but returns the gesture with a 'Good Morning, Y/n.'

You liked when Ford said your name. It made your body feel all hot and tingly, like something was twirling inside of you. It made you feel special- Even if it was nothing. It was just a name.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Stan coming in and you quickly took your eyes off his twin brother because if there was one thing you knew is that Stan would yell about you staring at Ford, which would successfully embarrass you.

For twins, they couldn't be more different. While Ford was handsome, active, charming, intelligent, respectful, etc, Stan was... well Stan. He had his own charm, sure, but nothing like Ford. Ford was perfect in your eyes.

---

You sat in your class, your mind going elsewhere when the professor was talking. You knew you should have been listening, but how could you when you knew a man like Ford. God, he was such an intelligent man. You bet he could have passed this class in just a few days. Maybe you should ask him for help in class? That could be a conversation starter... But what if he said no?

God, you wished you could just read his mind or say what he wanted to hear. Why couldn't you just be the same age? Why did you have to be over 40+ years younger than him? Your mother should of had you sooner- Or maybe your grandma? Doesn't matter, you just wanted his attention.

Speaking of attention, you wished you had been giving more of it to class, because you were startled when the professor called your name.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ms. L/n?"

You look up at him surprised, before realizing it was just you and him and everyone was gone. You shook your head, before rubbing the back of your neck, "I don't think my thoughts are worth that much."

"Well, something is occupying your mind."

"Just missing home, I guess."

"Well, try to focus more. You have so much potential and I'd hate for it to go to waste because of your attention span."

"Of course. Thank you, sir."

---

"Good morning, Mr. Pines."

Ford stops, looking towards you, "You know, Y/n, you can call me Ford. Mr. Pines makes me feel so old around you."

You blush, a stupid grin overtaking your face. "Of course, Mr. P- Ford.." You were so happy, because that was the most he had ever spoken to you. Maybe he did like you, too? No, he was probably just being friendly.

"Get that goofy-ass look off your face and get back to work," Stan yells throwing a newspaper, that you narrowly avoided.

A frown quickly overtake your face and you rolled your eyes, before responding to Stan. "You have such a way with words, Stan. It's a wonder you're not more popular with the ladies."

"That's what I've been saying for years," He replies, ignoring your sarcasm and it just causes you to roll your eyes and shake your head.

---

Watching your short interaction with his brother made Ford a little jealous. He told you that you can call him Ford, but you just call Stan by his name without any problem? Did you like Stan more than him? No, Ford shook his head. There was no way any woman would like Stan more than someone else, much less him. Besides, Ford felt a connection between the both of you, he just hopes it wasn't one sided.

---

You turned your head, smiling, expecting a customer, but it was Ford. Your customer-service smile quickly turned to a real smile. "Good afternoon, Ford."

Without missing a beat, he repeats the phase back to you, "Good after to you as well, Y/n."

You sighed, watching him leave, wishing he'd just start the conversation and finally take the initiative... Though, you doubted he felt anything for you- at least not in the same way you feel. Maybe it was just best to move on and date someone your age... Or- You looked over to Stan who was conning some poor tourist and shook your head. Yeah, someone your age to be realistic.

----

You sighed, fiddling with a pen. The Shack was empty, which wasn't common for all of Stan's scams, but you liked the quiet. Though, with your mind focused on the pen you didn't even notice that Ford passed by you- Multiple times.

While you didn't take notice of him, Ford did take notice of you and was a little confused when you didn't say anything to him. He was going to say something to you, but he didn't want to catch you in a bad mood, so he decided to let you have your day, even if he missed your little greetings.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?"

You looked over at Stan, confused on why he was being a dick. "What?"

"You're not doing anything! I'm not paying you to sit around."

"Uh, there's no one here. Besides, you don't pay me that much ingeneral- In fact, I think you're paying me below minimum wa-"

"You know what, let's just call it a night and all head out before we say something stupid," He laughs which just causes you to sigh and roll your eyes, before getting up and turning the closing sign.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow Stan... Unless you die in your sleep." You whisper the last part under your breath, hoping he didn't hear it, but he seemed to sense you were shit talking.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" You quickly shake your head after turning to him. "Nothing. Just a good night."

"Hmm.. Good night, Y/n. Don't get arrested."

"I'll try."

You left the store, heading to your car, thankful that the day was over. Now you had to head to class.

---

"What was that?"

Stan looks over to his brother, confused. "What?"

"You and Y/n. I didn't know you were close..."

"Close?" He laughs, before realizing Ford was not joking. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

"It's a good thing you don't know any better."

Stan lets out a huff, before taking a sip of his beer. "What's got your panties in a twist anyway?"

"She didn't say anything to me. She always says something to me."

"Maybe she didn't notice you."

"She noticed you."

"I'm a hard guy to miss- Unless you're my ex-wife," Stan laughs at his joke, not taking Ford seriously at all.

"Ugh. You're an idiot." Ford walks past his brother, going back to his room.

"Don't go fucking my workers, Ford!" Stan yells at him, but Ford chooses to ignore him.

---

You watched the clock, thrilled when it finally hit five and it was your chance to leave. You hadn't seen Ford all day, which had surprised you, but you were glad. You knew you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together if you were around him.

You go to reach for your bag, only for the strap to break and all your books to fall out. You curse under your breath going to reach for them, when you see someone beat you to it.

"How to Be Sort of Happy in Engineering School?"

You blush, taking the book from him. "Uh, it's stupid."

"I don't think it's stupid. I didn't know you had a passion for engineering."

"Eh, my dad's an engineer and he wants me to follow in his footsteps."

He hums, grabbing your other books and putting them on the table. "Well, what would you want to do?"

"What... do I want to do? I don't know... No one has ever asked... But, if I had to choose, maybe be like you."

Ford feels his throat tighten and a blush overcome his face. It felt weird for you to say such a thing, especially since you were ignoring him the past. Speaking of which, Ford decides now was the perfect time to confront you.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" You looked at him confused where the question came from. It was totally out of left field.

"You've been acting... different. I feel like you've been avoiding me or something. Maybe it's just me."

"Uh, it's nothing- Just school is on my mind a lot so I guess I can be... uh airheaded?" You tilt your head, not feeling that you were expressing your thoughts right, even though he wasn't totally wrong. "It gets pretty stressful- School I mean- Not talking to you!" You awkwardly laugh and Ford just smiles, before nodding.

"Ahh, yes. Of course. My apologies."

"Don't sweat it, man."

---

Ford wasn't good with people, much less women, so he was unsure how to keep your friendship going and possibly go other ways... Besides, it still felt like you weren't truly being honest with him. Like you were purposefully ignoring him... He wondered why it bothered him so much. Like, what was the big deal, they were just words... But maybe he was used to your attention.

He sat at his table, trying to think of conversation starters, so he could talk to you again. That's when he remembered the conversation about college. It seemed that maybe you were struggling with college, especially since you didn't like your major. Maybe he should offer you assistance? Yes, that's what he would do...

But what if you took that as him mocking his intelligence? Should he be on the low about it? Like suggest helping you without being upfront?

Ford finally decides that he'll mention your school work and lead the conversation to see if you need help. He smiled at himself when he came up with the plan, deciding it was perfect with no holes.

---

A few days had passed since Ford decided that he would try and approach you to see if you needed help in school. He kept trying to start the conversation, but something always got in the way- Usually Stan. But today was the day.

He saw you about to leave when he called you back. You walk over to him, confused on what Ford needed.

"What's up, Ford?"

"Uh, you mentioned that school was stressful... Uh, you know if you need help, I'm free whenever you need me."

"Yeah? What do you know about engineering?"

He smirks, "Oh, please Y/n. I know everything."

"I believe you." You look to your car, before looking back at Ford, "If you're serious though, I would love your help. It would be great to have someone like you there. I just know it would be easier."

----

You feel strange with Ford looking over your shoulder. You were worried that you were doing something wrong. God, you'd be embarrassed if you fucked up infront of him.

"You know, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. I thought you'd need my help more."

You blush, straightening up, looking down at your work. "Oh- Uh, thank you."

"Can I ask you a question, Y/n? It might be a little weird, but I don't remember what the answer is."

"Uh, sure. Go for it."

"How old are you again?"

You look over at Ford a little confused, "Uh... 20?"

"God, I forget how young you are," Ford says. "I always think you're older than you are. I forget there's such an age difference between us, because it doesn't feel like that.

"Is... that a bad thing?" You blushed, embarrassed about him pointing out that you were so much younger than him.

He looks at you, not missing a beat. "No... It doesn't bother me. Does..." He looks away, "Uh, it bother you?"

"Not at all."

"That's good to hear."

You sigh, closing your eyes and Ford decides to make a daring move.

"Y/n."

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to come with me on one of my... adventures?"

You looked at him, wide eyed. Was he inviting you to hang out with him? Alone? Without stupid college work? "Uh- Yeah, I would love too."

"That's great. I know with you it'll be a much better experience."

"Oh, wow, I can't believe you're inviting me to hang out with you doing your fun stuff. I've always wanted to do that stuff you know?"

"Well, I wish you would have said something, because I always love the company, especially yours."

[lavender-romancer]

Push it Down

Astarion x GN Reader

Everyday it got worse, the longing stares interrupted when La’zel would curiously catch your eyeline always straying to Astarion. Or how you would always inextricably walk next to him regardless of the goal ahead. Shadowheart would often question if Astarion had to open “every lock we find” at your request. But you couldn't help it, being near him, with him was all you would think about

AN: Astarion brainrot is a real condition people. Lots of lovely fluff.

You're a squishy wizard

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

“Do you have to make your feelings so obvious that it's painful?” Shadowheart asked as you looked through some random boxes you found in what remained of moonhaven.

“Do you have to bring this up again?” You jabbed back with a smile. “I'm not ashamed of it, but I will never outright admit it.”

“Lady of Sorrows guide you, I don't know how you're able to stand with your debilitating lack of a spine.” She raised her eyebrow and you simply rolled your eyes “Here, go give these to your boy-toy.” Handing you a few thieves' tools Shadowheart walked to another side of the room and continued looting.

You scampered outside, only realising when you were in front of Astarion how desperate it must have looked to run up to him like a dog wagging its tail excitedly. He was unlocking a chest that was one in a big group La'zel and Karlach had put together for him to deal with.

“Here,” you held out the tools with a smile that was much too big for such a small token.

“Thank you, darling.” He smiled up at you. “You're looking particularly overjoyed, what's got you so energetic?”

“Uh… looting.” You never were good at lying.

“Thank the Gods you never became a politician because your inability to deceive is one of your greatest qualities.” He opened the chest he had been working on.

“I suppose. But I wish I was better at more things like that, it just makes me so nervous to not be honest.” You fidgeted with your hands.

“Well, for starters you need to be better at improvising, it is adorable to see you try and lie to anyone and fail miserably. I'm convinced you should just be completely honest and people might not believe you.” Standing up he brushed the dust off his trousers and you were now face to face. Given, a few steps apart but it still made you smile and your feet shuffle anxiously.

“The tadpole has definitely made me better at lying, you have to at least admit that.” You were practically beaming, staring at him in awe.

“Still, you carry most of your emotions in your eyes and your inability to stop smiling. You'll get there eventually my friend, probably, I mean probably not but it's very sweet that you continue to try. Anyways, we should head back to camp for the evening I am positively spent.” Astarion walked past you to pick up his backpack and you internally groaned.

It was so deeply embarrassing when you couldn't keep your emotions hidden. A problem you had usually put down to anxiousness, but realistically it was just something you had to learn to live with. You were an open book with almost no air of mystique about you. Maybe that was why Astarion seemed so utterly uninterested in seeking anything but friendship or a quick night of passion.

As you lay in your tent, you conjured a mage hand to throw books at you to try and practice your telekinesis but it was going dreadfully. Whilst your magic was growing back to it's former strength before the tadpole you were still plagued by poor reaction times to basically anything. One quite powerful throw from the conjured hand hit your arm and you yelped, sure that it would leave a bruise.

“What mischief are you up too now?” A voice suddenly asked, distracting you from the task at hand as a book hit you square in the face.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, dismissing the mage hand and rubbing your nose.

“Are you trying to be agile again? You know how that ended up last time.” Astarion joked as he entered your tent and sat down opposite you.

A funny but painful memory entered your mind when you had tried to climb over a very small wall to surprise some goblins and had instead ended up on your back in front of them. If falling over in front of some goblins wasn't bad enough, you had also slipped in grease that was extremely easy to avoid alerting the whole horde to your party's location. The bollocking you got from La'zel after that encounter made you promise to work on your ability to not be “such a fucking Wizard” whatever that meant.

“No, surprisingly I was failing at something else.” You quipped back at him, “anyways, did you want to feed or-”

“No, well yes but, I wanted to talk to you.” He licked his lips absentmindedly and seeing the slight glint of his fangs off the light of your candle made your eyes grow wider. You never knew you'd have a thing for vampires…

“Oh! Do uhm, talk away.” You cringed at your inability to string a sentence together.

“I- look. I know that I am beautiful and wonderful darling, but have you been looking at me slightly differently lately?” he asked, you could almost sense that he was nervous but you weren't sure why.

“What do you mean?” You responded with your eyes fixated on your bedroll on the floor as the alarm bells rang in your head.

“With more longing behind your eyes?” You hadn't noticed that same longing in his eyes which was often present in your gaze.

“Who- I- why did you get that impression?” You fumbled through your words and began fiddling with your robe.

“Oh, I…” he trailed off and you finally looked up, sensing his dejected tone you cocked your head.

“You sound disappointed.” Your tone was soft in an attempt to stop him from running away from the conversation.

“Disappointed? Darling if I wanted you I could most certainly have you.” Having returned to his snarky sense of security you frowned.

“Is that why you seem so annoyed? Because I rejected you before?” Your mind went back to drinking red wine with him, the sour taste filling your nose all over again. It wasn't that you didn't want him, you just didn't want the first time you could spend the night with him to be clouded with alcohol and regret. Maybe it had bruised his ego but there were so many reasons to try to let your bond grow overtime.

“You think that wounded me? I have laid with thousands and I'll lay with thousands more before I am hurt by that!” He exclaimed but you could see the hurt in his eyes that he struggled to hide.

“I didn't want it to be like that. Something that you might feel like was a mistake, a drunken mishap you'd rather forget. I didn't- I don't want you to think I did it because I did not want it. Under different circumstances things would have been different for me.” Clasping your hands together you tried to reach his gaze but it was so accusatory that it was making your heart pound.

“I- I don't think I've ever been rejected as tactfully as you did.” Astarion almost laughed with a far-away look in his eyes.

“It didn't feel genuine and I couldn't allow myself to be swept up in all of it knowing that we weren't on the same page with our feelings about one another.” Smiling sadly you looked at the book that had previously hit you in the face, pushing it to the side you moved a bit closer to him. “I'm sorry that you felt like you had to do that, that night I mean. Correct me if I'm wrong, please.”

“I'm not sure how you know me so well that it's almost concerning.” His voice sounded strained as he departed from his snarky performative notes.

“You've become my favourite distraction through all of this shit we've dealt with. I really like being around you, it will be a shame when it all comes to an end when we get to Baldurs Gate.” your voice didn't show your true sadness but your eyes certainly did and Astarion could tell.

“I was hidden for so many years within those city walls, imprisoned and kept as a loyal pet before the nautiloid. A grim reality was the only way to escape the even worse life I was living and… I never thought I'd make friends let alone feel connected to someone. But you, you're thoughtful and sweet and respectful and too perceptive for your own good but so silly and honestly so bad as hiding that it's hilarious. Finding someone who understands you is a great gift and I would not like to squander it.” Astarion reached out his hand and it shook slightly as he showed his true vulnerability. You looked from his hand to his face, it was genuine and really from everything you could gather, it seemed like he was being the most honest he'd ever been with you.

“You want to stay together?” Your voice was so hopeful as your head told you that you were an idiot.

“Yes. You fool. Was that not clear. Now hold my hand so we're not both fools.” He rolled his eyes and you hurriedly held his hand. Your clamminess was immediately obvious given his hand was ridiculously cold. “God you mortals are always sweaty aren't you.” He gave you a cheeky smile and you had to laugh or you'd descend into an anxiety ridden madness.

“Do you want to stay here tonight? I would enjoy a cuddle.” You asked.

“Just a cuddle Darling?” He flirted but there was still that look behind his eyes that was there after the tiefling party. The look you had come to understand was the dogma drilled into him to seduce, sleep with and then sacrifice all his conquests. Sex wasn't the same in Astarion's head as it was in yours but you didn't mind, it wasn't important to you.

“Just a cuddle.” You smiled in a way that you hoped was supportive and whilst he looked surprised he didn't seem disappointed. “Come here,” you lay down on the pillows and invited him to chest.

Whilst tentative he rested his head on your chest and slowly placed his hand on your arm. You without warning wrapped your arms around him in a squeeze of a hug that would probably suffocate someone who wasn't already dead. But he seemed to appreciate it as he nuzzled under your chin and his body began to relax. You stayed like that for a while until you began to snore and Astarion peeled himself from your embrace. He sat up and started to read, every so often glancing down at you. How an earth had he allowed himself to fall for a Wizard?

Astarion Taglist:

@anukulee

[drconstellation]

The Assistant Book Seller

Edit 1 Dec 2023 - added missing information on the "ribbon pattern."

Edit: 3 Dec 2023 - correct information about middle pattern from creator

GABRIEL: Greetings! I'm Jim! It's short for James, but I don't need to keep telling everyone that. I'm an assistant book seller.

I'm sorry. Before I do anything else, I need to apologize for something I need to write further in. I didn't plan to write it, I just kind of bumped into it and, well, I can't ignore it. So...sorry. It's said. Forgive me for what needs to be done.

Although he arrived with nothing but a cardboard box and Rodney the Stunt Fly, Aziraphale made sure Jim was clothed in appropriate raiment while under his protection. We'll forgive him that he took a step back about, oh, fifty years or so to the 1970's, as Jim's overall look is a nod to the famous old sitcom "Open All Hours." So if he looks a little bit out of place, or, a little bit familiar, even, that's why.

While we are used to seeing angels in overcoats, it's Jim's vest that is the particular feature here. But I will take a moment to comment on the overcoat - not just the colour but its lapels. Aziraphale has obviously given him a colour with an earthly connection and one that indicate that he has bought Jim under his protection, but the lapels look quite neutral, with one up and one down. (Muriel is the same in their Inspector uniform, btw) This is the first indication they are between two things at the moment.

Onto the vest.

There is so, so much work and thought put into this vest! It was a one-off commission for the show, and the creator, Sandy Higgins, has said she is not allowed to give away the final design pattern. I have tried to contact her, and I'm waiting for a reply, so in the mean time I thought I would ask my keen knitter of a sister-in-law about one of the patterns I'm not sure about. "Well, that's Fair Isle knitting," she said, but she knew nothing about the individual line pattern I was interested in. Hmm, I kind of know that already, its in the notes that are guiding me for this meta, but hey, why not do a broader search and see what comes up?

So once I got back home I did. "Fair Isle knitting patterns" hmm...Wikipedia page for starters...what on *earth* is that at the bottom of the page...? YOU ARE. FRIKKING. KIDDING ME!!!!!!!

"See also: Gumbys"

oh ffs

I am so sorry that needs must make me mention Monty Python yet again, but here we are. And we must mention them, because this link is just too...unbelievably, deliciously good.

If you aren't familiar with the Monty Python catalogue, and don't recognize the mention of Gumbys, they were a set of characters that dressed and spoke in a certain way but the main points to take away were they wore woolen vests in the Fair Isle knitted style and their catch-phrase was - wait for it - "My brain hurts!"

I think we've heard that somewhere before?

CROWLEY: When you first arrived, you said you were here because they were planning to do 'Something Terrible' to you. So you remembered it then. Remember it now. GABRIEL: It hurts to remember. My head isn't built for that.

Right. Now we've got that out of the way...back to the serious stuff.

The colours used in the vest are not your typical angel colours. There is a base of angelic off-white and there are some bits of purple for his royalty around the shoulder area - sometimes you need to look carefully for it. Otherwise it is dominated by vintage shades of red and green. Well. Who's an agent of change driven by love, then?

The horizontal stripe pattern is partly to remind us of the classic biblical robes with stripes that ran along them, much like the style of Crowley's black and red robe in the Job minisode, but is also part of the traditional Fair Isles pattern work. And each row only has two colours, but up around the shoulder area we do see purple start to sneak in as a third colour.

On to the incorporated symbols! I'm going to go from bottom to top.

On the lowest two we feature Crowley and Aziraphale. We have Crowley's demon satyr tail from the Good Omens logo on the lowest stripe - the double-headed arrow.

The next stripe is Aziraphale, with a variation of the classic OXO pattern ("hugs and kisses.") The X is meant to represent his angel wings, and the O is modified to mimic the "o" with a halo in the Good Omens logo. I've highlighted all three in the image on the right.

The third row up is a Sumerian Star pattern that represents one of the flowers associated with Gabriel, the lily. They are supposed to represent the purity of Mary, mother of Jesus, as he had one in his hand when he visited her during the Annunciation.

The row above that is what I believe to be a Byzantium pattern, and is included to show "an Angel's ability to be timeless."

The next three rows are still under a bit of a question mark as I write this. I plan to come back and edit it in if I find the answer.

The bottom of the three is the Duke of Buccleuch pattern, "to celebrate the long and necessary contribution that the cottage industry of hand knitted items."

The middle one - ? (perhaps you, the reader, know? It looks like a spiralling ribbon if I stand back, but that isn't sparking any connections, either.)

Edit: @noneorother tells me in a reblog (below) that this pattern represents the shoelace from the magic incantation Aziraphale uses "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace." So it is ribbon-like! This then points to the Second Coming, as it the shoelace references the end of the book, and the last paragraph of the book references Yeats poem "The Second Coming" as well as the novel 1984. To me it is then also telling us there is a cycle occurring, or a cycle that needs to be renewed. This fits in with some other clues other meta-writers have been picking up.

Edit 2: Turns out none of that was correct - I heard back from the creator herself and it's actually the double-ended satyr tail pattern again! It just seems to make a bit of an illusion of a ribbon or shoelace.

The pattern below is a modified OXO pattern.

The top one looks like two rams horns facing each other. A hollowed out rams horn can be used as a trumpet, and is known as a shofar in Jewish religion. Gabriel was traditionally known to carry a trumpet.

The ancient meander pattern would be recognized by most people, included as another classic timeless pattern found all over the world. For some it symbolizes eternity and endless flow.

The wheels here appear to be Michael's ophanim wheels, that would have eyes around the rims.

The hourglass is to remind us that time is running out. Memento mori - "Remember that you die." It is a major theme in both series.

Right up high, just before we lose the rest of the vest inside the overcoat, we get a glimpse of a large diamond-shaped icon. I wonder if this is another stylized set of angel wings, like we saw in the Job minisode on Aziraphale's golden collar.

To finish off the outfit, he is wearing dark gray trousers with sneakers! I'm sure that's so he could keep sneaking up on Aziraphale in the shop, haha. His shirt seems a little too large for him and the tie is knotted too high and is not settled along his centerline. It's all at odds with his previous neat and sharp appearance as Supreme Archangel Gabriel.

I'd like to say a big thank you to @aduckwithears for helping me with information on the vest and finding the creator's other social media sites. You can see their two posts about it here and here.

[denaliwrites]

Road to Hell

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Of all the subjects Crowley thought he might walk in on you researching in the bookshop, demonology was probably at the bottom of the list.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Crowley is a dick (affectionate).

"What're you reading today?" Crowley asked, towering over you with a contemplative look. You lifted the book for him to see and in return he offered a shocked choking sound in the back of his throat. "Demonology, huh? What... inspired you to read that?"

He hadn't told you anything about him and Aziraphale being a demon and an angel, respectively. As far as he knew, Aziraphale hadn't broached the topic with you, either. To him, there was absolutely no reason for you to be reading about anything even remotely connected to his or Aziraphale's status as supernatural beings.

Yet here you were.

Reading a book on demonology.

You shrugged in response to his question, bringing the book back down to your lap to read comfortably. "I'd never checked out the occult section before, so I decided to read something from there and this was the most interesting looking book on the whole shelf."

"Ah, right." That did, to Crowley's immense relief, make sense. You'd read at least one book from nearly every section in the bookshop -- why wouldn't you, at some point, venture into the occult?

"Can't help but wonder how accurate it is, though," you mused aloud. "Pretty sure we've all collectively decided that demonic possessions are all just mentally ill people being misunderstood and abused by the church, right? Or I guess sometimes maybe people seeking attention? So how much of this is, like... considered true, I guess?"

"Do you... believe in demons?" Crowley asked carefully.

"Not really. I mean, I feel like if they were real, we'd have more evidence than just... the church saying so? Like, surely atheists and Satanists would've met a ton of demons by now, but I don't see any atheists or Satanists ever talking about meeting demons."

Crowley had to admit that was a fair cop. Maybe a little... small-minded, at least cosmically speaking, but you were but a human. That could be excused.

"What if they were real?" he asked, coming to sit on the arm of the chair you occupied. "What if you met a demon? Knew a demon, even?"

You made a sound at the back of your throat that sounded an awful lot like the one he made. "I'd have a lot of things I needed to reconsider, for starters."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well," you started, closing the book and turning so that you were facing him. "If demons were real, then I think the next logical step would be that angels were real, and if angels were real then the next step from that point would be that God's real."

He rocked back slightly to better look at you, clicking his tongue curiously. "Is that so bad, really?"

You sighed dramatically. It was a sound he loved -- it usually came before something remarkably human. Something remarkably You. "Anthony Janthony Cranthony," you lamented, "I cannot ever, under any circumstances, let my parents know that I regret not going to church more."

Anthony Janthony Cranthony? Why had you called him that? Of all things, to go with Anthony Janthony Cranthony...

He supposed that wasn't really the point to what you were saying. Something about your parents and church, though, that was the point.

"Not sure why they'd have to know," he said casually with a shrug.

Your eyes widened in shocked realization. "Oh, fuck, you're right! They'd never have to know. You're brilliant," you said, to him -- you'd called him brilliant! He beamed at that. "Going to Hell anyway, if all that were real, may as well add 'disrespecting my parents' to my list of sins."

Oh.

"Why do you think you'd go to Hell, darling?"

"It's not like I've been living a pious life, y'know?" you said, blinking up at him. "I curse, I've fucked out of wedlock, I'm reading all about demons and witchcraft and shit. I don't believe in God? I'm pretty sure that's one of the big no-nos."

It was his turn to blink, but his was followed up with a laugh. "Oh, love, God does not care about any of those things. Trust me."

"Oh, God, are you a Christian? Have you been this whole time? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend--"

"No, no, nothing like that. I..."

How did he tell you? Should he even tell you? He was sure Aziraphale might have something to say on the matter, but right now he couldn't be fucked, because you were here, looking up at him so innocently, so adoringly.

"What is it, Crowley?" And you sounded so concerned, so ready to take him into your arms and comfort him and apologize for a crime you hadn't even committed.

"I'm a demon."

The words tumbled forth from his lips before he could stop himself, and they hovered in the air for several silent and tense moments after, where all you did was stare at him.

And then you laughed -- and he wished he could laugh too. Hell, he wished he could hear even a trace of joy in your laugh. But it was all nerves and fear, like you weren't sure if this was some sick joke or if he was delusional.

When his expression didn't change, when he didn't yell out "sike!" or "gotcha!," your laugh died and then you just looked scared of him.

It nearly broke him, because if this was how you reacted before proof, how would you react when he showed you the truth?

But you didn't run away, so he carefully removed his glasses and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Yours were locked onto the yellow irises, the slitted pupils that contracted and dilated at will.

He could tell you wanted to deny the reality of them -- that you wanted to write them off as contacts, but they wouldn't let you, because contacts couldn't dilate.

The only other things he could do -- well, within the confines of the bookshop, were show you his wings or turn into a snake. He wasn't huge on the latter option, at least not right now -- it definitely put him at a disadvantage, made him easier to discorporate.

So, instead, he moved to a stand. And his wings fanned out as you watched, and then, he figured, you'd run out the door screaming, never to be seen again. He hoped you lived well. He closed his eyes so that he didn't have to watch you walk away.

You got up -- he could hear the rustling of fabric, the relieved groan of the chair, the book falling onto the cushion. He expected the little bell above the door to signal your departure at any moment.

Instead, he felt your hands on his face, pulling him nearer to you. His eyes opened, stared into yours. The fear had gone, replaced by unabashed curiosity and deep, untamed love.

He expected many things to come out of that lovely mouth of yours. So God is real? Am I going to Hell? I don't want to go to Hell! What did I do to deserve going to Hell???

(You weren't going to Hell -- but after the initial question, people tended to panic and vomit the others out uncontrollably.)

He expected those questions. A handful of a select few others. He did not anticipate what you actually asked --

"Do you have a cool demon name?"

"A... Sorry, a what?"

"You know... Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belial. What's your demon name?"

"O-oh... No... no 'cool' demon name, I'm afraid. Just... Just Crowley..."

He hadn't expected to be embarrassed and doubly hadn't expected to see a beaming smile on your face.

"I think Crowley's the coolest demon name, personally."

He could see in your eyes that you meant it -- and that made him smile.

"Isn't it just?" he asked with a relieved laugh.

"Now I gotta know what all you've done as a demon. I mean -- how old are you?"

"Old as the universe, darling."

He could see the moment your brain started trying to process that unfathomable information, and he could also see the moment it gave up. You moved on as if nothing happened, but Crowley took a moment to appreciate he wouldn't have to miracle your memories away before your brain went into nuclear meltdown.

"Why aren't you in Hell?"

"It's dreadfully boring."

"Why are you here?"

"I just think humans are neat... and your lot is very good at making booze."

"Have you done anything cool as a demon?"

"I met Shakespeare, I stopped some Nazi spies, I tempted Eve, I stopped Armageddon..."

"You what!?"

"Oh, yeah..." He made that sound in his throat. You copied it, seemingly from instinct. He wasn't even sure you noticed that you did it. "Long story, but Aziraphale and I convinced the Antichrist to just... not do the whole ending the world thing."

"Who's Aziraphale?"

"Oh. Right. Mr. Fell."

"... Mr. Fell? This Mr. Fell?" You motioned to the bookshop at large and Crowley nodded. "Is he a demon too?"

Crowley laughed -- an uproarious, barking laugh, that lasted much longer than was strictly necessary.

"Oh, you better not let him hear that," he said once he'd calmed down.

"... So he's not a demon?" you mumbled, and Crowley realized he'd accidentally made you feel bad.

He took one of your hands in his and guided it away from his face so that he could kiss the palm. "No, darling, he's not." He kissed your palm again. "He's an angel."

"I'm sorry -- he's a what?"

"An angel, of course. Really, like he could be anything else."

Nothing against him, of course, but he very much was what he was.

"So why are an ageless angel and demon wasting their time with me, a human who'll wither and die? Why go through that for me?"

"Well, it's not exactly our fault you weaseled your way into our lives," he said with an indignant hgk. "But now that you're here, we can't really imagine the place without you."

"I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, and I can't believe it came from a demon."

"Don't let the angel know I let you get away with calling me sweet. He'd never let me live it down."

[calliesmemes]

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

Winter of 1975

Prompt Day 2: Winter Themed Sentence Starters | Word Count: 1200 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Mentions of Childhood Trauma, Innuendo | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Gift Giving, Softness, Steve POV

"Did I ever tell you about the winter of '75?" Eddie asks, curling up on the couch next to Steve, tucking his feet under him.

Steve shakes his head no, at least he doesn't think so. Or if he has, Eddie didn't word it like that.

"When you were ten?" Steve asks. 

Eddie nods, "When I was ten. My mom had died, you know, earlier that year. And my dad, well, you know."

Steve nods. He knows. He stretches his arm out, and lets Eddie curl into him.

"Well, Uncle Wayne was bound and determined to make it a good Christmas. It wasn't possible, not really, but he was gonna try his best."

Steve smiles, that sounds like Wayne. If there's anything Steve knows, it's that Wayne Munson loves Eddie. 

"Well, he took me sledding. I broke my arm. He bought a real tree. I was allergic to pine. We made hot cocoa on the stove, and I dropped it, nearly scalding my feet. Just, you know, everything that could go wrong, did. It's the Munson way," Eddie says, with a laugh. 

Steve kisses him on the head, and tries to remember what the Christmas of 1975 looked like for him. He imagines he got all the toys he wanted, and his parents hosted parties in their house that he wasn't invited to attend. Sitting on the second floor, little hands gripping the slats of the railing, just hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on, down below. Hoping to see his parents, for just a few minutes. The usual.

Those nights were always the worst. As soon as he got home from school, they'd feed him an early dinner and send him straight up to bed. And then the activity started downstairs, without him. He wonders now, as an adult, why they didn't just invite some kids? They could have still been corralled upstairs, away from the party, but he wouldn't have been all alone. Even if it was just Tommy H. That would have gone a long way to making them tolerable.

Eddie continues talking, "But Uncle Wayne kept trying. He bought me a Pet Rock," Eddie says, with a laugh. "I begged for it in the store, and it cost four dollars. He bought it and handed it over, and I opened the box. And it was a rock."

Steve laughs, he had one, too. Everybody did, he's pretty sure.

"Well, the name was pretty clear about what it was," Steve says.

"I know. I just wanted it to be something else, I guess. Something a little more lively. It was just a rock. Whoever invented that was a genius. Think of all the money they made. For rocks."

Steve smiles at him.

"But, Uncle Wayne just bought me some paints, and brushes, and told me to make it whatever I wanted it to be then."

Eddie smiles, "So I did. I gave it eyes, and some hair, and it looked a little goofy. But it had some personality."

"Like you," Steve says, hugging Eddie closer. 

Eddie just rolls his eyes, "Anyway. I loved it after that. But, I still had paint, so Uncle Wayne got me a sketchbook. And I started drawing, and then painting what I'd drawn. Like my own coloring book, but filled with everything I liked, and nothing for little babies," Eddie says, laughing. "The fridge was full of weird shit that was coming out of my brain."

Steve nods. Weird shit is still coming out of Eddie's mind, and he loves it all. Every last thing. He might not understand it all, but he likes that Eddie is curious about the world around him. That he has opinions. Strong opinions, sometimes, sure. Even wrong opinions in Steve's mind. But opinions. Eddie wants to talk about the things that run through his mind, and Steve wants him to, always willing to listen.

"Anyway. I learned to draw. To paint. To love art, because of that Pet Rock. I designed all my own tattoos. I did the Hellfire logo. It gave me an outlet I didn't know I needed or wanted."

Steve kisses his bare shoulder, hoping he'll continue. He loves to hear him talk. 

"Well, all that said," Eddie says, pulling a wrapped box out from under the coffee table, and handing it to Steve. 

It's not Christmas, not yet.

"It's not Christmas yet," Steve argues.

"It's not a Christmas present," Eddie says.

"The wrapping paper says otherwise," Steve teases, and Eddie laughs, pinching his side. It is wrapped in red, with a heavy fabric bow that there's no way Eddie did.

"Who wrapped this?" Steve follows up, needing to know. Because it damn well wasn't Eddie.

"Excuse you? You don't think I could wrap this?" Eddie asks, acting very affronted by this accusation.

Steve just raises one eyebrow.

"Erica did," Eddie mutters, "just open it."

So, Steve opens it, carefully. And when he pulls back the tissue paper, it's a painting of the two of them. From a million years ago. Walking through the forest. But it's not dark, and red, like it really was that night. Here, it's lush and green, with the sun shining overhead, casting gorgeous shadows all through the trees. 

It's stunning. 

Steve meets Eddie's eyes, "It's beautiful."

"Well, it's only beautiful because you are," Eddie says, and Steve blushes. Just a little. Even after all these years.

"When did you have time to do this?" Steve asks, because he definitely hasn't seen Eddie working on a canvas lately. He'd have noticed that. The mess alone. The mugs of dirty, paint stained water. The countertop lined with drying brushes.

He's seen no evidence of any of that. 

Eddie smiles, "I did it at Wayne's. During our Sunday morning breakfasts. We talked while I painted. And yes, I cleaned up my own messes," Eddie says, dryly.

Steve just smiles at him.

"It's really good, Eddie. Really, really good. You could do this, if you wanted to. For a living."

Eddie just laughs, "We definitely don't have the luxury of me painting with the hopes that I'll sell some of them. And that's okay. Maybe someday," Eddie says.

Steve knows he's right. They aren't exactly rolling in money, but maybe someday they'll be better off, and Eddie will be able to just stay home, doing something he loves. Wouldn't that be something?

"You know, I do have other ideas of things to paint…" Eddie trails off, and the glint in his eye means he's definitely up to no good.

"Oh lord, what?" Steve asks, suspicious of that look in his eye.

"How do you feel about posing nude for me?" Eddie asks, giving him the eyes.

Steve barks out a laugh. Sure. He'll pose nude for Eddie. It's not like he's shy or anything. Eddie has definitely seen it all before.

He only has one question.

"What are you gonna do with it once you're done?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrow, imploring for the truth.

Eddie just grins, that evil grin of his, and Steve shakes his head. Oh well. He definitely knew what he was getting into once he decided to spend his life with Eddie Munson. 

Notes: Pet Rocks were, in fact, all the rage for the Christmas of '75. A the guy who made them made, like, a million dollars. 🪨 💰

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

If you want to see more of my entries from this challenge, they are in my tag right here!

[astrolavas]

Wait that hunter and willow struggle with vulnerabilty essay you mentioned... Hand it over 🫵

KXJSK thank you for enabling my brainrot, let's GO 🫡

okay so, for starters, we all know both hunter and willow tend to hide their vulnerability, push down their feelings and repress a lot, but it's actually super interesting how they do it in completely different ways and for such different reasons.

i've already written one essay about hunter's tendency to do that here, but that was a while ago, so let's refresh it up a little bit with season 3.

hunter lived his entire life in the emperor's coven, as a magicless witch at that, isolated from everyone and manipulated. he got used to ignoring and hiding how he felt, because showing vulnerability in the coven was seen as weakness, and showing his real emotions could have genuinely very very bad consequences for him. especially with him having no magic, he was already disrespected and seen as lesser by everyone (for example, the covenheads) but he yearned to be respected, to be treated well, equally; so he couldn't afford to show any vulnerability there. and when it came to showing negative feelings near belos... well. that especially had the potential to take a dark turn really fast; to provoke belos to do something. it was genuinely dangerous for him to express his emotions, it wasn't safe for him at all. he could NOT do it.

his golden guard persona also comes into play here and it's SO interesting how he uses it. masking (in a literal, psychological AND metaphorical sense); using it to feel braver, to act more confident. taking on a role of the emperor's trusted right-hand man instead of the lonely kid that he was. all this... well, surrounded by that hurtful mentality and hostile coven environment, he had to do it; to be more respected, to be able to do things that he had to do, to actually FUNCTION. it was a necessity for his survival.

but here's the thing, he likes to think of himself as a more of a practical/logical/rational thinker, and he IS in general, that is true, but he actually DOES act based on his emotions and moral compass quite often. he's also really good at reading and analyzing people, and immediately getting them. he's oblivious to some things but overall he's emotionally smart, and very very insightful and perceptive....... it might be sth he's naturally skilled at, but he also definitely had to learn it; had to know how to read belos' mood and probably learnt all the little things he had to watch out for on some days, all the little signs to stop talking or look away. all that was, once again, for his own safety. BUT OKAYKXJSKK we're accidentally going off course here so let's go back slightly- hunter is also VERY expressive (which makes sense considering he wore a mask most of the time. ............. also hyper-expressive autism #real #so true—) so oftentimes his emotions are actually (no matter how hard he tries to hide or deny them) well visible on his face, before he manages to school them; although that also depends on the exact emotion he's feeling, some are more visible than others. so this is interesting, how he simultaneously automatically represses/hides some of his feelings and manifests them as something else but also feels everything so intensely and is such an open book based on his initial facial expressions. both of these facts coexist.

so, vulnerability. we already know hunter has trouble expressing his emotions at times. he loves to pretend he's okay when he clearly isn't; and it takes a LOT for him to open up to someone. he only really lets himself be truly emotionally vulnerable next to people he fully trusts and feels safe with, it doesn't come to him with ease.

that's why his scene with luz in the forest shack's basement is so important. that ENTIRE scene, actually. we can really see how much they've grown to trust each other, how safe they feel in each other's presence. what they had going on with their secret-keeping was not really fully healthy at the time, because they kept comforting each other from their VERY similar perspectives/stances, which just further locked in their mentality of "oh they'll hate both of us when they find out our secrets"; they were ensuring each other's fears by relating to each other; it was a circle. but nevertheless, they still cared about each other and have grown to care about each other even more throughout the few months.

here, hunter managed to admit that he was scared. he felt comfortable enough to admit his vulnerability like that to luz since they've grown closer and truly trusted each other with this. he's grown SO much.

and then... the crying scene. i am not exaggerating when i say this is SUCH an important moment for hunter's character, as well as a perfect insight into his dynamic with luz. especially since the thing that jumpstarted his cry was luz telling him he's family now, and that she wants to ensure he's safe too... all his emotions coming to the surface, him finally not managing to keep stuff in, allowing himself to be vulnerable like that next to someone, actually crying and letting it out instead of holding it in or distancing himself in order to go through it alone... it was a big step for him, and it perfectly illustrated just how much he's grown. and the way luz responded to it was also so thoughtful. she was extremely tired and depressed herself, but she still showed worry. she knew hunter needed space to let it all out and avoided crowding him, since jumping at him with worry and questions and hugs would only make it worse and freak him out, but she initiated a delicate half-hug after a moment, non-verbally expressing her care.

but moving on!

now, let's focus on hunter post-flapjack's death.

it's a big, traumatic event that affects and shakes him a LOT. he doesn't feel good, he doesn't feel happy, and that predictably results in the same thing as always..... hunter repressing his negative feelings and masking them as anger. prioritizing helping others and focusing on a mission at hand. not being sure if he's okay or how he feels or how to express what he feels when someone asks.

this is the behaviour we've ALWAYS seen from him in such situations. in season 2a, when he's just generally unhappy even if he doesn't realize it, and appears as angry and irritable... and in labyrinth runners, when he lives alone while dealing with serious life events; distances himself from everything and everyone, and then tries to act as if nothing had happened, and isn't sure HOW to express/talk abt his feelings, prefers to focus on someone/something else instead. andddd at the end of thanks to them after flapjack's death! when he immediately asks if everyone else is okay and jumps in to comfort luz and focuses on taking belos down; on a task. JUST... AUGHH! he prefers to push through his feelings cuz it's a defense mechanism, the same one he's been using in the past; in the coven. it allowed him to survive, and such instinct is not something that's easy to abandon.

so, this entire pattern is so, so clear in how he acts in for the future too. he tries to mask his grief and sadness with anger and coldness. he keeps pushing people (and palismen) away, distancing himself from others, acting irritable, focusing solely on the mission at hand, just wanting to find belos immediately; thinking about literally anything but flapjack or what happened just a few hours prior, cuz it hurts too much to think about it. the sadness and other emotions that accompany him as a result of flapjack's death keep sneaking up on him in random moments, but he fights not to let them through fully. he cannot allow himself to break down right now.

but then, he's alone for a moment, and he allows himself to feel some vulnerability here. he's overwhelmed by what's happening and misses flapjack. and, as always, he doesn't know what to say. he feels everything so intensely inside but he has no idea how to express that on the outside, he doesn't know how to put everything that he thinks and feels into proper words; how to accurately communicate everything he wants to communicate to gus and willow. he struggles with that.

but just like willow had her arc of repression (to be talked about in a second) and finally realized she can rely on other people too and allowed herself to show feelings and vulnerability instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out, hunter similarly let himself show some of that vulnerability to his friends. in the span of that moment, driven by pure instinct and his love for his friends, he managed to put what he'd always wanted to say into words.

he also realized that flapjack is always going to be a part of him in a way (both literally and metaphorically), even when he's not actually there, and it brought him some comfort at last... it didn't heal him or got rid of his grief ofc, there's a long journey ahead of him, but it helped him with the first step of dealing with grief and accepting what had happened.

now, when we compare how he is with feelings right now to how he was at the beginning of the series, he's truly grown so much. he's always gonna somewhat struggle with expressing his emotions and vulnerability, but now that he's surrounded by people who care about him, whom he trusts with his life, who he doesn't fear being vulnerable around, it's going to be so much easier for him. of course, there are always going to be instances where something bad happens and he represses again; his defense mechanism and trauma response aren't going to just instantly disappear like that. but he has people he can be his true self around now, people he can confide in; it's going to help him a lot. and he's going to continue growing, and developing as a person.

.....yeah! okay, now... willow time!!

willow's repression arc has always been always kinda sprinkled in and hinted at throughout the duration of the series. we know she was bullied for a significant amount of time and it affected her confidence a lot, but it also made her repress and push down her feelings.

i'd say her arc almost had... two parts to it. the first one was her coming out of her shell, gaining confidence and embracing her strength. the second one: her struggle with vulnerability and repressing feelings.

meeting luz and transferring to plant track was what definitely helped her with the confidence problem. she flourished (lol) after she was allowed to embrace her interests and strengths. but what remained, was that willow saw her insecurity and emotions as her weaknesses. she even said it herself, she most of all wants to protect everyone she loves (similar to hunter actually), and all-together that resulted in her shutting herself off and just focusing on others' feelings. wanting to be reliable for her friends, seeing herself as the "strong one" in the group; the rock. the mature one.

always pretending she's okay and fine with everything, putting a smile on her face through it all. because after all, she doesn't want others to worry about her, right? (she did it for all emotions too, basically)

especially if we take into account that she was bullied and seen as inferior to others for years + her entire past with amity + just in general her history with the abomination track and the expectations from her dads regarding it, all of it was trauma for willow and she ended up with the need to hide her feelings (something she saw as her weakness/flaws/weak spots) as a coping mechanism. she hated being seen as weak, and after she gained more confidence in herself, that feeling only grew.

in for the future, we could see just how much the suppression was affecting her. she still tried to be cheerful, dependable, not bothering anyone with her own worries, trying to make others feel better. but with each next moment, every feeling of hers builds up more and more, until finally it cannot be contained anymore. and explodes.

her magic is actually also a great metaphor/illustration of her feelings suppression. whenever willow's especially feeling things, we can always see how her magic reacts too it, how her emotions manifest through it. and this scene in ftf is a great visual representation of it; how the vines slowly cover her until she's completely buried under them. how helpless she feels. man...

but at last, she allows herself to let her feelings out. she's assured that she's not any worse for it, told that reliable people can rely on others as well. she lets all her worries and fears and thoughts and vulnerability finally show, instead of letting it all consume her from the inside out. it's such a turning moment for her. because from then on, she's shown to genuinely express more emotions and not depend entirely on herself, now that she's aware it doesn't make her any less strong. she's assured none of her friends are gonna think any less of her, or to see her as weak, and that's good.

actually, another thing i wanna bring up is willow being saved and bridal-carried by hunter in this scene.

could she have saved herself? yes, most likely, just like she did in any sport in a storm, when she was still suppressing any weaknesses of hers and relying on herself only. if hunter hadn't teleported to save her, she'd probably do just that. but this little moment is actually such a good illustration of how now that she's allowing herself to depend on others too (instead of just be dependable), she allows herself to be saved. when she needs it.

see, this is actually the thing i've seen lots of people confused about because "willow is independent, she wouldn't want to be saved" and... that actually confuses me, because it truly misses the very core of her character arc.

the point is that she CAN take care of herself and she wants others (especially people who see her as weak) to know that and to not underestimate her abilities (just like we've seen in labyrinth runners, for example). but, at the same time, she also wasn't allowing herself to take her guard off or to be saved by others for a long time exactly for that same reason; because she didn't want to be seen as weak anymore. she wanted to be seen as only strong and independent, to the point where she deemed any weakness of hers as bad.

like, that's the entire point of her character, her repressing negative feelings then finally allowing herself to open up and be more vulnerable (+ realizing it doesn't make her any less strong). she doesn't hate being saved necessarily, she hates being seen as inferior and weak and incompetent. for example, willow hated when amity constantly tried to save her in labyrinth runners instead of letting her take care of things herself or acknowledging her strengths because it made her think amity thought she was not capable of protecting herself. because it was amity saving her from the smallest things. it made her feel disrespected, as if she was called weak right to her face.

now... hunter never saw willow as weak, ever, and he knows perfectly well that she can take care of herself. he respects her and likes her in her entirety, both for her strength as well as her softer, more vulnerable side. BUT in moments when he thinks she does need protecting or saving, he doesn't hesitate to do so. and now that willow has let herself be more vulnerable and realized she can let herself rely on others more, she clearly appreciates and doesn't mind it whatsoever.

the mutual trust and respect is the actual key point in hunter and willow's relationship; they both know each of them are strong and skilled and able to protect themselves, but they also know each others' vulnerabilities and want to protect each other when a situation actually calls for it. both willow and hunter want the ppl they care abt (each other included) to be safe and they will protect them when they need it, but neither of them would like... completely discredit someone's abilities to stay safe on their own. so when it comes to willow's strength complex, hunter knows when willow can take it cuz he respects her and trusts her abilities, but when she actually needs it, he'll gladly save and protect her as his priority; but not in frivolous instances when she can take care of herself. and she will do the same for him.

so yeah!

tldr; it's actually super cool how both willow and hunter repress their feelings a lot and prioritize others over themselves but it manifests in such different ways and comes from slightly different circumstances/reasonings for each of them.

willow more-so feels like she has to be the more mature one in the group, and she pretends she's okay and fine and focuses on how others are feeling instead of herself cuz she wants to be dependable and hates showing weakness or being seen as weak. whereas, hunter isn't sure how to express himself and when he feels negative things, they manifest as anger/irratibility. he prefers to focus on some productive task instead and he prefers to distance himself from others, and it also all comes down to how he grew up in the coven and how he was raised by belos. like it's... SO interesting how they both do something so similar at its core but so differently.

[violetlunette]

Practicing drawing my Yuusona. I didn't manage to catch the look of madness here but oh well.

And just for my self-indulgence (and to sort through my random thoughts), here are some fun tidbits.

*Yuu’s skin is covered in marks and scars, adding to his frightening appearance. This is for several reasons: For starters, he’s always falling or crashing into something. Two, he doesn’t believe in safety precautions and thus always gets caught in the crossfire of his experiments when they go wrong. Third, whenever he breaks a bone he’ll cut open his skin and fix before mending his skin with stitches or fire. (Fun fact: During the Savanaclaw book he tried to fix Trey’s leg but the other loudly refused.)

**If the bone is beyond repair, he’ll remove and replace it.

**The cuts on his skin are from his surprisingly massive collection of buzz-saws

*It’s unknown if Yuu had a high pain tolerance or if he’s just become accustomed to the pain he’s in due to his self-abuse and lack of care.

**He doesn’t see what he does as self-abuse but do-it-yourself medical care.

*Yuu’s a decent doctor and inventor, self-taught in both through observation and trial and error. He’s currently teaching Grim this stuff.

*He collects bottle caps and likes orange soda best.

*He sucks at numbers. All his experiments are mostly guesswork and eyeballing it.

*He’s a fairly decent cook, however, his prep work is a bit extreme as he has no qualms about cutting and gutting his food in front of guests.

*He has a little garden but due to Ramshackle’s ghost energy all the food is alive like the Muppet food. Grim doesn’t like eating them as the veggies are either pleading for their life before cooked or give specific instructions for their demise. Yuu could care less as food is food. As of late it's been fighting back.

*Before his garden, Yuu fed himself and Grim by digging the trash or hunting in the surrounding woods. Trey discovered this and started sending Ace and Deuce over with leftovers.

*Yuu has trouble reading and writing despite his intellect as he wasn’t able to attend school as a youth. This is why he struggles in Trien’s class.

*All his clothes have a raggy, faded appearance as they’re clothing other students threw away. Others tried to fix them up but his activities keep ruining them.

*He's been playing with electricity since coming to wonderland with is how he accidentally started bringing skeletons to life.

*Students tried to bully him at first but backed off as they got the idea that bullying a kid who carries a buzz-saw on him and was madder than a hatter wasn’t a good move. They started avoiding him after that.

[edenmemes]

you (season 4) starters

part i & ii.

❝ love tests us. i’ve been tested more than most. ❞ ❝ love chooses us. the only thing we can control is what we do, how far we go. ❞ ❝ you know, i think i...i think i understand you. ❞ ❝ it’s not redemption if it’s for selfish reasons. ❞ ❝ look, trust is earned. ❞ ❝ it’s times like this i can’t help but wonder, where did i go wrong? ❞ ❝ you like it. how it feels. to kill. ❞ ❝ your kindness and ability to see the good in people, it's the best thing about you. but people take advantage. ❞ ❝ so when are you letting me show you the real city? ❞ ❝ i can see you’re trying to remain noble while you hide your true motives. ❞ ❝ all i can say is never again. no love. no people. just books. ❞ ❝ you don’t know who i am or what i want. ❞ ❝ i’m not a fairy princess who needs soft speech or coddling. ❞ ❝ the best way to stay out of people’s business is to know what that business is. ❞ ❝ i can say something...romantic if you like. ❞ ❝ ugh. don’t know why i bother trying to help you. ❞ ❝ your past can’t be worse than mine.❞ ❝ i have too many friends. come back when one is dead. ❞ ❝ don’t kiss me. we might fall in love. ❞ ❝ i don’t let people in. it simply isn’t worth it.❞ ❝ you all right? you look sick. ❞   ❝ what i find dodgy about you, mate, is absolutely fucking everything. ❞ ❝ you know what they say: ‘the colder the stare, the warmer the heart’.❞ ❝ we will never ever be equals because i can't compete with perfection. ❞ ❝ don’t make promises you can’t keep. ❞ ❝ i know the real you, a cruel man in his own immoral universe.❞ ❝ you say sweet things, it’s nice. and it makes me feel worse.❞ ❝ i know your strengths, and when you fail to live up to them, oh, it’s so disappointing.❞ ❝ everybody wants me...until they have me. ❞ ❝ i think we’ve somehow gotten off on the wrong foot. sorry. ❞ ❝ whatever it is you think you want to say, don't.❞ ❝ my way is the only way and you know it.❞ ❝ what i find dodgy about you, mate, is absolutely fucking everything. ❞ ❝ the world isn't kind or fair, so i need you to know that you have changed me the way...opening a window changes a dark room. ❞ ❝ oh, i’m sorry. did i hurt your feelings? ❞ ❝ historically, you are the family fuck-up. ❞ ❝ i love your stubbornness, luckily for you. and your good heart.❞ ❝ your past doesn’t scare me.❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i’m trying to change my past mistakes. ❞ ❝ i don’t wanna lose you, and i’m sorry that i pushed you away. ❞ ❝ i own everything in this world i want. ❞ ❝ who would i be to judge you?❞ ❝ don’t be a prude. you can touch me. ❞ ❝ there you are. i was wondering when you’d find me.❞ ❝ you don’t know me as well as you think. ❞ ❝ i can’t afford distractions. not now. ❞ ❝ i'll make you this promise: this is the last thing i ever ask of you.❞ ❝ if you are honest with me from now forward and i'm honest with you, then...that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ you following me like a puppy? ❞ ❝ did you kill someone? i can always tell. ❞ ❝ i ran away from all this. i never wanted to touch a bloody knife again. ❞ ❝ you act like...you’re just a good man who did a bad thing. ❞ ❝ what i’d like is to...is to be done, you know? ❞ ❝ we all wear different masks, depending. and of course, parts of us we can't bear to show to anyone. ❞ ❝ heartbreak is always the catalyst for a new path. ❞ ❝ i have no desire to hear what you say, and i don’t know why you’ve come. ❞ ❝ you’re not who i figured you for. ❞ ❝ if i had done these things, it could only have been because i had no other options. ❞ ❝ are you ignoring me? you’re hurting my feelings. ❞ ❝ have a lovely afternoon. or don’t. ❞ ❝ it continues to be none of your business.❞ ❝ you wage war with your own nature. that is what you do. ❞   ❝ my guess is that you’ve truly had a hellish life. ❞ ❝ eventually, i will get a smile out of you. ❞ ❝ i suppose i’ve been falling in a little bit in love with you. ❞ ❝ are you telling me i need a man? a big, strong man to protect me?❞ ❝ you do have a good heart. and it tortures you.❞ ❝ i decide if the line gets crossed, when and why. ❞ ❝ what do you say we grab us a real drink? ❞ ❝ redemption is possible, as long as they commit to never running from themselves. ❞ ❝ not only do i not care if you think i’m a bitch, i hugely prefer it. ❞ ❝ i wish you an end to suffering and the roots of suffering. ❞ ❝ do you have something to hide? ❞ ❝ i love you. i don’t want to lose you ever.❞ ❝ i just want to make my own way. i just want to be a person and not even a great one, just decent.❞ ❝ what...? what is that look? ❞ ❝ you don’t want to know the real me.❞ ❝ i’ve always admired a man like you who...doesn’t care how he presents. ❞ ❝ it’s time we got to know each other. ❞ ❝ you okay? you seem a little nervous. ❞ ❝ i’m not scared of being my dad. i’m already worse.❞ ❝ i like a secret. secrets make you feel like you're living your life. ❞ ❝ you know what my favorite thing about love is? it gives you second chances.❞ ❝ when are you going to understand? i’m smarter than you.❞ ❝ i have been incredibly kind in the past to so many dear little lambs who were, in actuality, cruel wolves.❞ ❝ doing any real good is predicated on having real power.❞ ❝ all i’ve ever wanted is to love and to be loved completely. ❞ ❝ i have a past too. in another place with another name. all i want is to never be her again.❞ ❝ you do so much for everyone, but i cannot let you put yourself in harm’s way.❞ ❝ i’m gonna need you to change the subject by kissing me.❞ ❝ i am sick of being manipulated and underestimated.❞ ❝ we all have something bad in us.❞ ❝ if you had died, i would never have forgiven you. ❞ ❝ your story is incredible. you must be tired of talking about it. ❞ ❝ despite all i’ve ever done for you...you despise me. ❞ ❝ all that matters is that you’re all right.❞ ❝ the more you spend time with someone, the more cursed you are to see them as human.❞ ❝ things took a turn since i saw you last.❞ ❝ very sweet for you to offer, but we both know that you’re full of shit. ❞ ❝ my place. tomorrow. bring wine.❞

[theangrypomeranian]

SO! for the hell of it, I decided to pick 5 of my favorite musicals for each Belcher and explain why I think they would love it. let's get started~

(long post warning lol)

Louise:

for starters, this musical is HILARIOUS. many songs and different parts make me laugh out loud and I think would make Louise laugh too. not to mention it is gory and bloody, which of course would please our lil maniac. I also think she would love Cheyl and Ash's relationship and maybe even relate to it with her siblings.

(this is also me begging people to watch/listen to this musical because imo it should be way more popular)

Gene:

Book of Mormon is iconic in every way and I think Gene would love it from the opening number. I also think he would relate to Arnold Cunningham and the journey his character goes on in the musical. some of the lines in the music numbers also remind me of the out-of-pocket things Gene tends to say in the show lol. fun fact, the guys that write South Park wrote and produced this musical.

Tina:

everything about this musical SCREAMS Tina Belcher. she would relate to Veronica Sawyer so hard and see all of her bullies in the Heathers. not to mention the toxic love story between Veronica and JD is totally something that 13 year old Tina would have written in one of her EFFs. all in all, this is the choice I feel the most confident about.

Linda:

if you think Linda Belcher wouldn't love this musical, you are lying to yourself. the music! the romance! the drama! Linda would ADORE this one and definitely belt out the songs while working in the restaurant or cleaning the apartment. you can’t go wrong with Phantom of the Opera.

Bob:

listen idgaf if Hamilton is considered "cringe" or "problematic" by today's standards, I love this musical. and I think Bob would have a secret obsession with it. he already loves CAKE and some parts of Hamilton sound like it. plus we all know Bob is a big ol' softie and would be in tears through all of the last number. though he would definitely be FURIOUS with Hamilton for cheating on Eliza.

this was fun, maybe I'll do this again for other characters in the show. for now, these are my picks. *bows*

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America

This afternoon (May 6), I’ll be in Berkeley at the Bay Area Bookfest for a 3:30PM event with Glynn Washington for my book Red Team Blues; tomorrow (May 7), it’s an 11AM event with Wendy Liu for my book Chokepoint Capitalism.

Weds (May 10), I’m in Vancouver for a keynote at the Open Source Summit and a book event at Heritage Hall and Thu (May 11), I’m in Calgary for Wordfest.

The Writers Guild is on strike. Hollywood is closed for business. The union’s bargaining documents reveal a cartel of studios that refused to negotiate on a single position. This could go on for a long-ass time:

https://www.wga.org/uploadedfiles/members/member_info/contract-2023/WGA_proposals.pdf

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/06/people-are-not-disposable/#union-strong

The writers are up for it. A lot of people are saying this is the first writers’ strike since 2007/8, but that’s not quite right. That was the last time the writers went on strike against the studios, but in 2019, the writers struck against their own talent agents — within the space of a week, all 7,000 writers in Hollywood fired their agents. They struck against the agencies for 22 months.

https://deadline.com/2023/04/hollywood-strike-writers-guild-studios-talent-agencies-1235333516/

The agencies had consolidated down to four major firms, two backed by private equity who loaded them up with debt that could only be repaid if the agencies figured out how to vastly increase their profits. They did so, by unilaterally switching the way they did business with their clients. Instead of taking a 10% commission on the creative wages they bargained for, the agencies started to take “packaging fees” from the studios for putting together a writer, director, stars, etc. These fees came out of the same budget that the talent got paid from, so the higher the fee was, the less the talent made. Soon, some showrunners were discovering that they were getting 10% and their agents were getting 90%!

The agencies weren’t done, either: they were building their own studios, and planning to negotiate with themselves on behalf of their clients. The writers said fuck this shit. They issued a code of conduct ordering the agencies to knock all that shit off. The agencies swore they’d never do it. Why should they? Every job these writers had ever done came through an agency, and the agencies were staffed with the toughest, most obnoxious negotiators on the planet.

They were sure the writers would cave. After all, the top tier of writers had been handled with kid gloves by the agencies and not ripped off to the same extent as their jobbing, workaday peers. They’d break solidarity and the union would collapse, right?

Wrong. Twenty-two months later, every one of the agencies caved on every single point. Bam. Union strong.

(Want to learn more? Check out Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin’s and my book about creative labor markets:)

http://chokepointcapitalism.com

Now the writers are back on strike and it’s triggered a predictable torrent of anti-worker nonsense (“striking writers will lead to public indifference to torture!) (no, really) (ugh):

https://www.readtpa.com/p/on-the-tv-writers-strike-dont-fall

One common theme in these bad takes is that writers aren’t real workers, like, you know, coal miners or Starbucks baristas. They’re coddled intellectuals, and haven’t the intelligentsia been indifferent to proletarian struggle since, you know, time immemorial?

This is wrong in every conceivable way. For starters, it’s ahistorical. Lord Byron and innumerable other toffs and poets and such were right there with the Luddites, demanding labor justice during the Industrial Revolution, as Brian Merchant writes in his outstanding, forthcoming history of the Luddites, Blood in the Machine:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/20/love-the-machine/#hate-the-factory

But you don’t have to look back to the stocking frame to find this kind of solidarity. As Hamilton Nolan writes in his newsletter, “Hollywood is the single best example of mature labor power in America”:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-coral-reef-of-humanity-encircling

The entire Hollywood workforce, from grips to carpenters, costumers to plumbers, teamsters to medics, is unionized. That includes writers and actors (I’m a member of IATSE Local 839, AKA The Animation Guild). I live in Burbank, the entertainment industry’s company town (fun fact! The “Hollywood” studios are largely over the city line, in Burbank). Walk down Burbank Boulevard, Magnolia Boulevard, or any of the other major roads, and you’ll pass many union halls.

Burbank is a prosperous place. That’s thanks, in part, to the studios, whose entertainment products are very profitable. But working in a profitable industry is not, in and of itself, a guarantee that you will get a share of those profits. Some of the most profitable industries in the world — e-commerce, fast food, logistics — have the lowest paid workforces.

Burbank is prosperous because the unions made sure that everyone — the grips, the costumers, the animators, the actors, the writers, the teamsters and the pipefitters — gets a decent wage, decent health care and a decent retirement. My pal the set-dresser who worked crazy hours shlepping furniture around sitcom sets for decades? All that work did bad stuff to his joints, which meant that he needed a hip replacement in his forties — which was 100% covered, including his sick leave while he recovered. He was able to take early retirement in his late fifties, with a solid pension, with his health in excellent shape and many years of happiness with his partner stretching before him.

That’s what unions get you: a good job that might be hard at times, and the costs of your work are borne by the employer who profits from your labor. As Nolan writes, the point of unions is to “make sure that people! Are! Not! Disposable!”

Unions deliver the American dream. As Pete Seeger sang in “Talking Union Blues”:

Now, if you want higher wages let me tell you what to do You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you You got to build you a union, got to make it strong But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long You get shorter hours, better working conditions Vacations with pay. Take your kids to the seashore

http://www.protestsonglyrics.net/Labor_Union_Songs/Talking-Union.phtml

We tend to focus on wages in union discussions, but unions aren’t merely about getting better pay, it’s about making better jobs. When LA teachers went out on strike in 2019, wages weren’t at the top of their list — they bargained for greenspace for every school, replacing rotting portables with permanent buildings, ending ICE entrapment of parents at the school gates, social workers and counselors for schools…and wages.

I really like how Nolan puts this. The way that the studios make money has changed: streaming is clobbering ad-supported TV and movie theater tickets. The studios are adapting. The workers want to adapt, too. The studios would rather “treat[] their work force as a disposable natural resource to be mined, used up, and then abandoned, as business dictates.”

A union gives workers “the same ability to adapt to changing industries that companies already have.” The studios want to leave workers behind. Unions give workers the collective power to say, “No. You’re taking us with you.”

Union workers are wealthier than their non-union counterparts, but that’s not just because of higher wages. As Nolan writes, “Unions make sure that the people get to adapt to changing industries, and not just the investors and the business owners.”

[Union workers] have a far greater ability to build coherent, long-term careers, as opposed to a constant treadmill of unstable short-term gigs. In non-union industries, businesses can just act like ships cutting through a desperate sea of workers, scooping up whoever they want and then tossing them overboard as soon as it’s convenient. In a union industry, though, the companies are forced to deal with the labor force as an equal. The workers have their own damn boat.

Advocates for market capitalism insist that market forces increase prosperity for everyone. They say that, in the end, having corporations serve their shareholders results in corporations serving everyone.

But a comparison of unionized and nonunionized industries reveals the hollowness of that prospect. Hollywood is wildly profitable and it pays every kind of worker well. That’s because workers have solidarity across sectors and trades. Striking writers like jonrog1 are calling on supporters to donate to the Entertainment Community Fund:

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654168529728307204

The Entertainment Community Fund supports everyone else who is affected by the work-stoppage, all the other creative and craft trades whose work has been halted by the writers’ struggle. If you want to support these workers, make sure you select “Film and TV” from the drop-down menu when you donate (we gave $100):

https://entertainmentcommunity.org/

Because all the workers are in this together. As Adam Conover explains in this amazing CNN clip, David Zazlav, the head of CNN parent-company Warner-Discovery, made a quarter of a billion dollars last year, enough to pay all the demands of all the writers:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aL-YwKO81go

And Carol Lombardini, spokesvillain for the studio cartel AMPTP, told the press that “”Writers are lucky to have term employment.” As John Rogers says, she “wiped out the doubt of every writer who wasn’t sure this negotiation really IS so important, that it actually IS about turning us into gig workers.”

https://twitter.com/jonrog1/status/1654506611086606336

The stakes in this strike are the same as the stakes in every strike: will workers get a fair share of the value their labor creates, or will that value be piled up in the vaults of $250,000,000/year CEOs? It’s not like the studios especially hate writers — like all corporations, they hate all their workers. The same tactics that they’re using to make it so writers can’t pay the rent today will be turned on every other kind of Hollywood worker tomorrow — and when the writers win this one, they’ll support those workers, too.

There’s a lot of concern about AI displacing creative labor, but the only entity that can take away a writer’s wage is a human being, an executive at a studio. As has been the case since the time of the Luddites, the issue isn’t what the machine does, it’s who it does it for and who it does it to.

After all, as Charlie Stross points out, a corporation is just a “Slow AI,” remorselessly paperclip-maximizing its way through the lives and joy of the flesh-and-blood people who constitute its inconvenient gut-flora:

https://media.ccc.de/v/34c3-9270-dude_you_broke_the_future#video&t=3478

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Berkeley, Vancouver, Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: Animators walk the picket-line during the Disney Animator's Strike in 1941.]

Image: LA Times https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Screen_Cartoonist%27s_Guild_strike_at_Disney.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

[naavispider]

Thanks for linking Stripes! It would be nice to see this on AO3, it would be easier to read 💙 Have you thought about writing a scene in which Spider would seriously talk to Recoms and Quaritch about life on Earth? This would be interesting to read :*

"Come on, you must have thought about it!" Wainfleet prodded, tossing Spider a water bottle as they rested near the night's campfire.

"Can honestly say that I haven't, actually."

The conversation was only really between the two of them, but the rest of the camp was listening in as they reclined against their packs or consulted their holotablets. Quaritch's ears perked up. "Are you being serious?"

Spider turned in his direction. "Yeah..." he said, shrugging. He couldn't see what the big deal was. "Why should I imagine Earth? It would be like an Earth-born human wondering what it would be like to grow up on Pandora."

"Yeah but you're from Earth," Wainfleet argued.

Spider ground his teeth. "No I'm not, jackass."

Wainfleet raised his arms in exasperation, gesturing around the camp. "Kid, like it or not, you're not from Pandora."

"I think what Wainfleet is trying to say," interrupted Quaritch before Spider could fire back and get worked up into a huff, "is that none of us believe you haven't at least thought about what it's like back home. Say, what did you want to be when you grew up?"

Spider frowned. He'd been read hundreds of books when he was a kid, all depicting Earth scenes with Earth plots and Earth problems, but he'd always felt the disconnect as if it was a physical feeling. None of it applied to him, because none of it was relevant to Na'vi culture. The possibility of growing up to be a doctor, or a teacher, or a mechanic simply weren't options that were open to him. And it's not like he ever felt like he was missing out. The scientists all agreed that Earth was a dismal place to grow up these days, and even if it wasn't, Spider's affinity and loyalty to his home planet was far too great to ever consider wanting to visit.

He shrugged. "When I'm older, I'm going to be a warrior. The first human to pass iknimaya."

Quaritch was looking at him in a way he didn't like: sympathetic and...sad?

"What is your problem?" he ground out, angered by this response.

"That shouldn't be your only option. You're sixteen."

"No. It shouldn't be my only option because my home shouldn't be being invaded by aliens." He could tell he'd hit a nerve.

Quaritch sighed, adjusting his grip on the rifle he was using to patrol the camp.

Wainfleet spoke up. "But if you could be something different. What would you be?"

Spider thought for a moment, staring into the fire. "I dunno... I don't know what I'm good at."

"There's plenty you're good at," huffed Quaritch from across the camp. The Colonel had his back to them in the darkness, focused on the perimeter of the clearing. Spider felt a soft rush of warmth pool in his chest, but he quickly pressed it down.

"Yeah," Wainfleet said. "You're top notch little punk, for starters!"

Spider punched the corporal's shoulder, hard, which earned nothing more than a chuckle from the amused Wainfleet.

"I could pull your tswin so hard right now..." he grumbled.

"You're smart, good with your hands..." Ja offered unexpectedly.

"Don't inflate his ego, Ja," Zdinarsk groaned, finally joining the conversation as well.

"You could make a good medic."

For the second time in as many minutes, Spider felt a blush spread through his cheeks at Ja's calm praise. "Nah, I'm no Tsa'hik."

"Okay, but good with people though. You care a lot."

"Okay... this is getting weird," Spider cringed. He had no idea the squad's medic saw him in such high regard.

"Agreed," Wainfleet echoed, but not before Quaritch returned from his sweep of the camp, taking off his AR and resting it carefully near his pack.

Spider watched the Colonel as he strolled over relaxedly, taking a seat next to Spider on the warm moss. He appreciated that the man left enough space between them so that it wasn't awkward.

"You coulda been anything you wanted," the man huffed. The rest of the camp suddenly became extremely interested in field stripping their weapons or rummaging around for supplies. "You were robbed."

The weight of his words seemed to bear down on Quaritch. His voice was low and full of regret. He was probably blaming himself for the whole thing.

"I know it seems like that to you," Spider began, adjusting himself on the ground so he was a little further away from the recom. "But I was happy with my life."

Spider's use of the past tense hung in the air like a mist of bellsprig spores.

"Spider-" Quaritch extended a hand, but Spider shrugged it off quickly. He shuffled further away, hugging his legs and resting his chin on his knees. This only seemed to trigger Quaritch. He exhaled gruffly, nodding his acceptance of Spider's actions, but his voice told a different story. "I'm sorry I've let this happen to you."

They both knew he wasn't talking about taking Spider into RDA custody.

Anger boiled up inside of Spider - hot and volatile, so much all at once that he didn't know how to control it. "Txanfwìngtu! Vonvä’!" Hot licks of fury bubbled up his throat, bringing the profanity with it. "Pxasìk... Are you serious?!" He glared at Quaritch, breathless.

Quaritch didn't return the look, instead staring ahead stonily, confirming to Spider that he was set in his beliefs.

"Fuck you."

Quaritch smiled grimly, clearly trying to contain his own anger now.

"You think I'm a complete victim in this! You think that because you died I'm just a charity case. Well guess what? You dying was that best thing that could have happened to me. I think about going back to Earth now, and I shudder. Fuck you for thinking otherwise!" He leapt to his feet and stormed towards one of the larger trees, swinging himself up to make his bed for the night in one of the branches before Quaritch could respond. His heart was pounding, his mind racing with all the things he still wanted to shout into Quaritch's face. If he wouldn't literally die, he'd rip his damn mask off and tear through the forest faster than he'd ever moved in his life. He knew they'd never find him again without the tracker. He growled furiously into the night, slamming his head back against the bark of the tree. He'd put enough distance between himself and the squad so that he was out of sight, and probably too high to be heard either. He could just picture Quaritch checking the tablet to make sure he wasn't doing a runner.

This is how it was between them. Just when Spider thought Quaritch was beginning to understand him, he went and got proven completely wrong. Quaritch was an asshole, and Spider hated him.

Angry tears slipped down inside his mask as he realised why he was so angry. It was so unfair. Why did he have to hate the one man he was supposed to feel so differently about?

[maximotts]

𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎; 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 :: 𝙲.𝚘.𝚆.𝙼.

a/n: alright, here we go! I think I've mentioned it already, but most of these chapters are written and in my drafts so knocks on wood the schedule should stay as planned. I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I do and big special thanks to @furys-eyepatch for sending me the idea for Kinktober uh... obviously it got Quite Long

✎— priest's daughter!Wanda x college student!reader

✎— confessions AU; it's only been a few weeks, but Wanda won't get out of your head. With how small your campus was, you thought sure you were bound to run into her; until you realize she's the one person never on the invite list

✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; this first chapter is pretty tame tbh, but we've got name calling, mentions of Wanda being an innocent little bean, allusions to bullying, and Brock Rumlow being a jerk

✎— words: 2.5k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

That semester, you shared three classes, but your Folklore and Terror class was where you’d first seen her and just for that, it was your favorite. Three times a week you’d walk into the small lecture hall, barely on time, and Wanda Maximoff would already be settled at her chosen spot with her notebook open, books stacked neatly, pen and highlighters ready to be picked up as soon as your professors opened their mouths. She was like that for every class no matter what; from day one it was clear Wanda enrolled in college to learn, not socialize. 

Upon first glance, she’d single handedly convinced you she was the standard: focused, task-oriented, and studious. And just as quickly, you’d found Wanda was the exception instead of the rule. The rest of your classmates were exponentially more relaxed, talking to one another about anything from their massive workload to the current flatmate drama between dormitories. It was a tight-knit campus, most of the students having gone to school together since kindergarten and grown up in the tiny isolated town of Westview about an hour away. 

You’d expected to turn into a loner for a while, especially with transferring here in your third year, but new people were exciting front page news to young adults who’d seen the same faces for two decades and soon enough, invitations for study sessions over coffee, bonfires, and late night parties with weed brownies came pouring in. Everyone was surprisingly welcoming and you were grateful for the introductions, the companionship, all of it.. but wherever you went, Wanda was absent.

Eternally polite and quiet Wanda was nowhere to be found outside of class, and it only piqued your curiosity further.

After some casual prodding, you found out Wanda also grew up in Westview, but she was only a topic as an excuse for a few particularly annoyed girls to roll their eyes and sneer. Smart as she was, Wanda wasn’t ever invited to study groups, not that she asked either, no, she didn’t speak a word to anyone besides instructors and a few select people you recognized from your transfer orientation— the only kids that didn’t know her from town. 

A handful of times you’d caught her staring your way, but as soon as she noticed you looking back, she whipped around or turned her eyes back to her notes. For the first few weeks, you tried to pretend her avoidance didn’t bother you, but seeing her chat with other students made you wonder why she wouldn’t do the same with you. Sure you hadn’t approached her yourself, but honestly, you hadn’t worked up a good enough excuse to past “hey you’re pretty cute, please talk to me” and it just sounded too weird in your head to say aloud. 

Unfortunately, before you’d gotten a chance to think of a better conversation starter, Wanda started walking to your desk after class and your brain went into panic mode not only wondering what to say, but also what she could possibly want after seemingly avoiding you since the semester started. It was fine, everything was fine, she didn’t look mad at all, maybe… nervous?

You were moments away from speaking up as she made her way over… only to stop dead in her tracks when Brock Rumlow slung his arm over your shoulder. Just as soon as he began running his mouth about the next soccer game, Wanda spun around and made a beeline for her chair as if she hadn’t acknowledged you at all. While he ranted on and on, you tried to quell the disappointment, but it tugged the corners of your mouth down into a frown anyways. Not that the loud athlete noticed. “Shut up for a second… What do you know about Wanda?”

He only scoffed, both of you turning your attention to where the shy brunette now hurriedly packed her stuff into her red messenger bag. With all of her notebooks and pretty stationary, you wondered if her bag ever felt heavy… and if she’d let you carry it to class for her some time. “That religious little daddy’s girl? Stay away from her.” 

The strong reaction shouldn’t have caught you off guard, not when anyone who talked about her did so with the same distasteful tone, but it never failed to feel kind of… harsh. You didn’t need to grow up with a group of people to know how easy it can be to target one person and exaggerate every aspect of them until they grew to be a much bigger monster than they ever were in the first place. 

“She seems sweet though… Is she really that bad?” It was hard to believe anyone could dislike her that much when she was all oversized knit sweaters and gentle enough smiles to make you melt from across an entire lecture hall.

“Hey! Put those heart eyes away!” Brock poked your hip until you looked at him instead, ignoring your annoyed huff, “What’d I just say? She’s a total narc who goes running to her father as soon as she hears anything. I’m assuming you’ve never been to Westview?” You shook your head; the drive to your new school didn’t take you past the town and you’d been too busy with classes to explore yet. “Right, well Wanda’s dad runs the church, the one all our parents go to; whenever he got wind of something going down, all of us got a speech at home. Bit of a shame, she’s kinda cute, but can’t tell that bitch anything unless you want it blown to shit-” 

You might not have been friends with Wanda yet, but that didn’t mean you’d let someone, especially anyone as sleazy as Brock, demean her so boldly. It was in that sentence you discovered Wanda most likely kept her distance because of your new friend group. If so many people treated her how he did, you couldn’t blame her for staying away.

A hard elbow to the stomach left him choking on his own words, killing two birds with one stone to both shut him up and force him to let you go; you never liked how touchy he was anyways. “We’re all years into college now. She can’t still be like that.” 

“I’m not gonna chance it,” he shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder as if you hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him, “She goes home a lot more than anyone else, heard Mr. Maximoff picks her up too even though he pays for her apartment here. Something about her needing her own space to stay focused without ‘distractions’... weirdos, don’t know how her brother turned out normal. Trust me, the most you’ll get with her is maybe a walk through the courtyard.” 

A walk didn’t sound too bad right about now, particularly far away from this eye-opening, but awful little chat. “Well her dad doesn’t know me or my parents…” Maybe one day, hopefully, if you played your cards right, he would. 

Clumsily grabbing your stuff, you rushed out the door Wanda crossed through just a few seconds prior, looking around and finding her rushing down the stone path. “Wanda!” She had to have heard you, stopping briefly before continuing on, walking purposefully away even as you yelled out her name again. “Wait up a sec!”

It was a quick sprint to catch up with her, speeding a little ahead to jump ahead, forcing her to stop so as not to collide with you. “Wanda.. Hey!”

“Hi,” Even after weeks of lectures, you’d never seen her this close and already Brock was wrong; Wanda wasn’t just kinda cute, she was beautiful. Green eyes regarded you cautiously, narrowed ever so slightly. Her stiff posture showed she was already on guard, so different from the easy way you’d seen her open up to anyone else and you couldn’t lie, it stung a bit. You didn’t want her to be so worried; maybe the people you sat with didn’t like her, but you’d never said a mean word and even if you tried, you couldn’t think of one to say.

You could barely think of a coherent sentence to offer her.

“Hi… sorry for yelling,” You were a little out of breath, weighed down by your bag and still groggy from your professor’s boring lecture. For a second, you were scared Wanda would simply side step you and keep walking, taking advantage of your fatigue to avoid you entirely, but her expression softened, turning almost apologetic for her hostility. She even had a cute pout. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Faint laughter sounded out behind you and the classroom was a ways away now, but Wanda’s eyes darted over her shoulder, catching Brock and a few of his various pals now on the grass, waving your way. You would’ve shouted at them to quit it, but you heard Wanda’s sigh and chose to ignore the ruckus for now, not wanting to accidentally egg them on further. “I hear a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I should pay attention to them.”

“Right…” Shit. She must’ve caught bits of your conversation, Brock wasn’t exactly a subtle guy. Wanda was gone by the time you cut him off; given how openly disliked she was, it couldn’t have been the first time she’d overheard herself being talked about. No wonder she practically ran out of the room. “Sorry about that.”

You felt for her in a sense, could empathize with being ostracized from your peers. Typically, going away to college fixed that, but Wanda was still stuck with the same group of people. Not that you wanted to talk to her out of guilt, not even close; the first thoughts you’d had about Wanda were far more lustful than pitying. All you wanted was one chance to get to know her for yourself. “Can I walk you to your next class?”

Wanda didn’t even try to hide her shock and you tried to pretend her reaction didn’t scare you that your other classmate was right about the courtyard walk. “That was my only class today.” 

“Mine too,” In truth, you had two long classes filling your afternoon; missing them just once wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you’d still be learning, replacing Wanda Maximoff for Governmental Statistics and World Literature. “Have lunch with me then?”

You could see her working through the proposition in her head, gauging your persistence against your seemingly genuine smile. She’d wanted to talk to you just as long as you had her, but there were…obstacles. Not only the crowd that drew you in, but also the beginnings of what she was just recently coming to terms with as a crush. Initially Wanda brushed it off as you being brand new, but when she caught herself making excuses to look your way and thinking about you while she grocery shopped, she knew her feelings wouldn’t pass by so easily. 

As much as she knew her inexperience combined with her bottom tier social status meant she had about zero chance with someone like you who she’d seen flirting with more than one girl already in your short time here, Wanda couldn’t get herself over it— over you. 

And Wanda wanted to have faith in you, to trust this wasn’t some awful prank you got roped into after you and her constant tormentors somehow sussed out her growing feelings and decided to poke at her new weakness for a laugh, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen into that trap. 

The first experience was traumatizing enough, Wanda would rather not have to relive it as an adult. If the words religious little daddy’s girl weren’t still ringing in her head, she wouldn’t have thought twice. “You want to have lunch with me?” 

“Well I’d ask you out to dinner, but it’s only 1pm.” Not to mention, you’d been helpless thinking of some introduction that wasn’t clearly leading her on. Your usual smooth pickups felt too forward for a girl like Wanda, given what you knew about her; she’d take a lot of work to get to where you got with some people in just a few minutes and you really, really didn’t want to mess this up. 

Wanda’s cheeks blossomed pink at your cheeky comment and you were glad to have caught even a glimpse of it before she could hide her face behind her notebook. At least you could bank on her not being too extremely prudish, that gave you some wiggle room. “To make up for that asshole back there, please? We can get whatever you want, I’ll even pay.”

The terms sounded like a date, a lunch date, but it was all the same to Wanda who’d never successfully been on a date as well as to her fluttering heart. You learned right then Wanda was beautiful when annoyed, but positively gorgeous when she smiled at you. There were a million and one ways she could’ve responded, from disgust to polite rejection to even an overly gushy yes, but Wanda had to at least try to reply with a fraction of your ease. “I didn’t say no the first time.” 

“Well then, take us to your lunch spot of choice, sweetheart.” You stepped aside to let her go ahead, just missing Wanda’s cheeks darken to a tomato red from the sudden nickname, following close behind as your date led the way to her mystery destination. 

“There’s not much around here, you probably know where you’re going…” She was right, all walkable campus things were familiar to you now, but you could care less. 

“Shh, let me have this surprise-” Your phone buzzed in your pocket and unlocking it revealed an obnoxious text from Brock filled with kissy faces and laughing emojis. By the end of the day, it’d surely get around that you decided to hang out with their Public Enemy No.1, but you’d choose watching Wanda’s pretty pleated skirt bouncing ever so slightly as she walked with her adorable cautious glances, making sure you were actually still behind her, over the smell of sports sweat and hefty doses of Axe body spray any time. “I think you’re taking me the prettier route there anyways.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open when she realized your gaze wasn’t on the sidewalk or the leaves, but her, bashful yet again as she whipped back around. With less self-restraint you would’ve pulled her in for a hug, maybe nuzzled into her hair if you thought she’d accept that out here in the open. But girls like Wanda were a special kind, requiring time and coaxing and just the right words. 

You were willing to give her all of that and more. If no one else wanted her, you’d sure as hell take her before some other idiot could.

[calliesmemes]

JAMES CAMERON’S TITANIC (1997)

ROLEPLAY SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE SCRIPT FOR THE ICONIC FILM TITANIC (1997). DELETED SCENES INCLUDED.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   You’re a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you’re hunting? ”

“   She’s a goddamned liar! A nutcase! ”

“   ls there anything you'd like? ”

“   Well, here it is, the moment of truth. ”

“   I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give some away. ”

“   This was mine. How extraordinary! It looks the same as the last time I saw it. ”

“   Just tell us what you can-- ”

“   I don't see what all the fuss is about. ”

“   Your daughter is much too hard to impress. ”

“   You act as if you're going to your execution. ”

“   Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming. ”

“   You lost our money. I'm just trying to get it back. ”

“   Somebody's life's about to change. ”

“   We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world! ”

“   Just another example of the men settin' the rules their way. ”

“   Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you. ”

“   She’s a pistol. I hope you can handle her. ”

“   Stay back! Don't come any closer! ”

“   Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. ”

“   You're distracting me. Go away. ”

“   Don't be absurd. You'll be killed. ”

“   Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand. ”

“   I've got you. I won't let go. ”

“   Women and machinery do not mix. ”

“   Good for you son, well done! ”

“   Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale? ”

“   I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretend to know why. ”

“   It's for royalty. And we are royalty. ”

“   Open your heart to me. ”

“   I’m afraid I'm feeling a little tired. ”

“   Look, I'm running out of time. I need your help. ”

“   Maybe she wants to make peace with the past. ”

“   Could I speak to you in private? ”

“   So, you got a name by the way? ”

“   That's quite a moniker. I may have to get you to write that down. ”

“   I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you. ”

“   Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery? ”

“   I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber. ”

“   Oh God, I am such an utter fool. ”

“   Please don't judge me until you've seen my world. ”

“   You have a gift — you see people. ”

“   I was hoping I'd catch you at tea. ”

“   Why can’t I be like you? ”

“   They didn't teach you that in finishing school? ”

“   Do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing? ”

“   You're about to go into the snakepit. I hope you're ready. ”

“   What are you planning to wear? ”

“   My, my, my... you shine up like a new penny. ”

“   I didn't recognize you. ”

“   Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentleman! ”

“   Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you've got a lot of it and you're in the club. ”

“   It’s a pity we’re both spoken for, isn’t it? ”

“   Where exactly do you live? ”

“   You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you? ”

“   It’s a big world, and I want to see it all before I go ”

“   Something like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count. ”

“   All life is a game of luck. ”

“   A real man makes his own luck. ”

“   What are you doing? I see you everywhere writing in this little book. ”

“   It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing. ”

“   So you want to go to a real party? ”

“   You're not one of them. There's been a mistake. ”

“   Look! A shooting star. ”

“   My father used to say that whenever you saw a shooting star, it was a soul going to heaven. ”

“   What would you wish for? ”

“   I had hoped you would come to me last night. ”

“   You will never behave like that again! Do you understand? ”

“   I will not be made out to be a fool! Is this in any way unclear? ”

“   You are not to see that boy again, do you understand me? ”

“   Oh, stop it. You'll give yourself a nosebleed. ”

“   This is not a game! Our situation is precarious! ”

“   How can you put this on my shoulders? ”

“   How can you be so selfish? ”

“   We're women. Our choices are never easy. ”

“   Look, you're not supposed to be in here. ”

“   She's a goddess amongst mortal men. ”

“   You're a spoiled little brat! ”

“   You're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known. ”

“   You're amazing... and I know I have nothing to offer you. ”

“   I can’t turn away without knowing that you’ll be safe. ”

“   They've got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you're going to die if you don't break out. ”

“   Sooner or later the fire in you is going to go out. ”

“   It's not up to you to save me ”

“   I changed my mind. ”

“   I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. ”

“   I expect to get what I want. ”

“   I want to always remember this night. ”

“   You’re trembling. ”

“   I can feel your heart beating. ”

“   It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it. ”

“   There’s no cause for alarm. ”

“   Say, did I miss the fun? ”

“   Something serious has happened. ”

“   You can't be serious! We're in the middle of an emergency! ”

“   Don't listen to them... I didn't do this! You know I didn't! You know it! ”

“   I believe you may get your headlines. ”

“   Please dress warmly; it's quite cold tonight. ”

“   Please tell me the truth. ”

“   Tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic. ”

“   Do you know who I am? ”

“   I'd rather be his whore than your wife. ”

“   That man tried to take advantage of me! ”

“   Help!! Somebody!! Can anybody hear me?! ”

“   I'll do this with or without your help. But without will take longer. ”

“   I'm through with being polite, goddamnit! I may never be polite the rest of my life! ”

“   So... how did you find out I didn't do it? ”

“   Where you go, I go. ”

“   Don’t argue with me; you know it does no good. ”

“   I will never forget you. ”

“   It seems we've been dealt a bad hand this time. ”

“   You're a good liar. ”

“   I always win. One way or another. ”

“   You're so stupid, you're such an idiot— ”

“   You jump, I jump, right? ”

“   What could possibly be funny? ”

“   Won't you even make a try for it? ”

“   We can't expect God to do all the work for us. ”

“   Shhh. Don't cry. It'll be over soon. It'll all be over soon. ”

“   No... don't say your good-byes. Don't you give up. Don't do it. ”

“   You're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me? ”

“   You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... no matter what happens... no matter how hopeless... promise me now, and never let go of that promise. ”