#HIGHLY controversial series now

[lottiecrabie]

choose your own smut adventure. part seven – matty healy

previous. start.

You hesitate. There’s a fluttering book of positions in your head, more a dirty collection of fantasies than a concrete list. Matty features in all of them. You blink at him, overwhelmed with choices. He tightens his hold around your hand, forcing you to consider him. His hair is sweaty and unruly, his lips swollen and sticky wet, his eyes dark and piercing. He looks like your favorite renaissance painting; artful, historical, mythical. 

Your eyes greedily devour him. You part your lips, moaning confessionally, “I want to ride you.” Now that the thought sprouts out of your mouth, an excited thrum reverberates through you. It is pleasing just to vaguely imagine behind your eyelids. You don’t want him, you need him. 

Matty makes a little choking sound, but he snaps back quicker than your bold blowjob demand. He doesn’t even faux-humbly make you repeat yourself, pretending to hesitate, to barter. He sees in your hungry gaze that there is no uncertainty in your words. 

“I want you to ride me, too,” Matty whispers. You shiver at his tone, gravely and dangerous. 

He bends down to kiss you. His hands tangle in your hair, stealing the breath out of your mouth, making you lightheaded. Your mind fizzles as you grasp at his shoulders. Your limbs buzz with pleasure like TV static. You spread your legs wider, trying to get some friction going. 

Matty grabs a handful of your ass and makes you grind against his hard cock. You gasp, your mouth leaving his, and roll your head on the pillow. It’s a sinfully delicious feeling; he chuckles lightly in your neck. 

But you don’t want to lay there and take it like usual. You want to blow his mind, change your life. You push on his shoulders, rolling the both of you until you straddle his lap. 

Matty’s curls spill on the pillows. His hands settle on your thighs, spreading wide on the skin. He looks up at you, happy and proud, worshiping. You straighten your back; his eyes fall to your tits. You snort. Still just a man. 

Now that you’re up there, you’re not quite sure what to do. It seems like an overwhelming endeavor, and you feel a ping of pity for all the men in your life who had to have been responsible for both your pleasures, unsuccessful as they were.

“I don’t—” You flush, looking away. Matty frowns at you. “I’ve never— done this. I don’t know how.” 

“Well,” he smiles indulgently, rubbing his thumb on your skin. “It’s a good thing I’m meant to teach you, isn’t it?” 

You chew on your lip, still a bit worried. “It might be bad,” you warn, just in case. 

Matty laughs at that. “I promise it won’t. And, hey, if it really, really sucks, we can switch and try again next time.” 

Next time rings in your head like holy words. You smile down at him, saccharine sweet. “Alright.” Your hands travel from his waist to his chest. Faint hair peppers it. “What do I do?” 

Matty is overexcited, jittery. He paws at your thighs, your waist. You roll your hips into his like he showed you, creating sweet friction that makes you hold back a moan. “Oh, um— Condom first.” 

You still above him. “I’m on the pill. And clean. You?” 

Matty‘s eyes widen. “Yeah—” He tries to fake nonchalance. “Yes. I got tested recently.” Though his fingers dig into your waist, possessive, he still pants out a, “Are you sure?” 

You nod fervently. You’ve never needed someone more than him, never felt raw desire for a man like this. You want all of him, deep inside of you. You can’t wait anymore. You might go totally insane.

You raise on your knees, gripping his cock and lining it up. He groans at the contact, bucking into your hand. “I’m sure,” you breathe. Slowly, you lower yourself on him. 

A strike of pure, hot pleasure goes through your body. You whine at the intrusion. Your cunt throbs around him, and it makes him groan too, practically clawing at your skin. You’ve never felt more right, more complete. 

Your head falls forward to look at him. You can’t stop those pathetic little pants from your mouth. “What now?” You say, but it’s more a high-pitched plea than a real question. 

Matty moans, settling his hands over your hips. He takes a moment to gather his leaking brain, make sense of the two words you asked him. “Just— Just roll your hips like this.” 

His hands move you on his cock, a raking motion that makes your clit hit his pelvis. You mewl on top of him, scrunching your face shut. “That’s it,” he encourages, even if you have yet to do anything. 

When you finally grind on your own, Matty lets go of you. He scratches down your thighs instead, clenching and unclenching his hands like he’s physically stopping himself from taking charge, puppeteering you. 

You giggle a little at this, trying your sloppy rolls, mix-matching the rhythm and sense to figure out what feels best. Ecstasy pools in your belly, pressing against your stomach. You feel loose on your bones. 

But it’s still not enough. Tentatively, you rise up your knees, sliding him out of you to crash back down. Pleasure jolts you. You’re electrified. You make a little surprised scream. Then do it again, and again, chasing that pure bliss. 

“Does that feel good for you?” You ask, looking at him with a worried little frown. He looks euphoric enough, parting his lips with groans and panting in the hot air. Sweaty and flushed and beautiful. 

Matty nods loosely. He’s just as slack as you, just as gone. Good. At least you don’t feel so silly. You speed up your moves, bouncing on his cock. “And this?” You say, but it’s just to tease. The desperate grunt is indication enough. 

“I don’t care either way,” he says. “Just use me.” A powerful thrill shoots up your spine. You fuck him harder, faster. You want to ruin him. “Fuck,” he cries. “I need you to come on my cock.”

“I will,” you pant.

Your knees are growing sore, but you persist, bucking on him until your brain drips down your spine. You want him deeper into you, want him buried so far you never forget the shape of him. 

Your hand rests on his shoulder and you hold yourself up as you lean into him. Your hips angle differently, hitting a new spot over and over. You roll your eyes. 

“Take it,” Matty moans. His hands grab your ass. “You’re so fucking hot.” The praise sings to you. You make a little whine. 

The position quickly grows too tiring. You straighten up again, rolling onto his cock. Matty follows after you this time, sitting up. He paws at your bouncing tits.

You hook your arms around his neck and use him as leverage to push yourself up again. Matty twists your nipple as a silent prize. Those breathy pants in your ears make you lose your head. 

You bite your lip. Your head falls back, baring your throat. Matty takes the opportunity to kiss there, licking and biting and sucking. Claiming you. Your back shivers. You buck on him faster. 

Your eyes shut as pleasure rushes you. It’s all too intense suddenly, feeling him and seeing him. You’re desperate, the end so near you could taste it, yet too gone to properly do anything. Your thrusts are irregular, your hips grow sloppy, and your thighs strain every time you move. 

Matty licks off his bruise. He must feel your diminishing stamina because he breathes, “You take my cock so well.” You nod at him, slack and gone. “You’re doing so good, baby. Just a bit more.” 

To help, Matty slides a hand between your bodies, rubbing at your swollen clit. You gasp. Your head swims in ecstasy, heavy and off-kilter.

He wraps an arm around your waist, grounding you as he fucks into you, following your movements in tandem. “You were fucking made for me,” he whispers in your neck. Kisses it. “I need you to come on my cock now.” You nod, brainless. “Can you do that? Can you come for me, love?” 

“Yes,” you hiss, scrunching your face. You practically strangle his neck with your embrace, using his shoulders as leverage as you buck on him. His finger on your clit doesn’t relent.

“Come for me,” he practically begs. “I need to see you. I need to feel you.” Your hips shudder. Pleasure waves through you, building and building. One hand takes your cheek. “Look at me.” 

You snap your eyes open. His dark eyes meet yours. He’s so intense, so fucking desperate. You whine, he swipes your clit, and you come. 

Your head falls into his shoulder and you give up, letting go. Ecstasy washes you and you don’t bother even grinding into him. Matty holds you up, fucking into you and working through your orgasm as you shake above him, weightless, boneless. You moan his name even after you’re done, like you couldn’t quite believe it was him. 

Matty slows down to a stop, still inside of you. He kisses your shoulder. You laugh, disbelief spinning with the hot bliss. There’s something you want to say, instinctively, but you bite your tongue. 

You raise your head finally, coming back into the world. Matty grins at you, proud and fucked out. You frown at him. “You haven’t come.” You gasp at the realization, trying to slide up him even through your screaming, sore thighs. 

Matty laughs, pulling you back down on him, stopping you. “It’s okay,” he assures. His eyebrows rise suggestively. “There’s something I want to try anyway.”

You cock your head. “What?”

[satorulovebot]

so scarlet it was, maroon | chapter one

✧₊⁺ pairing — satoru gojou x journalist!reader

✧₊⁺ chapter summary — you get the chance to meet the infamous gojou satoru while working on your journalism project at suzuka circuit. what could you possibly want from him?

✧₊⁺ word count — 6.3k

✧₊⁺ warnings — nsfw (minors dni), age gap, alcohol use, mature themes, mentions of cheating, substance abuse, themes of marriage and divorce

✧₊⁺ notes — hello everyone! i asked you awhile ago on a poll which series you would like to see after cursed seas and f1 gojo won the poll and then i posted the masterlist and everyone wants it so you get it now. so here it is. and NO its not happy NEVER expect happiness from me because im allergic to it. also the reader being nosy af is inspired by me and my parents telling me i should be a journalist with how nosy i am.

series masterlist // pinterest moodboard // general masterlist

next chap. (coming soon)

You moved to Tokyo with your family when you were younger.

You grew up in a rural part of the country, surrounded by farmers and people either ready to retire or nearing the end of their lives. Your parents hated living there, and so did you—for one, there were hardly any kids to play with, and two, as your father would say, "too many old fuckers lying around."

When you moved to Tokyo, your family decided to celebrate by taking you to a Formula 1 race. Your dad thought it would be perfect for the two of you since fixing up old cars had always been your daddy-daughter activity.

You didn’t like the idea of racing at first—the noise was too loud, and the idea of people speeding toward a black-and-white checkered line seemed ridiculous. But the moment you heard the roar of the engines and watched the lights go from red to green, you were captivated, a fascination that would stay with you for years.

When you got your first computer, you began looking up videos of F1 drivers. One day, you stumbled across a video titled “The Biggest F1 Scandals in History,” and that was when you decided you wanted to go into journalism.

You were nosy, to say the least. So, it was no surprise to your parents when you announced to them that you wanted to pursue journalism as a career. Your father reminded you how you’d always been curious, listening in on others’ conversations and keeping up with the latest school drama.

When you applied for journalism school, you were accepted into one of the top programs in the world—Sophia University. Your parents were proud that you’d made it into such a highly ranked school for journalism in Japan.

You were now in your fourth and final year at Sophia, and enjoying your journalism class. Recently, your professor assigned a project: write a story about a major pop culture figure of your choice, and for extra credit, get an interview with them. Your professor knew it was damn near impossible, but he was always optimistic that one day, someone would get that interview and he could retire in peace.

That project led you here: Suzuka Circuit, Japan's main Formula 1 track. Your chosen figure was none other than Gojou Satoru—F1's biggest driver in recent years. He was your father's favorite among the new-generation drivers, known for his string of controversies since he started on top of the persistent rumors of his heavy drug use before races.

You had managed to snag a media passs from your professor when you mentioned doing an F1 driver for your project. He was able to pull some strings to get you into the media booth, getting you a closer look at Gojou Satoru in person.

You watched the pre-race preparations closely from the media booth, your fingers hovered above your notepad as you waited for the race to start. You were determined to get a good grade on this project, and that meant adding every single detail to your report about this race.

It was about time for the drivers to gather in their garages, each wearing headsets and ready for the pre-race briefing. The briefing typically covers the race start, various pit stop scenarios, and a detailed weather report. Before each race weekend, they usually spend time in a simulator of the track they'll be racing on, preparing them for the upcoming race.

After about thirty-minutes the racers came out of their garages in their respective cars. They each line up based on the results of a quaifying session that takes place before the race, slowest qualifier in the back, fastest in the front. Gojou Satoru was at the front of the grid, which meant he was one of the qualifiers who had the fastest time.

You waited around for a little while longer turning your attention to what was happening around you. Eventually, you made your way back to the front of the media booth as the race started, ready to report.

The engines revved as each driver began preparing for the start of the race, each car vibrating on the starting grid like a beast straining at its chains. Gojou sat at the front of the lineup, his hands loose on the wheel, fingers tapping in a steady rhythm as he waited for the lights to turn green.

The roar from the grandstands faded, becoming a blur of sound as the lights ticked down: red, red, red, red… green.

He slammed the throttle, feeling the raw force of the car’s engine kick him back into his seat as he tore down the straight. Other cars jostled for position behind him, all fighting to claim the inside line into the first turn.

Through his earpiece, he heard the voice of his race engineer, Shokou, calm as ever. “Clear on turn two, you’ve got five-tenths on Hayashi. Stay tight.”

But Gojou barley heard her. The car was an extension of him, responding to his every thought, every split-second decision. He pushed down the straights, his right foot heavy on the accelerator, taking corners at speeds most drivers wouldn’t dare attempt. The sound of his tires skidding against the asphalt, the blur of the track side barriers, the lights of Tokyo reflecting off his mirrors—it all blended into a single, perfect rush.

Gojou could see the next turn ahead, a tight chicane that could send the best drivers into the barriers if they weren't careful. He braked hard, turning the wheel with perfect precision to angle the car through. He could feel the back end wobbling, but he didn't flinch, drifting perfectly as he swung back onto the racing line, gaining another second on the pack.

He could almost hear the collective gasp of the crowd in his head as he slipped through the chicane. This was his playground. Every race was a chance to remind the world why he was the best.

“Coming up on a DRS zone,” Shoko’s voice crackled in his ear, grounding him, though he was already on it

He waited for the perfect moment, watching the rear-view mirror to see the faint outline of Hayashi's car. He pressed the DRS, and his car shot forward, the drag reduction giving him a temporary speed boost that had him pulling away, putting him in the lead.

The track opened up ahead, the second sector full of wide, sweeping turns. Here was where raw speed mattered more than anything. Gojou pressed down hard on the accelerator, the engine roaring in response. He leaned forward, watching the track fly by, the white lines blurring as he focused entirely on the road ahead.

For a second, the sound in his earpiece went dead, the faint sound of static filling his ears. Then Shokou was back. “You’ve got Yoshida closing in on your tail. He’s pushing hard.”

Gojou glanced up at the mirrors, his eyes catching the bright blue and orange of Yoshida's car looming larger. The familiar thrill sparked in him. So, Yoshida thought he had a chance, did he? Well, he’d show him otherwise.

“Copy,” he muttered into his mic, eyes narrowing as he took the next corner, barley touching the brakes. He felt the tires skid but he managed to control the drift, knowing any slip would open the door for Yoshida to slip past.

He whipped into another straight, his hands steady on the wheel as he hit a top speed.

His foot didn’t so much as twitch as the engine’s roar morphed into a high-pitched scream as the car closed the distance.

The curve ahead was brutal—a tight 90-degree bend that demanded precise timing.

In a split-second decision, he did something no one expected. He braked late, his heart pounding as he cut the turn at a speed that sent the back end skidding. The tires gripped just in time, allowing him to pull out of the corner without losing traction. He could almost feel the shock reverberating as he regained control, his lead still intact.

As the laps wore on, his body moved on instinct, every gear shift, every turn becoming a single, fluid motion. One lap. Two. Three, with two pit stops between. He counted them off one by one, his mind buzzing with the pure rush of speed and the heat inside the car, barely noticing the time passing. The crowd faded into nothing, the world shrinking down to the track and his car.

The final lap. This was it.

“Box this lap if you’re in trouble,” Shokou’s voice crackled again. “Tire degradation is high.”

But Gojou’s grip on the steering wheel only tightened. His front tires were holding out—barely. It would be tight, but he could make it. He’d run this last lap on sheer determination alone if he had to.

“Negative, Shokou. I’m taking it,” he replied, and then turned off the earpiece, tuning out everything except the track and the car in front of him.

He launched into the final lap, throwing caution to the wind. Yoshida was right on his tail now, close enough that he could see the gleam of his headlights in the mirrors. But Gojou didn’t back down. He took each turn aggressively, blocking Yoshida's attempts to pass, forcing him to fall back every time.

The last chicane loomed ahead, his final obstacle before the finish line. He tightened his grip, the wheel trembling under his hands. He took the chicane fast, too fast, almost feeling the wheels lift off the ground as he flew out of the turn. The car rocked, but he held steady, pushing the pedal to the floor.

The finish line was in sight, a faint white line at the end of the straight, and with one last push, he crossed it, the checkered flag waving in his periphery as he tore past.

It was only after he’d crossed over the line that the realization hit him—he’d won.

The cheers erupted in the stands, the roar of the crowd filling his ears as he slowed down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He could hear Shoko’s voice crackling back in as she shouted, “You pulled it off, you insane bastard.”

Gojou grinned, leaning back in his seat, still buzzing. He’d done it again, just as he always did.

The moment he climbed out of the cockpit, Gojou was surrounded by his team. Shokou was the first to reach him, her usually composed face split by a wide grin. She grabbed his helmet and thumped him on the shoulder hard enough so he actually felt it though the layers of his suit.

“You reckless son of a—”

“Language, Shokou,” Gojou interrupted, grinning as he yanked off his gloves, waving to the rest of the Tokyo Jujutsu Racing team that swarmed him.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you pull stunts like that? I’m gonna need a raise after today’s heart attack,” she muttered.

“Oh, come on, Shokou. That was just a little fun.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Where’s my confetti?”

“Coming right up, your royal highness." Someone handed him a bottle of champagne, still cold and slick, and he twisted the cap, spraying a wild arc of foam that showered his team and nearby fans.

His PR manager, Nanami, clapped him on the back. “You’re insufferable."

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, lifting the champagne bottle in a mock toast, flashing him a grin. The media’s cameras clicked and flashed, capturing every moment as his crew continued their congratulations.

The crowd pressed close against the barriers, shouting his name, waving homemade banners with scribbled slogans and his number embellished with the colors red and black. He walked closer, one arm raised, acknowledging the fans, letting their cheers fill him up, louder and louder with every step.

But as he continued walking, his gaze caught on something—or rather, someone—just beyond the crowd.

At first it was just a hint curiosity, the way your gaze was fixed on him. A bit removed from the chaos, you leaned against one of the barriers with a media pass hanging around your neck, arms folded as you watched from a distance.

Gojou slightly narrowed his eyes, holding your gaze longer than he'd held any fan's tonight, as if he was daring you to look away first.

“What the hell is that about?” he muttered under his breath, gaze moving back to Shokou for half a second.

“Hm?” Shokou followed his gaze, but her eyes slid right past you, uninterested. “Press. You’ll get used to it. Come on, they’re all waiting.”

He forced himself to break the stare, clearing his throat as Shokou ushered him toward the media pen, where a lineup of journalists waited, all armed with recorders, microphones, and notebooks.

He fielded the usual questions—how did it feel to win, what was his mindset, what was he thinking on that last turn? His answers were always the same practiced ones, words sliding out like clockwork.

“Well, Mr. Gojou, what would you say to those who believe your racing style is a little… aggressive?” one journalist asked, a little smirk on her face as if she thought she was catching him off guard.

He snorted. “They can call it what they want. I call it winning.” He shrugged. “I don’t come out here to play it safe.”

A few reporters laughed at his remark, clearly interested in what else he had to say as a fresh wave of questions started.

Somewhere behind the flashing lights, he saw you again, lingering a few feet behind the crowd of reporters with that calm gaze fixed on him. You didn’t raise a recorder or a camera, didn’t even make an effort to push closer for a question. You just… watched.

It was disconcerting.

“Gojou!” Another journalist waved a microphone his face, snapping his attention back to the current situation. “What’s the next step for you this season?”

He forced a smile, eyes briefly looking back to you before he focused on the question. “The same as always,” he said. “Push harder, get faster, and give everyone something to talk about.”

The crowd laughed again, though, he barely heard them, too focused on the strange woman staring right into his soul. The two of you locked eyes and you have him a small nod, as if acknowledging that you were in fact staring into his soul.

“Well, I think that’s enough,” Shokou said suddenly at his elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts. “They’ll have plenty of time to hound you later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, though he let her guide him away. Still, he couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder, hoping to catch one last glimpse of you.

But you were already gone.

Gojou slipped away from the crowd, weaving through the bustling garage and dodging the congratulatory slaps on his back, the endless rounds of handshakes, and the celebratory shouts. He ducked past a few journalists, ignoring the barrage of questions still hurled his way, his smile slipping as he finally found the door to the bathroom.

Inside, the cool, sterile silence was jarring compared to the noise outside, but he let out a sigh of relief, his heart hammering in his chest. He clicked the lock and leaned against the sink, running his hands over his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.

The victory high had worn off, leaving behind a familiar pressure he could not cope with. It settled on his shoulders like an old, unwelcome friend.

He hadn't realized how much tension he was carrying in his shoulders, how deeply it would itself into him when he was alone. The race had been perfect, his win flawless, but he could feel the exhaustion radiating off of him, a pulsing throb being his eyes. He clenched his jaw, glaring at himself in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

But his words fell flat, swallowed up by the silence. In the mirror, his own eyes stared back at him, tired, almost hollow.

He reached into the pocket of his racing suit, fingers brushing over the small, familiar packet hidden in the inner lining. It was a stupid habit, a reckless one really, but it was one he hadn't been able to shake, no matter how many times he tried to quit. He could practically feel the temporary relief in the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, running his thumb along the edge of the packet before pulling it out, setting it on the counter next to the sink. He ripped it open tapping a small line onto the smooth counter top. It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, as if it was part of his routine of suiting up or gripping the wheel.

The powder glinted under the bathroom’s harsh fluorescent lights, almost mocking him with its simplicity. Just a quick escape, just enough to take the edge off. That’s all he needed.

He leaned down, closing one nostril and inhaling sharply, feeling the sting as the powder hit his nose. He straightened his back, blinking hard, the world around him sharpening as his mind cleared. A small, humorless smile tugged at his lips.

He leaned back against the sink, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling, feeling his heartbeat slow, the tension in his muscles fading away.

But it didn’t take long for the guilt to creep back in, that hollow feeling settling in his chest, a reminder that this wasn't the answer. He knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to himself, how he was destroying his body from the inside out, how it could all come crashing down. And yet… here he was.

“Fucking pathetic,” he muttered to himself, his voice echoing against the tiles.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, jolting him back to reality.

“Gojou? You in there?” It was Shokou. “They’re waiting for you out here.”

He stuffed the empty packet back into his pocket, brushed the last of the substance off of the sink, and glanced in the mirror one last time to check his reflection, making sure there was no trace left of his momentary escape.

Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, forced a smirk, and unlocked the door.

Shokou was standing there, arms crossed, her gaze scrutinizing as he stepped out. She didn’t say anything, but her judgmental eye lingered over him for a split second too long.

“You good?”

“Never better."

“Right,” she said, clearly unconvinced, but she dropped it, gesturing for him to follow her.

As the celebrations continued, Gojou weaved his way through fans and team-members alike who were still wrapped up in their post-race celebrations. He scanned the crowd, hoping to find the strange woman from earlier who he noticed had a press pass, thinking you would be here.

And then he saw you, leaning against a stack of crates near the garages, observing the current scene with the same judgmental eyes that Shokou had. The media badge hung from your neck, swaying slightly as you shifted your weight, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it, seemingly absorbed in what you were currently doing.

He cleared his throat as he approached, the echo of his footsteps giving his presence away.

You looked up, your brow raised as he came closer, a hint of intrigue flashing in your eyes.

“Looking for something?” you asked, not moving as he stopped in front of you.

“You could say that,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets, his gaze darted to the notebook in your hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, off in the shadows. Didn’t feel like joining the crowd?”

“Not my style.” You shrugged. “I’m not here to cheer. I’m here to report.”

“Journalist, huh?” he drawled, tilting his head. “What’s your angle?”

“The truth,” you said, a little smile pulling at your lips as you studied him. “Not everyone’s a fan of that, I know.”

“Depends on what you call the truth. But I’ve got a feeling you’ve already got your version.”

"How perceptive. I’m doing a piece on your racing career, your achievements, but… the public wants a fuller picture, don’t you think?

“Not sure I follow. Everyone knows what they need to know.”

“Not quite,” you replied, flipping through your notebook. “There’s more than just racing stats when it comes to Gojou Satoru, isn’t there?”

“Care to elaborate?”

“People say you’re… unraveling. Your recent ‘questionable decisions’ are starting to paint a different picture, don’t you think?” you said, tapping your pen against your notebook. “The accidents, the fines, the constant change in pit crews—”

“Is this some kind of witch hunt?” he interrupted. “Because I’d hate to disappoint you, princess, but I’ve heard it all.”

“Maybe so.” You leaned in a bit, meeting his stare. “But what about the whispers that aren’t out yet? The suspicions about you cheating the drug tests, your team shielding you—” You paused. “There’s a lot of money on your success, Mr. Gojou.”

“Money and racing have always gone hand-in-hand, don’t you think? You’d have a hard time finding someone out here who hasn’t bent a rule or two.”

“True enough.” You titled your head slightly. “But even the most golden careers have a way of losing their shine.”

"Tell me—do you enjoy tearing people down for a living?”

“Only if it’s warranted,” you replied unfazed. “People aren’t interested in perfect stories. They want the flaws, the dirt. It makes it all more real. At least that's what my professor believes."

“You’ve got a wicked mind, I’ll give you that. But I hope you realize you’re not the first to come sniffing around for the ‘real story’.”

A pregnant pause settles between you before you asked, “And what about her?”

A beat passed before he answered. “Who?”

“Your wife. She’s been… noticeably absent from the press circuits. And rumor has it things aren’t exactly picture-perfect between you two.”

“Rumor has it,” he repeated. “Guess you know how it is in this business. There’s always some rumor or another.”

“So it’s just a rumor, then? All the time apart, the missed events, her name suddenly missing from every headline. You’re saying there’s nothing to it?”

“People are eager to make stories out of nothing. My private life is just that—private.”

“That’s interesting,” you murmured, not looking away. “Because the most recent stories about you and her—they’re awfully detailed. People are noticing, wondering why she’s suddenly… disappeared from the scene.”

“Let them wonder. Like I said, people will talk. And it seems like you’re more interested in gossip than journalism.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Journalism is about uncovering the truth,” you countered. “But it seems like you’re more comfortable brushing things under the rug than addressing them.”

His smile returned, his carefully crafted facade sliding back into place as he straightened up, glancing away from you, clearly bored of the conversation. "Maybe someday you'll get the truth you're so desperate for, but it's not going to be today."

Before he walked away completely, he gave you one last look, his tone playful but laced with a hint of warning. “Be careful what you dig up, princess. Sometimes the truth’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

And with that, he turned his back to you, disappearing into the crowd.

Gojou returned home after the long night of celebrations had died down, the adrenaline from the race long gone, now replaced by a gnawing emptiness that felt like it might hollow him out. His penthouse was in the hear of Tokyo—a sleek, modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the neon-drenched skyline.

As he opened the door, the soft him of the city below was drowned out by the sound of footsteps, His wife, Hana, appeared from the hallway, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her eyes narrowed. She was dressed in a sleek black outfit, her dark hair pulled back, a looking a frustration etched onto her face.

“You’re late."

“Didn’t realize I was on a curfew,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t act like that.” Her eyes flashed as she followed him into the living room. “You missed the dinner with my parents again. They’ve been asking about you, wondering why you’re never around.”

“Hana, I just won a race,” he replied, exasperated. “Sorry if I wasn’t in the mood to play the doting son-in-law tonight.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “Of course, it’s always about the race with you. Everything is about that damn career, isn’t it?”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.”

“Maybe I didn’t know it would mean you disappearing for days, weeks sometimes, chasing whatever thrill you think you need to feel alive.”

“What’s your point, Hana? We’ve had this argument a hundred times.”

“The point is, Satoru,” she said, voice trembling with anger, “that you seem to care more about everything else than this marriage. I’m just a fixture in your life, something you come back to whenever you need to check a box or show face. But you’re never really here.”

He let out a harsh laugh, the bitter sound filling the apartment. "Here we go again. Hana, it’s not like you’ve been some shining example of commitment either. You’ve known what this is for months.”

“What this is?” Her voice rose, cracking slightly as she repeated his words. “What exactly is ‘this,’ Satoru? A sham? A partnership for appearances? I thought you loved me…"

“I can’t keep doing this,” she continued softly, her voice breaking. “The lying, the pretending. It’s exhausting.”

“So what do you want me to say, Hana? That I’m some perfect husband?” He gestured to himself, shaking his head with a smirk that looked almost pained. “We’re both guilty here. Let’s not act like this hasn’t been a slow-motion train wreck.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“Fine. But do me a favor—at least act like you care when people ask. Because every time I hear some story about you, another scandal or rumor, it’s like a slap in the face. My family, my friends—everyone’s talking. They see the headlines too.”

“What do you want from me, Hana?” he asked quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of him. “You want me to pretend I’m someone I’m not?”

“I want… I wanted the man I married. The one who cared, who had dreams."

“Then maybe,” he said finally, his voice almost a whisper, “it’s time to stop pretending.”

As Gojou stood there running a hand through his hair. Hana paused, her expression shifting from something resigned to something wounded.

“And there’s one more thing."

He looked at her, brow furrowing. “Fucking Christ Hana, what now?”

“Do you think I’m stupid, Satoru?” she asked, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “I know what’s out there. The rumors. The whispers about who you’re with when you’re not here. Or maybe you think I don’t hear them.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Hana, they’re just rumors. You know how the press is—they’ll twist anything for a story.”

“Twist what, exactly? Why do they have something to twist in the first place?”

“They don’t have anything. It’s just the media looking for something to make people read. Speculation sells.”

“Right. Speculation. But funny how it’s always about you, always linked to another woman.”

“That’s because I’m under a microscope. People love to create scandals, especially with someone like me. And you know that better than anyone.”

“It’s not just them, Satoru. People talk, and it’s not just baseless gossip. I’m not naive. I hear things from people close to you, people who actually know you.”

“You really believe them? You think I’m out there, risking everything for some—” He stopped himself, biting his tongue.

“Do I? I don’t even know my own husband anymore. Maybe I should ask them. Or maybe I should ask you directly, Satoru. Are you seeing someone?”

“Why are we even doing this?”

“Because I want the truth. Just once. I deserve that much, don’t I?”

“Believe what you want, Hana. I don’t have anything else to say.”

“Then maybe that’s all I need to know.”

Gojou stormed out of his apartment, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to shake off his frustration. He'd had enough for one night. His heart was pounding and the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts. He needed to get out, to drown the anger with something that could at least help him forget.

The bar he found was tucked away down a dim side street in Shibuya. It wasn't anything fancy–a dark cry from the glitzy nightlife he was used to–but it was dark and quiet which was exactly what he needed. He slid onto a bar stool and motioned for a drink, not bothering to pay attention to what the bartender poured.

He sipped his drink in silence, trying to tune out the night and all the noise in his head. The alcohol burned down his throat, but it was a welcome distraction that numbed his anger and frustration. He was almost on his third drink when he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room, hunched over a notebook, tapping her pen against her cheek in thought.

She's cute, he thought to himself. He squinted trying to get a better look at the young woman, and he immediately recognized, it was you.

Of all the places he'd expect to see you, this shitty bar wasn't one of them. You looked so absorbed in your work, like you were piecing together something for a story. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he stood up carrying his drink as he made his way over to where you were sitting.

"Well, well," he said, leaning against the back of the chair across from you. “Didn’t peg you for a bar rat, but maybe I was wrong.”

Your head snapped up, and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Gojou Satoru. What a surprise.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already taking the seat.

“Didn’t think someone like you would end up in a place like this. Celebrating?”

He gave a dry laugh, swirling the glass in his hand. “Something like that.”

“So, what are you doing here, really? Figured you’d be at a fancy cafe, writing about some important news story.”

“Maybe I am. Research is research, even if it’s in a bar. Maybe it’s you I’m writing about.”

“So I’m your new project, huh?”

“Maybe. It’s part of this little journalism course I’m doing. We’re supposed to pick a public figure and write a profile. Someone who’s got a… colorful public image.”

“Colorful, huh?” He smirked. “Guess I’m your lucky target. Hope I make an interesting subject."

“Interesting is one word for it,” you replied, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. “What’s got you so quiet tonight? I thought you’d be surrounded by fans somewhere.”

He shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not in the mood for fans tonight.”

“Tough race?”

He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Not the race. Just… life, I guess.”

“So,” he said, leaning in. “tell me about this little journalism course. You planning to make a career out of stalking poor drivers like me?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. We’re learning how to ‘uncover the truth’—or at least, that’s what they say. So far, it’s been a lot of digging through archives and learning to ask the right questions.”

“Right questions, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Let’s hear one. What would you ask me, if I were your ‘colorful public figure’?”

“Alright, Gojou. How does someone at the top of their game manage to keep it all together? All the races, the publicity, the pressure… don’t you ever feel like it’s too much?”

“Honestly?” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing away. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks, being the guy everyone thinks has it all together. But people don’t care about that part. They just want the show.”

“So you put on the show.”

“Guess that’s what it comes down to.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. “People don’t want to see a guy crack under pressure. They want the image.”

“But what do you want?”

No one ever asked him that, as if what he wanted didn’t matter.

“What do I want?” he repeated, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tried to dodge the question. “Maybe another drink.”

I’m serious. Behind all of that… what’s left?”

“Honestly? Sometimes I don’t even know anymore. It’s like I’ve been going so fast for so long, I can’t remember what it was I was chasing in the first place.”

“Maybe that’s what you need to figure out, then.”

He looked at you, and the faintest trace of a genuine smile broke through. “Maybe.”

The two of you sat in silence, and he found himself grateful for it. You didn't press or pry at him and he thought that he could just be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“Alright,” he said finally, nudging your notebook with his finger. “So, future journalist, you really gonna write all this down? Make me sound like some tortured artist?”

You smirked. “I’ll try to be kind. Maybe I’ll even leave out the part where you go to bars alone and pretend to be mysterious.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, holding up his drink in mock surrender. “Noted. But I expect a copy when it’s published. Autographed, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you replied, laughing as you clinked your glass against his. “But don’t expect it to be flattering.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As the conversation continued, Gojou found himself leaning in closer. You both let the drinks keep coming, though it was less about how much alcohol you were consuming and more about the way the words spilled more easily between you two.

“So,” you asked, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s it actually like out there? Everyone sees the fame, the money, the cars, but… what’s it really like?”

He exhaled, tapping his fingers on the edge of his glass. “Honestly? It’s… intense. There’s this high to it, this adrenaline. Nothing like it. You’re pushing yourself and everyone around you to the edge," he tilted his head. “But sometimes, it feels like the line between winning and crashing out isn’t as thick as people think. You cross it once, and that’s it—you’re done.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?”

“A little. But I’m more afraid of what happens if I stop. It’s like… I don’t know what I’d be without it. Guess that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t. I get it. When something’s all you know… giving it up is like giving up a part of yourself. Scary as hell.”

“Exactly. Guess we all have our addictions, huh?”

Shit. Did he say too much?

You didn’t push, just gave him a quiet nod. “So, what’s Tokyo Jujutsu like? It's one of the toughest team on the grid, right?”

“You know it. They’re tough as hell, no room for error. And they sure as hell won’t give you a second chance if you mess up.”

“Sounds brutal."

“Yeah, maybe. I guess I like the challenge. Or maybe I just like proving people wrong.”

“Enough about me," he continued. What about you? What’s the deal with this journalism project? Are you trying to make a name for yourself by exposing all my secrets?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Believe it or not, my goal in life isn’t to ruin yours. I actually think it’s fascinating, learning what drives people, what keeps them going, even when things get messy.”

“Messy? What makes you think my life is messy?”

“Oh, please. Gojou Satoru’s life is one headline after another. You’re practically the poster boy for drama.”

He feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me. I’m just a guy trying to make a living, you know?”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just a guy who happens to have a dozen scandals and an equal number of speeding tickets.”

“Hey,” he laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m a professional, okay? That’s all part of the job.”

The two of you continued to chat into the night. Gojou found himself relaxing, caught up in the rare comfort of talking with someone who didn’t expect him to play a part. He could just… be.

At some point, the bartender announced last call, and Gojou glanced at you, smirking. “Guess that’s our cue.”

You stretched, gathering your notebook and tucking it under your arm. “Thanks for the, uh, ‘research material.’ It was… enlightening.”

He laughed, standing and grabbing his coat. “Anytime. But don’t go making me look like a complete asshole in your little project, alright?”

“No promises."

Outside, the air was crisp as he faint hum of city traffic the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slid his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

Outside, the air was crisp as the faint him of the city being the only sound as you stood together on the quiet street. Gojou slide his hands into his pockets, looking at you.

“Maybe we’ll run into each other again."

“Only if you’re brave enough to handle more questions.”

“Oh, I’m plenty brave. But we’ll see if you’re as good at digging as you think.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to leave, throwing him a casual wave. “Goodnight, Mr. Gojou.”

“Goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you disappeared down the empty street.

In that moment he realized, he never did catch your name.

© satorulovebot 2024 please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[tiffanys-aus-and-headcanons]

Terrible Visions

A scrambled timeline is a timeline that has proceeded much like ours, except that some particular facet has been mixed up all over the place. For example, in the scrambled timeline we will consider today, our world's fictional stories have been told by different people, and in different ways.

Bryan Lee O'Malley, in this alternate timeline, is best known as the cartoonist responsible for Homestuck, a popular comic series about a group of children who become embroiled in a cosmic-scale video game known as Sburb. Although Homestuck is probably most often associated with the cult classic Edgar Wright-directed film adaptation released in 2016, the comics themselves are highly-regarded, and the film brought a new audience to them. Netflix has commissioned an animated continuation, The Homestuck Epilogues, which is due to be released soon.

Andrew Hussie, on the other hand, is a figure you're likelier to know if you're overly online. His "MS Paint Adventures" series - most notably including Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, which is kind of like Homestuck but weirder and hornier - have firmly remained a fixture of obsessive Twitter fandom culture. It doesn't help that the best-known iteration, Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, is infamous for stretching thousands of pages of meandering digressions out of a simple and focused narrative starting point. Scott Pilgrim fans have developed something of a toxic reputation, which is not entirely deserved - although of course Knives discourse is interminable, and back in the fandom's heyday there were reportedly incidents of fans assaulting each other "for being evil exes".

Scott Pilgrim fandom was very big back in the day, though, and consequently it was a nexus for other creative figures who would go on to surpass Hussie. Perhaps foremost among these is indie developer Toby Fox. He was literally living in Hussie's basement when he produced ROSEQUARTZ, a universally-beloved retro Goonies-like RPG about a human hybrid boy born to a race of gem-based aliens. He's now developing an episodic spiritual successor, RAZORQUEST, with more overtly dark themes. It revolves around an inheritance dispute among a demon-summoning family.

Other foundational figures in this timeline's internet culture include Alison Bechdel, who helped get the webcomic scene started. Although she's now more seriously acclaimed for her personal memoirs, her gaming webcomic Press Start To Dyke, which premiered in 1998, was once everywhere. It had a broad appeal, and at its height, it was common to see even straight guys sharing pages from it. Time has not been especially kind to it, though, and at this point its main legacy is test.png, a meme spawned by one of the comic's most ill-advised pages.

Then there's John C. McCrae, more often known by his pseudonym Wildbow. A prolific and reclusive author of doorstopping "web serials" - long-form fiction published online - McCrae's best-known serial is still his first, Wind, a noir superhero story set in an alternate history where capes are mostly just a subculture of unpowered vigilantes. Wind landed in a culture already rife with comic book deconstructions, like Alan Moore's 2002 graphic novel Worm Turns, but it nonetheless managed to stand out from the pack with its extensive cast of characters and its themes of coordination problems and the end of the world. Later McCrae web serials include Part (the first "Otherverse" serial; an urban fantasy story about a couple who die in a car accident and find that they have become ghosts), Tear (a "biopunk" story set in a collapsing underwater city), Warn (the controversial Wind sequel), and Play (the second "Otherverse" serial, set in a small Indiana town that helps hide a psychic girl from the CIA).

Last and perhaps least, we should discuss J. K. Rowling. Far and away the most famous of any of these authors, Rowling's name is inseparable from the YA series that she debuted with, the Luz Noceda books, which remain her one successful work. Although it was heavily derivative of older fantasy novels - like Jill Murphy's Academy For Little Witches, or Philip Pullman's Methods Of Rationality trilogy - Luz Noceda was still a monumental and unprecedented success in the publishing industry, and the film adaptations were consistent blockbusters. The final book, Luz Noceda and the Watcher of Rain, contained some allusions to a romantic relationship between Luz and her recently-redeemed associate Amity. Rowling confirmed that this was her intent in subsequent interviews and indicated that she had fought her publishers for it; the film would then go on to escalate matters slightly further.

There have been many lengthy and heated online arguments as to whether the references in the book itself constitute text or mere subtext. Whatever your stance on this discourse, a new complication has been introduced recently: although she has put out no official statement on the matter as of yet, it has become quite apparent from Rowling's shrinking network of contacts and her conspicuous silences that she is certainly TERF-sympathetic, and likely an outright TERF herself. For many, this is leading to a critical reevaluation of the social values inherent in the Luz Noceda series; others, to say the least, are holding off on that kind of reappraisal.

Anyway, Scott Pilgrim just beat Luz Noceda in a Twitter poll for Most Gay Media, and people are piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Who is Vegetta?

Had to wait until my hands stopped shaking for this one, I love Vegetta so much. He was recently — miraculously — announced for the QSMP, so here's a rundown for English fans of both who he is and his lore. 

Vegetta777 is a Spanish Youtuber who is one of, if not THE biggest pillar of the Spanish community. He's been doing content for over 15 years now.

He's the creator of the Karmaland series, which he started when he was around Quackity's age.

I cannot emphasize enough: Vegetta doesn't do series or events or tournaments EVER, so him accepting the invitation is a huge deal. This was his exact commentary on it:

Vegetta: Quackity me invitó hace tiempo y le dije que no suelo entrar a series que yo puedo controlar, pero le he dado ese voto de confianza, además le pregunté como sería la serie porque no quería nada competitivo y quackity me dijo que no me preocupara por nada. [...] Si yo confíe en quackity y él confío en mi para Karmaland pues yo le doy ese voto de confianza para esta serie que está haciendo y además se le veía emocionado al chaval, si te soy sincero, Quackity el hijo de Rubius de cierto modo Translation: Quackity invited me a while ago and I told him that I don't usually enter series that I can't control, but I have given him that vote of confidence, I also asked him how the series would be because I didn't want anything competitive, and Quackity told me not to worry about anything (does this confirm QSMP is an RP server? 🤔) [...] If I trust Quackity and he trusts me for Karmaland, well, I give him that vote of confidence for this series he's doing. And also the boy looked excited, if I'm honest, Quackity's the son of Rubius in a certain way. (🥺💕)

Vegetta is very fond of Quackity after interacting with him in Karmaland 5, and he's spoken multiple times about how much Quackity's impressed him. He also said Quackity will be bigger than him someday :') He's very supportive of the new generation, and he spoke highly of Spreen today too.

Vegetta is one of the most talented Minecraft builders out there, and he's fast

While most of the other Karmaland boys were still living in basic houses, Vegetta built a CASTLE within a super short time

Vegetta loves cats. In Karmaland he had an entire cat rescue with 50+ cats (and yes, he’s named every single one of them). IRL, he shares lots of adorable cat photos and videos. 

His skin, like his name, is based on the Dragon Ball character Vegeta. Vegetta777 is basically the yassified version of Vegeta (just like Phil is the yassified version of Uruhara).

In Karmaland 5, Vegetta was a bit of a wizard, and he had a flock of crows / ravens (remind you of anyone?) 

Vegetta is sometimes called "the father of Minecraft", so many people (myself included) are ESPECIALLY excited to see him and Phil interact because they have a lot of similarities.

Vegetta is one of the heroes of Karmaland and the unofficial leader of their group. In terms of lore, he's essentially a demigod / minor god, though it's not as direct as Sapo  Peta's contact with them.

Vegetta is typically a staunch rule-follower, however, since he's not in control of the series, he said: "I feel like Rubius: 'Let's see what I can do to destroy everything, let's look for all the legal loopholes,' get ready Quackity, I'm the new Rubius!" (LMAO)

Vegetta’s the king of “stay in your own lane” he never gets into drama or gets involved in controversies, he just watches the dumpster fires from the sidelines like the rest of us

He almost never wears a shirt in the series (and honestly? Good for him)

His character is also, canonically, absolutely shredded

It's impossible to talk about Vegetta's lore without also talking about Rubius, so buckle in because this one's a doozy. I can't cover everything without this post becoming longer than it already is, but I'll do my best to summarize what I can:

Starting with Karmaland 4 and continuing into Karmaland 5 and beyond, Rubius and Vegetta have created the world's most torturous slow-burn telenovela-esque love story.

Rubegetta (Rubius x Vegetta) is the most popular Karmaland ship that, to some extent, has become an inside joke between the boys and the community. I'll elaborate on this more in Rubius' post.

To simplify years and years of lore and drama, Rubius and Vegetta love each other, but they are incapable of being in an actual relationship. I've talked about it in depth before, but Vegetta said it best in this metaphor-filled exchange with Sapo Peta and Willy: Sapo Peta: I wanted to ask you about your relationship with that Rubius guy. Vegetta: Oh, yes well Rubius likes to be with me a lot, but at the same time he likes to snack everywhere, and he never finishes eating the morcilla (blood sausage). Sapo Peta: So he rejects you? Vegetta: It's not that he rejects me, it's that it doesn't finish clearing up, you know? We could say that our relationship is like a hamburger. WiIIy: You prepare it and he doesn't eat it. Vegetta: Exactly, he doesn't finish you know?

Or, as another person phrased it:

The fault doesn't just lie with Rubius however; Vegetta himself can be pretty oblivious.

In Karmaland 4, despite the fact Rubius and Vegetta had a kid together and got married, it still didn't resolve anything. As soon as the vows were said and they were married, Rubius revealed it was all just a ploy to get Vegetta's diamonds and immediately asked for a divorce.

You can watch a translated animation of the entire wedding here.

In Karmaland 5, after deciding he'd had enough of Rubius' BS, Vegetta decided to marry someone else (Lolito), but Rubius burst in at the last moment to stop the wedding. We all thought he'd finally confess his love and stop being so emotionally constipated, but instead he proposed to Lolito solely so Vegetta would remain single. (They're a mess, what can I say)

To quote a meme shared by another Spanish fan, Vegetta's reaction to that was basically: “You don’t want me to be with you, and you don’t want me to be with someone else. How miserable do I have to be for you to be happy?”

I do want to emphasize that even though Rubius and Vegetta sometimes have relationship issues / communication issues, it doesn’t diminish their friendship in the slightest. Even after both wedding disasters, they were back to speaking to each other the next week, being flirty and laughing together. Yes, they have issues, but their love for each other remains – despite everything.

(I should also note here that, even while engaged to Lolito, Vegetta was still flirty with Rubius).

Vegetta is very close friends with Luzu, who supported him during the fallout from both failed marriages.

In Karmaland 4, Rubius and Vegetta had a son named Brayan Dobluque (a mix of both their names).

There's too much Rubegetta lore for me to cover everything, but Glay has a massive thread of translated Rubegetta clips I highly recommend watching if you'd like more context.

One clip I recommend is the Meteor date, which is one of the few instances where Rubius is honest vis-à-vis his emotions with Vegetta.

As a whole, their friendship / relationship is a romcom novela for sure, but sometimes they'll catch you off-guard with some romantic BS that'll make your heart ache. They really do love each other; they just don't know how to commit.

Vegetta is bi! (Both real life Vegetta and character Vegetta). Pretty much every single character in Karmaland is on the ‘ol rainbow spectrum somewhere.

Lore aside, I feel like Vegetta, and pretty much all the Karmaland boys in general, have the least machismo (toxic masculinity) I've ever seen. They're all genuinely sweet guys who aren't afraid to be flirty and play gay characters in their queer little telenovela Minecraft series. (With the exception of Willy, who we like to joke is the "token straight friend"). Vegetta's a cool guy, and he's a great addition to the QSMP. I'm excited for you all to meet him!

Other info posts:

Who is Sapo Peta? | Who is Luzu? | Who is Spreen?

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?”

Or

An interview gives unique insight into Pedro Pascal and his vast amount of love for his wife

I make my way through meeting the cast of HBO's unexpected hit “The Last Of Us” rather easily.

Bella Ramsey lives in a far nicer apartment in London than anything I would have been able to afford at the same age. Despite their fame and talent, they remain settled and down to earth, dressed in an outfit a little too cool for me to understand and eager to show me around their lovely apartment that is decorated in a way that I quite liked but I'm sure my baby boomer father would find offensive. I even end up meeting Ramsey's girlfriend, a fellow actor (who I admittedly had never heard of) who is equally as young and pretty as Ramsey is. They are both lovely and down to earth, a sentiment I don't often find relatable working with celebrities.

Kaitlin Denver is in her late 20s and still looks like she could be in high school. She lives in a shared house with her sister, whom she also shares a music career with. Despite the controversy surrounding her character in the show, she seems to remain completely unfazed by the backlash and threats that surround Abby Anderson. Denver merley shrugs when I ask her how she deals with it, leaving me to assume her vices when it comes to dealing with unprecedented hate.

I meet other stars of the show too. Gabriel Luna has all the southern charm of Tommy Miller and more, making me question whether he really does any acting when playing the sweeter, younger Texan brother. Isabela Merced is very beautiful in person and is also far shorter than I had imagined. What she lacks in height she makes up for in personality and charm.

Of course, when you think of the stars of The Last Of Us, there is probably someone else that comes to mind. Securing an interview with Pedro Pascal is probably one of the harder things I have had to do in recent years. It's not that Pacal is hard to come by; in fact, in recent years we haven't been able to escape him. I originally doubted that I would even be able to secure an interview with the internet's "daddy." Pascal has had a busy few years, and this one is no different. With multiple projects coming out this year, including the new season of The Last Of Us and his highly anticipated entry into the MCU as the iconic Richard Reed, it seems that everyone wants a piece of him. While all the other actors on this list do have notable careers outside of the show, the point of this interview series was to be able to interview the main cast members of the show in anticipation for the new season; however, I found that same sentiment hard to carry across when interviewing Pascal. I don't want to spoil the show for anyone, but I will just say that he won't be back next season. Whether that's due to internal conflicts or simply being too booked, we’ll never know.

I was rather ecstatic to receive a phone call from someone on his team letting me know the time and date for our interview. Like normal, I'm given an NDA to sign before receiving any personal information, such as his address (which I did require for the purpose of the interview). But everything else seems to go off without a hitch. 

I was admittedly nervous to meet him. In the best way possible, his reputation definitely proceeds him. Pascal is only ever described as kind, loving, funny, and any other positive synonyms for a massive sweetheart that you can think of. I personally have been a big fan of his work since he played forever thirsted over narcos agent Javier Paner. I know they say you shouldn't meet your idols (and trust me, I've had my fair share of heartbreaking realizations that someone I once admired is actually a piece of shit), but I had high hopes for meeting Pedro. And I am happy to report that it did not disappoint. 

I arrived at his home in Los Angeles ten minutes earlier than I should have. Not that I'm kept waiting, as before I can get a second knock in on the door, a young woman flings it open, smiling at me tightly. She quickly lets me in, introducing herself as Pascal's assistant, offering me tea or coffee, and ushering me to sit down on the comfy-looking couch while I wait for her boss to arrive (which she insists should not be too long). I take a moment to look around the room while I'm waiting. The room is sweet and welcoming, much like the rest of the home, which feels very well... homely (like stepping into your best friend's house and chatting with their parents at the dinner table). It's a hard feeling to describe, such a sense of nostalgia from a place that I had never been in before. It feels fitting though that a man so beloved as Pedro Pascal should have a home that feels so nice. I snoop to get a closer look at the photos that hang up on the walls and sit on cabinets. Most of them seem normal. There are a few faces I recognize within the photos; Oscar Iscac can be spotted alongside a younger-looking Pascal in one of the photos on the wall. I spot John Favro amongst a few people in a photo that looks to have been taken on the set of The Mandelorian, but apart from that, the photos seem normal. They depict family and friends in various places over various years; it appears that Pascal cherishes his relationships with loved ones above all else. 

I'm stopped in my snooping by another face in one of the photos, a face I recognize instantly, a face that has been all over the internet and tabloids for some time now. Pedro's wife. The photo is the first one in which she features prominently, sitting alongside what I can only assume to be one of her husband's sisters. It's a sweet photo, one that I can imagine Pedro was on the other side of, grinning wildly while taking. Y/N Pascal is an elusive figure that the media and her husband's fans have been trying to know better for a few years now. She is what is best described as a "normie," that is to say that she is just like you and me; that is perhaps what makes her so interesting to fans. She doesn't appear to have any ties to the industry; she isn't some big-wig producer's daughter; in fact, despite their insistence, fans have been unable to find anything on her. She has no public social media accounts, no company profiles online, and no one she went to high school with has come forward with a tik tok horror story (yet!). The couple are shrouded in mystery; no one seems to know how they met, where Y/N is from, or even the highly shrouded question of her age. She certainly appears younger than Pascal by a good few years, and I'm sure that I could find thousands of posts online speculating (or being downright nasty) about how young she is. But out of respect for the happy couple, I leave it a mystery. 

The sharp heels of the sensible shoes that Pascal's assistant is wearing suddenly come back into earshot. She warns me to be ready with my stuff as “they” will be home soon. I don't think twice about her words before hauling ass back to the couch and trying to pull myself together. It's not long before I hear the front door open. Amy (Pascal's assistant that I had only just remembered the name of) runs to the door. I walk slower behind awkwardly, not wanting to intrude (despite the fact that I had spent the last ten minutes snooping around what was essentially a stranger's house). I peek round the corner to be greeted with Pascal's broad back. He is facing away from me, talking to his assistant lowly. His assistant finishes speaking and moves past me, wishing me luck in passing. Pascal doesn't turn around to greet me yet; in fact, he drops down onto one knee to reveal to my utmost shock his wife. Neither of them pay me any mind as he begins untying her shoes for her, ever the gentleman everyone believes he is. 

It's not a second later that the man of the hour turns around to greet me. He smiles widely at me, and I find myself blushing slightly at his unwavering eye contact as he introduces himself. He only introduces himself by his first name, not something I find often when meeting famous people; they are often eager to give me the name that everyone knows and loves them by. It seems a bit of a strange phenomenon in Hollywood that has missed Pascal. His wife then steps forward to introduce herself. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to the millions of jealous fans, but Y/N Pascal is strikingly beautiful; even as I meet her in her own home with no makeup, she glows ethereally with a striking smile that looks like it belongs on the cover of a magazine. In that moment meeting her I quickly see why Pascal holds her in such admiration.

Much to my disappointment, that is the first and last time I see her during the interview. Pedro ushers her away somewhere out of sight with a protective arm around her shoulder. I can hear him mutter to her lowly, promising to be quick. Before kissing her goodbye with an "I love you." It makes my heart ache with a longing. Much like the rest of the internet, I wish I had a man like Pedro Pascal. We chat for a while, while exploring his house, he speaks passionately about his career, which he clearly loves. He has a flame behind his eyes as he speaks about his long-winded love for the cinema. He tells me stories of his famous friends that are featured on his walls. We laugh together, and he very much reminds me of an old friend. Even though I should be interviewing him, I let him talk, rambling on about things that I didn't find important enough to put in this interview, but they certainly put a smile on my face. 

The house is beautiful; it's decorated nicely and feels authentic and homely. It's not massive, not overly obnoxious in the way many celebrity houses are; it's still big, the kind of size that screams loving family. I don't mean to make assumptions, but it almost feels like it's been brought with the idea of a growing family in mind. I complement the house easily. Pedro smiles at me. For the first time in the interview, he refers to his wife. He tells me that he hadn't cared where they lived; “anywhere is home when you are with someone that you love,” but insists that she had loved the house the moment they first saw it. "She has better taste than me,” he tells me with a loving glint in his eye. "She did a good job.” I compliment, he nods and smiles, "always thought I was biased 'cause I’m married to her, but glad to know it's not just me." I feel awfully privileged to get an insight into Pedro's fondness of his wife. It's not often that he speaks about her publicly; she gets mentioned in passing during interviews and is often spotted at events with him, safely away from the cameras, but it's clear to the general public that his marriage is a part of his life that he wishes to keep away from public scrutiny. 

Its towards the end of the interview that I do ask him about his marriage. We walk past a wedding photo that depicts him and his lovely bride squashed together on one seat, smiling widely at the camera. He doesn't say anything when he notices me peering at the photo. I ask him carefully if he thinks being a married man has changed him. He ponders for a second. "Probably,” he answers me carefully. It's not the response I had expected from him, so I quickly encourage him to go on. "I suppose it has in a way,” he continues. “It's not that the amount of love I had changed, but I feel so proud about it now, like that I want to shout from the rooftops and tell everyone of my loved ones how much I love my wife, MY wife, ya know?” I smile and nod at his explanation. I understand what he is saying—such a sweet sentiment that it makes my heart warm. 

We don't speak for much longer after that; he briefly mentions a few upcoming projects, which he seems excited for. I ask him what he has planned next, after his next few big projects are done. He hesitates for a second. “Truthfully,” he says, “I plan on taking a step away for a bit.” I ask if he wants to settle down more. “Yeah, that's part of it; I mean, I’m not getting any younger.” He tells me, “Things are changing soon, and I just want to be settled with my family.” He finishes. I wonder for a moment what he is referring to when he mentions these soon changes; I don't ponder on it too long; much like a crazed fan, I have a few theories floating around in my head. 

We wrap up the interview from there; he is as polite and gracious as he has been the entire time, shaking my hand and thanking me for my time. I try to thank him for the interview and for letting me into his house, but he simply shakes his head at me, insisting it was his pleasure. He disappears soon after that, saying he has something to attend to (and speed walking in the direction that his wife disappeared to). I'm left to see myself out; I don’t snoop too much after I’m left alone. I make my way back to the front of the house, peering around as I go. I peek inside one room that appears to be in the middle of some kind of renovation or do-over. There are multiple pieces of yet-to-be put together furniture on the ground as the walls look to be in the middle of being painted a pastel purple color. 

I’m about to leave when something catches my eye—on the table by the front door, which has various bits and bobs scattered over it, but none of these catch my eye. I step closer to get a clearer view of what appears to be a small black and white photo. I quickly realize what it is: tucked beneath the wallet I had seen Pedro place down before our interview began is an ultrasound. I smile knowingly as my theory is proven correct; the Pascal family is about to be adding another member. 

Congratulations to Pedro as his wife on the upcoming addition to their family.

[thugbiscuits]

september fic rec list 18+ only

please note: none of these fan fictions were written by me. when you read please make sure to like, comment, and reblog. IT MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE.

hello again, freaks >:) im really excited for this month's list. down below you'll find pretty much all the best fics (imo), of every category. it’s mostly smut happy reading!

joel miller fics

make it stick(joel miller x reader, smut) @gutsbys i loved getting to read joel’s inner thoughts.. and how nasty they are omg. i 100% need to have his babies, that’s all.

teacher’s pet (joel miller x virgin!reader, smut) @javiscigarette this fic destoryed my pussy and now i want financial compensation. read at your own risk cause whewww the details are too good. also make sure to read BOTH parts ;)

sugar rush (joel miller x f!reader, fluff) @beardedjoel super fluffy, been reading this to get me ready for spooky season and it hits me right in the feels every time

skincare sunday (joel miller x reader, fluff) @hellishjoel ahh taking care of joel? yes please. this fic is so sweet to me, that’s a real doting and caring man 😤

logan howlett fics

sweet (lumberjack!logan howlett x reader) @fairlyang #NEEDTHAT

make him do what i say (older bf!logan howlett x reader, smut) @dollfacefantasy logan with silver winged hair is superior

vis (logan howlett x afab!mutant reader, smut) @ozarkthedog all i’m saying is that fucking logan before work could save my soul idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

both (logan howlett x reader x storm, smut) @selfcarecap why is nobody talking about this, i would like to talk about this!! this had me crying, screaming and gnawing on the bars of my enclosure.

glory box (old man!logan howlett x reader, smut) @rqnarok oh? oh 😏

time after time (logan howlett x afab!reader, smut) @hyper-fixates if you like the ‘3 times you did and 1 time you didn’t trope’ then this is literally a gift from the fanfic gods !! the slowburn, all feels raaah!

handful of roses (logan howlett x reader, angst fluff) @techwrecker the way logan tries to be a good man is more than enough for me. come home the kids miss you :/

primal love (logan howlett x reader, smut) @strangererotica indeed primal, and indeed lovely. logan is such a needy lover, and this fic was written beautifully.

ex!worst logan howlett x reader, smut) @seventeenpins the banter, the audacity of this man, the AUDACITY. i’m hooked on this version of logan so badly

wade wilson (deadpool) fics

trigger control (wade wilson x girlfriend!reader, smut) @librababe99 HEART EYES

getting nasty w/ wade and logan (poolverine x reader, smut) @darnell-la self explanatory. 11/10

three is a charm (wade x f!curvy reader x logan, smut) i say this a lot but if i could physically eat a fanfic it would be this one. no doubt. i’m eating up every crumb of thissss ! @eloquentlytired

husband!wade wilson (wade wilson x fem!reader, smut) @jojissalsa perfect mix of smutty and sweet imo. wade for husband 2024

bucky barnes fics

big dick is back in town (bucky barnes x f!reader, fluff) @brunchable this was so cute (and canon in my mind). bucky has such a sense of humor in this! OP did such and amazing job on this

loverboy (bucky barnes x reader, fluff) @thevillainswhore i need that man down bad and desperate for me always ! this fic was so adorable to read, i love seeing this side of bucky. aaah such a dream

love language (bucky barnes x reader, fluff, smut) @flowersforbucky this was the sweetest thing ever!

hey, babydoll (bucky barnes x reader, fluff) @buckysmischief smoking with your favorite super soldier, what could be better than that?

hugh jackman fics

controversially young girlfriend @whimsiwitchy it’s always a pleasure when bri updates. and if you haven’t been following this series, i highly reccomend! amazing dialogue, great portrayal of hugh and reader’s romance. get this, it has even better smut. that’s all, go read!

training partners @pedroscurls we were fed with this series! hugh is such a sweetheart with reader, and it truly had me kicking my feet and giggling while reading this.

dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

lovey’s note: i had to add my own thoughts this time around cause phew, this list had me in my feels. feel free to 100% ignore my ramblings, they don’t make sense half of the time 😂

[bg3ficreviews]

Thunder reforged: Rolan x Dammon - #BG3 FanFic Review

Review by Aivu (@aivuthedragon)

Happy timezone, dear readers! Today I'm happy to bring you this incredible series of works by velocitross on AO3. What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.

A note from the BG3FicReviews team: The entire BG3 community was been rocked by the recent controversy surrounding Dammon's VA, including the various fanwork creators who've fallen in love with Dammon, included him in their work, and are part of the LGBTQAI+ community themselves. We want to express our support and love to Dammon fans, Dammon fan work creators, the LGBTQAI+ community generally and all those adversely affected by what's happened. As such, we have decided to feature such works in our reviews this week. Make your love louder than the hate. 💜

As always, mind the tags! Our review is continued below the fold due to the NSFW nature of the content in these works.

This incredible artwork by @arczism was inspired by velocitross's Rolan x Dammon fic Working Steel, which is included in today's review.

Working Steel, the first of velocitross’ three works that include this rare pair, is a masterwork in character portrayal. The author adeptly captures the at-a-glance somewhat incompatible personalities of the two tiefling refugees who fled Elturel together and now reside in Baldur’s Gate. In this work, the relationship between Rolan, the ever-surly wizard and the newly ‘appointed’ master of Ramazith Tower, and Dammon, the gentle yet infernally talented blacksmith of the Forge of the Nine, has grown far beyond mere friendship.

Rolan, frustrated by his attempts to catalogue the mindless chaos remaining after the untimely death of the tower’s former owner, approaches Dammon to ask for his help and visits him at his forge. But what could a blacksmith possibly offer a wizard? Well, a good fuck, for one thing. Rolan is pent-up, impatient, and needs a good lay. And, it turns out, so does Dammon. The smut that ensues is not only blazingly hot but also beautifully captures the tender affection between the two tieflings through not only their words, but small, unique gestures of love and care. (Mind the tails. I mean, tags. No, tails.)

In Up in the Tower, it’s Dammon’s turn to visit the wizard’s domain. But the blacksmith receives a less-than-warm welcome, as the ever-grumpy Rolan becomes highly annoyed at having his work interrupted. But considering Rolan is dressed in little more than his underwear and an open robe, I’m more than willing to forgive him for his surliness. Dammon, however, being the sweet, gentle soul that he is, insists on taking care of Rolan beyond his carnal needs alone. In this work, the relationship between the pair deepens, and the author has wonderfully captured the intimacy of the pair. Lastly, we have Within the Storm. This work takes us back to the Shadow-Cursed Lands as the tiefling refugees attempt to cross its desolate lands on their way to Baldur’s Gate. When the Absolute’s forces ambush the group, Rolan expertly wields his magic to stave them off. But when something happens to Zevlor, the battle takes a turn for the worse. In the chaos, Rolan’s siblings, Cal and Lia, are kidnapped and several of his friends and co-travellers are brutally murdered.

Once at Last Light Inn, Rolan is a fucking mess, devastated by his siblings’ capture. Lost in the depths of his despair and way too much drink, the tiefling wizard finds comfort in the arms of a fellow refugee he’d known since childhood - Dammon. And thus the gentlest embers of affection between the pair begin to spark to life. This lovely one-shot serves as a prelude to the author’s much-anticipated long fic about the pair, their growing affection for one another and what looks to be a truly beautiful love story. If you would like to follow velocitross’ incredible work about the love between a tiefling wizard and blacksmith, please be sure to subscribe to the author on AO3 and follow their work and the pending long fic. We have included a snippet of Working Steel below for your enjoyment. As always, please support the writers of our incredible fandom by leaving kudos and comments on their work. 🫶

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Working Steel

By velocitross on AO3

The ring of his hammer fills Dammon’s ears and his attention as he works. A soft frown of focus curves his lips. It’s a simple enough repair—restoring a blade for the halfling woman standing outside the forge watching him work. Still, there’s a satisfaction to it: the rhythm of his strikes, the heat of the day in Baldur’s Gate warming him beneath his layers of apron and clothing. The ordinary busy noise of the city goes on just outside his focus, a subtle, stabilizing comfort even months after the Netherbrain’s defeat.

When he glances up from his work, a distinct figure catches his eye amongst the passersby. Rolan, with his proud bearing and his regal blue and red robes, coming toward the smithy with a tense, bothered scowl and his tail lashing behind him. A smile touches Dammon’s lips. He knows that look.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as Rolan comes to a stop an awkward few feet from the halfling waiting on her sword.

“Well, don’t take too long,” Rolan snaps, and then reddens further when Dammon raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I’ll just—I’ll wait.”

Dammon lifts the blade off his anvil to study it. He smiles at the halfling as he passes her the sword.

“Give that a try. Come back if you need anything else.”

She moves off to the side to examine the blade, allowing Rolan to step up to the forge. He stands, arms crossed, his face flushed as he fixes Dammon with his bright yellow stare.

“Anything I can help you with, Rolan?” the blacksmith prompts.

Rolan sighs. He places his hands carefully on the edge of the anvil, glances again toward the halfling woman, and leans in toward Dammon.

“I need . . . Steel.”

Dammon breathes a good-natured chuckle.

“Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder toward the building. “I could use a break, anyway.”

[telomeke]

WANDEE GOODDAY EPISODE 2

WDGD Ep.2 was a pleasant enough watch, continuing the lightness of Ep.1 and laying the groundwork for the episodes to come.

It's too early to be sure in what direction they're going to be taking this series, so I'm not looking too closely at things just yet.

And I've never gotten a sense that Director Golf has quite the same penchant for intellectual gamery that other directors (like Khun Aof Noppharnach) have, so WDGD might turn out to be not much more than a straight-up recounting of a romance (and that would be fine too). Nonetheless we are getting glimpses (little sparks really) of details tucked in here and there that suggest the series may yet narrate other messages on a deeper level in future episodes.

Director Golf is known for their political awareness (having spent time as the first trans politician in the Thai Parliament's House of Representatives), and this leaning was abjectly manifest when they directed The Eclipse. I'm not seeing the same heavy-handedness in WDGD though (and I think that's a good thing).

Part of me is wondering if the highly unusual method of determining who gets the orthopedic scholarship (patients and staff will get to vote on this, really? 👀) will re-surface later as a comment on the Thai political situation (always a rollicking ride). No guarantees, but odds are pretty good on this one.

Just a reminder that Khun Golf was ejected from Parliament through the application of a controversial law (banning lawmakers from having shares in any media companies), the same one I think that was also used to help obstruct Pita Limjaroenrat from becoming PM even though his Move Forward Party won the most votes in last year's election (it's also Khun Golf's political party). So any time the democratic electoral process gets referenced in a Thai BL (see this example linked here), the chances are high that the canvas is being primed for a political painting of some sort.

Anyway, just some light-hearted observations for now:

The novel that WDGD the series is based on is (by most accounts) quite trashy and throwaway, but you wouldn't know it watching Episodes 1 and 2 so far. The set-up out the starting gate was so squarely and comically blue-collar v. white collar, brawn v. brains, half-naked sweaty men v. lavender-scrubsuited physicians that I wasn't expecting to get much more than a shallow good time with a lot of tittering at man tits and macho tushies. But they've elevated the source material, imbuing it with a gentle sentimentality and treating the sexual element with humor and good sense (e.g., the condom and lube talk in Ep.1, and the discussion between YY and Dee establishing the ground rules for their Friends with Benefits arrangement). Quite impressively done, especially considering the lightness of its touch.

(above) Wandee Goodday Ep.2 [4/4] 6.28 – YY and Dee discuss the ground rules for their Friends With Benefits arrangement, against the backdrop of a neon sign that loudly proclaims "Less Expectations More Satisfaction" (which is, of course, the most basic ground rule for any FWB liaison)

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About that sentimentality: WDGD's glowing emotional core continues to take the unlikely form of Yoryak, and Great seals the deal with his performance in Wandee Goodday's quieter moments.

(above) Wandee Goodday Ep.2 [3‌/4] 2.23 and the return of the wet towel trope – Yoryak and the neon sign above the bed demonstrate together how love in action speaks louder than words

The tough kickboxer has fallen hard for Dee, and you can really read the tender pining behind his muay thai bravado. (I think he does lovelorn yearning better than outright lust though.)

(above) Wandee Goodday Ep.2 [3‌/4] 3.53 – Yoryak plants a little sniff-kiss as he embraces a barely-conscious Dee in bed; he's fully-clothed, yet far more naked and vulnerable than when they were actually having full-on sex before

There's surely going to be emotional devastation in store for Yak because a Friends With Benefits arrangement soon becomes a wrecking ball to the heart if you're unlucky enough to have caught feelings. And things can only get worse for our dear boy once he and Dee enter into their fake dating phase. Can you imagine coping with all that physical intimacy and also having to display emotional intimacy in public, but then being forced to deny it in private where you want it the most? Only pain looms on the foreseeable horizon for our macho fighter (su su na!), but it should make for some mightily delicious and pleasurably guilty viewing as he journeys through it all (if only for the payoff at the end; Golf please don't fail us! 😬).

‌

There have been cameos and callbacks galore in just these two episodes. The hospital is named Tanwarin, which is also Director Golf's formal first name and this may mean they've cast themselves in the role of a healer here, with this series.

There are also the clips of The Eclipse that our boys watch onscreen (possibly foreshadowing some more political commentary to come).

And screenwriter Yokee Apirak Chaipanha (who also did The Eclipse with Director Golf) guests as Dr. Apichart, the head of the Orthopedic Department.

Of course Ep.2's Café for All is also a callback to The Eclipse (it was prominently featured in there as well, with Director Golf in a cameo as the black-and-white clad proprietor/server).

(top) The Eclipse – Ep.4 [3‌/4] 4.31; (bottom) WDGD Ep.2 [3‌/4] 7.28

And my read then was that The Eclipse, just like the café with Khun Golf at the helm, was meant as a welcoming, non-judgemental space for reflection on LGBTQ+ issues. Possibly the same is being said for WDGD here, though its general unseriousness doesn't seem quite the same or even an appropriate forum for any discussion of weight. Perhaps like in the second appearance of Café for All, what's being served up here in WDGD seems to be less heavy drama and more fluffy confection. Not that there's anything wrong with that! 🍰👍

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Another possible cameo that's caught my eye – the oft-referenced, once heard but never seen Dr. Nop.

(above) Wandee Goodday Ep.2 [2/4] 0.50 – Yoryak looks disappointed when the nurses tell him they've switched his physician from Wandee back to Dr. Nop (while his t-shirt proclaims "Heart Melt")

I can't help thinking that this is a reference to Aof Noppharnach Chaiyahwimhon, who's on hiatus from GMMTV directorial duties for the time being. He's cameo'd as a Nop before (see these write-ups linked here and here) and this may be a reference to his being unseen, but still acknowledged and not unheard during his present time off (I've written about possible reasons for his time away, in this write-up linked here).

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Others have pointed out before I could do it, but yes cleaning the refrigerator does refer to rimming in Thai slang. 😂

(above) Wandee Goodday Ep.2 [4/4] 9.33 – YY turns up at Dee's unit 609 (possibly a reference to 609 Bedtime Story, that was also created by Director Golf and screenwriter Yokee Apirak) appropriately togged out with a gas mask, goggles and bodysuit, all ready to give Wandee's "fridge" a thorough scrub and rub

This thread on the Pantip forum (linked here) explains the term. And the same thread also explains that washing the dishes can mean either sloppy seconds or oral, which lends weight to Li Ming's laang jaan comeback to Jim as payback for infantilizing him during the market scene in Moonlight Chicken:

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OK, so I didn't find anything truly earth-shaking about WDGD Ep.2, but that's typically the case for second and third episodes in any series while they set things up for plot developments to come.

Still, Wandee Goodday is already glowing with a comforting warmth, peppered with light comedic turns even as it foreshadows darker shifts in the future. I hope they build on the solid foundations of Episodes 1 and 2, and serve up the remaining ten episodes ripened to their fullest potential (because there's lots in there they can play with). Here's to hoping! 🥰

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[sosuigeneris]

Socialite Series: Cherry’s Master Post

Things that have helped me, that could help you. Here is a master list of my softmaxxing journey!

Body:

J*hn Bent*n’s workouts: Yes he’s an asshole but his workouts really do work. He used to train models and his workouts are life changing.

2. B-12 Lipo salines: These you can consume in a shot (like an injection) or in a saline (go to a GOOD DOCTOR for this). I prefer the saline, and my doctor recommended the 6 week course for me (one saline every week). It burns subQ fat and that was the main reason why I began using those. There is zero side effect to these, acc to my doc.  edit: don’t really recommend these anymore. I’ll update this list when I finish my Emsculpt.

3. Diet: More protein, more vegetables, more water and lesser intake of carbs. Carbs are important but i used to over-consume them. Cutting down has helped me a lot. I also did a gut bacteria test (you basically sent a piece of your shit to a lab and they analyse it) to understand what foods worked for me and what didnt. 

4. Probiotics for metabolism management 

5. Measuring: I stopped tracking weight and began tracking body fat % instead. I feel that this works better for me. 

6. Wood therapy: I KNOW. You lot will think its bogus but it helped me and im sticking to it, so there. There’s no wood therapy spa near me, so i ordered the wood therapy tools from amazon, plastic wrap, a waist trainer, almond oil. I looked up videos on wood therapy and lymphatic drainage, and i do it for about 5 mins on my tummy and thighs before my work outs, wrap my torso with plastic wrap, throw the waist trainer on top. 

✨

Skin:

Accutane: this helped me tremendously with my acne and my skin is 95% blemish free now. If you are taking this, remember to be disciplined and regular. 

Zero alcohol: I stopped drinking completely and its done my skin and health wonders.

Products: Sunscreen + Vitamin C combo in the AM. Retinol + moisturiser at night. Recommended by my dermat. 

Hair removal: I refuse to shave because its so uncomfortable so i prefer to wax once in 2 months. Personally, when I began exfoliating my body twice a week - I use a scrub by the Body Shop - I noticed that the hair was growing back slower than it used to. I use a loofah for everyday too. I don’t believe in laser because it’s never just 6 sessions; you do have to have “maintenance” sessions as well post the 6.

Face sculpting: Gua sha on alternative nights. I dont know if this works or is placebo, but I felt like it did. 

Body lotion every day. Twice a day sometimes. I swear, it makes you smell good and feel so soft. 

Expensive make up: specially, foundation. I’m sorry, i know this could be controversial. But idk what cow semen Charlotte Tilbury puts in her make up, it seriously makes me glow. I’m yet to find a good drug store alternative. A while back, I stopped wearing concealer, and I began using a lighter shade of CT’s foundation as concealer over my normal shade. I feel that because the products are chemically the same, they blend better and don’t react and “peel.” Highly recommend that too. For the rest of my face like powder, blush, eyeliner, I do use normal drug store make up.  

✨

Oral hygiene:

I used to have braces. After taking them off, I noticed a difference in my jaw.

Brush, floss, Listrine, tongue cleaner

Mild whitening. I think Hollywood level teeth whitening looks crazy and I want to look as “naturally” beautiful as possible.

✨

Hair care:

For hair growth: as recommended by my doc: minoxidil hair foam 5% w/w Tugain Foam.

High frequency wand before wash days on my scalp. 

Moroccan hair oil. I use a tiny amount everyday on my ends after I finish my make up for the day and I swear it makes my hair shine like crazy.

I also got hair Botox done because i used to have curly but absolutely unmanageable hair. I tried to make it work for years but i gave up and caved in to having permanent straight hair and I love it. 

I only shampoo twice a day so on days when i workout but don’t shampoo, i use hair perfume. I spray some of it on my brush and run it through my hair. I swear it works. 

✨

Overall:

The colour palette theory seriously works. I didn’t realise that wearing the right colours can impact you so much.

Confidence is absolutely key. I seriously recommend going to a group class of some sort if you have the time and just mingling with random people. Social situations are important to gauge your “standing.”

Random but if you have a big nose: grow out your eyebrows / fill them in slightly thicker. I noticed that when I had thin eyebrows, my nose would stand out more but when I made them thicker, it balanced my face out better. 

Steam iron your clothes before you wear them. You will look 100% put together. 

*IF* you’re aesthetically challenged when it comes to picking clothes, use my rule of thumb: never wear any more than 3 colours at once  (remember: IF you can’t put outfits together). 

[gartenofbanny]

WARNING: DIRTY-ISH IMAGES IN THIS BLOG

Guys, I have a confession to make. I believe Sallie May is one of the most overrated characters in Helluva Boss.

I don’t believe she’s overrated simply because she’s trans. It’s just for a different reason that I will explain shortly, but first who is this character I'm talking about?

Who is Sallie May?

Sallie May is Millie’s sister who debuted in Hell of a Boss Episode Five, the Harvest Moon Festival. After some time after the release of the episode she was pretty popular among the Hell of a Boss fandom

So what're my thoughts about her overall? Well, Sallie May is a character, that's pretty much it. I don't have any opinions on her as a character because she isn’t fleshed out. She is Millie's sister who is transgender, that's really what Sallie May is. She looks pretty, but Sallie May doesn't have any standalone character similar to Octavia and Millie.

So that's how I feel about Sallie May, she's overall just a side character. It's cool that they added her to the show, but that's all.

Now that, that's out of the way I'm going to talk about..how Vivziepop and the other creators used her and why I don’t like it. This is going to be pretty controversial for me to discuss so don’t pull out your pitchforks yet.

How Vivziepop and the other creators used her

What I don't like upon Harvest Moon Festival’s release is that a lot of people, including me were not aware that Sallie May was transgender and there was very little indication of that. The only thing that points out that Sallie May is trans is her horns.

As people know, Male imps and Female imps have different patterns for their horns. However, that information is not shared within Helluva Boss.

It requires outside research like in the wikis, Livestreams, or people telling you in order to make sense.

Upon first watching Harvest Moon Festival, I had no idea that Sallie May was transgender until a Reddit post basically told me that she was.

If you're going to have a character with a certain gender identity, establish it within the series. It could've been something simple like a pin of the transgender flag or a button that has the colors of the transgender flag.

The writers of Amphibia did it with Sasha where Sasha had a bisexual heart sticker on her rearview mirror. It doesn't have to be something big, but it can be small and easily noticeable.

I don’t get how people consider Sallie May to be a trans icon when lots of people didn’t even know she was trans in the first place.

Why I believe she's overrated and why she's loved within the Fandom

Now the real question is why do I believe she’s overhyped? Well, simply put it she does not have much screen time overall. Sallie May has around 13 to at most 20 seconds of screentime and Harvest Moon Festival is 17 minutes and 30 seconds long excluding the credits.

Sallie May doesn't make an appearance later on in the episode despite the fact that Millie and Sallie's mom, Lin said that Sallie May would compete in the Pain Games. Not once is Sallie May shown in the Pain Games.

Sallie May also doesn't appear later on in the episode. Viv and Brandon just include her in those couple of seconds and decided "That's all she gets".

But why is Sallie May overrated as a character? Well, it's simple, merchandise.

Despite being a side character, Sallie May is present in a lot of merch. In the Valentine’s and Summer merch sales for Hell of a Boss, Sallie May is highly sexualized.

Sallie May hasn't gone through the transition surgery, which is fine, but the merch puts A LOT of emphasis on that.

What I mean is that…her bulge is showing.

Sallie May's swimsuit and Valentine’s merchandise are clear examples of this, they just let Sallie May’s thing bulge out with no care in the world. Why is it that Sallie May’s bulge is exposing itself in nearly all of her raunchy merch, but none of the characters who identify as males (except for Chaz) are not?

Conclusion

In conclusion, I believe Sallie May is really overhyped because she’s sexualized as hell. I get that people like her because she’s trans and that we have a trans character in Helluva Boss, but then again there are also two other characters in this show that are trans.

And one character in Harvest Moon Festival that is also trans

At least that’s what the horns and hair color imply, but I don’t see the fandom falling head over hills for these two characters.

The trans rep in Helluva Boss sucks, Sallie May has more screen time as merchandise than she does as an actual character. Let that sink in.

I am not transphobic, just stating the truth. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day!

(This is basically the transcript version of a video I made not too long ago)

[lillified]

On Twt you had mentioned dead colonies, could you talk a bit about it? I'm curious to learn more 👀

I absolutely can!

Dead Colonies

At the tail end of the Quintesson reign and well into the Zeta era, the Cybertronian project began to expand into space, looking to establish itself as a galactic empire (similar to the Quintessons they were following). The new regime's optimism made promising projections about the affair, anticipating the colonies they established would become vital trade hubs, resource hotspots, societies, and even tourist destinations (though some of Cybertron's ultra-wealthy indulged, space travel was far too expensive for this to ever become viable). Although the industry boom following the socio-economic institution of the Caste system gave this ambitious promise legitimacy, it was, in hindsight, completely doomed from the start.

In their heyday, however, it was easy to ignore the warning signs. These colonies stretched from nearby satellites to planets in neighboring solar systems, and they were established to varying degrees of complexity. Some stations were only ever meant to be extraction ports for valuable natural resources. The most famous of these colonies, however, were the settled territories, where groups of Cybertronians were planted and expected to live indefinitely.

Once established, these territories developed independently of Cybertron's culture and society, similar to how the flying polity of Vos maintained its own social identity. In many ways, they were like miniature civilizations of their own, only sponsored and supplied by the Cybertronian government. One example of where their societies differed from the start was in the practice of mooring Titans.

Titans are a subclass of life on Cybertron. They are theorized to be the missing link between Cybertronians and the Primus Superorganism, though that theory is highly controversial. Many Titans are dormant now, existing in a state of extended stasis, but many Polities on Cybertron were established around or even on these Titans, although the full extent of their symbiotic link has been lost to time. Unlike Cybertronians, Titans exist throughout the observed galaxy, likely supplanted by space debris. Though it served no immediate practical purpose, several of these colonies sought out these space Titans to cohabitate with. The most infamous colony to adhere to this practice was Caminus.

Caminus was an extremely ambitious project. It was the farthest of the Cybertronian colonies, whose "bridge" (a series of space stations facilitating navigation to the planet, without which many outgoing ships were lost) was considered a revolutionary innovation in space travel. For a long time it was a shining example of what interstellar expansion should be. A lush natural ecosystem native to the planet, constant technological innovation, a rich independent culture, and a general appearance of abundance made it exotic and attractive to the citizens back on Cybertron.

The colonies existed in excess for a while. Soon, though, the explosion of prosperity and industry from Zeta's widespread mechanization started to trail off, and the Energon crisis was almost inevitable on the horizon. The long-term goal that underscored the effort of space expansion was to eventually find another source of Energon, but that goal was never achieved; by consequence, the endeavor of supporting these colonies became expensive and unwieldly. There was no real end benefit besides maintaining an illusion of abundance.

One by one, the central Cybertronian government slowed down, and eventually cut off, support to these Colonies, markedly including the shipment of Energon. Some of these stations were evacuated with the hopes of reintegrating their residents on Cybertron, but many others, especially the manned trade outposts and extraction points, were simply abandoned. Rescuing everyone was just too expensive.

Of the residential colonies, only one escaped evacuation, though the story is still shrouded in mystery. Before the total cutoff, Energon shipments became increasingly more expensive, dwindling for decades. Caminus felt this bleeding and diplomatic tensions between itself and Cybertron became strained. During one shipment, with no forewarning, an outgoing cargo ship discovered that the final point of the Caminus bridge had completely disappeared, defying reason. All other communications with the colony were also completely shut off. With no way to reach them, and no way to guarantee a safe travel, the ship returned to Cybertron, and the colony essentially disappeared. The story of Caminus would become a longstanding source of mystery and intrigue back on Cybertron, though any tragedy is more a result of bureaucratic negligence than horror.

The rest of the colonies died out much less spectacularly. Now, throughout the galaxy, only old abandoned outposts remain, the skeletons of lives lived there. Like the Quintessons before them, Cybertronian expansion was destined to fail. In the end it only marked another nail in the coffin for the energy crisis, and the inevitability of domestic tensions coming to a fiery head.

[eviltothecore13]

I wonder if the writers ever regret putting the rebecca easter egg in

I am not sure the writers have much interaction with the Western side of the fandom, and I don't know what the Japanese-language fandom reaction has been to it. So I don't know for sure that they're even aware there has been a fandom reaction to the easter egg that wasn't viewing it as funny or just going "hey a hot girl" as the average cishet male gamer in the late 90s unfortunately would have.

Honestly people seem to have talked more about the easter egg in the past year than in my entire time in the fandom before that? Like, yes there were always a few people who headcanoned something creepy going on with Wesker and Rebecca because of the easter egg, and there were always a few people who shipped them, too, and also that one old fic that explained it with "she's his secret daughter and he just wanted to keep a picture of his daughter where she was happy and playing basketball like she loved doing, rather than only having an official ID photo of her", but it used to be much easier to talk about Wesker without people mentioning it? Most people in the fandom never really seemed to give it that much thought beyond "yeah, yeah, 90s videogame sexism, trying to 'reward' you with a picture of a girl, kinda cringe", and most discussions of Wesker's characterisation never really seemed to involve it.

For that matter, before RE6, the primary assumption among the fanfic/fanart side of the fandom was that Wesker was 100% gay (generally using his distaste for Excella's attentions as proof). The "gamer guy on Reddit and/or videogame forums" side of the fandom, meanwhile, didn't so much see him as straight, as take a position somewhere along the lines of "Wesker is such a badass killing machine that having any kind of relationship or even being attracted to anyone is beneath him, all he thinks about is mad science and world domination". (Large numbers of people on both sides of the fandom--not just the gay headcanoners and Chrisker shippers as you might think--derided RE6 as OOC because they simply could not picture Wesker ever having had sex with a woman! It's just that one half thought he had sex with men, while the other half thought shipping was lame and for girls and can we get back to the zombies and explosions now.)

"Wesker is a sexual predator who preys on women" wasn't a nonexistent position back then, but it really wasn't the majority, and most people depicting him as such were...well, straight women writing 50-Shades-esque fantasies, rather than people who seriously thought he was a creep and hated him for it. And those would often involve Claire or an OC rather than Rebecca.

It's only the past couple of years that some people have been loud about using the easter egg as 'proof' that Wesker was preying on Rebecca and as a reason to hate Wesker, and only the past few months that I've started getting LOADS AND LOADS OF ASKS about it.

I'm rather surprised by this turn of events and wonder what caused it, to be honest, it seems like a very sudden switch. Is it just the RE2 remake reminding people of it? Wesker seems a more controversial character in general these days though than he used to be. He used to be unquestionably one of the most popular characters with a very high demand for more content of him, the decision to put him in MVC3 being very popular, him regularly placing highly in "best character" polls, lots of people wanting his return from the dead, etc... sure he was evil and there were people who "disliked" him in the sense of "he's an awful person who I'd hate in real life" or maybe "he hurt my favourite characters", "killing him in-game is satisfying because I'm beating the bad guy" kinds of dislike, but not "I wish he wasn't in the series" "I want to see less of him" "I hate anyone who likes him" kinds of dislike, you know? Mostly he was viewed as a badass scheming ruthless supervillain with cool powers, and frequently also as hot. Obviously enthusiasm for "MORE WESKER!!!" will die down after it's been so long since his death (though DBD revived it a bit) but I don't know where the increased amount of outright hate for the character and his fans has come from over the past few years.

Is liking villains just less popular? It used to be a fairly common belief that, no matter how evil they might be (in fact, the more evil the better sometimes), the villains were always the coolest characters in anything. Especially in horror, considering the number of horror franchises that are ultimately villain-based (the Cthulhu Mythos, most slasher things, a lot of kaiju things though how much those count as horror varies, basically all of Universal Horror though Dracula isn't the coolest character in the book). But I know some other villains who used to be seen as a main draw of the series now have a lot of people wanting them killed off for good.

In some of those cases, though, I think decreased quality of the writing is in large part to blame (the Joker used to be seen as an entertaining source of dark comedy and was one of the most popular characters in BTAS and the Arkham games, but now liking him--far from being an uncontroversial opinion--is associated with a Very Specific Unpleasant Type Of Guy...but that's probably because a lot of recent writing of him just hasn't been that interesting or funny). The increase in people who really vocally hated Wesker happened BEFORE RE4make, at a time when he'd basically not been in anything for years, so can't really be blamed on "he recently appeared in something badly written"--so I'm not sure where it's come from.

[yuri-is-online]

You Simple Vile Monstrosity: Rook and the Flowers of Evil

My other two dumb history posts have at least a semblance of fun fact to them, but this is mostly going to be literary analysis and some theory. There's some interesting stuff here sure, but I don't really think it adds much to the overall landscape of twst theories. But it does make Rook make more sense to me so I am making this post anyway.

So without further ado, if you are like me and enjoy reading twst theories, you might know that the beginning lines of Twisted Wonderland are something we have been debating the meaning of since the game came out really. While I think we have been closing in on their true meaning as Chapter 7 progresses along, the phrase "Flowers of Evil" can actually refer to something specific: a french poetry collection of the same name (Les Fleurs du mal in french) by a poet name Charles Baudelaire originally published in 1857. The collection was extremely controversial, but today it is highly lauded and has inspired several other literary works, including a manga series by Shūzō Oshimi of the same name. I found out about the poetry collection while working on this request and finally finished reading it... and another essay by Baudelaire for reasons we can talk about later on in the post. For now let's talk poetry.

Beauté! 100 Points!

I don't speak french, so I read an English translation done by Aaron Poochigian that does contain the original french text in the back half of the book. The Flowers of Evil is split into seven-ish parts: The Flowers of Evil (just containing "To the Reader"), Spleen and the Ideal, Parisian Scenes, Wine, Flowers of Evil (again but with 12 poems this time), Revolt, and then Death. The sections are more or less organized by the subject of the poems, Spleen and the Ideal is the largest with Baudelaire musing over what the ideal concept of beauty is while Wine deals with getting drunk (on wine mostly if you can believe it.) One of the things that jumps out very quickly about Baudelaire's work is that his concept of beauty is almost synonymous with his concept of evil. He writes a lot about maggots eating corpses, about decay, he has a few poems that talk about vampires appearing to be the highest form of beauty but really being husks of rotted flesh; it's all very much about this acceptance that evil is a part of life and human nature, so therefore there must be beauty in it. The concept of "ideal beauty" must by it's nature be divorced from the concept of "morality." When Rook talks about the potential for Leona or Malleus to kill him and how beautiful that would be, I think he means the act of destruction itself would be beautiful. The circumstances surrounding it and the consequences of it are irrelevant to the concept; this is also why while he initially says he cannot find the crimson lotuses in GloMas beautiful Deuce accuses him of doing just that after everything is said and done. He cannot find beauty in Rollo's actions, but the visual and the fight are beautiful because of the effort he and the other students put in to stop them. And perhaps most importantly, it's why he is willing to drink Vil's poison and look upon what is supposedly ultimate ugliness and say "In this moment you are the fairest of them all." Because how could an act born out of such raw and genuine emotion be anything but?

Le Chasseur D'Armour, The Hunter of Love

Baudelaire wasn't just a poet, he fancied himself a critic and wrote multiple essays, the one I read for this post is The Painter of Modern Life. Which is actually a collection of several but they are all related, and I was directed to them by this wordpress post. In it, Baudelaire muses over how things can be both beautiful and ugly, and why:

"Beauty is made up of an eternal, invariable element, whose quantity it is excessively difficult to determine, and of a relative, circumstantial element... which severally or all at once, the age, its fashions, its morals, its emotions."

He was talking about fashion plates that depicted outdated costumes, but his point was more or less that if you strictly look at the design of the costume they look ridiculous: ugly. But when you take into account their historical value (these particular plates were all from the around the time of the French revolution) they become exceedingly important: beautiful. He also mentions in this same essay the importance of not just taking into account the opinions of so called "masters" and sneers at people who think they understand what is beautiful just because they have seen a painting done by a professional:

"... to declare that Raphael, or Racine, does not contain the whole secret, and that minor poets too have something good, solid and delightful to offer... that we might love general beauty, as it is expressed by classical poets and artists, we are no less wrong to neglect particular beauty, the beauty of circumstance and the sketch of manners."

In chapter 5, while helping Vil judge the auditions for VDC, Rook gives every audition 100 points because, well, in his mind they are all an example of perfect beauty specifically because they are the work of amateurs, and that is no less valuable to him or less worthy of praise that the work of the master. Now granted he clearly does value professional quality (he did have reasons for voting for Neige other than being a massive simp. Valid ones even if loosing does sting) but that's only in the context of strict rules and guidelines. When Rook is asked for his opinion, while he certainly does believe there is an absolute, academic definition beauty, he doesn't place any value on where that beauty comes from. Baudelaire muses over how human life "accidentally" puts mysterious beauty into the world, and the true appreciator of beauty must make himself not strictly a poet but:

"...an observer of life, and only later set himself the task of acquiring the means of expressing it... For most of us... the fantastic reality of life has become singularly diluted. [But he] never ceases to drink it in; his eyes and memories are full of it."

I strongly dislike suggesting in these posts that xyz is "the definitive reason" for why a character acts the way that he does, but I do think it is very interesting how well this describes Rook's ethos. He thinks of himself as a hunter, but in order to do that he needs to observe. Sure he takes it to exceptionally extreme lengths, but it makes him one of the most lively members of the NRC cast. Baudelaire is right, there are a million things about life we miss on a day to day basis wherein true beauty lies, but Rook sees all of it. His eyes, memories, camera, and secret photo albums are fit to burst with it.

My Noble and Beautiful Flower of Evil

I mentioned the opening text at the beginning of this post, and I stand by my interpretation that the phrase "flower of evil" it uses likely is not a specific reference to any of the poems themselves... beyond the obvious note that it is a collection of poems about finding beauty in, well, evil and most of the characters are based off of villains.

But there was something that started gnawing at me when I read the introduction to my translation, which was written by a poet named Dana Gioia. It was a very well written summary of Baudelaire's life and the significance of his work, but it mentioned a connection that I have seen brought up in twst theorizing before: Edgar Allen Poe.

You see, Baudelaire was obsessed with Poe. To the point that (according to the introduction) "He considered Poe a sacred martyr for art and referred to him as 'Saint Edgar.' In his morning devotions, Baudelaire prayed first to God and then to Poe."

I have nothing to say on that (because really what could you) but the point that Gioia wanted to make in that introduction was that Poe had a massive influence on Baudelaire's writing style. He wrote multiple essays on his work and translated them into French because he felt like Poe deserved the recognition, so while Gioia used this to argue that Poe's influence on Baudelaire shouldn't be underestimated...

I can't find the post, but someone was talking about how Malleus's mother's name Meleanor is very similar to "Lenore" and I recall people sort of brushing that connection off. I don't that name is a coincidence. I think the poem "Lenore" might very well have been something thought about when constructing her character, and that the themes in Poe's work might be very relevant to the overall story of Twisted Wonderland.

Something about ravens and telltale hearts just feels like they fit; maybe we have got it all wrong and Yuu's visions aren't coming from the mirror in Ramshackle, but the floorboards.

Semi- Unrelated Fun Facts:

If you read the name Baudelaire and thought to yourself it sounded familiar, you might have be thinking of the Baudelaire children from A Series of Unfortunate Events. This isn't exactly a coincidence as the author of the series admits to his writing being heavily influenced by Charles Baudelaire to the point he actually wrote the afterword to the translation I own.

Dana Gioia is the former Poet Laureate of the state of California, something that deeply confused me. Apparently the Governor of California appoints someone to a 2 year term and they travel around the state to promote poetry and literacy which is apparently something that 46/50 U.S. states and D.C. does to????

My glorious motherland of Pennsylvania is not one of these states, apparently we only ever appointed one, then eliminated the position entirely after he retired, and then started just. Handing out ones to people in individual cities and counties. Which is so par for the course here I don't know why I am surprised.

One of the first things any college level literature course will try to drill into you is that you don't examine the life of an author when examining their work. It might sound silly, but I think Baudelaire is a great example of why that's important. The man was addicted to drugs and sex, refused to get a "real job", lived off his inheritance from his wealthy father and eventually whatever money he could convince his mother to send him his entire adult life, and had her use her political connections to bail him out of legal trouble multiple times.

If I thought too hard about that it would make his lines in "Skeleton Laborers" (Nothingness is treacherous.//Even Death is a deceiver.//Alas, forever and ever,//work may be awaiting us) fall terribly flat, which I think does them a disservice. The man was very talented and I am glad he wrote them because I felt very seen when I read them.

Baudelaire opened his publication with a note to the reader, but he made it a full poem entitled "To the Reader." I liked the ending stanza so much I used a version of it to title my blog, and eventually my current masterlist: (Boredom! Moist-eyed, he dreams, while pulling on//a hookah pipe, of guillotine-cleft necks.//You, reader, know this tender freak of freaks-//hypocrite reader-mirror-man-mytwin!)

Likewise the title of this post is also taken from part of a poem, "Hymn to Beauty" (Beauty, you simple, vile monstrosity,//I cannot care about your origin,//provided that your gaze, smile, feet show me//a sweet infinity I have never known.) I think that fits Rook's ideals rather well, don't you?

[not-poignant]

Omg please drop some of your fave 00s Midwestern emo

Absolutely!

So first thing I should say is that I love a lot of emo, not just 00s Midwest. And most of the musicians I loved then, I still follow to some capacity now (it's also how I found musicians like Manchester Orchestra long before they went viral.

For specifically Midwest era, it'd have to be:

The Get Up Kids (I would die for Matt Pryor, his prolificness and songwriting is incredible. He's also The New Amsterdams, and writes as Matt Pryor, he also did children's albums as The Terrible Twos and now has a punk band I always forget the name of). For people new to TGUK, would highly recommend Red Letter Day, and I'll Catch You

There's also Jets To Brazil, mewithoutYou, Sunny Day Real Estate, Spanish Love Songs (folks who listen to my playlists might recognise the song Brave Faces Everyone, which I'm also using as an upcoming chapter title). I've seen The Shins listed as Midwest emo and I enjoy them but I don't think they fit the genre, lol. There's also Mineral, Rainer Maria, Modest Mouse etc.

In terms of more broadly, the emo artists I've love/d are like Brand New (controversial these days, I know), Taking Back Sunday, Acceptance, The Academy Is..., Panic! at the Disco (they've strayed from their roots but I still like em), Say Anything, Matchbook Romance, Dashboard Confessional, The Early November, All Time Low (do an amazing cover of Umbrella), Fall Out Boy, The Format (not really emo but they were in this crowd), Jimmy Eat World, JamisonParker, Death Cab for Cutie, Alexisonfire! (Screamo), Anberlin, Hellogoodbye, and probably a bunch of others I'm missing!

I've been to see Dashboard Confessional and Brand New live (the latter was the first band I ever flew to another state to see, because they weren't going to come to Perth), and I've intended to see Taking Back Sunday twice but both times was too sick to go.

I live with a music journalist, and we're both very interested in all kinds of music, usually with different projects going on at the same time. Currently he's trying to get through all the top albums by year since albums existed (he's now in the early 90s), curating a playlist of '100 top songs per year' series of playlists. I'm doing my Colourways project this year, which is creating playlists of 30 unique songs each that match some of the top selected colours of the year. (I'm currently listening to Kenepuru Sound in that collection).

Last year were both actively tried to listen outside of our music spaces, so Glen targeted a lot of foreign countries, and I specifically lasered in on Indonesia, because that suited some worldbuilding I was doing. Consequently made a giant Indonesian-songs playlist, and fell in love with Padi. Everyone should. (Go listen to Semua Tak Sama, especially if you love Radiohead). I also focused on listening to a lot of Indigenous Australian music, which led me to Alf the Great, who made the song Running that I added to a few playlists. He's Kalkadungu/Bidjara.

The year before that I was followed on playlist curation, etc. We're both a bit neurodivergent about our music habits, except that Glen can't listen to the same song over and over again, and I can to his dismay, so I have to be careful how I do it (and normally not when he's home).

[boxboxblog]

F1 Politics: The Driver Market

Hello, Thought I would dive into more info about the driver market/ silly season. It's a very fascinating public yet private aspect of F1, and the decisions made during this time can be highly controversial. Enjoy! Also, some info about why certain drivers are chosen over others can be found in my post about Junior Academies or my post about The Path to F1.

What is The Driver Market?

So when I talk about the driver market what I am referring to is the continuous process of recruitment, hiring, and endless contracts that surround F1 racing. Many people think that silly season (time of the year when most contracts are finalized/negotiated) is the only time when it is a big deal, but the driver market rotates and shifts constantly. Throughout the entire season contracts are rebuilt, new drivers are added to the interest list, reserve drivers shift around, and much more. There are phases of the driver market however,

Pre-Season: the most stable time of the year, usually contracts are fully formed and settles on by then. They often are not looking at any changes this close to the beginning of the season, but curve balls have been thrown in there before. For example, Haas in 2022 had to quickly look for a new driver after the Russian Invasion of Ukraine meant they had to axe their major Russian sponsor and driver.

Mid-Season: This can be from right after the first couple races to the summer break. It is the time when driver performances are reviewed and the rumor mill starts swirling. Often what teams gather in this time, if negative, could turn into a mid-season driver change. We saw an example of this with Nyck de Vries in 2023, who already had discussions about being swapped out whispered in Monaco.

Silly Season: This very comically named part of the season is usually during the Summer break, when a lot of announcements are made in regards to contracts. This is also often when a new driver comes in for a mid-season swap, when teams let the public know the next year's line up, and any extensions. For example Williams, Alpine, and Aston Martin all announced their finalized lineups for the 2025 season during this time.

Latter Half: This part of the season is usually when lower series drivers test for F1 teams. We see a lot of F2 or F3 drivers doing FP sessions, which can indicate a teams interest in them for the future. Well not really a part of contracting, it leads to a lot of speculation about future drivers. It can also sometimes have major decisions and announcements. For example, Sauber just confirmed Gabriel Bortoleto for the 2025 season, a very late announcement.

Post Season: This is when moves and lineups are officially officially finalized and announced. There can often be major surprises during this time, like last minute contract terminations or very unexpected signings. For example, most people now expect VCARB to make their decisions for next years lineup right after the season ends pending Liam Lawson's performance.

Typical Contracts

So, most F1 contracts vary wildly depending on the driver or the team. For example the length of the contracts differs a lot (although teams lean toward 1 year for rookies, 2 years for newish drivers, and multi year for established and skilled drivers). While things like that may differ, they often all at least provide clarification and insurance on the same topics.

Base Salary: Teams must guarantee drivers a certain amount. This varies a lot, especially depending on results and time in F1. For example, Max Verstappen reportedly made an annual base salary of $45M in 2023, while a rookie like Oscar Piastri reportedly made $2M.

Performance Bonuses: Most teams have additional income based on number of points, podiums, wins, or if they get the championship or not.

Expectations: This can be anything from media requirements, performance requirements, hours of work, etc. There can be expectations from both sides. Sometimes teams will have a clause that they can release a driver with no pushback if they have not achieved a certain level in the standings. Sometimes a driver can have a clause that says if the team does not deliver a decent car, then they can do the same. Usually it is the championship winners like Hamilton or Verstappen that can do that, though.

Status: Some teams or drivers have very specific requirements about the assigned roles. Teams may require a designated 1st and 2nd driver, and have it in contract that someone must be the 2nd driver. Other times a driver will have it in the contract that they can't be the 2nd driver, or that team orders are not allowed.

Technical Input: Drivers can negotiate how involved they are allowed/ need to be in car development

Termination Clauses: Much like the expectations section, this is all about what can cause a contract to be legally void. You see, in F1 you need to stick to the contract and can receive massive financial demerits if you do not. These clauses allow both driver and team to protect themselves from unmet expectations or poor treatment.

Exclusivity: This is set to prevent drivers from participating in other series without permission. There have been cases in the past where drivers have signed two contracts in two different series, and there was legal disputes over which one to follow when the clashed. Teams do not like this kind of conflict, so they almost always make drivers sign an exclusivity aspect. This is true for sponsorships as well.

Obviously that is not everything, but these are the major aspects to a typical F1 contract.

Historical Contracts

Michael Schumacher 1996 : This Ferrari contract reportedly made Schumacher the highest-paid driver of all time during this period, and many saw it as a massive shift in how contracts worked for drivers. It included extensive control over car development and team strategy.

Kimi Raikkonen 2012: This Lotus contract was incredibly lucrative for Raikkonen and almost bankrupted Lotus. He agreed too a low base salary and a huge bonus for points scored. Apparently Lotus did not expect Raikkonen to get that many points, but he scored 208 points in 2012 and 183 in 2013, earning himself many millions of dollars.

Charles Leclerc 2020: This Ferrari contract was major because of the length and youth of the driver. At the end of 2019, Leclerc's first year with Ferrari, they signed him to a five-year deal, the longest is Ferrari's history.

Max Verstappen 2023: The highest base salary in F1 history, Verstappen earned a base of $45M in 2023, not including his performance bonuses ($25M). Astounding, especially compared to what other drivers make.

Alright so that is a little overview of the driver market and contracts. i hope this was informative.

Cheers,

-B

[bitchy-w1tchy]

Anfuu analysis

Anime onlys: I would highly recommend not reading any further because I will be discussing a lot of shit that happens way past episode 10 in the anime.

This is long, sorry

Lemme say first off that I really have not seen a relationship like Andy and Fuuko's before (granted my only other shonen series I have been into were Fairy Tail and AOT). From what I have seen in other shonen, which I normally can't get into because they're pretty cookie cutter imo, romance doesn't happen right off the bat.

Undead Unluck would not be a thing if Fuuko and Andy didn't have a relationship. I'm a damn sucker for romance and the second I saw the dynamic between them in the first episode, I knew I was in for a helluva ride.

So in the beginning, it is obvious that Andy is using her. He has admitted to it multiple times, there's no hiding it. My guy wanted to die and saw someone who could potentially give him a proper death and he wasn't going to let that opportunity slip through his fingers.

Up until the end of Spoil, Andy saving Fuuko, protecting her, teasing her, that was all for his personal gain. He didn't take into account that she had been touch deprived for ten years, living vicariously through her shojo manga. Andy called her a pushover many times but I don't think she was. She loved the fact that she could touch someone without them dying. In a short amount of time, she got to live out a ton of different scenarios that only her shojo mango could provide her and I think she was in love with the idea that she could finally start living a little.

Going back to the Spoil arc, after Fuuko saves Andy from Victhor, that's when the dynamic starts to change a little bit. Fuuko saved Andy. She got him back. And Andy FOR SURE saw that. She wasn't some brat to him anymore. Does he love her at this point? No. But he definitely respects her and wants to continue to protect her. He doesn't JUST see her as a personal asset anymore.

And we are that in the Unrepair arc, when Fuuko gets hit by Rip's scalpel, Andy loses it and has to collect himself before returning to the fight, not only that is that Fuuko had to reassure him that she was fine.

Fuuko is not a damsel in distress and Andy sees that, allowing her to fight alongside him (even if she is just piggybacking). Andy recognizes that he can be stronger with her Unluck and it makes me so damn happy that she isn't cast on the sidelines during fights (thank you tozuka)

ANYWAYS

Autumn arc is where we start cooking, fr. Fuuko admits she loves Andy. Is she in love with him? No. But she is starting to fall. She spent 10 years with him in that damned book. And Andy definitely loved her too. They helped each other grow. And when they came out of that book they were stronger than ever.

Before Fuuko goes with Under, it was blatantly obvious that Andy did not want her to go. At this point, he does not like being away from her at all. But there is a huge amount of trust there so he lets her go.

But man's was STRESSIN the whole time she was gone, not sleeping or nothing until her heard from her. Not only that is Fuuko admits that she is in love with Andy, realizing it now that she has been away from him for only a couple days. Not only that is Unchaste doesn't work on her because she truly loves someone unconditionally.

Now, before I go into the rest of Spring and into Ragnarok, I'm gonna say that Andy does not know how to deal with his feelings. His inner dialogue and the way he speaks to Fuuko are not matching up at all. Before he admits he loves her, (God damn it I wish she heard him), he's looking back on their time together, how they both grew, how he treated her at first, etc.

At the end of Spring, he admits to himself that he can't die because he can't accept Fuuko's feelings properly. And why can't he? Because he's AFRAID.

But when he speaks to Fuuko he plays it off as, "now it's my turn to fall in love with you", kinda jokes around about it.

This is where I get controversial. By the time Spring ends, does Andy love Fuuko? Without a doubt, yes. Is he IN love with her? No.

Like I said, he is scared to accept her feelings. I do believe that if he could get past the barrier of his own feelings and accept her love then I truly believe he would fall head over heels with her in an instant. His feelings are what's holding him back.

So why is he so afraid? Because I think that if he admits he is in love with Fuuko and accepts Fuuko's feelings, then he won't want to die like he has wanted for 2 centuries. And if he DOES die, then he leaves behind a heartbroken Fuuko.

I mean, come on, Fuuko gets shanked and Andy absolutely loses his shit. That's love.

I PISSED that Andy and Fuuko never got their proper talk before the Loop happened. But I'm hoping that when Andy decides to get his ass off the fucking sun (kidding), then we have a real talk between them because I'll tell you I am so sick of licking these anfuu crumbs off the fucking floor. (Bring my boy home)

(now I do think, at some point during the Ragnarok arc, he doesn't want to die anymore. His astral projection is that of an old man. He just wants to grow old.)