#I wonder if I should've put that point into Empathy.

[lovedtogekiss]

...I wonder if we're supposed to talk to Cunoesse first.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do platonic sister reader with the Curtis brothers. Can you make the reader similar to Young Sheldon? Like a bit younger than Ponyboy, probably has asperger's syndrome, she believes she's superior to everyone because of how smart she is, goes to college nearby already because of a full ride and has a general lack of humility, empathy, and toleration but still loves her family. Thank you and I love your work (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Summary: In which you are the Curtis brothers’ sister and are very similar to Young Sheldon.

Warnings: mentions of diagnosis (alluded to be aspergers)

Author's Note: dont know if i wrote this right, im so sorry!! (Bazinga) ((I don't know how to tag for this))

The Curtis Brothers always sheltered you, their younger sister, from the outside and anyone that could potentially harm you. They attributed that to why you had a hard time making friends and socializing with others growing up. However, when you got your diagnosis, it all just clicked. You were smart, absurdly smart, and you made sure everyone knew it. Your lack of humility when it came to making people know their place made you a very prominent figure at school. Some kids liked you (probably because you got into a local college at such a young age) and others didn't, but you had a nice routine that you wouldn't trade for the world.

Everyday you would come home from your tedious college classes where your teachers cared more about transition words than the actual essay.

“Hello,” You called, entering your house. Soda was on the couch and smiled at you. “Hey, Y/n. How was school?” Darry called from the kitchen.

“Stupid, as usual.” You said, putting your bag down and sitting down neatly on the couch next to Soda.

“That's too bad.” Soda said, “Should've put you in a high class where people could actually compete with this” He said, tapping your head. You nod along with him.

“Glad you know it, Soda.”

“Dinners ready!” Darry called.

You all sat down at the table and Ponyboy jumped in through the front door.

“You'll never guess what!” He said excitedly. He pointed at a paper.

“The paper Y/n helped me with just won an award at my school!” He said. Darry and Soda high five him and you smiled.

“I hope it's because you took my corrections into account. Your beginning essay was very hard to fix.”

He and Soda laughed while Darry let out a chuckle.

“OK, Y/n, how about you tell us about your day?” Darry asked.

[strlingsav]

Drive: Seven

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Explicit content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Johnny called you out of the blue, wanting to meet up following your leave. Up to that point, you weren't sure how Johnny felt about you- you had an inkling he'd known all along about your secret affair with Simon, though not to what extent. The phone call didn't allow for much insight, either, a quick conversation that did nothing to settle your nerves. Surely, he'd be curious; if not pissed off.

You were a bit hesitant to blindly agree to meeting him, and when he mentioned Kyle, your blood ran cold wondering if Simon or John were sitting with them.

You finally agreed, after reassurance that neither men were there. He purposely emphasized that Simon was on base for the evening and had declined his invite. The thought made you cringe- you worried you'd isolated him from his friends, his teammates, and it was your fault he was hiding away and not out drinking.

You managed to peel yourself from the confines of your bed; pulling on causal clothes, running your fingers through your hair and washing your face. Your mental health had certainly suffered the last few months; your motivation to take care of yourself had been hindered by self-deprecating thoughts.

You managed to apply a bit of makeup and pull your hair into a suitable condition. Though it wasn't your usual standard, Johnny and Kyle wouldn't notice a difference- and you didn't care.

The two men were at opposite sides of the table when you arrived, Johnny's arm resting on the seat while he nodded along to something Kyle was saying. They greeted you, quick hugs and hellos offered before you sat down beside Kyle.

"You been alright?" Johnny asked, his hand wrapped around his beer.

You could tell he practically spat the question out, like it was trapped in his throat, waiting to burst out. His face showed no expression- not empathy or anger, and you knew you needed to proceed with a cautious response.

The noise of the bar drowned out any worries you had of awkward silences or pauses while you tried to come up with a story better than the truth.

"Yeah," You nodded, cracking a small smile. "Aside from being discharged and publicly humiliated."

"Donnae think too hard on it. Nobody blames you- shoulda been Ghost gettin' tossed; Price kisses his fuckin' arse."

"It's not his fault," You shook your head. "I also should've known better."

"He was your superior officer," Kyle added. "It was his responsibility." You winced at the word 'was'- another reminder of the loss you'd suffered.

"But we both wanted this- it," You corrected yourself. It was silent for a few moments, before you spoke up again. "Let's just move on," You smiled awkwardly.

"Aye," Johnny nodded. "You heard from him?"

"Thought we were moving on?" You raised a brow.

"Too good not to share details," Johnny grinned.

"I did, and then I ended it- I guess."

"Ended it?" Johnny asked. "Ghost's been chattin' my fuckin' ear off about you. You sure that's what you want?"

"You're not my therapist, Johnny," You rolled your eyes, a grin on your lips.

"No- but the lad's desperate for you, tell you that much."

"It's not feasible," You shrugged. "Not when we don't work together. I can't put that on him."

"Anythin's possible," Kyle entered. "Even if it's just to shut him up," He laughed, watching Johnny.

"I can't," You interjected. "I got ahead of myself with the feelings part- I know that. I just think I felt more for him than I thought I did."

"No shame in it," Johnny shook his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I'd never seen that big bastard happier. Y'should tell him."

You tilted your head, sighing softly. "It doesn't- and I won't, but thanks." You grinned.

"So what now?" Kyle asked, leaning in.

"Nothing. Find a job, settle down. Like a normal person."

"We'll miss havin' you around, that's for sure," Johnny nodded.

"Thanks, Johnny."

"Normal people tell other people how they're feeling," Kyle eyed you down, an eyebrow raised while he subtly scolded you. "Instead of avoiding it."

"I'm not normal just yet, Kyle. Can't you just say you'll miss me?"

"I'll miss you," He teased.

You sighed at his response. Their advice was well-intended, but a voice in your head still warned against being honest with Simon. You worried it would create expectations, standards that he couldn't uphold from across the world.

If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, the humiliation of being discharged would only be accompanied by rejection from the very reason you were let go to begin with. It made your stomach churn to imagine telling Simon- the lingering stare he'd give, the apologies and polite goodbyes. It would sting far worse than just leaving it as it was.

You must've been staring off into the distance, hardly touching your drink as Johnny and Kyle dragged you back onto shore. They offered to play a round of pool with you- take your mind off everything, but you wanted to sit and stew.

You took up a seat at the bar while they played, fingers playing with the plastic toothpick you snagged. You felt like shit. Not just because you'd lost your job, but because you'd lost Simon. You were sure he'd take you back in a heartbeat, but it didn't mean anything. Your feelings were as pointless as they'd always been. You felt absolutely ridiculous for knowing that from the very beginning, but proceeding anyway.

You wanted to be mean. You wanted to keep being unavailable and distant, until he lost interest and left you alone. It was hard- hard not to call him, hear his voice. So you promised yourself to be mean, because if you were to see him, you'd crumble, fall into the abyss where he'd been waiting for you.

Your attention was grabbed by a man sliding in next to you, getting a bit too close for comfort and leaning into your personal space. You looked up to meet his gaze, finding an unfamiliar face beside you.

Ordinarily, you'd have been flattered by his bold actions, but your mind only had enough space for one man at the moment- Simon.

"You drinking alone?" He asked, leaning over the bar.

Your expression remained flat as you nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"Want another one?" He nodded toward the drink in your hand.

You lifted your head again, uninterested in anything but the woodgrain of the bar.

"I'm okay," You smiled politely.

"C'mon," He grinned. "I'm a stranger offering to lend an ear- nothing more."

Your patience had already begun to wear thin, especially as he kept that same grin across his face. Before you could say another word, someone else did for you.

"Fuck off, yeah mate?" Simon's voice interjected from behind you, causing your eyes to widen.

"That's- I'm sorry," You said, offering an apology to the man.

Your jaw clenched as you spun to face Simon, watching the stranger you were politely chatting with turn away with widened eyes. Your eyes met Simon's, your brows furrowing with frustration.

"That was rude," You said. "What are you doing here?"

"Weren't gonna tell me you were here?" Simon asked, his eyes surveilling the room before he leaned closer and looked at you.

"I don't report to you anymore," You said back, watching him grimace.

"Quit the fuckin' attitude," He growled. "Didn't think I'd find out you were meetin' with Johnny and Kyle?"

"I was sure you would," You shrugged. "Just didn't realize I needed permission to be here."

He leaned down and ordered a strict, 'come with me' while he herded you out the front door. His hand gripped your arm, gently guiding you forward so he could talk with you in peace and quiet.

It was damp outside, a bit of a chill while progressing into Spring. Your breath in the air appeared before you, and Simon's hand on your arm offered a comforting warmth.

He lead you to his truck, opening the door as he gestured for you to get in.

"Simon-"

"Get in the fuckin' truck."

You sighed, stepping in to sit in the warmth of his vehicle, while he rounded the front of his truck to get in the driver's seat. He put it in drive, starting toward your apartment without allowing you to get a word in.

"What's goin' on?" He asked, hand clinging to the wheel as you leaned back against the seat. "Y'can't keep avoidin' me. You just fuck me and leave?"

Your eyes dodged his, staring at the street ahead of you. You knew you'd break down- one drink in, and it had loosened you up just enough to get emotional and honest.

He huffed; drawing your name out in that low, raspy voice that tugged on your heartstrings and sent chills up your back. Your gaze met his pleading eyes, lifting your head to find the brown irises that made your knees weak.

"You didn't have to come," You said finally. "Did Johnny call you?"

"Doesn't matter who called me," Simon tilted his head. "Answer me," He said, briefly peering over at you.

"I don't know, Simon," You narrowed your eyes.

"Don't know why you're avoidin' me?"

"I don't know about anything," You laughed, exasperated and tired.

"Talk to me, sweetheart," He said, voice just above a whisper, soft and gentle- like he usually was with you.

"Don't do that," You shook your head, your eyes closing so you wouldn't have to see the look that could break you in seconds. "Don't be sweet and nice to me."

He chuckled, "Why's that?"

"I've been an asshole," You sighed, tears welling in your eyes.

"Just tell me what's goin' on, and we can fix it."

"There's no we, no us."

He quickly pulled over, finding a spot on a quiet gravel road that had trees hanging over it, and long grass in the ditch. His head turned as he gave all his attention to you.

"I beg to fuckin' differ. Don't care if you ain't answerin' my calls, you're mine, remember that?" His hand came to rest on your thigh.

"I can't-," You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as stray tears fell. "I can't, Simon. We can't do this."

"Why's that?"

You exhaled harshly, sniffling as a lump grew in your throat. You swallowed, finding his eyes in the darkness.

"Because I love you," You whispered. "And I can't do that while you're miles away. And I can't ask you stay." Your voice began to quiver, which was more irritating than bearing your feelings to him.

He was silent for a few moments, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. His chest was tight, your admission of your feelings made him feel warm, content.

"Y'don't have to ask," He shook his head. "'It'll always be you. I'll always love you," He said quietly. "Y'know that, right?"

Your breath caught in your chest, desperately holding onto your last shred of self-control, eyeing down his lips. Your eyes dried themselves with the help of his words, a yearning forming in your chest that begged to be satiated by him.

"I don't know-" You started, shaking your head.

"It's you," He repeated, craning his neck to meet your eye line. "It's you, love."

His voice was low, quiet and full of sincerity. It churned your stomach.

"I just want you to be sure," You nodded. "And I want you to be here. And I don't know if you can be either of those things- and I understand." Your voice wavered again, the lump in your throat returning.

"Fuckin' 'ell," He nearly grinned, letting out a short chuckle of disbelief. "I have to get you a ring to sort you out? 'M sure. Always was- am."

"Don't joke about shit like that," You sighed, looking away, attempting to fight off the vulnerability of your position, and keep him at an arm's length.

"Jokin'? It ain't far off, love. Just waitin' for the right time." His hand briefly touched your cheek.

"It doesn't change the distance," You reasoned, watching him shake his head.

"It's finished," He answered. "My work with 141- overseas- it's done. 'M here for good, sweetheart."

"Johnny didn't mention that?" You said, tilting your head.

"'Course he didn't. I asked him to let me tell you myself."

You gasped, "I knew he called you!"

He shrugged. "Johnny ain't what I was here to talk about."

"You're here? For good?" Your brows raised themselves as you interrogated him.

"Long as you'll have me."

A rush of relief, excitement flooded through you. All the walls you'd broken down to find the gooey centre of emotion within him- it was more than worth it. The fruition of a crush you'd had since the first time you saw him; it made your heart pound.

He was real, genuine, more than just the stoic lieutenant you pinned him as. And he loved you- wholly and without conditions, obviously and without shame- even when it threatened his career. It was the perfect ending to the most fucked-up fairytale you'd ever seen.

You pursed your lips, slotting yourself closer to his seat. "As long as you want to stay," You said- resolute.

"Have t'kill me to keep me away," He teased.

Your stomach flipped, a laugh exploding from you before he cut you off with a kiss, soft and apprehensive. You shivered against him, warm lips against yours awakening the nerves in your body.

Once your mind had caught up with your body, your hands grabbed at his shoulders. It made you sigh into his mouth, savouring the feeling you'd missed. You missed him, undoubtedly, and the thought of one day being more than what you were in '141' made your heart jump.

Your smile broke through the kiss, and his greedy hands were grabbing and pulling at your waist in an attempt to keep you close. You giggled while his hands worked their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly, pulling you onto his lap. You could feel his arousal through his jeans- his hard cock pressed against you.

"'Member the first time I had you like this," He whispered against your neck, his fingers working at your pants' button. "Naughty fuckin' girl you were. Still are," You could hear the grin on his face.

His hand slipped beneath your pants, running his fingers gently over your pussy. He let out a short exhale.

"Still get so fuckin' wet for me, don't you, sweetheart?"

His rhetorical question made goosebumps appear over your skin. You pulled yourself closer to his chest, ground your pussy over his hand. Your deep breaths fanned over his chest, your fingers digging into the tight T-shirt covering his skin. You wanted more- wanted to feel him again.

Your hands worked quickly to slide his shirt off, your palms running down the thick muscle of his chest, fingers tracing the divots and protrusions of his abdomen. He let out a quiet grunt, his cock twitching in his jeans at the feel of your soft hands on his body.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging your hand down to his groin, allowing you to grab a handful of his crotch- he moaned quietly when your gentle hand caressed his cock, short huffs from his nose as his fingers worked their way inside you.

"Take 'em off," He ordered, fiddling with your waistband with his other hand.

He helped you to sit forward while you slid your pants down your hips, removing your feet from the confines of your jeans before settling back on his lap.

His calloused hands slid up and down your thighs, rounding your full hips. His fingers found the scar, the patched-up hole in your leg; you shivered as he looked down at it.

"First time I've felt it," He said, out of the blue. "Hurt at all?"

You shook your head, "No." Your cheeks flushed, overwhelmed by everything that had come together in the last few moments but especially as he dusted his fingers across your scar.

He squeezed your flesh reassuringly, leaning up to press a soft kiss against your lips. Your hands, in turn, moved quickly to unzip his pants, gently taking his cock in your hand as you knelt up on the seat.

He helped to guide his cock to the warmth of your pussy, the soft, wet flesh beckoning him closer until he sunk in, and you began to relax, sliding down his cock. Your pussy swallowed him whole, his pulsating cock twitching within your welcoming walls- his head fell back, and your hands landed on his shoulders.

"Shit, baby," You exhaled, your hips stationary while you acclimated yourself to his size again.

"Just as fuckin' heavenly," He whispered, strong hands kneading the flesh of your ass and hips. "Though now s'all mine," He grinned, smug and assured.

Your hips rolled forward, the first thrust easing any discomfort, and making you flinch when your clit rubbed against the short curls at the base of his cock. You exhaled again, a quiet shudder as he filled you entirely, so deliciously hot and hard inside you.

Your hands met behind his head, pulling yourself closer as you found your stride, taking his cock deeper inside you while grinding your clit against him.

"That's right, love," He said approvingly, his hands gripping your hips, helping you forward. "Ride it- y'know how I like it, don't you?" He cooed, greedy fingers squeezing your waist and ass in his hands.

"Keep talking," You whispered against his cheek. "I missed your voice," You said.

"That right?" He practically hummed, though a bit choked as you rode his cock. "Think you missed more than that- greedy fuckin' girl."

His hand left a slap against your ass, making you hiss softly.

"Simon-" You warned. "No teasing, been too long," You groaned.

"You wanna cum, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice dripping with mockery.

You nodded, your breaths heavier as you chased your orgasm, his voice leaking into your abdomen and pushing you forward with every single word. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, your breasts flush with his chest.

"Make me cum," You sighed.

He put two fingers in his mouth, before reaching your clit and stroking softly in a circular motion. Your back arched into his touch, practically bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

"Yes- yesyesyes," You gasped.

He let out a short, strangled grunt at feeling your pussy flutter around his cock.

"Fuckin' Christ, love," He spat, his fingers digging into your waist as he helped you ride him.

Your breath caught in your chest, warmth flooding your abdomen as you clenched your jaw, your pussy contracting around him. Your vision blurred for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut while your climax rushed over you within a matter of moments.

Stars obstructed your view of him while you blinked softly, and he wrapped a gentle hand around your throat. You quickly realized he'd released inside you already- overly sensitive and cringing each time you moved forward.

"Sorry," You gasped, relaxing into his chest, his cock still erect inside you.

"S'alright, sweetheart." He pulled your forward to kiss you, soft lips against yours.

He helped you over to the passenger seat, offering his T-shirt to help clean yourself up. Once settled back in your jeans, and sliding the seatbelt over you, you turned to him with a soft smile.

"Let's go home."

[crisiscutie]

I always wonder why SQEX use the title 'Crisis' to almost every prequel of FF7, i.e Crisis Core, Before Crisis, Ever Crisis. Is 'crisis' really implied toward Sephiroth?

Also, I'm apprehensive on playing the next part of FF7R because I don't want to beat up poor Sephy again (TT_TT). No matter how many ppl say he is strong or evil, to me he's just a poor baby.

But I'll definitely play when SQEX decide to release a sequel where Sephiroth as the main character. I even got in a habit of apologizing to the monitor whenever I finally defeat Seohiroth. Am I weird? Does anyone else feels like this?

No anon, don't feel weird about being yourself~!

༻❁༺ Crisis Cutie's Favorite Word?

Personally, I think "Crisis" could be applied as a collective term to FF7's cast. It's definitely one of Sephiroth's special words alongside reunion and despair, though. We know little about Sephiroth's role in EC now, but I wonder if his story arc will be another variant of his identity crisis, like in Crisis Core and Before Crisis. It'd certainly be an emotional crisis regardless, though.

I feel you on Sephiroth but at the same time; I understand the need to put him down, and it brings such heavy feelings to my heart. 💔💔💔 I've noticed that almost no one seems to give Sephiroth any empathy, even Aerith, who's pretty much the Sora of the series.

Sephiroth's actions brought everyone deep sorrow and crisis. It's clear why they felt such despair and hatred towards him. Quick disclaimer, I'm not blaming anyone or anything here, just pointing something out. Also Aerith just knows there is no turning Sephiroth from the path of evil. In 7R, she's completely right when she told him that everything about him was wrong, in every sense.

༻❁༺ Cycle of Pain

I knew Vincent indirectly expressed empathy (from what I remembered). He understood how the circumstances of Sephiroth's birth lead him to who he is. That's why he couldn't bring himself to confront Lucrecia with the harsh reality of what her son had become...

And we as the audience have the benefit of seeing both sides of the story. I understand why Sephiroth's trauma of abandonment, emotional abuse, and killing/fighting was became much to bear, leading to his breakdown in Nibelheim.

And I can imagine the despair and fury that Tifa and Cloud experienced when Sephiroth committed his abhorrent acts at Nibelheim. Tifa refused to be part of the cycle of pain that Sephiroth kept alive, and instead extended a hand to Cloud, saving him from his own descent. Without the bonds that Cloud had built, he could have easily become like Sephiroth.

Vincent, like Tifa, made the decision to break the cycle for himself. Despite his broken bonds and difficult circumstances, he was able to stay true to his inner goodness and remain on the path of good.

༻❁༺ Another Crisis Game Please!

I would love to play a game starring Sephiroth. Honestly, I think Crisis Core should've been the game for the First Class Boyos. It just had too much going on within the plot (IMO) and the game suffered from the constraints of originally being a handheld game. Zack is a great character, but honestly, he was just "there" a lot of times. He only took a permanent, active role closer to the end, which he had to for plot reasons. And I loved it!

Zack saw the results of his attempt to live heroically and play by the rules... It had not brought him to his hoped-for destination. He tried so hard to endure the terrible events and he did! But his prize was death and betrayal. Like Aerith, he was just too good for the world... It's interesting how similar his death is to hers. They faced immense hardships, but their powerful sense of morality and bonds kept them true to themselves while dying for a selfless and noble cause.

Honestly, the whole main cast of FF7 needs a fountain of hugs.

[septembersghost]

Sorry to send this random message, but since you like both elvis and taylor I was curious for your opinion. I've seen people comparing would've could've should've to elvis and priscilla's relationship and that they can't wait for videos set to that when the priscilla movies comes out... saying elvis is like the subject of that song stuns me and breaks my heart, but what do you think?

don't be sorry honey! <3 it's such a complex topic and is often misjudged/weaponized with the worst intent, which tends to be unfair to both of them.

prefacing this with priscilla herself saying, “It’s hurtful, for a man who has given so much, to have others pick him apart. I’ll die defending him and his legacy. Because he deserves it.”

also going to refer to this ask from a few months ago.

okay, to be more blunt than i typically am, their relationship overall should not have happened, for a lot of reasons and both their sakes, but i don't like saying that because it erases the love they shared, cilla's agency, lisa marie's existence (and her children's), and the entirety of the life they shared, and i don't think that's right to do. should elvis have turned her down gently and guided her away when they first met? probably! should her parents have put their foot down and told her absolutely not, in no uncertain terms, were they sending her to memphis, and insisted she move on and continue her normal life? yes. she was an emotional young woman who was head over heels in love with one of the biggest stars in the world, and who can blame her, but she would've gotten over it. but that's not what happened. so we have to contend with what did.

elvis was a complicated, sometimes mercurial, often wonderful, man. he had come through extraordinary and extreme events literally from birth, and certainly in the rise of his star, experienced a certain degree of...i don't want to use this phrase, but arrested development?...because of his unusual circumstances. (no judgment on that, i have talked many times about being frozen at 19 because of what's happened in my life, i really empathize with why certain things were difficult and disorienting for him in my own tiny way, just like i, as someone chronically ill, hold empathy for his health too). he was dealing with what i'd categorize not only as profound grief and loneliness following his mother's death, but also compounded trauma for a number of reasons.

i think about the quote from his costar in follow that dream, anne helm, saying he was still such an innocent, "He was surrounded by a lot of people that took advantage of his generosity. It was a more innocent time. I mean, Elvis was -- how old was he? 24, 25? [Actually, Elvis was 26 when the film was shot in the summer of 1961.] He was a baby, and I was, too. We were very young. As much as Elvis was a celebrity, he was a big kid, he was a lot of fun." he had an inherent earnestness and compassion that was guileless.

one of his contradictions here is that, with priscilla, he also had a paternalistic quality where he was looking after her and doing what he thought was best for her. the people who try to frame this as predatory claim he was abusing her, even though that is not how priscilla characterizes it. he had this need to nurture and be nurtured, and he tried to look after her, but he was far from perfect in doing so since his lifestyle wasn't conducive to some of what she needed. that said, he set definitive boundaries with her for a reason. had he been preying on her maliciously, the end goal would've always been exploiting her in some way (namely for sex), but we know he decidedly didn't do that, that in fact she was very frustrated with him because he refused to sleep with her for multiple reasons, and wouldn't until they were married. by which point she was very much a consenting adult.

guiding her look the way he did i don't think he meant to be controlling or harmful, his approach wasn't inherently abusive, it came from genuine care. everyone knew he was pushing it, but they were in love and sometimes no amount of arguing will defy that. he had conflicted feelings about marriage, but i think he really did desire that security of family and love and home, even though he struggled with the commitment of that, and he also never felt wholly seen, safe, or secure in any of his romantic relationships. (this wasn't unique to priscilla, it's a recurring theme). and tbh a lot of that was also likely rooted in trauma, because that has effects on a person.

it's also relevant to note that it was an entirely different time. outrage on the internet prefers to ignore this, but it's vital for context. it may not excuse their initial connection, but by the time she went to memphis, and certainly by the time they got married, their romance and marriage wouldn't have been that unusual. the age gap discourse has gotten REALLY BAD and utterly flattened in a way that ignores all nuance and all particulars of the human beings involved. it doesn't always equate to abuse. it's unkind at the least and dehumanizing at the most to categorize every dynamic that way, and when priscilla herself refutes it and has never called herself a victim, i am not going to categorize him that way. relationships are vast and unique and imperfect, and sometimes people just fall in love! it's not intended for mass consumption or approval by total strangers, especially decades later.

priscilla herself discusses her girlhood and her growth into womanhood, and how much a part of it he was, how he was often many different roles to her. she mentions her naivete, her feelings of unsophistication, and how she grew into herself.

they both grew and changed. and some of that led them in distinctly different directions. she also mentions how they shared a connection and warmth, that in many ways they found more kindnesses and understanding for one another after they divorced. she, and we, will never know how their dynamic might have continued because his death closed that door forever, but she has grieved and loved him. she's not perfect either, and certainly i don't agree with everything she's done, but i cannot abide vilifying elvis and victimizing priscilla when that wasn't their story. they both deserve better and more understanding than that.

how dare people decide for her that she was deceived or that her girlhood was stolen? how dare people disregard her own words and experience and the love she has for him in such a puerile and vicious way?

taylor's story is HER STORY. she didn't intend for it to be applied to others without their consent, or copy/pasted over other dynamics. what she experienced with john was wholly different. he did take advantage of her in a calculated sense. he did use her youthful worship of him and how enamored she was to manipulate her, and then turned it against her. it wasn't a loving dynamic between them at all - she was in love and he got an ego boost and thought he could also make a conquest. it damaged some of her sense of herself, her approach to sex, love, and relationships, and permanently impacted her in some ways - even if she's healed, she shared that the scars still exist and haunt her. it's nowhere near the same tone that priscilla (nor any woman) uses about elvis. i think it's awfully presumptuous and cruel to decide to boil them down to 30 second fan edits using an extremely raw and personal song written generations later about an entirely different experience.

it's...gross and exploitative, not supportive or sympathetic to cilla. the agenda of it to cut down elvis is transparent. lisa would hate it. i really, really disagree with it and it's just a way to outrage bait. and it breaks my heart too. i know it's going to happen, i'm sure those little tiktoks will be prevalent, but i will not be giving them any credence or attention. i respect them both too much for that, and understand their mistakes and imperfections, and tbh cherish him more as a human, a sensitive and generous soul, and an artist than anyone can ever understand when they try to tear him down.

[bcnes-archived]

"What, lie to a superior officer? Me?" Bones raises a brow with faux incredulity, though he is sincere about his honesty. "I'm serious, Jim, if all I wanted was to make you feel better I'd be pouring you a drink."

Maybe half the crap that comes out of Jim's mouth is bullshit, but it's particularly inspiring bullshit, the sort that makes Leonard understand in a rare moment of clarity why men like him are willing to give up everything to chase Kirk across the universe. He's worth restructuring your life for. Sure, he could do without the monologues ( he has to wonder sometimes if anybody at Starfleet even listens to his logs half the time ), but Jim has a well is wisdom in him that even he seems unaware of, as frequently as he taps into it. Perhaps that, too, is due to his sheer amount of empathy. McCoy's got it, of course, for those who are sick or hurt or in need, but it's not as personal as Jim's. Jim clings to everything with the fervor of a dying man. Leonard, who finds that sort of close vulnerability unsettling, wonders frequently how he doesn't burn himself out with it. But by all accounts Jim should've been burnt out years ago by a wide number of things, and yet here he is starting fires as quickly as he puts them out.

It's little wonder, then, that Kirk of all people is able to see so easily through all the layers of bullshit Spock and Bones throw up. It takes a uniquely deranged sort of man to try and do what Kirk did - does - and worm his way into the lives of two individuals who want nothing to do with anybody foolish enough to get close to them. Doubly foolish is the way he slides so easily into the middle of their verbal wars, somehow consistently finding a way to weather walking a clean line between Spock ( who McCoy knows is so terrified of the pain that emotions are capable of inflicting upon himself and others ) and Leonard ( who can't fathom wanting to live without that pain, which has inspired all his work and drawn him closer to who he wants to be ). It's two perspectives that should be without compromise and yet they find it regardless in one Jim Kirk.

His thoughts fall there and stay, settling. He wonders at what point Jim and Spock became a tangled-up knot in his head, one he's capable of separating. An inoperable tumor, if he were to be less charitable.

"You know, it's only a five-year mission," Leonard drawls. "And we mortal men aren't half as long-lived as those Vulcans. Maybe you ought to tell him to hurry it up." Were it anyone else he may have jerked back at the arm that loops around his waist, but Kirk has always been a touchy-feely individual and McCoy has found he doesn't mind. Besides, it feels instinctive, gravitating over to Jim, positioned right by his side. He moves with him without resistance. It's comfortable when it's Jim - well, either of them, really, because even Spock's careful touches on the shoulder or elbow have grown to feel natural, part of how they all move in sync.

If he thinks on it too hard it turns him to drink, makes him confused and jittery. Therefore he opts not to think about it. Whatever it is is what it is, and without a name you don't have to be wary of it. He won't even take the wide-open opportunity to remark that he bets Jim has put all kinds of thought into how to best climb Spock.

"But you're right. I'd keel over dead out of pure shock if I ever heard a genuine compliment from that man." Not wanting to pull away, he puts his hands on Jim's shoulders. "Say, there's a thought. Maybe he knows. Maybe he's trying to spare the ship from handling my untimely death. It's only logical."

When he says sometimes , he means most of the time. He does go along with Spock’s logic in most situations , but half of the reason is because it sounds better than any other plan Kirk could think up. Or , it makes Bones so frustrated you can see the smoke coming out of his ears. It depends on the severity of the situation , of course. The way he leads hinges on the happiness of his crew , on making sure everyone he commands is comfortable and safe. Even if it means risking his own safety. His life. Hell , even the countless number of strangers they meet on their travels , under the guise of being a part of Starfleet Command , fall victim to Jim Kirk’s fatal flaw : his passion. His affinity to love.

❛ Good , I’m glad it is. ❜ He chuckles softly , shaking his head. Sometimes he’s worried that a lot of his words fall flat. He’s aware that he’s not the best , motivation wise. At least , not when he’s trying to be. It seems that his best lines come when he’s not trying at all. And this is another prime example of that.

Spock’s a hard man to read , coming from his Vulcan heritage. Something tells Kirk that it wouldn’t be nearly as hard , if he didn’t also have that human half in him. A man of two worlds , so different from each other that he’s practically split in two. Always standing on the edge ── a man who has never fully belonged in either place. Even still , after their years of knowing each other , he’s found it easier to pick up on Spock’s emotions , no matter how desperately he tries to subdue them. How far deep beneath the surface they get pushed. There’s an internal struggle in him that Kirk sees every day , a battle to decide which will overcome : his logic , or his emotions. It surprises him just how often people forget that Spock is indeed a man of two different worlds , a man that does indeed feel emotion. A man who , if he decides to show emotion , gets shunned. But if he doesn’t ? He meets the same fate. Something that Jim tried to convey to Bones , but there was never a good time. Nor a good way to put it into words.

A soft huff of air leaves his nose as he exhales , eyes flicking back up to Bones as he gravitates towards him. His smile grows just a bit wider , an eyebrow raising in the process. ❛ Now , wait a second - ❜ He says , interrupted by the gentle nudge of his shoulder. Quick thinking , on McCoy’s part. Kirk lets out a laugh. ❛ You don’t need to lie to make me feel better , Bones. I hear the shit that comes out of my mouth , believe it or not. ❜ Even he knows that half of the things he says are stupid as all hell , he just chooses not to admit it in front of the crew. He’s got to be smarter than he lets on , as the Captain. After a momentary pause , he hums , fingers drumming against his thighs. He’s right , after all. They have tried - and they’ve tried everything. Maybe , just maybe , all that pressure is doing more harm than good.

A hand raises again , gently finding its way around Bones’ waist. Kirk’s legs then part , the hand gently guiding the doctor between them , standing close to the chair that the captain sits on. He smiles. ❛ He just needs time. ❜ Like they haven’t given him years already. But Vulcans live a lot longer than humans do , of course. ❛ Sometimes it’s not about chipping away at it. Sometimes it’s about the climb. ❜ His head tilts upwards , getting a good look at the other’s face. ❛ Besides , you know just as well as I do that we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if he started showing his emotions. ❜

[thevindicativevordan]

On Kong Kenan/Super-Man

It should've been him. He should've been the Superman of 5G/Future State/right now not Jon, and he should be the one getting an HBO Max series not Val. Hell he should be getting a movie!

God this dude is literally the best legacy character Superman has ever gotten, wholly his own person with his own lore and status quo while still building on the idea of "Superman". I am so pissed at DC for essentially just dropping him after his ongoing ended, what the hell Lee? You keep trying to make the Wildstorm characters happen, I need you to get my man Yang another Kenan book.

Have to admit I was a bit nervous at first about whether or not Kenan would be a worthwhile character. Yang's New 52 Superman run had been a disappointment to me overall, with only the the arc where Superman has underground wrestling matches against forgotten gods really sticking with me. Now he was introducing a brand new Superman? Didn't feel like he had "earned" that yet. But from the first issue I was hooked on this new character.

Kenan was unlike any other member of the Superfamily. He wasn't kind or sweet, he was an asshole! He was a bully! He was fantastic! Right from the start Kenan was set up to undergo a very different kind of character journey than the other members of the Superfamily. Empathy, humility, respect for people weaker than himself, these are all traits most heroes wearing the S-shield already posses by the time they first don the crest, but not Kenan.

Like all bullies he was even a bit of a coward himself at first, trying to bail on the experiment meant to give him Superman's powers right as it begins. After "saving" Lixin (the kid he bullies and steals lunch from every day) from Blue Condor he demands all the money Lixin has on him as payment. He's not courageous or selfless either at the start, Kenan is as much of an opposite of Superman as you can get short of being Bizarro. Learning the appeal of these traits formed the basis for his growth over the course of his series.

Seeing Yang bring in a lot of recognizable "Superman" elements in the series, but with a twist, was also great. Kenan is the one who bullies "Luo Lixin" rather than the traditional Clark/Lex friendship of Pre-Crisis and Birthright. Initially Kenan develops a crush on intrepid reporter for Primetime Shanghai, Laney Lan, but she dismisses him as too young and Kenan eventually ends up pursuing Avery Ho (Flash) instead. Baxi the Bat-Man of China has a similar relationship with Kenan as the traditional Superman/Batman in terms of being vitriolic best buds, however Baxi is the one who has the most respect for authority while Kenan is the rebel. Kenan is a part of the "Justice League of China" which does not meet with the approval of the already established Chinese superheroes, the Great Ten. That contrasts nicely with the good relationship the Justice Society and Justice League have, as well as seeing Yang lampshade the "Chinese copy" trope and incorporate that into his storytelling.

One of the funniest differences is how Kenan chooses to immediately reveal his identity as Super-Man to the world by taking off the compliance visor he was forced to wear, contrasting with Clark's choice to hide his identity. He was so eager to impress people that he never gave any thought to the danger he could put himself or his family in by revealing his identity until it was too late, something Clark is well aware of and has taken great pains to keep his identity secret. Was a missed opportunity for DC to have Kenan comment on Clark copying him for once when he outed himself under Bendis.

But one of the most poignant differences between Clark and Kenan is the gulf in separation between their relationship with their parents. Clark has a loving relationship with Ma and Pa Kent, trying to live up to their lessons as best he can. In contrast Kenan's mom was believed to have died in an airplane crash when he was just a child, and he never really knew her. His father was distant from him after that and the two weren't really close despite Kenan's attempts to impress him. So Kenan lacks that strong connection while still clearly loving both of them.

Pa Kent's death is one of the most tragic examples of Clark's love for his parents, and I've always been a fan of takes where Clark promises his father to fight for the powerless on Pa's deathbed. Kenan gets a similar scene at the start of his career, his dad "dies" (after being exposed as Flying General Dragon, a pro-democracy "supervillain" from the Chinese authorities perspective) and wants Kenan to promise he'll fight for Truth, Justice, and Democracy. But because Kenan's dad never really bonded with him, Kenan doesn't know what those mean, and can only promise that he never wants to see people die, something his father takes comfort in at least. In classic comic book fashion it's revealed that Dr. Omen, Kenan's "boss" and the one who gave him his powers, saved Kenan's father, because she is Kenan's mother! Kenan's relationship with his parents forms a lot of the crux of his character arc, and seeing how Yang utilizes the classic Superman concept of family kept the storytelling exciting.

Yang's brilliant exploration of the concept of "Superman" through the prism of Chinese culture was a great way to differentiate Kenan as well.

I absolutely freaking love how he tied to the concept of Qi to the S-shield in particular. Connecting the shape of the shield with the way Kenan has acquired his powers along the path of the Bagua (eight trigrams used in Taoism that represent the fundamental principles of reality), with his octagon S-shield outline representing all eight principles together, was mindblowing! So was the idea of restricting Kenan's access to his powers unless he was actually acting in a Superman manner, that tied his character growth to his power growth in an entertaining manner. There were so many characters and concepts that meshed Chinese and DC lore together, like how Emperor Super-Man was Kenan's "Doomsday", they even recreated that iconic dual kill shot! The Chinese Wonder Woman Peng Deilan, being based on the Chinese Legend of the White Snake! There was even some Korean mythology referenced with the Aqua-Man member of the JLC "Dragonson".

Yang also managed to do a Superman Blue/Superman Red story with Super-Man Yin/Super-Man Yang!

Shameful that it took me a while to realize what Gene Yang was doing but once I caught on I was touched. You can tell how much Yang loved Superman and his mythology, and how he was excited to incorporate as much from Clark as he could, while still using it in a way that was solidly Kenan's. And not just Superman's mythology, but the history and lore of the entire DC Universe. I-Ching got to be brought in, fleshed out, and used as Kenan's mentor! The "Yellow Peril" villain from Detective Comics #1, the comic DC gets its name from was brought in and revamped as I-Ching's twin brother All-Yang! Hats off to Yang for taking a racist caricature and attempting to make him into something more.

This series was a beautiful attempt by Gene Yang to build a space for Asian heroes and villains where they could be more than stereotypes, Kenan himself being a defiant mold-breaker in every regard as the complete opposite of most Asian characters in Western media (a jock, a bully, loves his dad but not on great terms with him, a powerhouse as a hero, etc). So much thought and hard work was poured into this by Yang and his team of artist collaborators.

Especially the costumes, man Kenan had so many great looks. From his starting outfit (which is my favorite Superman variant not worn by Clark himself), to the one with the Yin/Yang shield he acquired later on, to his Super-Man Yin & Super-Man Yang outfits, Kenan looked damn cool. Part of me is bummed they didn't go with the Chinese character shield they toyed around with, but I loved how Yang used the "s-shield" as a plot point, so I'm not too broken up over it.

All that great work Yang did to build that space up has been more or less forgotten sadly. It was nice to see Kenan in the DC Asian Month Celebration issue. Avery is going to be in Justice Incarnate at least (unsurprising considering she was created by Williamson). So fucking bummed that Superman Family Adventures cartoon didn't happen, they were going to have Kenan and John Henry Irons in it! Would've been a dream come true for me to see Irons in animation again, and Kenan making the jump to outside media! Maybe that would've encouraged DC to let Yang keep writing New Super-Man, or at least encouraged them to use him elsewhere instead of allowing him fall into Limbo.

Unfortunately I'm not sure what the future holds for Kenan. Jon is being pushed as Clark's replacement in the comics, with DC keeping all the other contenders such as Kon benched. Calvin is leading the Justice Incarnate team likely due to the upcoming Coates reboot that will make Clark black. Val will probably get something once Taylor leaves Jon's book or once they officially announce the HBO Max show is happening. So where does that leave Kenan, my new favorite PoC legacy hero? Currently my only hope is that Yang is working on something for DC involving him. Yang left Batman/Superman, where I was hoping to see a Baxi/Kenan team up, to go work on "exciting other opportunities" per his Twitter. So fingers crossed that there's something in the works for Kenan!

One day I hope he gets his day in the sun again.

[lanxyuu]

bro I recently got a comment on this fic and I AM SOBBING because it's one of the best comments I've received in my life. I've been rereading it every day. The way it describes everything about my story is incredible and it's better than anything I could have written myself 😭😭❤️❤️

Let me try to sum up everything I think about this because it accomplishes so much and it's so good and I'm just like :D :D :D but I'm gonna do my best to put it into words here so…

I love how this kicks off with an absolute bang, like Adaman's wounded in the literal first sentence and the next thing you know the old Pearl leader's dead. It all feels so monumental right from the start, and the story more than delivers on that.

It puts forth such a powerfully bleak picture of the circumstances they're facing… the history they can't move past, the mistakes they repeat, the grief they live with, the roles they struggle to live up to, the threat of another war their clans can't afford… a far darker take on their feud than the game ever gives us, yet it fits into the sequence of the game's events in such a way that I totally believe it.

I love how they're so conflicted almost immediately, with Irida's thoughts of the benefits a truce might bring at odds with her dreams and visions of Adaman's death, often at her hands. And Adaman signing said truce while he's still bleeding under the bandages… it's such a killer line that conveys how they're not there yet, how they don't truly believe in it and you wonder if they ever will, setting the stage perfectly for developments to come.

And yet we see how they're more alike in their struggles than they know, Adaman never letting himself waver, Irida choking back her emotions again and again, how they're both spending a concerning amount of time visiting gravestones and feeling lost. How they can't talk about it even if they need to, because they have an image of strength to keep up and it’s wearing on them both and they’re exhausted and about to crack and finally, in the ruins, they do.

The progression leading up to that (and after that) is so satisfying, how they feel little flickers of empathy but ignore them, how their clans' history of bloodshed and the losses they've personally suffered drive them apart even as things begin to get better, how they're just so tired of it all that at times they can't find it in them to muster a bitter retort anymore. And the continued inner conflict of the moment she tells him he should've died but then an avalanche hits and she doesn't let him.

There's this insight in here that I really like, how they're simultaneously the best and worst people each other could ever confide in or admit weakness to, leaders of rival clans and all that, but it might ironically be safer than breaking down before their own clans and if anybody could understand their troubles, they would. It's such a key part of what makes these two work to me and I love the way you've gone about illustrating it.

And so they go the distance from very real threats to each other’s lives to crying on each other's shoulders and have to face the obvious problem of how to even act after that, and it's awkward, of course it is, but they joke and genuinely smile and let down their guards in a way they didn't before and it feels so good after all that hurt, how they're there for each other in the aftermath of the two gods shocker and everything from that point onward. The festival kiss, the sunrise, the callback to their night in the ruins… oh my god it's such a journey I can't even and you've executed it amazingly.

- ILikeShorts

For anybody interested in the fic, just— please, just read this, it captures EVERYTHING I hoped my story would be and it's just amazing. Much much gratitude to ILikeShorts, the commenter, for making my entire week with this 💕💕(btw if Adaman x Irida is also your jam, they have a work called Traitorous that you should absolutely check out)

The Things We Spill and Share

Rating: T+ | 1/1 chapters, 13k words | Adaman/Irida | Minor Character Death, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Drama 

Because at some point as they hated and fought and spat, as they circled each other in their futile dance, their feet had fallen into the same step, their hearts the same rhythm.

or: a very, very enemies-to-lovers take on this ship