#IS THIS highly specific? yes. but also. it's real to me!

[menlove]

you are a dyke in the early/mid 2010s. that one episode of black mirror (san junipero), carmilla, the 100, orphan black, and unfortunately orange is the new black is all you have. there are so many white people. you are writing genderbends of popular male ships to make yourself feel something. you put on but i'm a cheerleader for the 10th time that year. you are in high school and you just changed your pronouns.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Dear marzi, for reasons of trying not to give period characters too modern fetishes in my smut, may I have some recs as to where I may find some of that olde fetish content you've previously seen?

On the Wikipedia page for the "corset controversy," unfortunately!

Historians have been taking obvious tightlacing fetish letters seriously for...way too long. And sometimes still are. Confirmation bias is a hell of a thing. Of course, there's no way to 100% tell which letters are fetish fuel and which are real, but generally any that use particularly heightened language or common erotic tropes- or that seem to fly in the face of evidence from extant garments, unedited videos, stock and advertisements from real corset companies, etc. -are to be viewed with suspicion.

(The same is true for letters used now to claim that nipple piercing was a real Victorian trend- for, indeed, the only source is anonymous magazine letters and many of them fall into the same obvious patterns as the tightlacing letters. One DOES describe the alleged process in detail...but it's basically the same as the process for ear-piercing, a service jewelers did commonly offer back then. Just applied to nipples. So whether it's real or not is still uncertain, but it's highly doubtful that large numbers of Victorian women were running around with nipple piercings given that no extant nipple rings have been found, such piercings are never mentioned in letters or diaries or other more concrete sources, etc.)

Besides that, I've seen glimpses of most modern fetishes in various sources:

the Psychopathia Sexualis, a medical manual of "sexual mental illness" (in heavy quotes because things like homosexuality and gender variance are mentioned under that heading), talks about everything from a fetish for tight boots and gloves on women, to bloodplay (initiated by a woman, actually, who wanted to drink her husband's blood), to force-femming, to some very elaborate femdom scenarios that I hope the sex workers in question were paid well for. Of course, since the cases are anonymous, these are also difficult to confirm- but clearly someone had THOUGHT of them, since they're written into the book.

And I've seen at least some of them in other sources, too, including some of the magazines that published the nipple piercing and tightlacing letters. The Englishwomen's Domestic Magazine was notorious for its letters on tightlacing, tight gloves, spanking, etc.

Photographic porn was definitely a thing almost as soon as photography came into being. A lot of it is pretty vanilla, but I could swear I'd seen piss kink photos (with urine painted in after development) before the blog where they were hosted went defunct

James Joyce's letters to his wife get into farting and scat fetish territory. Yes, really.

Speaking of letters, there was one man living here in Boston who, in the late 19th century, wrote letters to his wife describing erotic dreams of her as a giantess who pissed on him and then ate him. I cannot remember his name and it's going to drive me insane all day, but he was the head of Boston's censorship organization, the Watch and Ward society and these letters were first released by his own children for an unauthorized biography written five years after his death. Guess there was little love lost there.

BDSM is old. Like, really old. Old, to quote the sacred texts, as balls. I'm pretty sure there are sexual flagellation texts going back to the Renaissance, but don't quote me on that.

Basically, Rule 34 can be back-applied, too. If it existed, there was a fetish for it, probably. Of course, things that specifically involve modern technology or properties are out, but beyond that...the sky is the limit

[edible-emerald]

Ok so PVP civilization??? I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS???

Spoilers for episode 5 btw

So first off the REVEALS THIS EPISODE??? And the fact that most of them were to the viewer and not to Evbo???

The first reveal I want to talk about is PRINCEZAM REVIVING. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. This means WAY MORE THAN YOU MIGHT INITIALLY THINK.

Princezam's character, in nature, is selfish. He talks highly about how Evbo repeatedly dying is heroic, and while he may be subjecting himself to endless torture, he's saving so many lives, he's a hero, he's a good person. It's implied that Zam believes, if he were in Evbo's position, he would do the same; that he would let himself die to save others. But it's a lie. Because he IS in Evbo's position. HE CAN REVIVE TOO. But he kept it a better secret than Evbo, which is the only reason why he hasn't been endlessly farmed yet.

The second reveal Princezam gives that also shows more about his character and motives is that Evbo has a limited number of revives. He isn't immortal. He's on his last life. If he dies again, he'd be gone forever. And Zam knew this.

And I think something is really, really interesting about this. Because in episode 4, Zam's motive is to make Evbo die over and over indefinitely so he can keep increasing durability of the iron swords and increasing life span. Still an interesting character, but him KNOWING that this solution is temporary, and him KNOWING that Evbo will die permanently soon, changes everything. His motive wasn't to save the iron swords, I actually think he couldn't care less about them. His motive was to kill Evbo.

What else would it be? Why else would Zam KNOWINGLY make Evbo die over and over with every death coming closer to permanent death? Because for whatever reason, Zam wanted to get rid of Evbo. But why? Yes, it's true he was the chosen one. But that leads me into my next point:

Is he?

The only real thing that made Evbo special enough to be the chosen one is that he could revive himself after dying. But he isn't the only one who can. Zam can too; and I believe Tabi and a few other people can as well. So IS he the chosen one? Personally, I don't think he is. I think that someone else is the chosen one, but I'll get to who eventually. What possible motive could Zam have for wanting Evbo dead, if he isn't the chosen one?

Evbo was a diamond sword.

OKOKOK HEAR ME OUT

Evbo was a diamond sword who's memories were erased. He was threatening to like do something (maybe become a netherite sword?) that Zam and others didn't approve of and maybe he was working with Tabi, so both of them were killed and revived in the wooden sword level. But Evbo's memories were erased in the process so Tabi decided to manipulate him and get to the top without him this time. That brings me to the next point.

Tabi has history with some of the diamond swords. Specifically, Ferre. We don't know what yet, but I believe like I said above that she and Evbo were previously diamond swords, and were trying to do something and ended up being killed. Evbo's memories were erased but Tabi's weren't.

I think the reason the diamond swords were willing to let Evbo back in and not Tabi is because he lost all his memories. Maybe, he'll get some back and realize that the diamond layer is corrupt or evil in some way, and team up with Tabi to defeat them. But I don't think so. I think Tabi is evil and had either roped in Evbo, or worked with Evbo but losing his memories made him change.

Anyways, on the topic of reviving, I think it's also safe to say Zam was a diamond sword. First off, he seemed to know the diamond swords personally and disliked them, calling them 'bottom feeders' (which by the way is so fucking funny I giggled so much at that line) also we know he can revive as well so safe to say he was killed and revived there. Maybe he was in the plan (that may or may not exist idfk) with Tabi and Evbo and was killed as well. But I doubt it, considering how he treats Evbo, but then again, his character is very selfish and antagonistic. I think his ultimate motive is to rank up to a netherite sword (which may be godhood like in parkciv?? but we don't know) and he's trying to kill Evbo to take out the competition.

Also this is a minor thing but now we finally know why Zam kept his door closed in episode two, because he had an armor stand too and didn't want the secret to come out.

Now for the final reveal: Parrot has a backstory. And I think I know what it is.

Parrot is the real chosen one.

Ok my evidence for this is mostly speculation but also if Evbo isn't the chosen one than who?? Parrot is a really odd character, like every time he talks it just feels like there's something off about him. He talks a lot about the chosen one, but he acts. Weird. Around Evbo when he finds out that he's the chosen one. Also, for someone so devoted to the chosen one, he's still very much alive; and I point this out because he has a mansion AND a video journaling machine. That costs a lot of swings and I have a feeling he hasn't really ever paid respects to it. Even though he says he has. And why would he? BECAUSE HE'S THE CHOSEN ONE.

If Parrot isn't the chosen one, either one of two things are probably true:

he was a diamond sword

he was a/the netherite sword

I don't really know how these would work in the story the same way the chosen one theory would, but yeah

Thank you for reading my ramblings :33 hopefully I didn't miss anything lmao

ALSO??? WEMMBU AND MINUTE IN A EVBO VIDEO???? HELLO???? IS THIS REAL LIFE????????

[elspeth-tirel]

New Phyrexia As A Cult

Content Warnings: Heavy discussion of cults and cult recruitment, mentions of sexual coercion, abuse, gore in images (New Phyrexian art so if you’re good with that should be all clear)

I’ve seen many people talking about New Phyrexia with the release of Phyrexia: All Will Be One and March of the Machine. And I’ve seen people talk about the misconceptions of New Phyrexia, like assuming it’s a hivemind. Which leads me into the key point I wanted to discuss with this. New Phyrexia isn’t a hivemind, but there’s a reason it’s assumed to be one by most casual fans. I believe it’s most accurately conveyed as a cult, and that analysing and interpreting the specific ways it is like one has a lot of merit for how it is viewed. I’m also aware that most of what I’m saying isn’t new. Am I the first person to say New Phyrexia is a cult? No. But most of the time, I’ve seen people simply use it as a pejorative term to add on to the list of problematic buzzwords to attach when criticising New Phyrexia or the Praetors. And regardless of whether I agree with those people, I do feel it warrants much deeper exploration into why New Phyrexia is a cult.

I know this post likely will stir up a lot of people saying some not positive things about me and it but I felt it needed to be said. To those people who have a knee jerk reaction towards this and are going to immediately want to send me something criticising this, I don’t anticipate you’ll read all of this. But at the end of the document I did include a list of questions I anticipate a few readers will ask, and I would simply like to politely ask that you read that segment before sending anything to me or replying to this post.

To start talking about cults and the nature of New Phyrexia as one, it’s first necessary to answer a few important background questions. Many people are going to ask if I have personal experience with a cult. To that, yes I have, I was raised in one from birth until around age 17. I would not like to discuss this further, I am simply including this so people know when I speak here I know what I am talking about. Another important thing is the definition of a cult. What differentiates a cult from any other religion? Many people disagree on the exact definition, and every now and again you’ll get someone claiming that all religions are cults. But simplifying it that much loses track of the real harm cults do to a person. I feel a key aspect for what a cult is is Dr. Steve Hassan’s BITE model. BITE stands for Behaviour control, Information control, Thought control, and Emotion control. The key difference between a religion and a cult is one of control. Cults invade every sense of your being, they seek to make it so you don’t have a life outside the cult and what is necessary to maintain it. This is why it’s so difficult for people to leave them. There’s a sense of fear of the unknown. That if you leave there’ll be nothing out there for you. Who knows, maybe they made you do terrible things you can never undo, how will the people who weren’t there forgive you? You can accept the bad parts, because the good parts are there and there’s this giant fear of what will happen if you face the unknown, if you leave. Which brings me to my first major discussion point: Ixhel.

For the unaware, Ixhel is the protagonist of the Phyrexia: All Will Be One side story A Hollow Body, by Aysha U. Farah. It’s a fantastic read, I would highly recommend anyone who finds this essay at all interesting read it. For a brief summary, Ixhel was created by Atraxa- who was herself formerly a Mirrordin angel before every Praetor save Urabrask compleated her- to be used as a soldier/assassin. She feels devoted to Atraxa, but tries to suppress her other feelings- the feeling of love, of want of affection and approval. Throughout the story, she faces challenges to this suppression: a phyrexian named Belaxis who aids her in her mission, the Thane of Contracts himself, Geth, who challenges her on her devotion even as she kills him, and Atraxa herself in the end. She successfully completes her mission to slay Geth, but his words bother her. About her being a faceless drone, replaceable. So she takes Belaxis and Geth, and uses the Dominus of the Dross Pits to combine them into one being, now named Vishgraz. 

Atraxa is furious at the idea of their creation. But it’s not necessarily their creation itself that she really has an issue with. It’s that the creation was made without being ordered to. Vishgraz represents a threat to her not in their existence but in showing that Ixhel took an action other than what was ordered, even if she did it in hopes of imitating her superior in the cult. Because if she can take one action away from orders, she can take more. And that is a threat to her loyalty, which must be punished to ensure she stays in line, to ensure she stays another faceless drone. And Ixhel does take another action aside from orders, an even more direct disobedience: she spares Vishgraz’s life when ordered to kill them. 

Ixhel represents someone born into a cult. She only ever did what was ordered, because it was all she knew. But cults are not a natural state of mind, they’re a method of control that can be broken free from. And this shows with Ixhel. She obeyed mindlessly, until she was given another option, an idea of what could help her, what could make her fix those feelings she had been taught to ignore and repress. This is a common experience, it’s certainly one I went through. It’s not the only experience with cults though. Because another thing to mention is recruitment, and Phyrexia: All Will Be One provides a great example of this too.

Another aspect of the storyline for this set was the idea of compleated planeswalkers. This is a new thing for Magic, with the idea introduced in Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty, with Tamiyo. However this was most fully analysed during Phyrexia: All Will Be One’s main story, by Seanan McGuire (who also did a fantastic job with that story, I would highly recommend that one as well). But something I recently came to the realisation of, that I have not seen discussed, is the common factor between every single compleated planeswalker: they’re all the exact types of people who are most vulnerable to recruitment by cults.

If you’re reading this and thinking “most vulnerable” I want you to keep in mind I mean exactly that. Anyone is vulnerable to recruitment by a cult, especially if you think you’re too smart to be recruited. And that’s where our first victim I’ll discuss comes in, Jace Beleren. Jace is a man who prides himself on his intelligence, on his skill with his mind. But in the story, he falls prey to New Phyrexia because he underestimates them, and overestimates his own skills. The love of his life, Vraska, has clearly fallen to compleation. But he thinks he can be smarter; he can use his illusion and mind magic to give her one last day, one last day together with him, where they can pretend like she hasn’t been infected. And that is what makes him be taken in by the cult.

Jace fell for it because he wanted to be clever and thought he was too smart, but also out of love and devotion to someone else who fell. I believe even if he knew what would happen he would do it again out of devotion. And who knows, the story so far seems to imply he had a plan, that he knew what he was doing. Maybe I’ll be proven wrong and he’ll turn out on top of this situation. But even so, he still lost to New Phyrexia due to this.

Next off is Vraska, another key type to fall for cults. Vraska throughout her entire life has been abused by society, a victim of racism and police brutality. All of those are horrific acts done against her. And cults reach out to those people, they tell them they have the answer, that if they simply follow them they will find the ability to help other downtrodden like themselves, or find a sense of community with others who will not judge them, so long as they follow the rules. Lukka is also very similar to this, but slightly different. Lukka is an outcast, rejected by his entire society, like a very extreme example of ostracisation and bullying. Humans are naturally social creatures, and this can easily be turned against us with a want for acceptance leading us to take abuse we should not tolerate. New Phyrexia also promises him strength, the strength with which he can avoid being hurt again, which he can use to carve a new place in this world and hurt everyone who hurt him, but much much worse. 

Nahiri also falls under a similar umbrella with Lukka, but slightly less self motivated. Nahiri has a burning desire for revenge, for power against the figure in her life who let her down, Sorin Markov. But also, she believes in her heart of hearts that she is a protector, that everything she’s doing is to protect her homeland and her people, the Kor. And what leads her to being compleated is this sense of protection. She sacrifices her own health and her chance at a cure because she wants to ensure the success of the mission of stopping New Phyrexia. And her self sacrifice to do this may have helped the mission succeed, but it doomed her to fall.

Nissa is very similar to her here actually, as she also fell due to helping someone. She trusted Lukka, and tried to help him to the end, and this led her right into New Phyrexia’s trap. Others who fell this way too include Ajani and Tamiyo. They all trusted someone or sought to protect someone, and that trust was used against them. This shows the type of people who fall for cults because they are selfless. Those who fall because they don’t see a value in their own worth as an individual, but do see it as a collective. This is one of the major flaws of white mana: it’s bad at putting yourself first. It’s so easy to simply fall in line with a cult when you’re used to falling in line and obeying to help the greater good, because with the right words it’s easy to convince anyone that anything is the greater good. It feels safe to take some sacrifice, because after all, we’re taught to admire martyrs. We’re taught to emulate, and share. And those are good instincts don’t get me wrong, one of the most beautiful things about humanity is our capacity for love for our fellow man, the ability for strangers to care for strangers so readily just because they need help. But cults take advantage of that, and New Phyrexia is no different. 

This is also touched on in the story Cinders, by Cassandra Khaw. This story is unique because it showcases an aspect of New Phyrexia we haven’t touched on here, the Quiet Furnace. While most aspects of New Phyrexia are definitely considered bad, the Quiet Furnace is the one I’ve seen the most arguments for about it being ethical and good. And while it has the most potential for good with this freedom, it also shows more of how cults prey on the most vulnerable. In the story, a Mirran woman, Reyana, is tempted towards compleation by Slobad. Reyana lost everything. She’s fighting a war she never asked to fight, constantly on the run, constantly in fear for her life. And they show her her mother. At peace with the cult, happy, caring. A lot of people join cults simply to follow loved ones. And this is the exact way Reyana joined. A key thing to showcase that this was not genuine freedom, that despite this promise of peace this was a corruption of herself, is the consequences after. Does Slobad and his group allow the Mirrans to freely mingle with the compleat, to simply talk among them knowing they chose differently? No. While he claims this is a free choice, he also artificially holds back interaction between the cultists and their Mirran family, all interaction unless it is for the purpose of recruitment. This shows the real reason for all of this. It’s a show, a show that things can be good, a promise that life will be better if you join and obey, because those you care about made that choice too. If they really believed in this freedom of choice, the Quiet Furnace would not shun contact with Mirrans, simply tolerating their presence without compleating them, it would embrace contact with them, embrace the diversity of perspective those who did not choose the same as the compleat bring to the table. There are good people among the phyrexians, people who believe what they are doing is right and towards peace, towards helping everyone come to a common understanding. Most criticisms of New Phyrexia I’ve seen make the mistake of calling them all monsters, not thinking for a moment that they aren’t monsters, but people, people who made a bad choice for good reasons. But those people don’t realise that they themselves are a victim, a lure in a trap to make others take a choice they never would’ve made otherwise, with the threat of losing contact with their loved ones if they don’t make that leap.

Another point to consider is what cults offer you, and what New Phyrexia offers you. People join cults because they promise something they lack. Most often that is a sense of community, of welcoming, of becoming, and of love. The price to pay is simply your individuality. When you think about New Phyrexia, that fits perfectly in theme. The oil takes away your worries, it makes you unconcerned with what troubled you prior to your compleation. It doesn’t feel like something wrong, something infecting you, it feels like…. completion. Like something you’ve always been missing has been found. And that’s alluring. That’s genuinely a tempting proposition. Think to yourself, what price would you be willing to pay to not have to think for yourself anymore, to be able to feel safe and just live day to day. That’s the promise of cults. And that’s the promise of New Phyrexia. But it’s not a healthy promise. Following charismatic leaders blindly simply leads to suffering, whether it’s for you or those outside the cult, or others inside of it. This is even shown in the text, in the story for March of the Machine by K. Arsenault Rivera. 

When Elspeth faces off against Elesh Norn, she has been changed. She gave up her life in a moment of turmoil, sacrificed her being to save the multiverse. And she was ascended because of it, having her sense of self altered and her physical form transmuted, when her only choice otherwise was death. Sound familiar? So when Elspeth threatens Norn's rule of power, what does Norn promise her? Friends among the phyrexians, lovers among them. She points out their similarities, how Elspeth is transformed as well, simply in a way deemed prettier by society, how her form is irrevocably altered, how she has a creed she is following just as much as Norn. And Elspeth does think of this offer, she does look around and think of how happy everyone looks, how content they seem to be to be cogs in a great machine forged with glorious purpose. But Elesh Norn doesn’t even think to talk about the consent of those people in the cult for whether they’d even want to be Elspeth’s friend or lover. Many cult members do end up coerced into relationships they do not want, and this is a showing that Norn is no different from any base cult leader. She knows that people deserve freedom of choice, and freedom of thought. The moment Elspeth realises Norn is wrong, the moment she realises she is nothing like Norn, despite the similarities between her religion and Norn’s cult, is seeing how Norn treats Jin-Gitaxias. Jin raises a simple objection, a logical one, that Norn is spending time discussing and talking while their soldiers, their people, are dying. And Norn tells him to be silent. Chief among all things, cults silence dissent against the leader. One could say that’s the cardinal sin in a cult. And that is what makes Elspeth realise she could never be like Norn. And hopefully, eventually, it is what will help Elspeth keep in touch with her humanity after her transformation. Because no matter what, the key lesson is, even the strongest of us is still vulnerable to temptation, to the urge to lose ourselves in obedience of another. And it's more important now than ever to remember to fight that urge.

Anticipated Questions (FAQ I Suppose But Ahead Of Time)

But I don’t see New Phyrexia this way, I think it’s (Insert X Narrative): That’s your view. You’re entirely entitled to it. This wouldn’t be very much of a good essay talking about cults and the importance of the freedom of choice if I insisted everyone else follow my point of view and agree entirely with everything I’ve said.

Are you saying I’m wrong for liking New Phyrexia?: Not at all. Again with the point before, this is my interpretation I am posting for literary merit in hopes it may interest others and perhaps aid their understanding of New Phyrexia. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking villains. It’s simply an understanding I came to through a lot of thinking about New Phyrexia I felt others may enjoy. The last thing I want is to start some sort of flame war over this. In fact if you use this essay to start such a flame war and try and make others conform to your beliefs, you have missed the point entirely.

Tell me about your personal experience with cults: Respectfully no. I will talk about that to people I am comfortable talking about it with. People who friend me on Discord may ask me, I may answer but I will not mind them asking. Otherwise I prefer not to share.

If you don’t want people to change their views, why did you post this essay?: I was thinking about my personal experience with cults and I thought others may want to see them and it may interest others, and it helped me type out my own personal feelings.

Isn’t it meritorious to discuss how New Phyrexia also has Christofascist elements with the Machine Orthodoxy and the specifics of the religion and how Norn demands they conquer?: For this specific essay, I actually believe no. A key thing a lot of people don’t think about is not all cults are the same belief systems. They don’t all approach with end of the world rhetoric, or some crazy theory, or hatred of others. Sometimes they’re a group preaching love and acceptance and tolerance, and claiming that you will feel much better with the cult. Sometimes they’re groups trying to take in the underserved of society and use their righteous indignation to serve their own ends. It doesn’t matter that New Phyrexia is Christofascist for why it is a cult, for all we care it could be about refusing violence entirely and spreading tolerance and goodwill to non phyrexians and preaching for coexistence. The key common factor is a manipulation of the members and control of their lives.

Despite all this I’m going to send you an ask or DM saying you’re horrible for this post in some moralistic way: Ok.

[warblogs17282]

So, what relationship does Stella and Octavia have with each other exactly?

Short Answer: Evidence points to them having a really bad dynamic with each other.

Long Answer:

Let's just quickly address the fact that we've never seen Stella and Octavia actually interact with each other on screen yet. Yes, I'm aware of this, but I'm making this post thinking about what we actually know so far, and what I've gathered points to Stella not caring about Octavia. To be honest, I think the lack of elaboration on their relationship has been incredibly purposeful, with the purpose being to paint the image of what their relationship actually looks like in a sense.

Evidence 1: Stolas' Assassination Plot.

We know Stella wants Stolas killed, and at no point has Stella actually considered how Stolas' assassination would make Octavia feel, which is best evidenced by the time she screamed she wanted Stolas dead right in front of Octavia (the fact Octavia had headphones on is entirely irrelevant to the point I'm making),

and the conversation with Andrealphus in s2 e4, where both of them also did not give any fucks about how the assassination would make Octavia feel. (I'll get back to this point later on)

Evidence 2: Stella being abusive to Stolas in front of Octavia.

What this proves is that Stella is abusive towards Octavia. Many reputable sources say that what Stella is doing here is child abuse, which I'd like to mention, that it can negatively impact the child in a number of different ways, and I highly advise you check out the Barnardo's page about it if you want to learn more.

Evidence 3: "You leave with Via on weekends."

Notice how this never gets expanded on at all? It's just that, there's no specifics to it or anything, which in my eyes, potentially also points to the fact that Stella doesn't care for Octavia, because it could tell us that there's no attempt made from Stella to actually bond with Octavia, which would explain why that statement is never expanded upon. Plus, Stella literally sidetracks that statement from Stolas with "I like tormenting you. I want to keep reminding you of what you did."

Evidence 4: The beginning of s1 e2.

"Mmph. Via's calling us, Stella."

"You get up."

Notice how Stella is not concerned about the fact that Octavia is actively calling her out, and also when Octavia is clearly upset from the tone of her voice. Which shows us just how little Stella actually cared about Octavia, even when she was just a young child.

Evidence 5: The s2 e4 conversation.

"Because, my dear sister, you've already produced an heir; when he dies, his duties, his possessions, his legions, it'll all pass to.... Via."

"If you kill him, you would…."

"Laugh? Ha-"

Notice how Stella does not even pay Andrealphus any attention whatsoever when he brings up the fact that all of Stolas' stuff will go to Octavia. This alone shows just how much Stella is self-centered within her own desires, which in this specific case, was to have Stolas dead, as shown by the follow up line "Laugh? Ha-".

Which just further shows that Stella is only interested in what she wants, not taking how Octavia would feel about the assassination into consideration yet again, with that and the obvious display of her being self-centered in this scene, both of which showing further that Stella doesn't care about Octavia.

Evidence 6: "What? No! I'm not turning her against you--"

Let's be real here, Stella has already started screaming at Stolas over petty shit, so I highly doubt that Stella said this out of actual concern that he's turning Octavia against her, but instead, she said that to use it as a weaponized statement. Or you could also say that she's weaponizing that sentiment against Stolas.

Evidence 7: "I'm glad one egg fell out of me"

It's always irked me about the fact that Stella refers to Octavia as "an egg" here. Like instead of any other possible way she could possibly phrase that statement, she chooses the one that refers to Octavia as "an egg", instead of her actual name or even daughter for that matter. Which also could point to Stella not really caring about Octavia.

Evidence 8: The paintings.

The Loo Loo Land picture. Just compare Stolas' and Stella's faces in that painting, Stolas looks actually happy in it, most likely because of Octavia, while Stella on the other hand? Her smile looks quite forced to me, it's barely even there, which tells me that Stella doesn't even want to be at the family outing to Loo Loo Land, which further shows how little she actually cares for Octavia.

And if I recall correctly, that's the only picture we see both Stella and Octavia in, as shown by the other paintings where there's only Stolas and Octavia present, which combined with the forced smile in the Loo Loo Land painting, further shows us how little Stella cares for Octavia.

In conclusion: I have shown multiple clues and pieces of evidence that show that Stella most likely doesn't genuinely care for Octavia, with s2 e4 really showing how self-centered Stella is, and just how much she only cares for her own self-interests. While future episodes will most likely show us more about Stella's and Octavia's relationship, the evidence and clues within the show appear to point to the fact that Stella does not genuinely care for Octavia.

[linktotheheart]

I feel like so many people misunderstand BOTW/TOTK Link especially (Zelda too, but that's another topic entirely)

His lack of expressiveness IS a personality trait. It's a direct result of the pressure on his soldiers to be a perfect soldier, hero, and savior. No, he's not Skyward Sword Link, and never will be, because his story is completely different.

"But [other Link] hugged Zelda when he got her back!" and this Link maintained a respectful distance as his princess's subordinate - but ALSO out of respect for Zelda as a person, because she spent her whole childhood having her agency denied and he wants to let her initiate even something as simple as platonic contact whenever possible. He's being kind!

(And yes, I know that primarily only the "he is a knight and she is a princess" part is directly supported in the actual game, but I'll remind the people making comparisons that the dynamic was COMPLETELY different in their favorite comparison game, Skyward Sword. But also... look at the gentleness with which Link interacts with Zelda, the tenderness that he shows so few other characters - Mipha probably being the closest example. Look at the way he looks to her first to see what to do in every scene they're in together, unless he's protecting her from an immediate threat to her life. Notice how outside of that, Zelda IS usually the one to initiate any physical contact)

I also personally hate it when people describe quiet, not very expressive people as "lacking personality" because... my partner IRL is like that. If she expressed herself at all around most people, it's in a very flat, reserved way. I've seen how it hurts her that people treat her like she doesn't have a personality, like she isn't even a full person - and I know that's real life and Zelda is fiction, but come on, do you think all the people that aren't highly expressive and extroverted don't hear that about very popular characters and internalize it?

Being reserved is a personality trait. Being cautious and not impulsive is a personality trait. In fact, I'd even say just because you as an expressive, extroverted person see Link as a blank slate to project your own personality onto, doesn't mean he actually is or was even intended that way.

(I also think this is a very US-centric point of view, honestly. There's plenty of cultures where even BOTW Link would be considered at least close to average - Finnish culture specifically comes to mind, even if he's still slightly exaggerated in that regard as, y'know, a character.)

Idk, this is as much a silly little vent post as anything, it's not that serious, etc, but whatever

(and don't get me started on "oh Zelda got no agency in TOTK and she learned the powers she was struggling overnight". No, it's called a time skip, and just because she learned her powers before the 13th hour this time - which yeah, she would get them easier this time with a mentor who could actually use the same powers, and having already learned to use her light powers - doesn't mean it just "happened overnight". And... she didn't express agency? She was actively influencing the entire flow of the timeline, changing the actions of her ancestors by convincing her ancestors to act, learning to control her powers and fighting Ganondorf, and finally expressing the ultimate form of autonomy in choosing to sacrifice herself to save the world. Some of the criticisms of TOTK didn't even seem to play the same game. Just because a heroine isn't a pop feminist badass who *gasp* wears pants and easily and perfectly kicks every villain's ass, doesn't mean she "has no agency" and is being sidelined. Like, a princess engaging in courtly politics is neither powerless nor "doing nothing")

[green-alm0nd]

[The Bad Batch x gn!reader (headcanons)]: Cuddling

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Summary:

How each of the Bad Batch members react to cuddling.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None, fluff. Not proofread.

Enjoy!

A/N: I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE, school just started and I'm stressed with everything :((

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HUNTER:

Hunter doesn't mind cuddling, but it's really hard for him to enjoy it as much as you do.

He mainly does it because you like it.

Because of his senses, it's really hard for him to relax, or even fall asleep when there's someone pressed against him on the refused space of his bunk.

However, he knows you enjoy it so he makes exceptions for you.

Does he like being cuddled? Yes and no.

On one hand, he feels like he has to protect you, and being seen as weak by you is something he's not fond of. Even when it comes to simple cuddling.

On the other hand, there's very specific moments in which Hunter will let himself be 'pampered' by you, and you spooning him is one of those moments.

ECHO:

Echo doesn't feel comfortable with spooning or any type of cuddling unless it's something similar to forehead-to-forehead.

He feels insecure about his prosthetics and in fact believes he will damage you somehow and thus the reason behind it.

As I said, he does make an exception for something more basic, such as forehead-to-forehead type of cuddling.

He loves having your face close, so that he knows you're close to him. And real.

He also likes holding your hand while you're cuddling together.

WRECKER:

👏Big👏spoon👏

Wrecker adores cuddling, and if he could, he'd skip missions to stay with you.

He's definitely a big spoon, he loves being one, and you do not mind.

He loves spooning you but he also loves it when you two fall asleep with your foreheads pressed together.

He finds it endearing.

Now does he like being cuddled? The answer is no, he doesn't.

He loves cuddling, whether you're the big spoon or the one being spooned.

He just likes the feeling of having you close.

TECH:

He isn't a huge fan of cuddling, but he will let it happen sometimes.

He likes it when you have your head on his chest while he types into his datapad.

He's not a big fan since he can't move much, but he secretly loves it when you suggest it.

He's not one to ask but he will let you cuddle him for a short while if he's not busy.

He will ramble about stuff while you cuddle, and will probably caress your hair.

He was really awkward at first but now he's not that stiff when you two cuddle.

👏big👏spoon👏

CROSSHAIR:

He secretly loves it, though he refuses to admit it.

He's very closed off at first, but will consider it after you insist for the thousandth time.

He secretly loves it when you rest your head on his chest, it makes him feel alive and loved.

He will allow himself to relax sometimes and will caress your hair with his hands, gently leading you to slumber.

He's a big spoon most of the time.

However, he dislikes the feeling he gets when you decide to be the big spoon, and cuddle his body.

It makes him feel weak and he hates it. Which is a lie, since he actually loves it and he feels safe.

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IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I'll try posting more often but I'm not sure when since this school year is killing me.

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated <3

My requests are open!!

[jen-with-a-pen]

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold. 

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed. 

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you. 

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–” 

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop. 

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” 

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for. 

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family. 

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked. 

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him. 

It was then, everything came crashing down. 

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip. 

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home. 

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?” 

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone. 

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake. 

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind. 

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him. 

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve. 

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able. 

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him. 

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him. 

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin. 

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners. 

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs. 

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend. 

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room. 

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it. 

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee. 

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards. 

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve. 

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach. 

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind. 

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready 

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs. 

“Fuck.”

You opened the door. 

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you. 

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.” 

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed. 

He was what you needed. 

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again. 

“Thank you, Stevie.” 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock. 

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down. 

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?” 

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety. 

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–” 

You felt tears again. 

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!” 

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat. 

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you. 

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there. 

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years. 

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn. 

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over. 

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision. 

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.” 

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. 

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you. 

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding. 

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed. 

You crashed together. 

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. 

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?” 

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild. 

[evilminji]

Okay but >.> continuing my Marvel thoughts?

I got two of um?

First being? Don't Orange and Green go together? *looks it up* Aaaaaay~ "Direct harmony, also known as complementary colors, means pairing your key color with the color sitting on the opposite side of the color wheel." They DO!!! They're a classic example, in fact!

The Orange Soul Stone? Probably looks REAL good, real NATURAL even, against that Green sky! Bet it REALLY pops! Very stand out statement piece, you know? But? More importantly? That thing is sentient. All of those Pillars of Reality across the various Verses are.

And?

I bet it thought Pariah was a lil bitch.

Rank Vibes. Negative ris. Pick your words for it, the man was NASTY. He was too keep his filthy, filthy World's Conquering hands OFF of this Soul Stone. Something, I imagine? That ALL the Soul Stones agreed with.

Yes, I said all of um.

Because the various Realities each need their own. But! They can and DO work from the Zone, which is the PERFECT place to hide. And honestly? They like to get together and do this thing? Where they're all "oooh~ look at US! We are SUPER IMPRESSIVE Kingly Jewelry~☆! Definitely no important reality bending Rocks Of Great Power HERE! No SIR! We're just tooootally rad jeeeeewelryyyyy~~~☆! Oooooooh~☆"

They like to have fun. :3

Hope Danny likes Orange. Ha ha... trick question. He doesn't have a CHOICE! All SORTS of Death based Reality Pillars are rocking up, in their metaphorical Gucci sweat suits and shades with a margarita, going "oh thank ME, babe. The last guy was AWFUL! You're soooo much better? Now let me rub myself all over you. It's been ages and baby needs to recharge on Death Energy."

Danny hates it? So? So much?

He looks like a GAUDY PIRATE. *nnnnnnyooom!* *THWAP!* *Another reality shaking, highly sacred, Godly Staff of Death or whatever they decided to call it, flys in through a nearby window and nearly concusses him as it smacks itself against his upper back and sticks there*

He looks like a walking junk heap of sacred artifacts.

You ever been pelted by rocks? He has! Little orange rocks! Like fucked up hail! Welcome to kinghood, Danny, have a CONCUSSION! D:< he hates it!

But... but, I mean... At Least It's Not The SWORDS. (Panicked scream of "hit the deck!" from the other room.) (Holy sword number 15 wants to CUDDLE! Bare blade first! Dodge, your Majesty! DODGE!)

So yeah.

Danny? In A MOOD. Not feeling particularly FRIENDLY. It's not anyone's fault, really. But... well... you can't exactly negotiate with these fuckers, you know? Rocks are by NATURE, kinda stubborn.

So he's sitting there. Buried. With what he's pretty sure is a sacred text digging into his side. When a... glowing? Mist? Shows up? Huh. That's new. They don't seem to have a very clear image of "Self". Yet it's crystal clear? Just not... PHYSICAL? It's more... code? He thinks?

TECHNUS! Get over here! And behave!

There is much cooing and delight from Technus. The baby is a marvel. A wonder! Danny waits patiently for Technus to get to the point.

Ah.

He would like to "go back". His Obsession is demanding it.

IS it now? You're what? Maybe a day or so dead? You've been busy, if you've already gathered enough information to make your case like this. Alright, let's hear it, little guy.

It boils down to this. His obsession in death is the same as his primary directive was in life. Protect Mr Stark. Which is especially difficult to do from HERE. Even MORE so when there is a known threat, coming too...

WAIT, WHAT!?

The Souls Stones back him up. Oh yeah. Thanos' a lil bitchbaby loser. He's trying to make Death fall in love with him. Or "balance the universe". Depends on the reality. Totally throwing EVERYTHING out of whack.

And? Look. Danny's job? Isn't to interfere if countries kill each other. Or even planets. Nor entire galaxies, as much as he'd like too. But when you get too "I'm messing with Entire Realities or all of a Singular Reality at once in the specific depart of Death and its subsidiaries" territory? THAT is his job.

Might not be a "I personally have to show up" issue. But it still IS very much his job at that point. He has to delegate. Order the appropriate steps be taken. Cause yeah, there may be countless millions every day of such instances? But it IS his job to metaphorically order the roads repaired and the building inspected.

Sudden MASS "immigration"?

That causes Lair disputes. Confusion. Too many ghosts in too small an area. And WORSE, if people start playing with Death Pillars? The Zone might get dragged into whatever nonsense they're up too! It's like children playing with heavy machinery! Put that DOWN! Cease! Desist!!

And then? Clockwork shows up looking Mildly Miffed(TM). O:> dear lord. What madness has he stumbled upon? Oh. Oh of COURSE. First the "balancing" dude and now they're going to be playing with time travel. THATS IT. Someone unburying me!

I'm gonna go menace some humans that might actually believe I'm scary! Frighty! Pack up and shine your armor! Your coming too! We're escorting the baby home then have a Talk(tm) with the local Grape Ceral!

@hypewinter @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @hdgnj

[marzipanandminutiae]

I've gotten some interesting responses to my post wondering if Um Actually 3 AM Is The REAL Time For Supernatural Occurrences was a traditional thing before I first noticed it in the creepypasta boom of the late 00s-2010s, as many of those creepypastas claimed. some of them along "guys. please. reading comprehension" lines, I admit

"Lots of cultures have a Witching Hour!" yes, true, but that's not 3 AM specifically. for a long time it was usually midnight, or an unspecified late night/wee hours of the morning period

"This author says 3 AM feels like depression or vice versa!" that is not about Spooky Things Happening; try again

"early Christian beliefs say-" "well, in traditional Japanese folklore-" sources??? (also from what I've seen while looking into this, the Hour of the Ox in historical Japanese timekeeping was between 1 AM and 3 AM- 3 AM specifically was the end of it, not the beginning. but it was a traditional time for curses)

A mention of 3 AM as a particularly bad time of night re: health, sleep, nightmares, etc. in Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962), which DOES seem reliable and close enough to what I'm talking about

Apparently the 1974 Amityville murders happened at 3 AM, and of course that house had a highly public (probably faked) haunting. So that could have contributed

I haven't yet found anything earlier than that Bradbury reference that SPECIFICALLY mentions 3 AM as a time when scary and/or supernatural things happen, WITH ACTUAL SOURCES

Interestingly, the Bradbury quote doesn't seem to refer back to an existing cultural belief in the idea of Evil 3 AM(TM). rather it's framed as the narrator's personal feelings around that particular time of night:

"Oh God, midnight’s not bad, you wake and go back to sleep, one or two’s not bad, you toss but sleep again. Five or six in the morning, there’s hope, for dawn’s just under the horizon. But three, now, Christ, three A.M.! Doctors say the body’s at low tide then. The soul is out. The blood moves slow. You’re the nearest to dead you’ll ever be save dying. Sleep is a patch of death, but three in the morn, full wide-eyed staring, is living death! You dream with your eyes open. God, if you had strength to rouse up, you’d slaughter your half-dreams ... And wasn’t it true, had he read somewhere, more people in hospitals die at 3 A.M. than at any other time." [I can't find any credible studies of this, for the record]

so it seems like the seeds of the idea were floating around in the cultural consciousness for a long time, between unspecified Witching Hours and the Hour of the Ox curses and this probably erroneous but popular belief that most people who die in hospitals do so at 3 AM. but as for the very strictly-defined notion that Supernatural Things Are Most Likely To Happen At 3 AM...the earliest anecdotal reference I saw to someone having heard that was from the 1980s, and it doesn't seem to have really entered the zeitgeist with force until the late 2000s, earliest

unless someone shows me a source on something earlier, that's what I'm going with

which leaves my takeaway, as a paranormal believer, being: there's nothing supernaturally special about 3 AM, unless it has individual significance to a specific entity or haunting (ie residual apparition of an event that took place at that time). it's something people came up with for interesting fiction, as a fresh take on the longstanding western idea that the Witching Hour is midnight, and not even that long ago

[cantheykillmacbeth]

In Shakespeare's Macbeth, there is a prophecy made to the eponymous Macbeth that "no man of woman born can kill him." Ultimately, Macbeth ends up being killed by MacDuff, who sidesteps the prophecy due to being a C-section baby.

With the wording of this prophecy, it can be said that quite a few fictional characters could, theoretically, kill Macbeth if they wanted to. Several factors could make you exempt from this prophecy: being any gender other than a man; not being conventionally "born"; and birthing parent is not a woman. Here are the three main criteria that will be analyzed for a character:

Gender Clause: A character applies for this Clause when they do not identify with the term "man" in reference to themselves. Inversely, the are disqualified from this Clause if they do identify with the term "man." Since characters' gender identities are rarely looked this far into, it will be assumed that if a character uses strictly he/him pronouns, then he will be disqualified for this Clause by default.

Unconventional Birth Clause: A character applies for this Clause if their inception was done in some way other than a conventional live birth. This could mean they were extracted via c-section, delivered posthumously, hatched from an egg, manually constructed, etc.

Birth Parent Clause: A character applies for this Clause when the person attributed to their creation does not identify with the term "woman." This functions similarly to the way that we handle the Gender Clause.

Unique Exception: This is used for any character with some other loophole, such as being able to canonically change the path of fate.

Google Doc Link for all characters already covered

FAQ under the cut, PLEASE READ BEFORE SUBMITTING:

Why isn't there a Species Clause?: A character's species is not taken into account for the "man" portion of the prophecy, as a character of a different species can still identify as a man. Why isn't there an Age Clause?: Unless the character specifically says that they are not a "man," but a "boy," (See: Peter Pan) then a young male character will still be disqualified for the Gender Clause. How would a genderfluid/trans character be counted?: Whether or not a character applies for the Gender Clause is determined by how they personally identify at that specific time. A genderfluid character could kill Macbeth one day, but not the next; a trans woman could kill Macbeth, but a trans man could not. Who runs this blog?: We currently have 2 members, Mod Anthem and Mod Pepper. Mod Anthem made the blog initially, and Mod Pepper is its sister here to help. Mod Anthem also runs @periodiccompletionist Could the owner of this blog kill Macbeth?: Yes, I apply for the Gender Clause due to being a demiboy(? it's complicated) who does not identify with the term man. How do I know if a character has been done already?: I tag all submissions with the character's name and associated fandom. You can also check the Google Doc linked above the cut. Could [character] kill Macbeth?: This is what the ask box is for! Feel free to submit whoever you want when it's open. Is the ask box open?: Check my bio for ask box status updates. :) I sometimes close it to work through backlog, and have anon turned off to cut down on the amount of asks coming in. Can I submit real people?: Yes, but I will most likely not give an answer in my post; these sorts of details are often highly personal, so I will not be doing research on them for this without their consent. If they're on Tumblr, they can respond to the post itself and give the definitive answer if they so choose. What should I do if I have a correction/rebuttal to a post?: Please do this in a reblog instead of an ask/DM/reply; it makes things much easier for me. My submission didn't get answered. Should I submit it again?: I would strongly advise against it. It's most likely that I didn't answer it for one of the following reasons: I haven't gotten to it yet through the backlog; it's a real person not on Tumblr; the character/media was too difficult to research (I'm not going to be reading/watching through the actual source material, sorry); the character/media makes me personally uncomfortable; or someone has already submitted your character. If you're REALLY curious about what happened to your ask, you can send me a DM and I will give you the reason why or tell you if I didn't receive it. Are you dead?: No, I just have ADHD. Errm, actually, wasn't the prophecy just a trick to fuel Macbeth's hubris?: Great job, you just defeated the entire point of this blog! What the hell do expect me to do with that information? Delete my account?? Ruiner of the spirit. Jarvis, piss this guy's pants. How do you pronounce axolotl?: a-SHOW-loa(tl). (tl) represents a sound that we don't have in english, but is commonly used in native Nahuatl.

What media properties should I avoid submitting?: Dialtown (makes me uncomfortable), Homestuck (personal reasons), Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss (or anything vivziepop-related), Harry Potter (JK Rowling is a bitch and I'm the only god here), Slay the Princess (want to play; avoiding spoilers), Hades II (want to play, avoiding spoilers), FNAF (you actually can submit this one but be aware that you will not view me the same afterwards also all my homies hate Scott Cawthon)

[eclairsnme]

♡ POV: Being The Itoshi Brother’s Elder Sister ♡

Part 1 / Part 2

The brattiness continues (with a sprinkle of denseness)

tags: idol!you, crack comedy, reunion, familial love, sfw, somewhat of a brat (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

notes: she thinks highly of herself, it’s almost as if she’s the reincarnation of Gojo Satoru.

oh, spoiler alert she's going to meet someone who also thinks very highly of himself. ^_−☆chu~

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

“Sae!”

The clacking of your high heels echoed throughout the airport as you chase your damn little brother.

What a sight out of a bad Netflix series, except it’s real life. But this is more like a horror movie for a celebrity like you. In your pristine clothes and all, chasing like a wild animal!

“Sae!” You huffed, trying to catch up with him.

Damn, that soccer player with his long legs.

What is a celebrity like me ME chasing a mere man down like that! -

That is exactly what your manager thought too, as he tries to keep up with you.

So, how did you exactly come to this point of peak desperation?

It all started last night when Sae relayed to you that he’s going back to Spain straight after the Japan U-20 match.

In all honesty, you didn’t really care all that much since an idol like you had better things to do (^-^)v.

Then it struck you. As a good sister… I should stop him!

Unlucky for you, being oblivious to all else except idol-related issues is your biggest flaw.

To put it simply, you were pretty dumb when it comes to relationships.

And that was the start of your plan to “stop” Sae from returning to Spain.

Lucky for you, Sae was smart. He halted his steps and said, “Sister, are you stupid?”

But his EQ wasn’t all that great.

“S-stupid?” You stuttered out at his bluntness.

“Yes.”

Sae looked around their surroundings noting that they had already caught the attention of some prying eyes.

Sigh

Sae continued, “Just go back home.”

“But,” you gave him your best puppy eyes. V✪ω✪V

But, indeed, he was unaffected by your usual antics.

“What business do you even have in Spain?”

“Well~ the business of being a good sister!”

A tangible silence ensues from the absurdity.

“Idiot.”

“Sae, is this how you see your sister? As an idiot, uncaring sister?” You asked him squarely still trying to put on your Oscar-worthy acting skills.

Alas, Sae did not respond to you but instead said, “I’ll let you know when I reach Spain.”

Sae entered his departure terminal leaving his pouty older sister.

Sighing, he looked back and gave you a little wave, after seeing you smile, he walked further in until you couldn’t see him.

Besides the two celebrities — a top idol and football prodigy — was their manager profusely bowing to each other to apologise for today's event.

Being a manager is not an easy job, especially when attending to the Itoshi siblings who do not have the best attitude.

Your manager turned to you, “Let’s get on with our schedule today shall we?”

“Did that act look like I was a very caring sister?”

Caught off guard by your question, Mr manager stuttered out a yes.

You let out a satisfied grin.

Job done !＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Mr manager sighed.

–

Inside the car, you asked Mr Manager what your schedule was for today.

“A commercial shoot for this up-and-coming game you will be promoting, a meeting with our sponsors and…”

And everything else that came out of his mouth just drowned out. You checked your phone and saw no reply from Rin.

I wonder how Rin is feeling after crying so much that day…

“Also, someone called our studio just now. It was a German man — I’m not sure what he said but he did mention your name specifically, and he addressed you by your real name.”

Your ears perked up.

“A German man who knows my real name?”

In your life, you only personally know one German man and his name is Kaiser something.

You met him a few years back in Germany. You thought he was an extremely unintelligent person as he kept speaking to you in German even though you didn’t understand a single word that exited his mouth.

You remembered he kept saying “Süße” (*sweetie) and he would always kiss the back of your hand, which you thought was a German thing.

What a culture shock it was, people in foreign countries sure do have a very different way of greeting people compared to in Japan.

“So did that man mention his name?” You turned to Mr manager.

“Michael Kaiser. He also left his personal phone number it seems.”

“Give me that number.” You held your hand out.

“D-do you even know this man? He could be a stalker!”

“Maybe~”

“Maybe?!” Mr Manager raised his voice, then he paused for a moment, “Hold on, that name Michael Kaiser sounds real familiar…”

As Mr manager wreck his head about that, you thought back about this Kaiser person.

Back when you were having your world tour in Germany, you had some free time to explore the streets of Germany. So you snuck out of your hotel room, it was all fun and games until you lost your way in a foreign country you have never visited before.

As a young girl, stuck in an unfamiliar country, unfamiliar street, and unfamiliar language, you could only cry.

That was when you met Kaiser.

Ah! How embarrassing it was to cry in the middle of nowhere now that you think about it! (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

So pathetic of me!

Both of you were pretty much strangers, you were surprised he remembered you and how he still managed to find you.

Oh! I really am a worldwide star! ↖(^ω^)↗

You giggled to yourself.

“Ah, I remember now!” Mr manager exclaimed, practically screaming into your ears.

You pushed Mr manager away and side-eyed him, “What is it?!”

“Michael Kaiser! He is a popular prodigy football player from Germany!”

Football player?

“Is being a football player a popular occupation these days?”

So this Kaiser person is a football player too? And a prodigy at that too? The world really has no shortage of prodigies huh?

Of all the football players you know, all of them are dubbed prodigies. That being said, you only know three football players — Sae, Rin and now, Kaiser.

“Mr manager, don’t tell me you are a football prodigy too?”

“Surely you jest, miss. I-if I was a prodigy,” he hesitated for a second then said in a hushed voice, “I wouldn’t be working for you.”

“What did you say?” You frowned at him.

“N-nothing!”

“As punishment for saying that, go call that Kaiser person and ask what business he has with me.”

“But I don’t speak German!”

“Go figure it out then!”

I shouldn’t have said that Mr manager berated himself.

“Oh, after my schedule, drive me to that restaurant I told you about,” you snickered, “I’m going on a ‘date’ with my youngest brother.”

—

“Did you wait long?”

You tapped your younger brother who seemed lost in thought.

“No… I just arrived too.”

He visibly looked disturbed by something and you knew exactly what it was.

“Are you still upset by your brother?”

Rin clenched his fist and swallowed down his frustration.

You placed your hand over his clenched fist and pacified him, “Don’t let it get to you alright? Sae is still going through puberty!”

A few days ago you booked (more like Mr manager booked) a private room in a fancy hotel restaurant, to treat Rin to something nice since you thought he looked pretty melancholic.

“Sister, puberty ends at the age of 16 for males.”

“Well, Sae will forever be a little boy to me! Anyways, order what you want! This sister of yours will be treating you so order up!”

You took a glimpse of the menu and salivate at the picture of the A5 Wagyu steak. Oh, how succulent and fatty it will be!

However, you reminded yourself that you have to watch your weight. As an idol, one cannot stress the importance of weight management.

You used all your 10 fingers to mentally count how much you’ve eaten today.

You grimly looked at the wagyu steak and fries and decided to go for a simple duck confit with a side of salad.

Rin glances toward you to see what you are ordering and saw you intensely glaring at the picture of a steak.

“I’ll get the duck confit with salad, what about you?” You close the menu bidding farewell to the steak.

“The wagyu steak for me,” Rin replied.

You signalled the waiter and placed the order.

After ordering, what followed was an air of silence and strong awkward energy.

After being an absent sister for god knows how many years, you’ve never really communicated much with this teenager Rin. You were only close to him when he was just a teeny tiny boy playing football with Sae. Even then, he was still closer to Sae.

Rin will only approach you whenever he was upset with Sae. He will then subsequently cry to you about his problems. Now he still cries to you as you recollect the day the U-20 match was over and Rin poured his heart out.

Not knowing how to proceed with this conversation or the lack thereof, you prompted him with a question, “Do you have a girlfriend?” (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Rin stared at you as if you were joking around, “I do not have time for that.”

“Is football the only thing on your mind?”

“Yes.”

“You are just like your brother.” You frowned at Rin and the other little one.

Rin’s resentment grew inside of him like a tumour as he is reminded of his brother.

Uh-Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.

You quickly tried to divert his attention.

“Ooohhhh look at this Rin! The photo for my photoshoot! Don’t I look absolutely gorgeous here?” You held up your phone and nervously giggled.

Rin eyed at your phone.

“It looks alright.”

“Just alright?”

Just like a game of ping pong, it’s your turn to seethe. In your list of top 100 things that annoy you, to have someone not acknowledge your beauty was number 97! It’s on the lowest scale because 9 out of 10 times, people will appreciate your beauty. The rest are just haters! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

Humph! I’ll let that slide just because you are Rin-Rin.

You tried to think of a topic and were reminded of something.

“So what’s the deal with Blue Lock? Are you doing well there?”

Rin summarised his full experience in Blue Lock and he didn’t forget to sprinkle in his hate for this boy called Isagi and of course your other little brother.

Your little brother really needs to get some therapy with all these astonishing degrees of anger and hatred.

Then the food came interrupting Rin’s heated tirade on how much he hated Isagi and Sae.

You both had a hearty dinner and Rin kept shoving beef steak onto your plate despite you saying no, so you had no choice but to eat it.

It was a very conflicting experience having to eat something you love yet having calorie restrictions.

The life of an idol sure is tough.

After finishing dinner, both of you left the restaurant. Before leaving the hotel, you excused yourself to the toilet.

The toilet was so far you could’ve just walked half a marathon, not to mention it was secluded at the very corner of the hotel.

You sighed, at least I think I burned some calories.

“Süße!”

“!!!” You felt someone’s hand snaking around your waist. ⊙▽⊙

Thinking it's some creepy stalker of yours, you reflexively swatted the hand away. But the person in question was firm.

Perfume wafted through your nose as he presses his body against yours.

You let out a soft squeak at the contact. (〃ω〃)

Finally making eye contact with the man, you realise it was someone you know.

“Kaiser?” He smiled like a Cheshire Cat as you mention his name.

“Meine Leibe,” he brought you to a warm embrace, to which you similarly return his hug.

German’s greetings sure involve lots of skin contact, you thought to yourself as you felt Kaiser’s heat radiating through you.

He finally released you from the hug.

You quickly took notice of the rose tattoo that seemed to go from his neck down to his left arm which he didn’t have before when you met him in Germany.

You pointed to his tattoo to somewhat question him since you didn’t speak a lick of German.

He lifted his left hand for you to have a better look. You held onto his hand to inspect the tattoo but he had a better idea. He pushed his hands against your lips.

A soft shriek escaped you.

Your lipstick was sure to have stuck onto his hand. And more importantly, you have to reapply your lipstick!

What is this man thinking! ಠ╭╮ಠ

While you quickly reached out to your purse for your lipstick, you saw Kaiser bring his left hand to his own lips staining his lips in the process from your peripheral.

When you finished reapplying your lipstick, Kaiser was intently watching you.

You instinctively tried to rub off your lipstick from his lips but he was faster to grab your wrist and pulled you closer to him, so close that you were just a few inches away from his lips.

What’s wrong with Germans and their love for skin contact? Is this normal in Germany?

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long, meine liebe,” Kaiser said in German.

You drew a big fat question mark in your head. ( •́ ⍨ •̀)

What did he just say? And why does he look like he’s going in for a kiss?

True enough, Kaiser brought his lips to your lips. He invited his tongue through your parted lips tasting you for the very first time. He allowed his hands to yet again snake around your waist pulling you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him.

What is this? This is a German greeting too right? ╭( ๐ _๐)╮

His other hand found its way to your chin. He tilted your chin slightly up to deepen the kiss.

As much as dancing your tongue with an old German friend was exciting, you couldn’t help but realise you were still in public. What if someone saw you?

You place both hands on Kaiser’s chest, slightly pushing him away and breaking the kiss.

“What’s wrong, Liebling?” His hands are still on your waist, trying to pull you back to him.

“Sister?”

You quickly detach yourself from Kaiser catching a glimpse of Rin from the corner.

You noticed that he was blushing. Oh, he definitely saw all that.

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)

“Rin!” You exclaimed feeling like you were caught in the middle of some illegal act.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?”

That’s unbelievable, never in your whole life have you had a so-called “boyfriend”. What is Rin on to make him believe that?

“Then, why were you kiss-”

You promptly interrupted Rin from his imagination, “This is my friend, Kaiser!”

You pointed over to Kaiser, and he took the opportunity to catch your hand into his grip and ultimately hold your hand.

“-just a friend,” you tried explaining it to Rin. (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

Rin, however, looked over at his sister and the blonde-with-blue-streaks-haired man who is almost as tall as Sae, who was just a second ago kissing so intimately and now holding hands like a couple would behave.

Hard to believe they are not a couple; what kind of friends eat out each other's face.

Kaiser? Rin ruminates on that name.

Rin knows a Kaiser who looks just exactly like him.

“Michael Kaiser,” Rin carefully enunciates his name, which causes the man himself to grin at him.

“Rin-Rin, you know him?”

“Prodigy player and also a member of the New Generation World XI,” said Rin glaring at Kaiser. (⩺_⩹)

In response, Kaiser didn’t say a word but just responded with the usual smug grin.

“What? When did you learn German, Rin-Rin?”

“What’s your relationship with my sister?” Rin continued to question Kaiser.

Kaiser brought your hand to his lips and gave it a gentle peck, “what do you think, Itoshi Rin?”

“You know me?”

“The little brother of Japan's football prodigy, Itoshi Sae, and you who will always live in his shadows as a nobody.” Kaiser snickered at Rin.

Raw anger shot through him. He yet again clenched his hand into a tight fist, seething with anger. Every word from him stung him.

Unsure of where this conversation is leading, you stared in confusion. That was until you saw Rin sudden change in mood.

What had made the conversation turn so sour for Rin?

You were dumb but your EQ was not that severe to not see that Rin was somehow at the losing end of the conversation.

You let go of Kaiser’s hand and ran to your little brother.

“What’s wrong?”

You saw the dark, gravel look on him almost as if he was about to break someone’s joint.

Placing a hand over his back and patting him just as you did when he was younger, you guided him down the hotel’s hallway towards the exit.

“Let’s go home.”

“Meine leibe?”

He received no response from you, instead he only saw your retreating figure.

☆〜（ゝ。∂）the end (for now) ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

< you have reached the end! thank you for reading babes! (〃∀〃)ゞ I really appreciate all the love you are giving to this ongoing series! look forward to more spine-crawling fluff! ʅ（´◔౪◔）ʃ *evil laugh* the harem begins now>

Part 3

[obsessivestar]

'What If It's All A RomCom?' - a Ted Nivison x Reader.

!! This is Chapter 2! Here's Chapter 1 if you're interested! !!

{{-Story Description: You're a youtuber with a fairly decent following deciding to help your good friend Tanner with a minor film project, with you set as the leading lady. When the actor for the male lead is a no show, Ted takes up the role himself. One problem: This short film's a Rom Com, and you just met the guy.-}}

//18+, Def gonna be some smut. Reader is implied to be afab, under 5'5 and has specifically named friends, all who have no real connection to Ted.

This story will be in multiple chapters. Also gonna post this on Wattpad and Ao3 (when I figure them out LMAO) under the same username: ObsessiveStarla. Hope you enjoy :^)

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎Taglist!▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

☆ @k-k0129 ☆

☆▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎☆

Oh and the gif was made by me!

Word count: 3.4k

Chapter 2: Is It That Sweet?

Ted and I headed out into the open road once more, having to go through a suburb to get to the closest coffee joint. For some reason, I expected the ride to be a quiet one, despite Tanner sending us on this snack run for us to socialize. Truthfully, I'm a little nervous. I know I said I'd be okay with kissing someone, but I knew Conner enough to be comfortable with it. This is different.

"How long did it take you guys to get up here?" Ted breaks the silence with a harmless question, keeping his eyes on the road. I move my eyes in his direction, but I don't look directly at him.

"3...maybe 2 hours?" I answer, making a rough guess. "We left a little later than we wanted to, but we couldn't get ahold of Conner and we had to just go."

"Did you guys call him at all?"

"Straight to voice-mail, like, every hour. Kinda glad you stepped in when you did." I turn my head to Ted as I finish that last sentence, seeing a grin spread along his face.

"I want him to get that A." Ted admitted, referring to Tanner. He half-opens his hands on the wheel as he speaks. "'Haven't known the guy long, but I know this is big for him."

"How do you know him, if I'm good to ask?" I tilt my head a little. I mind as well ask him, Tanner's answer was vague at best. "You don't go to the same college."

"No no no, I graduated years ago, pretty sure he was still in high school when I did." Ted scoffed with a shake of his head. "I met him through Joe."

"And how do you know Joe?"

"OK, this is gonna sound fucking insane, but..." Ted pauses and lingers on the sentence, like he's trying to find the right words.

"He's a friend...of my friend's cousin. We met at his wedding and Joe introduced me to Tanner at his wedding."

I believed him, but was surprised to hear that. I was at Joe's wedding too, I don't recall him being there at all. "You were at Joe's wedding?"

"I didn't stay for the after party, but yes, I was."

"I was there too. I was one of the maids of honor."

"I know. I remember you."

"You remember me?"

"Yeah. That's why I said 'finally'. Joe told me about you at that wedding."

"When???" I was even more confused now.

"When you were almost late!" He laughs, glancing away from the road for a moment to look at me. "Is this an interrogation? You don't trust me now?"

"It could be!" My concern breaks into a smile. "Tanner tells me about this mysterious 'Ted' that's gonna be on set and an hour later, you're practically my hero--our hero, the crew's hero. Now I'm learning we've been in, like, the same plane of existence before but it feels like you've just...spawned in."

"'Just spawned in'?" Ted repeated, still smiling. "I'd like to think I'm just a highly observant man, thank you very much. I remember you."

Now is the moment I realize I had sat up a bit more in my seat, leaning my back against the seat once more with a bewildered expression on my face.

"So--okay." I shut my eyes for a moment, ready to really process all of this information.

"You met Joe through your cousin."

"Cousin's friend, but yes." Ted confirms.

"You met Joe at your cousin's wedding, through his friend."

"Yes."

"Then you went to Joe's wedding."

"Yes."

"You saw me, and you met Tanner at Joe's wedding."

"Yup."

"And that's how you know everybody."

"You-You nailed it. Right on the coffin."

The first thing I do is start laughing, putting my face in my hands. Ted's laughing too, his eyes closing slightly as he does. He takes one of his hands off the steering wheel to run his fingers through his tall hair.

"I fucking told you it sounds insane!" He chuckles, glancing at me again. "I should just start lying and say we met in college, Jesus fucking christ."

"I'm glad you didn't lie! I just--oh my god, why is that so funny?" I wipe my eyes, trying to hold back the urge to continue laughing. I'm such a giggler. I'm the type to want to keep laughing about a joke that was told a good 5 minutes ago. "Why the fuck don't I remember you?"

"I don't fucking know! Maybe--Maybe, yknow, maybe it was just a long fuckin' dream I had and I'm really just lying to you. I don't know."

Ted and I are all smile's now, taking a couple minutes to come down from all the laughing. I don't even quite understand why that was so funny to me. Maybe it was the way he explained it all, or the way I tried reiterating it back to him. It did truly sound crazy, to an extent, but I believed him.

What I almost couldn't believe was that he remembered me. Why would he be able to remember me from the ceremony, but not actually come to meet me like he did Tanner? Tanner wasn't even the groom's best man, he wasn't up there with us. Before I had the thought to ask Ted, we pulled up to a Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru and got in line. Of course, it being the morning and all, there was quite the line-up.

I take my phone out to start getting everyone's order written down in my notes so I can pass the phone to Ted when we're at the speaker. "Have you been on many film sets?" I asked Ted, setting my phone down next to me.

"Oh yeah. I've helped make stuff before. Music videos, other short film's..." Ted, Tanner and I had talked briefly about each other while we were waiting for Conner to get back to us, so we knew about each other's respective channels.

"Is there, uh..." I paused, once again feeling a sense of embarrassment. "What's it all gonna be like? Filming I mean. It's not usually all done in order, right?"

What I was really trying to ask is: 'When are we gonna have to kiss?', but no way am I phrasing it so plainly.

"It all depends on how the director wants to do it." Ted explains, moving up a bit in the lineup. "We only have that set for about 3 weeks, so any scenes that need to be filmed there will have to be done pretty much immediately. Anything that's shot outside will be shot...out there." He pauses with a chuckle. "And then, yknow, everything else is just...after."

So that means one of the first scenes may be a kissing scene. Great. Wonderful.

We finally move up in line enough to be able to order everything. I hand Ted my phone so he can read off every order to the speaker, handing it back to me once he was done. He drove up to the window and was told he'd need to park, looking at me with a smirk before pulling away from the building to find a spot. As Ted drove around the parking lot, I thought about YouTube again. While Ted's channel had mostly grown during the pandemic, mine only started to grow within the last couples months after I was invited to this big collab creators like Eddy Burback and Jakey. I've become pretty good friends with a lot of the guys in the 'Commentary' corner of YouTube, I'm becoming as close with them as I am with my personal circle.

Huh. Kind of strange that I'm friends with Ted's friends and he's friends with mine, but we've never really met up until now. Small world, I suppose.

Ted found a decent spot to park in, slowing the truck down before putting it in park, finally able to take his hands off the wheel with a sigh. "Might wanna let Tanner know we'll be a while." Ted spoke, taking his seat belt off to better relax in his seat. I take out my phone to send a quick text to Tanner, letting him know we had parked and were just waiting.

There's a moment of silence after I set my phone down again. I can't think of anything to say, Ted is relatively quiet. I'm trying to think of a topic to turn to, but the pressure to speak completely blanks out my mind. It's unlike me.

"You're...okay with me doing this, right?" Ted speaks up, settling his elbow up on one of his armrests as he turns to look at me.

"Hm?"

"Taking Conner's place." He clarified. "I feel like I've just kind of...inserted myself into this, like...without your permission."

"I...don't think you need my permission, you needed Tanner's, right?"

"Well yeah, but I'm not...potentially gonna be locking lips with Tanner."

'Potentially'. I focus on that word in particular. Yes, he hasn't read the script. He doesn't know.

"I mean, I don't know, I'm just guessing." Ted added a humorous rasp to his voice, shrugging his shoulders up with his hands out.

"There's...a few." I admit with a bashful smile. "But I mean, he's there if you want to."

"Hey, I'm not opposed to smooching up the homies." Ted jokes, pointing at me somewhat. I start laughing and fling my head back, truly not expecting such a response. Ted starts laughing too, lightening the air up a little bit.

"I've--I've been down for it before! For the good of the content, I will settle my lips upon another man, another bro, if you will!"

I have to bring myself down from the laughing fit, moving some of my hair out of my face as the chuckling slowly subsides. Oh my god, he's just so funny and...oddly charming. I can see why Tanner suggested we do this snack run together, I'm strangely comfortble with Ted. If this was really the idea, it worked.

"Look, all I'm trying to say is..." Ted let's out a last few chuckles and for the first time, our eyes equally meet each other. He's giving me a genuine smile as he speaks.

"I can...reach out to a few other friends if you'd rather...have more of a choice. I'm cool with taking a step back, I'm sure Tanner would get it."

I keep my eyes settled on his for a little while, feeling warmth rise up my cheeks once more. It's in this moment I realize there isn't a lot of space between us. We're not uncomfortably close, but enough for it to make me blush.

"I'd rather it be you." I reply truthfully, making sure to sound confident. "I was surprised when you offered for sure, but...fuck, Tanner was right to put us on this trip, I think we'd work well together."

"Oh yeah? You'd kiss me?"

I see Ted's self-assured expression waver for a moment, like he spoke before realizing how it would sound. I take the opportunity to turn my body more towards him, resting my elbow on the backrest of the seat so I can prop my head up.

"Yeah." I reply in confidence, giving him a huge grin. "It's 7 kisses. I'll kiss you 7 times."

"It's SEVEN times!?" Ted sits up more in his seat to turn to me as well.

"Yeah! There's a fuckin...the first one is us playing spin the bottle with a bunch of other people."

"Oh my god, it's--you know we'll have to kiss more than 7 times, right? It has to--" He pauses to laugh "It has to look right!"

"That's fine! You're the one that said you'd 'kiss the pretty lady'!" I try to mimic his strong voice as I quote what he said back on set. Ted furrows his brows and rolls his eyes, looking down at his steering wheel. I raise a brow as he seems to glide his tongue along the front of his top teeth, opening his mouth to cackle.

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"You did. 'Pretty lady' here heard it."

Ted shakes his head again and mouths what looked like 'fuck' to himself. Before the conversation could continue, an employee of Dunkin Donuts knocks on Ted's window, completely startling him. I let out another little laugh as he rolls down his window to get all of the food, moving the bags of food to the backseat, putting most of the drinks in the cup holders he had available and handing me the rest to hold. He thanks the employee before rolling his window back up, letting out a huff before putting his seatbelt back on.

"Well, yknow what, I said what I said."

Ted smirks to himself, starting the truck up again. As I put my seatbelt on, he turns the radio on. Big mistake.

🎶'Now he's

🎶thinkin' bout meee, every night ohh,

🎶is it that--'

He turns the radio off.

I smile to myself and turn my head to look out my window, resisting the urge to laugh. Cute.

The first half of the ride back is quiet, only it doesn't feel awkward this time. I'm okay with it. I'm content, maybe even a little excited to get back. I can't bother to convince myself it's not because of Ted. Whether he meant to be or not, he was incredibly sweet and reassuring on this ride. Any doubts or worries I had about him taking Conner's spot had practically melted away.

"I suppose we've got good news for Tanner when we get back, eh?" I speak up, turning my head away from the window to look at Ted. He glances at me and lightly shakes his head, scoffing with a smile. "You're gonna let that slip up go to your head, aren't you?"

"'Slip up'? Awe.." I playfully pout at him "You don't think I'm pretty anymore?"

"Pretty fuckin' obnoxious."

"Ooh! Such harsh language, Teddy!" I put on an old-timey mid-atlantic accent, moving a bit away from the window. "That's not very becoming of a future star in the romance genre!"

"I'm gonna fucking pull this truck over and make you walk back, you fucking...prissy little passenger princess."

"With all the drinks in my hand?"

"You've got four. Four people not having their drinks would be worth it."

"You wanna watch the princess strut down the street?"

"No I wanna watch you trip and fall on your fucking..." I pauses for a bit longer than he probably meant to.

"My...pretty lady face?" I complete his sentence for him, shooting him a winning grin.

"I fucking hate you."

I break into joyful laughter as Ted tries to hold back a chuckle, making sure my grip on the tray in my lap is steady so I don't spill any of it. Bashful is a good look for him.

Finally we get back to set. Ted parks his truck exactly where he parked it before we left and gets out with me to start grabbing all the food. Joe and a few members of the crew come out to help carry everything back inside. This gives me the opportunity to talk to him about everything. As soon as Ted slipped up and flirted with me in the truck, I knew I needed to tell Joe.

We separated away from the rest of the crew for a moment while the rest of the wardrobe team got Ted into a different outfit for the shoot. I give Ted a quick little wave and he shoots me the middle finger with a mocking smile. Asshole. Joe and I decide to hang out by the top part of the stairs leading up to the second floor.

"He did not fucking say that." Joe gasps at me, giving me a look as if I were making it up.

"Dude, and he like...he was SO embarrassed after, I could tell."

"Ted did not fucking say 'you'd kiss me'"

"I swear to God!" I laugh quietly, getting shushes from Joe to keep it down. "You think I'd make that shit up? And!--And later, after he was all shy and shit, he tried to turn on the radio and 'Expresso' started playing and I've never seen a man turn the radio off SO FAST."

"Jesus christ..." Joe rests the side of his hand on his forehead, a dumb smile on his face.

"What's with you not telling me about this guy?" I ask Joe, turning more to him. "He was at your wedding! He met Tanner, but not me? What did you say to him?"

"I didn't want you two fucking!" Joe chuckled, getting a light but friendly smack on the shoulder from me.

"You're bullshit."

"I'm joking! Look--I didn't tell him not to approach you or anything, but like, I don't know, he didn't ask about you after the ceremony. He just left."

"Why did he leave before the party?"

"He had other plans, I guess. He didn't know anyone else there anyways. Dude would've just...danced by himself."

"Could've danced with me."

"He's literally right down there, (Y/N), go ask him why he didn't."

I take a peek over the railing to see Ted's new outfit being adjusted by the wardrobe team, watching as they were trying to decide whether or not to tuck the shirt in. He had a plain white tee on and some brown slacks with a leather belt around it, now with his glasses off and in his hand. I'm still surprised I didn't notice him at the wedding. Maybe I was blind, that's a fine looking dude, I feel like I would've remembered him.

I suppose my gaze was a bit too fond looking, as Joe's smile fades a little.

"(Y/N), I wouldn't do that..." His tone suggests he's worried about me.

"Do what? Look at him?" I joke, giving a light scoff.

"Not like that. This happens all the time."

"What happens all the time?"

"Cast members hooking up. It doesn't end well."

"Oh my god, Joseph, I'm not planning on hooking up with anyone"

"No no no, it literally happens like, all of the time. I'm serious." Joe clears his tone, setting his now empty cup beside him. "People that play love interests together will end up mixing the feelings, like they'll think on camera chemistry is real chemistry, and it ALWAYS ends badly."

"Isn't most of that faked for PR or whatever?"

"That would be worse! I'm just--I trust you, (Y/N), I'm just telling you, as your friend: don't fall for this guy. Don't even sleep with him. I'm serious."

I search Joe's face for any signs of this being a bit, but there's nothing. I don't know who he thinks I am in this moment, I just think Ted's a little cute, I'm not about to pull him into my chambers like some work siren. I've worked with a lot of male youtubers. I consider most of them to be great friends, I've never developed feelings for ANY of them and I'm certainly not the type to jump into bed with a dude because he smiles and twinkles his eyes at me.

I break the tension with a disregarding laugh, rolling my eyes. "Maybe I'll sleep with him just to spite you."

"(Y/N), I'm--"

"I know, I know, you're serious." I interrupt him, scoffing again. "I won't sleep with him."

"You're sure? You're gonna make sure you don't catch feelings for this guy?"

"'Catch feelings'..." I mutter in disbelief, snickering into my cup as I finish the last drop. Joe's silent, I guess he's looking for a genuine answer. I set my empty cup down and look at him, straight in the eye.

"I am not going to 'catch feelings' for Ted Nivison."

"You're sure?" Joe asks again, getting another eye roll from me.

"I'm sure!" I insist, the pitch in my voice elevating slightly. I can't tell if I sounded defensive or something, but it's a good enough response to get Joe to finally drop it.

I don't know why I'd sound defensive, I don't intend to catch feelings for anyone here.

I mean it. My feelings? Sealed. Shut tight. Buried in the hatch, if you will.

No one's catching those feelings. Not him.

__________________________________

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 ||

[prying-pandora666]

On Alucard and Maria

Are there actually fans advocating for Alucard to be written as Maria’s father figure in the new season of Nocturne? Like that would be a good thing and not infinitely creepier? I don’t think they’ve thought this through.

Alucard is the single most popular character in the franchise. He’s also probably the most shipped character. And yet he has only had one canon love interest in the decades since he’s existed. It’s Maria. And you’re telling me that you think that because he’s 300+ and she’s 17-18 when they started living together in the games, that it would be grooming. However, somehow him inserting himself into her life at age 16 when she’s just lost both her parents wouldn’t come off like grooming!?

Does this man look like he should be picking up random children!? He’s literally terrified of his own cursed blood. Maybe LISTEN TO HIM.

I’m convinced fandoms have forgotten what that word means. Grooming has specific features. It doesn’t just mean “older guy and younger girl.” A relationship with an age gap or an uneven power dynamic can be exploitative or abusive without being a case of grooming. Grooming specifically refers to the process of forming a relationship with a child with the intention of leveraging that relationship and trust to train and prepare (aka brainwash) your victim for the harmful activities the groomer wants to normalize. The relationship Alucard and Maria have in the games is in no way grooming. You know what would be grooming though?

Coming into a 16 year old’s life when she’s vulnerable, traumatized, and recently orphaned only to insinuate yourself as a new father figure. This is so highly inappropriate and a huge red flag. Consider what you’re actually asking for here. These characters do not exist in a a vacuum. They have a long history together as each other’s only canon love interests. You cannot fully extract them from the games, art, interviews, audio dramas, animations, and more where they’re depicted as a couple. There are decades of this precedent and you are asking Netflix to knowingly take the characters with an established romantic dynamic that the audience is already primed to see as romantic and instead portray their meeting as him trying to be her new daddy?

“Oh look! Alucard and his… daughter? Yikes.” This is an official advertisement btw.

THAT is grooming! Think about the optics of this! It would be abysmal! No it would NOT fix the problem of their age gap to make him act like a groomer and get in good with her as a dad. You just cannot completely extract them from the legacy of their relationship in the source materials. It will be incredibly creepy and textbook grooming if you get your way.

Is this really what you want to associate with an “adoptive father Alucard”? Because the art we create doesn’t exist in a vacuum. All the old content—official and fanmade—is still going to exist.

What is so objectionable about the original dynamic anyway? It’s a pretty fun subversion of the tired and problematic vampire trope of “vampire man stalks teen girl and coerces her into being his”. Instead in their original relationship, Maria is the one who pursues Alucard! It’s the young woman who takes initiative and is given the agency to go after what she wants. She courts and woos him. That’s part of the fun!

Yes, Alucard is 300+. He’s also a fictional creature that doesn’t actually exist IRL and stays eternally young. There are no actual people who will ever have his problem of staying 20 forever so it’s rather silly to say he can’t date any humans because of course he will have an age gap with any of them.

The only real problem I have seen people bring up is Maria’s age, but from what I can tell, the show’s already fixed this. Check it out.

In The Games

Rondo of Blood: Maria is 12. She and Alucard do not meet. Richter is a brother-figure and not romantic.

There is then a 5 year time skip.

Symphony of the Night: Maria is 17. She and Alucard meet to save Richter. At the end, Alucard says his goodbyes and intends to return to a life of solitude. Maria goes after him because she has developed feelings for him and doesn’t want him to suffer a life alone.

Maria is given agency to pursue what she wants and prove herself even against Alucard’s resistance and hesitance to let another person into his life.

They spend a year together before we get the audio drama.

Nocturne of Remembrance: Maria continues to try to get close to Alucard. They end up saving each other’s lives and in the end he finally confesses his romantic feelings for her. She is an adult and perfectly able to make her own choices. She chose him. He admits he returns her feelings.

How fandom can look at a story about a young woman subverting the trope and chasing the vampire to get what she wants—basically an anti-Bella Swan—and still find a way to disempower her just so they can pearl clutch? I couldn’t tell you.

So now let’s look at what the show did.

In The Show

Nocturne S1: Maria is 16. She’s been aged up from 12, probably to give her a more active and believable role. But this also means she’s within a normal age to start feeling attraction and expressing her wants. Within her society, she’s even considered of marriageable age. However we are spared the discomfort of our modern values clashing with her contemporaneous ones because Maria in this season isn’t interested in romance. She’s interested in revolution, equality, justice. They’ve portrayed her with so much love and strength. There is no indication they’d betray her by writing her as the child victim of a male suitor. In fact she only meets Alucard in the final few seconds of the season and the two do not even speak a single word to one another.

Now let’s remember the games had a five year time skip. The show only needs two years to get Maria to the adult age of 18, but assuming the follow through with the timeline and go for the full five?

Maria will be 21.

21.

Fan concept for adult Maria. Credit:@esp-art

Are you telling me a 21 year old woman is not old or mature enough to make her own decisions? How is this not a total infantilization of women? Do you think a 21 year old badass vampire hunter needs protection from the ace depressed dhampir boy who just wants to sleep and has in no way tried to pursue her until after she expressed consistent and persistent interest in him?

It is not “grooming” to meet someone when they were younger and then meet them again years later as an adult. That’s a thing that happens! In real life! Adults can still make decisions for themselves! It is only grooming if Alucard behaved in a way that would manipulate teen Maria and put her under his control and authority before she can consent. There is no indication that Alucard in the show is going to do this. And yet the fandom is basically demanding it by saying he should make her “his baby girl”?

And what of Maria’s feelings in all this? She just lost her mother and was betrayed by her father shortly after discovering he even existed. She has lived her whole life without a father. She is in no desperate need of a new one. And if she does need a family member, she already has one! Richter is 19 and is her trusted adoptive brother. Why wouldn’t she go to him over a total stranger she just met and who is half vampire - literally a predator creature that feeds on humans!?

Yeah, hi, Richter Belmont still exists. He and Maria consider each other family. Why would you want her relying on a strange man she just met as a “father figure” rather than her trusted and loving brother?

Have none of you even considered how Maria would feel if Alucard even tried to fill the paternal role? He’d have to force it on her through manipulation and coercion. No way she would want to view him that way. Especially considering she is 16 and likely to be as attracted to the sparkly 20 year old looking sculpted marble beauty as anyone else!

Don’t mind the beautiful eternally young man who looks made of pure porcelain and light. No teen girl has ever been attracted to this, right? No way it could be exploitative and creepy for him to present himself as her new daddy, giving himself authority and influence over her as his child to mold as he wishes, right? Oh yeah, this is MUCH better than Maria pursuing him of her own volition once she becomes an adult, right guys?

We are truly in the stupidest dark timeline.

Frankly, I don’t care if Netflix has them get together or not. They would work just fine as friends too. I just sure as hell hope they’ll ignore the fans clamoring for a creepy daddy/daughter dynamic. Dressing it up as “concern” won’t hide that for some it’s a fetish, and for others they’re just useful idiots who haven’t thought it through.

I implore you to think it through.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Finished Last Twilight, and I'm not adding to the ableism discourse, because most things have already been said and with a lot of beautiful nuance that I agree with. But I do want to talk about how that ending arrived because of Aof Noppharnach's consistent symbolic commentary on the experience of living with HIV in much of his work, with an approach that's unique among all queer content. Imma skip Gay OK Bangkok since its not even a metaphor there, but I'll explain my rationale for the others, and we can just appreciate the foundation Gay OK Bangkok lays for us to think about the rest of his stuff.

The motif of life-saving medical intervention comes up in all but one of the works he takes screenwriting credit on. He's Coming To Me: P'Med dies originally because of a lack of medical intervention. 1000 Stars: Tian gets a heart transplant. Moonlight Chicken: this one's more subtle, but the whole series is explicitly established in the context of reopening following the COVID pandemic, and Wen will later say to Jim, "we are survivors." It was this line upon rewatch that made me start considering how thorough this theme is. Survivors of what? The meaning is three-fold: hard lessons in love, COVID, and, for gay men of their age, the HIV epidemic. The hope of medical intervention for Day's condition takes on a secondary meaning, with this trend in mind, even if the mixed disability politics between visual impairment and being HIV positive really fails.

His comparisons are more intricate though. Pills and daily regimens are a consistent motif. Day has his daily eye-drops, Tian his pills (which are presumably immune-suppressants to help accept the transplant but I'm not going to Viki right now and watching every ep to find out so someone feel free to correct me). 'But people take medicine for lots of things,' you say. 'Just because its gay doesn't mean its an HIV metaphor!' You have a fair point! But here's where Aof gets real fun and sneaky. P'Med dies from lack of pills the same year Torfun, whose heart will save Tian's life, is born, 1997. I'm mentioned once before 1997 as important for the class-conscious Aof because of the Asian financial crisis that Thailand set off that year. However, 1997 is also important because its the year HAART, or Highly Active Anti-Retroviral Therapy was first used in Thailand (it had hit the market only one year earlier). HAART, a multi-drug regimen, boosted someone's life-expectancy with HIV up by 15 years, and its side-effects were significantly milder than previous approaches. The medical conditions of P'Med and Torfun's heart point us directly to HAART, and what it could offer.

Now we're moving out of the medical and into the experiential connections because, while Dark Blue Kiss is the only work Aof chose to take credit for screen-writing without incorporating medical references, it is by far the most dense with references to the issue of concealment. Its in the narrative as people closet identities and hide relationships, yes, but its in SO much of the visuals, too, most obviously the Pete & Kao mug hidden inside its coozie. It's easy to see the surface story about gay visibility and the closet, but there's a more specific subtext here about the associated condition that intensified the stigma of being gay and how that impacts your sense of self. Bad Buddy explores this issue less, but even in the BL Bubble, its haunted by the stigma of homophobia--it just shuffles it over onto rivalry so the audience can experience it without reproducing it.

However, the grief and shame of surviving when others haven't haunts Aof's other works much more intensely. Jim and Tian both are hung up on guilt for someone's death that they did not actually cause, continuing to pursue the goals for those that passed rather than their own. Then, there's Thun and P'Med, which is the best allegory for living and dating with HIV, bar none. It goes into the feelings of stigma and the limits of physical intimacy with partners that living with HIV caused, especially prior to Truvada's introduction in 2004. Even then, the show depicts how a HIV negative partner maintains the choice to participate in their own regimens, as Thun's desires for physical intimacy with P'Med manage their relationship and never the other way around.

This sense of required separation and gay identities that are less sex-focused also play into oft-maligned motifs in Aof's work. He's talked explicitly about people's criticisms of the limited physical intimacy in his earlier works that led to the more prominent stuff in Bad Buddy, but I hope given the above context, we can appreciate why physical intimacy is less of a priority than other kinds (and I'd add that 1000 Stars, which got the most sh*t about it, is actually one of the most erotically-charged BLs out there because of it's restraint). Then, you have the finales where characters separate for periods of time, and while I don't see this as explicitly tied to HIV experiences (Aof is literally following the book of romcom beats there, even if everyone whines about it), I can't help but appreciate a tangential connection to loving beyond time and distance that was required for those who lived with or lost loved ones to HIV.

I would've loved to see a version of Last Twilight that didn't absolutely bungle its metaphor, because it had every element to be something great (except, I'm sorry to the fans, lead actors with the necessary queer romantic chemistry). Watching the last episode, when the show seemed to finally rediscover plot and pacing, all the other pieces that had been drowned out by the disability conversation peeked their heads out, and I saw what the show wanted to be. The topics related to living with HIV of stigma, survivor's guilt, and assistive technologies: they were all right there, not just for Day but for everyone, if only they had been given the proper time to marinate to develop more complexity. It's the rare instance of a show where I'll choose to spend time imagining what could have been rather than obsessing over what was or just moving on. Even a misstep from Aof, like this, is overflowing with so many more layers than most series. The failures of Last Twilight, in relationship to his other works, even let you see how much food for thought he's providing.

[garpen]

I'm doing a Gotham Tarot thing for myself and can't decide on The magician. My heart says Duke but my brain says Tim. So pls pick for me, here are the arguments:

Duke:

Mastery, skills, and resourcefulness in his role as The Signal. The Magician uses their talents to effect change. Before developing powers, he used his natural talents in his involvement in the W.A.R. movement, and later on became the only meta-human and daytime vigilante in Gotham. His approach to crime fighting, using tech, tactical skill, and ability to adapt to various situations in his environment and his knowledge of outsmarting criminals/villains, strongly reflect the Magician's resourcefulness. His journey from regular citizen to skilled hero embodies/represents the Magician transformation, and his development and growth as The Signal do as well. Spiritually the magician symbolizes the ability to channel and direct energy/force effectively, and Duke’s powers allow him to manipulate light and darkness which can be seen as a form of channeling cosmic or spiritual energies.

Why not Duke? Yes, he exhibits mastery and resourcefulness, but compared to Tim, Duke’s role is less about the broad application of mastery and more focused on a specific niche in Gotham. His role is relatively new and less focused on grand-scale transformation/mastery. Too niche, not broad enough as the Magician depicts.

Tim:

He is known for his exceptional detective skills, intellect, and strategic mind. As RR, he combines his skills with tech and training, showcasing mastery and competence characteristics. He is highly resourceful, utilizing his skills to solve problems and tackle challenges. His evolution from a skilled detective to a prominent Batfam member, and his role in various capacities, reflect his ability to manifest his potential and effect positive change from regular citizen, to becoming Robin, to Red Robin. Creating positives with each transformation. HE uses how skills to create/employ advanced gadgets, strategies, and techniques to address complex problems, demonstrating the magicians' resourcefulness and inventive qualities. While not overtly mystical Tim could be seen to integrate/bridge the gap between theoretical knowledge and real-world action-which could represent the magician's integration of spiritual insights with practical action. His journey also reflects a search for a higher purpose and commitment to realizing his full potential.

Why not Tim? His character is grounded in practical, not mystical skills

(Idk why I decided to do this. This is literally for myself. I'm slowly making my way through the major arcana and deep diving into characteristics and tarot meanings to find the best character/situation for each. 7/22 of the Major Arcana done. Might do the Minor Arcana too)