#and how the change of actresses can be a plot point because she is a great character LIKE THAT

[vampcine]

like, one of the most outstanding takes i get from IWTV it's that, my focus is not entirely taken by the queer relationships.

yes, ofc i like them and like to read about them I FOUND THEM FASCINATING it's true !!!

but the series is just so complete as a WHOLE, that the fact that i can ship these old man together is not the main reason i like the show

every character has so many levels and complexity that their conflict they have with themselves is so interesting that my thoughts are completely consumed by their personalities and character development

and look, ik this is completely normal and all, but the main reason i watched IWTV was to get the gay content, which i got! but oh god, i gained so many things that are just as good

[jeanbie]

PRESCOTT ★ masterlist.

pairing: connie x reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, awkwardness/second-hand-embarrassment, porn with plot, alcohol, sex under the influence, semi-public sex, quickies, blowjobs, doggy | wc: 13k

note: the yapper allegations are true - example a: this fic. 10k of connie and mama, all because you guys overwhelmed me with love for ghostface!! it's a gift for you guys ✩࿐  connie is sooooo gekko coded in this fic btw!!

★ sequel to ghostface

⏤ After Halloween, you've been trying your hardest to avoid being near Connie Springer, but a little bit of alcohol on Porco's birthday is all it takes for you to find yourself back in his arms.

You can think of a thousand different reasons to avoid going to Porco’s birthday party, but all of them turn to ash in your mouth the second Ymir levels you with her dirtiest glare imaginable.

“Just how many birthdays are there going to be in November?” you ask, punching in the number of the last bottle of Dr Pepper into the vending machine. It threatens to hold the bottle hostage for a moment until you shake the machine by its sides, all whilst desperately trying to avoid looking at Ymir.

You’ve never been a very good liar, nor a great actress, which is exactly why you’re not at all surprised that she’s managed to notice your strangeness since Armin’s birthday. At one point, you thought you were doing a marvellous job at containing the humiliation inside of you, but Ymir’s analytical breakdown of every irregularity in your behaviour made you aware of just how obvious you’ve been making it. It’s a wonder she hasn’t already figured out the exact reason for your distance, created suspiciously after leaving Armin’s flat.

But, it’s not like you can just outrightly say that you got fucked by one of her friends in Eren’s cupboard on Halloween. The timing wasn’t right. And, on top of that, there was nothing remotely wrong with that fact to justify your withdrawal from society because of it — that had happened purely because of how hot Connie actually was underneath that Ghostface mask.

And now, every memory of that moment has been altered so that his face appears bowed over your spread legs instead of that sloping plastic mouth of wide horror. And it’s dreadfully humiliating.

“Porco’s is the last one,” Ymir says, leaning her weight on the other vending machine full with snacks. The library has an entire wing that permits food and drink, but with midterms looming around the corner, you’re not about to waste any more time drinking down here when you could be working, and no more time spent on conjuring up the image of a man you’ve met — and fucked — once.

“I barely know Porco,” you try. It’s true. While you’ve been running with Ymir and Reiner for a long time, it’s only been a few months since you met their extended group consisting of Porco, Pieck, Yelena and a few other faces you only see at house parties or in between classes. “Did I even get invited, or is this one out of pity, too?”

Ymir rolls her eyes. “More out of association, really. Plus, he thinks you’re hot, so that helped.”

“I’m charmed,” you mutter, taking a swig of the Dr Pepper before she, too, decides to rattle her jacket pocket for some loose change. “I’m just your hot friend.”

“Damn straight,” Ymir laughs, sliding her coins into the machine, eyes torn between two drinks. A line is forming quickly behind the pair of you, which makes Ymir slow down on purpose as she makes her choice. With her tongue between her teeth, she thinks long and hard before saying, “Seems like you made quite the impression at Armin’s birthday.”

You try very hard to ignore the regretful twist in your belly. “What? With who?”

Ymir looks at you from the side, crouching after a beady glare to get her drink. “Who are you expecting?”

“Nobody. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, right. You’ve been acting weird lately,” she accuses, finally giving way to the growing line of students. Ymir looks up in acknowledgement as Reiner rounds one of the glass doorways, immediately heading straight to the instant coffee machine with a grumble. “Don’t think we haven’t noticed. We have.”

“Who’s we?” you ask, slinking in her shadow as she sets off towards Reiner. There must be some sort of gravitational pull between the pair of them — it’s probably what makes them so enjoyable to be around, the reason you choose to call them your closest friends.

Ymir claps Reiner on the back. “We is us. We’ve noticed.”

“Noticed what, sorry?” Reiner asks distractedly, looking up once his little cup is under the tap, the machine screaming to life.

“How weird she’s been since Halloween.”

“Oh. Yeah, you have been acting sus,” Reiner comments, in a way that makes you feel like he’s simply going along with whatever Ymir is saying to spite you. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. He had played his part in convincing you to go to Eren’s Halloween party, and you conveniently remember that party being the main factor behind your week-long self-imposed exile.

“How?” you snort, rather defensively. 

“Just weird,” Ymir explains. “Like how you totally blanked us when we called you over the other day outside of Tom’s.”

You vaguely recall seeing Ymir and Reiner standing with a bunch of people outside the corner shop a few days ago. Behind Reiner’s wide body had stood Connie Springer, dazzling in his baggy blue jeans, and it had been enough for you to simply wave and be on your way. 

“Being busy doesn’t qualify as being weird, guys.”

Reiner stirs his coffee and shrugs. In hindsight, you know that there are probably better ways to get over the embarrassment you feel from Halloween. It wasn’t even as if you regretted what happened — you didn’t. Being bent over a suitcase in Eren’s utility cupboard had been a thrill, a real pleasure. Connie had been concealed beneath a Scream movie mask and you were blissfully unaware of him, and you like to think that is the only reason why you acted so out of character. 

Cumming with your legs in the air, desperately fiddling with your clit and greedily trying to catch every last drop of Ghostface’s cum? That was so unlike you! You’ve never been that horny, that turned on, that animalistic and needy. And seeing Connie a few days later, looking the way that he did, becoming a familiar face — you can’t explain the feeling very well, but mortified comes close.

How are you supposed to look him in the eye without replaying what you did together over and over again? How are you supposed to face him and try and be normal, when you were anything but when he had his cock up your cunt?

“Still being weird, by the way.”

Ymir’s voice doesn’t register until she grabs the back of your neck gently and squeezes, and it’s as if you’ve been rebooted to life. The library canteen manifests into view once more, and you look over at Ymir and Reiner sheepishly, trying to think of something to say that can justify your behaviour.

But nothing can. Yes — you’re being weird.

Unfortunately, you think your strange behaviour will only continue once Ymir looks over your head and smiles, and a wave of dread washes over you. 

Please be someone I like. Please be anyone but the one person I do not want to see—

“No fucking way,” Ymir laughs joyfully. “Congrats on finding the library, Pock.”

A deep laugh sounds from behind you, and you brave a glance over your shoulder in hopes that it might just be Porco standing there. But as soon as you turn and spot three people standing there, one being the very last person you wanted to see, you feel your body grow hot and your mind whirl.

Great. Fucking great.

Porco glances between you and Ymir for a second, a smirk still on his face, and you’re almost overcome with relief when Reiner pulls you back to stand near his hip slightly, an arm draped over your shoulders.

“First time for everything,” Porco finally replies. By a small mercy, he has devoted his attention to Ymir, the little blonde girl behind his elbow falling into place near Ymir’s armpit. Not that you’re looking at any of them — your eyes are stupidly glued to the guy standing just in front of Reiner. 

The guy who had you undone in a fucking utility cupboard.

Unlike at the party, your options are limited on what to look at instead of Connie, which is precisely why you enslave yourself to taking him all in, every last detail of his face, his body, while his eyes are drawn to Ymir as she talks. 

Just like how he was on Armin’s birthday, every feature on Connie’s face is practically glowing with charm. It is a miracle that he ended up being more attractive now than he was with the mask on — you hadn’t put too much thought into conjuring up a false image under the mask that night, but even if you had, you wouldn’t have even considered pulling together someone who looked like that.

As you’re ogling his face and body, your heart lurches unexpectedly when Connie glances back over to where you and Reiner are standing, a smile pulling up on his lips. A small set of dimples appear in his cheeks as he does so, the sharp shape of his eyebrows rising as he studies you in particular. 

Of course he recognises you. After all, Connie was the only one wearing a mask that night, physically speaking. You pray that Reiner isn’t paying close enough attention to the wandering eyes of his friend as Connie takes a good, long look and you half-heartedly fidget into his side.

“Just you guys?”

Even though your eyes have zeroed in on Connie’s mouth, you blink and process the question with a delay. Thankfully, it seems like Reiner’s talking to Connie instead of you, which you’re grateful for. You have nothing to say to Connie, anyway. 

Connie’s green eyes flicker up from his tight assessment of you to Reiner’s face — another act of mercy. 

He nods his head backwards, gesturing towards the circular stairs that spin up to the third floor, “Some of us are on the third floor. Marco, Jean…you know. I’m going in about an hour, I’ve gotta go to work.”

Whatever else he says you completely zone out from, though not on purpose. Connie looks both the same and completely different to how he did on Armin’s birthday; his buzzed hair is now a blonde wash, his skin looking more tanned from it. 

Now that you’re up close, you count at least three moles on his face in a cluster of spaces, under his eye and across his cheeks. He says something, the tick of his jaw making you glance down ever so slightly to his neck before lifting back to his face — where in a shock, you discover his eyes are back on you.

For how long have you been gawking at him? And how long has he been looking back?

“Did you get that from here?” 

You blink. Then, you realise he’s talking to you.

Surprised, you jut your head forwards slightly and look at him with wide eyes. “Sorry?”

Remarkably, Connie laughs, as though he finds your bemusement amusing. He points at the bottle of Dr Pepper in your hand, smile widening into a grin. “That,” he says.

“What?” For a second, you’re mostly confused. Out of everything you could have expected Connie to say to you after Halloween, you had never guessed it would be about the drink in your hand. 

Reiner’s arm loosens around your shoulders as he turns to look at you, probably because your silence is stretching on a little too long to be normal. Unbeknownst to Reiner, you know that judging by Connie’s own lapsed silence, he’s perfectly content with waiting until you answer — just to hear you answer, if you even do. 

You carefully look back at Connie, as if trying to gauge his sincerity, and for a moment, you catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, a taunting lift of his eyebrows.

He likes your silence. He’s relishing in it.

“Yeah,” you decide to say finally, pointing over your shoulder to the vending machines. “There.”

Connie nods. He could have quite easily figured it out himself, and once he looks away, towards Ymir rather than the vending machines, you realise belatedly that he isn’t actually interested. He was just trying to start a conversation. And you blew it.

“I think I had the last one, though,” you add, which makes Connie break away from Ymir’s story she’s sharing with Porco and the blonde girl with a little bit too much enthusiasm to be faked. Reiner’s entire arm falls from your shoulders and he assesses the gap between you and Connie. When did it get smaller? 

Connie steps closer, only once, craning his head around your shoulder to the machines.

“For real?” he laughs, inspecting the selection of drinks from afar. Then, Connie hums, “what else is there?”

Is he seriously asking you about the drinks in the vending machine right now? 

Your mouth falls open in surprise — this is not at all how you expected this to go down. You’d been toying between Connie being a total douche and making lewd references to the cupboard, or perhaps being so disinterested in your existence that all he said was hello and nothing more. The casual topic is almost disturbing, so out of the character profile of his that you drew up in the days spent avoiding him.

“Um…I’m not sure,” you reply honestly. The only thing on your mind is him, and his black cloak in the dark cupboard. His voice, his laugh, his hands on your body.

Beside you, Reiner clears his throat and he shoots both you and Connie an insincere smile, before making a speedy exit towards Porco while Ymir is busy entertaining the other girl. You watch with dismay as he moves away. 

How could he just leave you here like this? Of course, he doesn’t know that you’re in an internal battle against your feelings for Connie, but still, solidarity! You can’t believe his lack of loyalty.

“I’ll have a look,” is what Connie replies with, and you blink furiously at him as he shortens the distance between you and steps past you. His hand slips very slightly past your leg, a finger delicately brushing past your thigh, and if it weren’t for your hyper-fixation on his every gesture and movement, you might have missed it entirely. 

All you can do is watch over your shoulder as he walks towards the vending machines, rather slowly at that, and stands in front of it to browse the selection.

You’re left standing there, away from the throng of friends discussing Porco’s party, even further from the guy who rearranged your guts on Halloween and has been a plague in your thoughts. And for a few seconds, you’re torn on where to go next.

Stand with your friends and avoid talking to Connie? Stay in your place? Leave and go back to your things?

You do none of those things. There is no reasonable explanation for why your body decides to turn and head in Connie’s direction, no explanation you think is good enough. But, you move regardless, until your feet stagger in Connie’s shadow and he glances to the side, surprising himself when he sees that you’ve followed him.

You look between him and the machine, careful not to spend too long caught in the surprised yet pleased look in his eyes.

“Told you,” you say weakly, looking back at the machine.

“Yup, I can see that,” Connie replies, with a slight laugh that feels oddly reminiscent of the way he chuckled over your bent body in the cupboard. His eyes drop to your mouth for a brief second before clamping on your eyes once more, “You want something?”

It takes a beat for you to realise he’s asking in relation to the vending machine. “Oh, no. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay,” he replies, and maybe you’re overthinking it, but he sounds almost confused. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s confused as to why you’ve followed him over here to do nothing once you’re by his side. He wouldn’t be the only one confused by that; you’re still trying to make sense of it yourself. 

Once his eyes are back on the vending machine, you let out an internal groan and focus on the outline of his jaw, desperately thinking of something to say before he punches in the numbers for a bottle of Fanta and says, “you good?”

There’s a pause. What can you say, now that the chance to say anything is here?

You glance back towards the group near the coffee machine and bite the inside of your lip. They’re just a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation you might want to be a part of. Instead, you look back at Connie and nod dumbly, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he nods, crouching to get his bottle. 

Why the hell is this so awkward? Last week, this man had been up your snatch, trying to shove his dick up your ass. Why is seeing him after the fact so fucking uncomfortable?

“Did I do something?” You don’t know what you expected Connie to say after he got his drink, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“What? No?”

His brows pinch together slightly. “Just thought maybe you got uncomfortable or something.”

“…Why?” you ask slowly.

“You’ve avoided coming near me every time I’ve seen you since Armin’s birthday,” he starts. Has Connie suddenly appearing everywhere after Halloween been less of a coincidence than you originally thought, and instead more of a deliberate choice? 

You blink, following along with his words, “and you blocked me on Instagram, so I just—” And how the fuck does he know about that?

So, he’s right; you did block him after Armin’s party, but only because you viewed his story on accident after a stalking session once you got home. Honestly, you never thought he’d notice, never need to notice. The hot flush that swarms your body is uncontrollable.

“I…” you start, but the words die like ash in your mouth.

Connie faces you, looking thoughtful. “It’s cool if you got cold feet after Halloween. Sorry if you had a bad time.”

“Wha—wait, I never said I had a bad time,” you rush to say, probably sounding a bit too eager, but it’s too late to reign it back in. You mutter to the floor, “the opposite, actually.”

“So, you did like it.”

“Wasn’t that kind of obvious?” you reply, laughing slightly. “I just…I don’t know. I didn’t expect to see you after Halloween. I just freaked out, it’s not personal.”

“Blocking me felt personal.”

“I panicked! I didn’t want you to think I was weird for finding your Instagram and then looking at your stories and posts and—” You stop. In order for Connie to find out that you blocked him, it would require him doing some online stalking of his own, and once the penny drops, your head jerks back in alarm. “I…I’m sorry?”

At that, Connie sniggers, shaking his head and taking a step back when someone manifests out of thin air behind you in demand of the vending machine. He reaches out for your arm and gently guides you away with him. 

Frantically, you look back at the group; Ymir is neck deep in her story, the blonde in her arms enraptured by whatever it is she’s saying. Reiner and Porco are the only ones taking interest in you and Connie, but you look away before their curious glances can garner any attention.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” Connie says, his hand dropping after a beat of holding your arm. “We’re good, mama.”

Mama — just the word makes you feel weightless.

“Mm,” is all you can say in reply.

But Connie seems unperturbed by your lack of response. “You going to Pock’s party this weekend?”

Right — the very thing you had been discussing before your entire afternoon tilted on its axis. Porco’s upcoming birthday was becoming a hot topic in conversation, but you aren’t even sure if you’re going or not. An invite through somebody else doesn’t feel like much of an invite to you, despite that being the case for the last two parties you’ve been in attendance of.

“Uh… Maybe,” you tell him. “I actually don’t know Porco that well.”

“Huh.” Connie’s brows raise, his mouth in a falling slope, “Really?” He looks to the side in Porco’s direction, but you don’t join him. You’re too busy analysing the crestfallen look on his face, wondering what on earth put it there. “I thought he liked you.”

“That’s what Ymir told me.”

He looks back at you immediately, “Do you like him?”

“I don’t even know him.” But, then again, you didn’t know Connie at one point, and it hadn’t been enough to deter you from taking his hand and letting him lead you into Eren’s cupboard with your skirt up over your arse. Based on the flat look on Connie’s face, you assume he’s probably thinking the same thing. 

“He’s not really my type,” you add, simply for no reason at all. But Connie’s face tugs up because of it.

He laughs shortly, “That’s good, then.”

Is it? You want to ask why, but Connie’s already looking back at the group and raising his brows in acknowledgement. All of them are looking over at the pair of you almost expectantly, and he addresses you with a simple smile and says, “Maybe I’ll see you at the party, then.”

Your heart is speeding up in your chest. Even though this entire conversation has been drier than bones, something inside of you wants him to stay. 

“You’re going?” you ask him, walking slowly by his side as you head back towards your mixed friends. 

“Of course,” Connie replies. “I’ll buy you a drink if I see you?”

“Yes,” you say, for it’s all you can say without feeling like you’re going to explode from overheating. And now that the group is mere steps away, you don’t want to compromise the secret hanging between you like a forbidden fruit, waiting for someone to pluck it off the branch and make it known to the world.

Connie says nothing else in confidence to you. All you catch once he turns to leave is a quick goodbye before he follows Porco back up the stairs to his books, meanwhile Ymir is officially taken with the blonde who is pulling her arm in their wake. Only Reiner remains, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Don’t,” you caution him.

“Don’t what?”

“Just…don’t.”

Reiner grins; something tells you he knows more than he’s letting on that he does. But he saves you the drawn out humiliation of raising the point in the library, but you’re not in the clear, yet.

Not by a long shot.

21:43 Reiner: soooo 21:43 Reiner: what happened with you and connie 21:45 You: nothing? 21:45 You: i dont even know him lol 21:46 Reiner: why r u lying 21:46 You: ?? 21:47 Reiner: ik you guys fucked lol

A horrified cry leaves your mouth when the message pops up. All you’ve done since Armin’s birthday is avoid the window of possibility of anybody finding out what happened on Halloween. Are you really that bad of an actress?

21:50 You: ????? 21:51 Ymir: wtf 21:51 Ymir: when?? 21:51 Ymir: how do u even know eachother???? im so confused

For a while, you entertain not replying at all — the horror of both of your best friends now knowing your embarrassing secret for some unkind reason is still sinking in. 

But, Reiner seems all too enthusiastic to fill in with what he’s learned.

21:53 Ymir: hellooo???? 21:54 Reiner: on halloween hahah 21:54 Reiner: i only know because connie told me

(At the same time…)

21:55 Ymir: he’s obvs lying 21:55 You: why would he even tell you that? wtf 21:55 Ymir: ITS TRUE??

Lying would have been the smartest option. As Ymir begins to freak out, you berate yourself for not thinking of it sooner.

Still, the pressing irritation you feel in your head builds as you try and make sense of why Connie would even tell people. What on earth would he gain from doing that? A kick? An ego? 

Suddenly, Porco’s rumoured “crush” on you starts tasting sour in your mouth.

22:08 Reiner: he kept asking for your insta and i thought it was weird 22:08 Reiner: so i made him tell me why tf he was so desperate 22:08 Reiner: and he said he hooked up w u on halloween and was looking for u so he could like link up or something 22:08 Reiner: idk 22:09 Reiner: i think he was blocked anyway looool why would you do that

Hey, it had been a knee-jerk reaction! But you wouldn’t expect either of them to understand, not when you barely understood yourself. 

If only you could be like your drunken self all the time — maybe the simple mission of acting normal around Ghostface would be made ten times easier if you were. 

Your mind slides over the memory of the utility cupboard again, and you urgently shake your head and sigh, throwing your phone to the end of the bed with a groan.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so complicated if only you had left it alone. If you’d never gone online stalking, found Connie and then blocked him after viewing a story posted two minutes ago, then maybe you could have acted normal when the next meeting arose. 

And, while you’re thinking about it, at least it was in public. You can’t imagine how stupid you might have acted if Connie had found you alone, perhaps in a bar or at another party, where the dark lights and the loud music could have entranced you into his arms and bent over some other questionable surface.

Considering how often Connie and Halloween have resurfaced in your mind, you can’t honestly say that none of the above wouldn’t have happened if you saw him again. You were lucky to have escaped in the library, albeit after a very awkward exchange. 

With almost confident certainty, you believed there would be no chance Connie would want to broach a conversation with you again, not after the tremendous letdown of finding out the way you acted on Halloween was a one-time exclusive. 

Having reflected on the whole thing, and suffered the painful consequence of Ghostface being a sexy friend of a friend, you’ll never do it again. 

Your phone has been vibrating relentlessly since you threw it, and you reach for it once more and gloss over the messages. A few jump out:

22:18 Ymir: sorry its just too random 22:18 Ymir: im still in shock 22:18 Reiner: ikr 22:18 Reiner: someone needs to tell pock that his dreams of seducing her are over 22:19 Ymir: jfc 22:19 Ymir: im gay but even I’D pick connie over porco 22:19 Ymir: hey was he at least good?? 22:20 You: it was fine 22:20 Ymir: so thats a yes LMAO 22:20 Ymir: i just cant believe you let him fuck u on halloween 22:20 Ymir: YOU!!!  22:20 Ymir: its too amazing 22:21 Reiner: gotta hold her back at pocks bday lololol 22:21 Reiner: something abt a party just gets her going 22:21 You: why dont u stfu

Unbeknownst to them both, you’ve been having the same concerns. Porco’s birthday is a bump in the road you’re currently driving along to get to complete peace and happiness; the final birthday of November, the opportunity for a final drink before rushing to finish assignments before the Christmas rush begins, the scary certainty of seeing Ghostface again — only this time without his mask, which is honestly ten times worse in the sense that you can no longer pretend he is a thing, a someone, an entity drilling into you. 

He will instead be Connie Springer; handsome, charming, popular, and as you’ve been made aware, a man who has been trying to look you up online for whatever reason you’re unwilling to think of. 

And a little bit of alcohol never stopped you from making a complete and utter fool of yourself.

So far, so good: you’ve been at Invoke for an hour and a half now, and there have been no signs of Ghostface. 

Ghostface is what you have elected to calling Connie in an effort to keep him at an arms length, and so far, it has not been working in your favour. Every mention of Ghostface takes you back to the 31st, and now that you’ve been in the club for almost two hours and have made the stupid mistake of drinking two (single) vodka lemonades, you can already feel your conflicted feelings about the subject simply fading away. Which is terrible! The total opposite of what you want!

Every so often, around Porco’s attempts to seduce you, you’ve found your eyes wandering around the lower level of the club, anxiously searching for a buzzed head to appear in a crowd. It doesn’t seem as though Porco minds or has even noticed, for his conversation simply folds over into a discussion with Reiner over something you don’t understand. 

Unfortunately, however, your aimless people watching has caught someone else’s attention.

“Who’re you looking for?”

Instantly, you tense and rip your eyes off the crowd and back towards the voice, which belongs to Lynne, one of your friends from your Wednesday lectures and a good friend of Ymir’s. She smiles at you sweetly, eyebrows high.

“Oh, nobody, really.”

Lynne’s brows furrow until Ymir jumps in with, “She’s looking for Connie.”

You toss her the dirtiest glare you can conjure up, which she ignores pointedly, while Lynne’s features lift once again with recognition.

“Oh! The Spanish one?”

“I don’t know,” you tell her honestly, pinned under her eager gaze.

“With the really short hair?”

Your heart squeezes. “Oh, um—”

“—Yeah, Springer,” Ymir continues, immune to the look of pure disgrace on your face aimed in her direction. Knowing that there’s little you can do or say to keep her quiet on the matter, your shoulders sag and you lean back in your chair. By now, both Reiner and Porco have lent their ears to the cause, with both of them shuffling closer on their chairs.

Lynne sets her martini on the table. “I know him! My friend Lea has a crush on him, I think. Actually, I think a lot of the girls in the Quantum Mechanics class like him…”

Quantum Mechanics? Your eyebrows raise, not to mention with the effortless fact of Ghostface being more popular than you realised. Hardly surprising, though. If he was in one of your classes, you’d join the percentage.

“Girls take the Quantum Mechanics class?” Porco asks with a bemused laugh. “Wish I’d have known that before I picked Particle Physics. Nothing but nerds in there.”

“Don’t worry, your time picking up girls will come once you’re flying planes like Maverick,” Reiner assures him with a firm slap on the back.

“Wasn’t he in the Navy?” asks Lynne.

“There’s still time for all that,” Porco replies with a wave of his hand. While they focus on naval aviators and physics, you’re thankful the subject of Connie Springer has been put to rest, though you don’t forget to level Ymir with another dirty look before squirming in your chair and rising to your feet.

“Where’re you going?” Porco calls.

“Getting another drink,” you tell him. Your last glass of vodka lemonade had been drained a while ago. “Want one?”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” he says, and while you’d rather like to avoid getting Porco’s hopes up now that his supposed “crush” on you has been made semi-public, it’s his birthday, and refusing would make you look like an asshole.

So, you nod and hang around while he chugs the last bit of his drink before rising to his feet, coming to your side with a hand on your lower back before you both set off down the miniature flight of stairs off the platform where the tables are, and down towards the sunken, dimly lit bar.

Since you arrived here, Invoke has doubled in guests; the dance floor is thick with dancing bodies, the music so loud that you can feel it vibrating through your feet and up your legs. Around the bar, a large crowd has formed, but you’re actually thankful of Porco when he shuffles you both into place at the far end, in an effort to slowly wedge the stragglers out of place once they’ve been served their drink.

“So, how’s your birthday been?” Might as well make some conversation to pass the time. 

Porco looks back at you, perhaps surprised you spoke first considering you’ve made a brilliant effort in saying, at most, four words all night. 

“Yeah, pretty good,” he replies with a smile. His arm tightens a smidge around your waist — you’re trying to ignore it valiantly. “My dad’s coming up tomorrow. Reckon I’ll be hungover for that.”

“That sounds nice,” you say politely. “…What’re you gonna order to drink?”

He scans the menu across the bar and hums; you see his lips tighten in on themselves as he thinks, before deciding on the worst drink imaginable, being a Fireball Cinnamon whiskey. You hope the cringe isn’t visible — who the hell orders whiskey in a club? Porco, apparently.

Three minutes pass and you’ve barely made a dent in the packed crowd by the bar, and as you’re still mulling over what vodka infused drink to indulge in, somebody slides into place on the free side of you. You feel their chest brushing past your arm, spot their elbow leaning on the surface next to your forearm, and the look on your face is no doubt comical when you lift your head and face the arrival to your left.

Porco turns his head, too, and his mouth widens into a joyful grin. 

“Hey! You made it!”

With an expression of frozen surprise, you all but gape up at Ghostface as he leans beside you, his eyes flickering from you to Porco in amusement before he launches into some birthday greeting, his eyes above your head as though you aren’t even there. Perhaps a mercy on his part — you lower your eyes to the golden view of his neck and collarbones, the shirt he’s wearing uncannily similar to both Porco and Reiner. Looks like they’re matching, though there’s no contest on who is wearing it the best.

Before your mouth can water, you look away, straight forwards behind the bar. Your game of reducing him to Ghostface is forgotten. You pleadingly stare at the bartender in hopes that they might take pity on your situation and come to take your order, but to no avail.

The friends talk over your head for a while before they remember you’re still there. Although Porco’s arm is still tied around your waist, you feel Connie’s fingers brush over your arm gently, your eyes darting back towards him. Traitors. 

“How’re we doing, mama? You good?”

Your jaw loosens. 

“We should do shots,” Porco declares over the top of your head.

Connie nods, smile still wide, “Sounds good to me. What do you think?” He looks back down at you curiously. 

Though your mouth is unbearably dry, and nothing sounds less appealing than the chemical-burn of a shot scratching down your throat, you muster a nod and helplessly turn back to the bartender, who has finally made his way around the sliding length of the bar and towards the three of you. 

It’s busy tonight, and you can’t blame him for being busy, but with the birthday boy who apparently has a crush on you attached to your waist like gorilla glue, and Ghostface who is potentially interested in you after fucking you over a random suitcase sewn into your side, every minor inconvenience is beginning to feel personal.

“Let’s do tequila,” Connie suggests.

Your reaction is instinctive, “I hate tequila. Anything else, please.”

Tequila is the demon drink — it is the cause of every terrible decision you’ve ever made. It’s the small shot you took that made you unhinged on Halloween. It’s the first domino to fall before crashing into all the other dominoes put in place.

Connie’s grin widens. “Aw, come on.”

“Three tequila shots!” Porco’s already yelling the order over the bar. You almost want to scream.

The bartender slides over three little shot glasses almost overflowing with tequila, along with a little mini plate of limes that Porco brings closer with his fingers. A pool of dread is forming in real time as Connie leans around you, chest flat on your bicep, to grab his glass and yours, while Porco excitedly lifts both his glass and gaze in your direction.

Connie takes the little shot glass in his hands and lifts it up in a toast. “To the birthday boy!”

Porco says something in a jubilant cry, and for reasons unknown to you in that moment, you inch for your shot and turn to face Connie — bad move. 

You forget to even shot yours as Connie lifts the salt-lined glass to his lips, licking the rim with his eyes glued onto yours. The flat spread of his tongue around the rim is what you zero in on for a moment, shimmering with the salt in a coy manner before he swallows the shot with perfect strategy. He barely even grimaces once its down, a glittering trail of it sliding down from his lip to his chin, and it is only when he wedges the lime between his lips in a grin that you remember your shot.

Porco shudders dramatically behind you. “Ugh, nasty!” And before he can get a word in sideways about your lack of ceremony in taking your shot, you reluctantly rip your eyes off Connie and down your shot, cringing immediately at the vile flavour, even when sucking the ever-living daylights out of the lime once its burning down your throat.

“Not so bad, right?” Connie laughs, his lips so close to your ear that you can almost feel them against you. Guiltily, although you hold no obligation to entertain Porco’s rumoured interest in you, you glance over in Porco’s direction and find, with a twist in your gut, that he’s already shuffled along, loudly laughing with another group of guys further down the bar, each in matching shirts. Must be a boy thing.

“How about that drink I promised you?” he asks, though it sounds more like a statement than a request, but you nod regardless. The bartender drifts back to collect the empty shot glasses and plate and glances up at you and Connie expectantly. 

You feel him shift around you, crossing behind your back to stand on your right side, where Porco had once been situated. His left hand stays on the bar as he does this, until his arm is crossed around your back caging you inwards. 

“Vodka lemonade, please,” you request to the bartender, who has served you this drink three times now and honestly had half the mind to run the order by you anyway. Connie pulls a face, intrigued, before making the same order. “A double,” you add. You’re going to need it.

Connie’s arm tightens around you when the bartender reaches for two new glasses.

“Wasn’t it vodka orange on Halloween?” he murmurs, this time with his lips definitely brushing your ear.

You shudder slightly. “Nobody brought lemonade to the party, I made do.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies. “How much you had tonight?”

“Two singles,” you reply, “and the tequila.”

“Uh-oh, I gotta catch up,” Connie says. His weight is angled on the bar in a way that makes you feel very exposed, despite being so wrapped up in his arm that to an outsider, they wouldn’t be able to guess that you weren’t there together. 

The smile on Connie’s lips softens slightly, not as entertained as it was before, and he lets his eyes wander across your face for a moment until he says, “You look so good.”

Hesitating, you look at him and study the expression on his face. Within it, there are no signs to suggest he is lying — why would he, anyway? You’ve been trying to come up with excuses to justify Connie being here with an arm around you, as if he’s here for any other reason than because he’s interested in you. No surprise that you’ve been unsuccessful in that department. But acknowledging that he is willingly seeking you out after Halloween and more specifically, after that embarrassing shit show in the library, is a dangerous game to play.

Besides. So good — he could have just said “good” and moved on. But he didn’t. And you feel your face burning, your body sweating. Just from a little adverb.

“So do you,” you reply after a prolonged silence. He doesn’t seem too fussed by it, only more endeared. You go to say something more, and so does he, but then the bartender shuffles back with two glasses and thrusts the card machine in front of Connie. He whips out his card with no hesitation and pays for the drinks, arm loosening around you slightly as you reach for your drink and take a deep breath, spinning to survey the dance floor. 

Ymir and Reiner have since moved from the table; you see Reiner with your handbag over his shoulder, leaning against a counter that frames the dance floor with a cocky smile, Ymir by his arm. Both are staring at you with smug expressions. Reiner even throws a thumbs up, and you scowl at him, feeling lost when Connie’s arm unravels from your waist and falls down between you both, his fingers pinching at your thigh gently as he turns his head to the right and says something to Porco.

“I’ll come find you later,” Connie says loudly over the music when he looks back at you. Something hopeful flashes in his eyes — it sounds more like a promise.

Despite his hand still being wrapped around your thigh like a goddamn claw, your thighs tighten and he lets go, eyes widening just slightly enough for you to notice.

There’s only one thing you can blame when you look up at Connie, in a daze, and say, “Okay,” like it’s nothing at all…

It’s the tequila, you think adamantly. Yes. Blame the tequila.

Connie’s smile transforms into a smirk, so wide that his teeth bare and the dimples you noticed in the library blossom on his face. He dips his head with a slight laugh, and then he lifts his fingers under your chin and affectionately flicks, his thumb running softly under your chin until his nail grazes your skin on his release.

“Be good, mama,” he says, and then he turns away, sliding into Porco’s new formation of friends so effortlessly that you have to blink a few times before it registers that he’s moved along.

Your stomach folds in on itself and clenches, and you take a large gulp of vodka lemonade and bravely turn to Reiner and Ymir, who both look entirely too pleased with the progress you’re making. Maybe you’ll be lucky and Connie will stay occupied until you manage to leave without doing anything horrendously out of character like on Halloween…

But you were wrong. So unbelievably wrong.

The hallway to the club toilets is wide and cold, the music reduced in a way that makes walking down its length feel like entering an alternate dimension of sorts. Your head is spinning once you cross the threshold, every drink you’ve had since the shot with Connie and Porco at the bar taking effect. And there have been at least three more since then, not including the criminally delicious Sourz shots you took with Ymir and Reiner, and then another shot you took off Lynne’s stomach — don’t ask, because you’re not willing to talk about how you ended up doing that in front of everybody.

The men and women’s toilets are right next to one another, with the one disabled toilet suspiciously locked and guarded by a fleet of friends who are nursing a sick girl back to health with a glass of water. If you’re not careful, that’ll be you later on. 

You push past them heading for the women’s bathroom, when all of a sudden, a strangely familiar feeling of slender muscle wraps around your waist from behind and within a few seconds, you feel your feet lifting off the floor.

Shock rises up in you like a fountain, a surprised squeal leaving your lips as you watch the women’s bathroom disappear past your arm. Whoever has you bundled up has no intention of helping you on your way to open the floodgates — oh, no. Instead, the arm carries you into the men’s bathroom and around a corner, and you feel your heart rising to your throat, along with another string of surprised noises.

You’re carried past a wall of mirrors lining the sinks, and with a fleeting glance, you spy the shape of someone behind you wearing all black, and you might’ve wrangled around in panic if it weren’t for his buzzed head of hair, the sniggering in your ear. Actually, you might still wrangle around, but for a different reason.

Connie carries you to a stall at the far end that is thankfully clean, and he swiftly shuffles inside and presses you up against the door, sliding the lock in place while he laughs in your face, lips so close to yours they might as well be touching. His hand smothers into your hair affectionately while you stare up at him in bewilderment.

“What are you doing?” you gasp, still trying to process that you are, in fact, in the mens bathroom. While you’re here, you might as well admit to yourself that you expected it to be weirder in here than it is — where was the little trinket lady selling perfumes and key rings by the sinks? Where’s the puking people, the chatter, the laughter? There’s no sense of community in here whatsoever!

“Tour of the mens bathroom, you’re welcome.”

“I’m not allowed in here!”

“So what?” Connie laughs, sounding more infatuated than amused — but you blame any misreading of Connie’s behaviour on the however many gallons of alcohol running wild in your body. Yes, oh it is so easy to blame the alcohol! Connie’s nose gently pushes against yours, and you fight the dreadful urge to kiss him. 

“I needed to pee,” you say weakly.

He nods over his shoulder, “There’s a toilet right there if you can’t hold it in, nenita.”

“I’m not going to pee in front of you!”

“Why?” he laughs. Oh, he’s finding this terribly funny, and you hate that every laugh makes your stomach dip. “You’ve done it before.”

You gape at him. “That’s totally different!” 

“Not really,” he croons, and before you can protest any further, Connie leans forward and presses his mouth against yours. 

You might have swooned, if not for the door pressed against your back and his body trapping you against it. His mouth is firmly pressed to yours, the taste of his last drink strong on your lips — vodka orange, how peculiar. It feels warm, a little clumsy at the worst of times, though you’re not so much looking to fault him on his performance, your mind too busy focusing on his hands cradling your head like a prized possession, the irregular throb between your legs back to torment you.

Connie shifts a thigh between your legs, and with a lurch, your head falls back and crashes against the door rather unsexily. He sniggers again, still peppering kisses to your puckered lips, his mouth wet and shiny as he pulls away and presses a trail from your lips to your cheek, down to the slope under your earlobe down your neck.

Your heart is drumming erratically in your chest, your head spinning for a multitude of reasons. If you weren’t currently sandwiched in a toilet cubicle, you’d be incredibly turned on — actually, where you are is inconsequential. You know for a fact that you’re wet and it’s Connie Springer’s fault. 

Your body sags slightly, each kiss pressed to your neck burning you like a naked flame. Connie’s hands find themselves all the way down by your thighs, pulling up the useless little skirt you’ve decided to wear for the special occasion of Porco’s birthday. Not for any reason in particular, of course, other than because you looked exceptional in it.

Connie’s teeth push against your skin as he grins, fiddling his fingers near your panties. With a skirt that short, he wonders why you bothered in the first place. He wiggles a finger up to your crotch and laughs to himself when it’s wet.

“I love these short skirts, mama,” he says quietly.

Of course, Halloween’s short skirt had been solely part of the costume, but today, there’s no real excuse for just how short is actually is.

“This Pock’s birthday present?”

You whimper, but only because Connie moves his fingers away and presses his hips up against you. His nose prods your earlobe, and you feel just how hard he actually is beneath his trousers now that he’s aligning his chest with yours. 

“No,” you say rather defensively. “It’s for me.”

“Oh, really?” he asks.

“And for you, I guess,” you hurry to add. The tequila’s talking again! 

Connie hums along to what you’re saying with keen interest, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw before he moves his lips against yours, ghosting them across your mouth while his eyes find yours in the dark.

“One of these days, I swear I’ll fuck you on something comfortable,” he tells you, and you pause for a second until it registers. His mouth curves, “just not today.”

With that, Connie lifts up your skirt and tugs down your panties, all while you stand there with your jaw hanging low, eyes wide in the thrilled rush. For a second, your hands drop to his waistline, shyly toying with his buttons.

“I think it’s real cute that you’re shy today,” Connie starts, already spreading your pussy apart with his fingers. His body loosens up when you ping the button free from the front of his trousers, as though letting you undress him. 

“I’m not shy,” you protest. You were shy before, but now you have the foolish guidance of alcohol in your system, the only reason you’re not slutting it out for him the way you were in the utility cupboard is because you can now see him, and because you’re in a club bathroom. 

On Halloween, the darkness made you more confident than it should’ve; now, you can see Connie in the very dim bathroom light, very much real, very much grinning hopefully while he stabs a finger into you, watching with joy as you gasp in pleasure.

“Shy girl,” he murmurs against your mouth. 

Although he’s unbearably close, you manage to pull down his trousers and fist at the hem of his underwear, eager to prove otherwise. Turns out you didn’t need the Halloween darkness to feel confident; all it took was a little comment from the man you’ve been thinking about fucking you for over a week, and his finger up your cunt.

Your mouth hangs open when he lazily pushes his finger in and out of you, adding a second after a few minutes and pressing a kiss or two to the corner of your mouth. Connie hears you let out a breathless whimper, his fingers curling.

“Feels just how I remembered,” Connie mutters.

“God.”

It takes real effort not to moan out loud in the cubicle. Your hands fly around his wrist, hidden between your thighs comfortably, and you keep your eyes closed as you ever so slightly grind your hips backwards and forwards. Without even opening them, you know that Connie is looking at you darkly, his gaze so heavy you can feel it in the same realm his fingers are — his looks are sexual all on their own, you’re amazed to discover. 

You bite your lip, braving a look at the man in front of you. Connie’s cool and collected, his expression as impassive as his Ghostface mask was, and by some twist of fate, you feel no embarrassment or urge to hide away when you look into his eyes, those little shadowed beads staring almost boredly into you. Though, you know he’s far from bored — his dick is so hard between his legs it looks painful, and you glance down at it, reaching for it with your hands.

Connie flinches when your hand comes into contact with his cock, the warmth of your fingers unexpected as you run one finger over the tip, your other hand wrapping around the base of his dick. This you never had to do on Halloween; back then, he’d just ushered you in the cupboard and bent you over. Must have been rock solid under his cloak, brushing the tip against your panties until you all but begged him to fuck you.

“Not so shy now,” you sneer at him.

Connie kisses you with a grin. “You’re so brave for touching my cock, honey. Nice job.”

“Thanks.” 

His mouth wanders again, but your confidence is coming back in a giant wave; not long after Connie’s got his fingers pruned with your wetness, a cocky and drunken smile on his face, you reluctantly force his hand away and watch the smile slide off his face when he looks up at you in alert.

Whatever he is about to say is cut short when you sink to your haunches and find Connie’s dick level with your eyes. Immediately, Connie’s hands rise from below to above, smoothing around your head and cheeks as you assess the mission stood tall before you. 

There’s no time wasted on stalling; Connie can’t help but let out a quiet moan when you take more than half of his dick into your mouth at once.

In your head, you keep telling yourself to watch him, gauge every reaction until they’re things to get more drunk off, but even after a minute or so of watching him, your lips tight around his cock, you feel an embarrassed flush work its way from your cheeks to your neck. 

The little flat circle of light is behind his head, his face coloured with shadows, and you can only see his eyes due to the glint of them flashing in the dark. You find, unsurprisingly, that it excites you — looking for the face you know is there somewhere, uncertain of what he looks like as you suck his cock.

Connie’s hands tighten slightly around your head, his legs widening apart as he stables his swaying body. His thumb brushes across your neck before curling up to your lower lip, curled against his dick, and he hisses, so quiet that you almost miss it. Then, he says something in Spanish and pulls your face closer to him. 

You feel his dick brush the back of your throat right as you gag with the length of him, your thumb tightly wrapped in your palm. Not that it works — each time he pulls out and thrusts his dick back in, you retch, the reflex hitting, which only makes him moan harder.

“Shit, mama,” he groans, voice a little strained but far from tuckered out. You glance up around tears; his head is leaning to the side, his cheek practically glued to his shoulder, and a glint of saliva on his lip tells you he’s wide-mouthed, overcome with pleasure. 

You didn’t suck his cock on Halloween, there’d been no time for it. His eyes flicker down and find yours, the light hitting him just right, and you whimper around him, a hand cautiously coming to the base of his dick to save you from another round of gagging.

“Gotta say,” he rasps, grunting when he jerks his hips back against your mouth. This time, you adjust; your tongue is flat against his shaft, running along the vein bolting across it while he staggers and falls still. His head straightens as he looks down at you appreciatively, “I love looking at you like this.”

You hum. He can interpret it however he likes, which you suppose he does because he grins, chuckles to himself in satisfaction, and gently slaps his hand across your cheek. It barely hurts, but you put on a show to whine around him and wrinkle your nose, which he seems to like. He moans loudly, running his thumb across every feature he can reach without accidentally removing himself from the wet hole he’s buried inside. 

“I liked my shy girl, but you just look so fucking pretty when you’re actin’ like a slut.”

Your brows raise, though you can’t say you didn’t expect that. After all, you’d dug out your sluttiest skirt from first year just for Porco’s birthday, all whilst trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t for him because you knew he’d be there. The affectionate way he’d called you “slut” on Halloween echoes in your mind. You knew nothing about Connie, and yet you’d read him like a book.

You feel your body inching slowly back against the door, and you wouldn’t be shocked if your shoes were visible underneath the stall door from the outside. It had been the most trivial thing about getting on your haunches to suck Connie’s cock, but all of a sudden, you’re reminded of where the fuck you are and your heart stammers, your hand loosening around his dick.

Fortunately, Connie doesn’t misread this. Instead, he pulls himself out from your throat with a quiet curse and pulls at your hands so you’re up on your feet. Slightly off balance, you wobble in his arms as he presses a wet kiss to your mouth, his hands wrenching around your thighs and lifting you up off the floor once more. 

You snake your arms around his neck, hands brushing against the bleached fuzz atop his head, while Connie reaches between his legs for his dick and slides it until he finds the wet folds of your pussy. You moan into his mouth happily, the tip of his dick sliding between you, lapping up all your juice like a tongue. 

With one arm wrapped underneath you, holding you up around his waist, he quickly reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a glossy packet, a condom he took out of his wallet in a hurry whilst watching you set off in the direction of the bathrooms.

At least one of you is responsible — you’d forgotten about it completely, and you get comfortable and stable on his hip while he tears open the packet with his teeth and folds it over his cock.

“You came prepared,” you say to fill the silence.

He laughs through his nose. “We both knew it was gonna happen.”

Did you? Hoped for, maybe — knew, not so much. 

“We didn’t use it last time,” you point out.

“Rookie mistake. Won’t happen again, angel.”

Rookie — you almost laugh. 

You run a finger across the nape of his neck where his buzzed hair ends, watching him shudder as he makes sure the condoms on properly, “Just this once, then.”

Connie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Oh, you’re precious.”

Then, now that his tip is back pressed against your entrance, he lines himself up with a grin and pushes you down. Your legs are tight around his waist, no doubt strangling him, but now that you’ve taken a seat on his dick, your jaw slackens even wider and you forget where you are again, moaning so loud that Connie has to come forward and kiss you just to keep you quiet.

He laughs into your mouth, wildly entertained by the fit of your bodies, his body relaxing now that his dick is back somewhere wet and warm. Like Halloween, you’re tight, which feels miraculous considering how many times your fingers and toys have been shoved up there since that night, trying to find an alternative to having to seek him out, hoping to forget he existed and simply replace his legacy with something inanimate. Failure was met. Here you are.

You’ve never been fucked against a toilet stall door before, and you find with slight shyness that you don’t quite know what to do. Keeping your eyes on his and arms wrapped around his neck, you struggle to drag yourself up and down off his dick, though he seems very content with doing all the work himself, and you quickly let him.

Connie pistons his hips back up into you, going so deep that a tight wheeze leaves your mouth straight into his. He remains as cocky as he has been all night, the corners of his mouth curved upwards as he watches you with a narrowed gaze. 

The stall door rattles dangerously behind your back, the plastic rattle filling your ears as Connie picks you back up higher, his mouth flushed against your own to quell your pleasured noises. What he wouldn’t give to actually hear them one day.

Your cunt clenches around him and he groans, tongue flicking up past yours as he rearranges you on his cock. Your chest brushes up against his; how he desperately wants to rip off your top and shove your tits in his face, to leave little bites across your skin like a brand. Forgetful, you reach an arm up and grab the top of the stall door, taking more of him inside of you as a result. Not like there’s anyone to see you, anyway; unlike the joyful hubbub of the women’s bathroom, the men seem careless of coming in here tonight. 

Your legs tighten around Connie as he daggers himself into you, winding the knot in your stomach tighter until it feels as hard as his dick is up your snatch. He hisses, his arms buckling as your back slides precariously down the door — but he doesn’t want to let up. No, you’ve both been daydreaming about each other enough times to know that this simply isn’t enough.

Connie’s just about to hike your leg higher up his body when a cacophony of laughter sounds across the bathroom, and in an instant, your hand snatches off the top of the door and he scurries to catch you so you don’t fall to the floor with a fright. Your eyes are blown wide with the horrifying realisation that people are coming in — you spoke too soon.

Connie pulls himself out of you, clamping a hand over your mouth as you cry out, the tight fit of his dick felt now he’s gone. Then, he spins you around and is left with no other choice than to bend you over the toilet. The lid is closed and you cock a leg up on it instinctively, your hands clawing at the shelf above the tank. 

There’s simply no time to spend being a snob about the setting. It’s a downgrade from the utility cupboard, but considering that was where you first let Connie fuck you, you can’t be too disgraced by your second encounter being in a toilet cubicle. 

Third times a charm, right?

Connie bends you over, his hand sliding from your mouth and sliding to your ass. Both of his hands hold you in place while he fumbles back for your hole, and once he finds it, quivering in anticipation, he plunges back inside, glancing at you as you very quietly let out a breath once his dick sinks inside. 

Like old times, he fits in there like a man made for it, the stretched burn of his dick gone now that you’re once again familiar with the shape and size of him.

Suddenly aware of the people using the bathroom, you bite your inner cheek desperately, hoping to remain as quiet as you possibly can when a man like Connie is fucking himself into you. A flame of arousal burns inside of you as the voices grow louder, more rambunctious. Connie clenches his teeth and smiles, trying not to laugh when the voices begin to talk, oblivious to you both.

You can’t stop. Not now.

You feel him settling in your lower stomach, your ass slamming down on his skin with a slap  so sudden it makes you toss your head back to look at Connie with wide eyes. His smile splits apart, silent laughter falling from his mouth as he stills in place. 

Nobody seems to have heard — if they have, they are minding their own business. 

Connie shakes his head at you slightly as if in assurance, and you clamp your teeth down so hard on your bottom lip that Connie has to nod his head up to force you to look away. Your eyes return to the peeling paint of the walls, trying so eagerly to keep the knot tightening in your tummy from unravelling in ropes of white. 

Connie shifts a hand up to his abdomen, and you feel his knuckles against your ass to keep the sound of slapping skin from rippling out across the bathroom. Whoever’s here is loyally hanging around the urinals on the parallel side, a few others talking over the sound of running sinks. 

Connie bristles when you clench harder around him, desperate to keep your mind and body in tact. Your leg shifts, letting Connie sink deeper ever so slightly, the tip of him pushing past an untouched boundary.

God, you want to scream; yell, cry, moan out and let everyone know. But you don’t. Your mouth hangs open and a silent scream comes out, your face twisted up in pleasure as Connie quickens. His dick spears into you like a machine, so perfect in rhythm that you’re amazed you’re able to stay so quiet. You do whimper, however, so quietly that the people outside would have to be pushed up against the door to hear it. 

You knock your head back, braving a look over your shoulder at Connie, keeping your cool when you find his eyes are already looking at you, glazed over in a kind of hunger made visible now you’ve turned around to face the fall of the light. A little bead of sweat lines his neck, and you crane even further to look at your ass bouncing off his hand. His other hand creeps around from your waist between your legs, where his thumb and finger flick and twist at your clit. 

You twitch violently, the build up of tension so strong that you can feel a heat rising up from the balls of your heel up your legs. You look at Connie pleadingly, an unspoken message sent from your eyes into his. Connie’s brows raise as he pounds into you silently, playing dumb. But when you accidentally whimper a little louder than expected, he can’t hide his amusement. 

Of course, he knows you’re close. If your shaking legs weren’t enough indication, then the way your cunt is clutching him like a vice has given you away. Luckily for you, he’s not absurdly far behind — you feel better than any cunt he’s been in before, and he doesn’t think it would take much for him to coax one out of him whenever you were involved. 

Connie squeezes your ass with his hand, abandoning his safety assurance of remaining quiet, and now that the taps are back on and the music has picked up a bit outside, Connie speeds up relentlessly.

Your hands slide from the edge of the shelf up to the wall, and with nothing to grab, you slump ungracefully and do your best to keep upright. His cock burrows in deeper, tip prodding against a spot that makes you carelessly moan out loud, but that doesn’t matter anymore. 

You can hear the sound of your ass slapping against him as your bodies connect, his grunts more pronounced now he can afford a bit of noise with the taps.

He doesn’t even care if they can hear, as long as it’s not a bouncer determined to kick you both out of the club. Connie doesn’t even spare more than a second entertaining the idea before he falls back into the wickedly cosmic feeling of your pussy around his dick. He would happily put himself up here every day of the week if he had the chance.

Meanwhile, you feel a bubbling sort of pain in your lower stomach, the knot unwinding slightly until your legs shake uncontrollably, a white rush of heat blinding you as you give way. Thankfully, Connie catches you and holds you up, feeling your pussy heat up with pleasure as you cry out and cum around his cock. You immediately silence yourself and clamp your mouth closed, but the taps silence outside and you fear the damage may have already been done.

Connie hasn’t caught the silence of the taps yet. He pulls your hips back so that he continues to push his tip against your spongey walls, feeling the ribbons of your cum dribbling down both of your legs, down the length of his fingers as he toys with your clit like a button. His chest rises and falls heavily as he mumbles to himself, like trying to contain a whispery moan, until he can’t any longer. 

Connie spears in and out, and in, and out, your pussy clenching up sensitively as he finishes his tempo and slams back into you with a final drag. He bows his head, groaning as he cums, the condom filling with his seed warmly. He remains inside of you for a moment, shuddering through the tremors of your orgasms, eyes closed tightly as he twitches. You flinch as his dick jolts inside of you, and tossing your head over your shoulder tiredly, you wait patiently until he pulls his eyes open and finds your gaze eagerly looking at him.

He laughs breathily, ears trained outside the door. For a second, it’s clear, until both of you hear a very downtrodden, “What the fuck” from someone at the sinks, and he has to reign in his laughter in an effort to gaslight the stranger into thinking they imagined the sound of you both cumming.

Ordinarily, you would have been ablaze with disgraced horror at the thought of someone hearing you being fucked. But now, with Connie’s endeared gaze on your face, his smile the kind of smile you’d want to do sinful things for, you find yourself shaking with bemused laughter. 

Of course, it’s the tequila. Totally the tequila, and not because you secretly enjoy being a slut for Connie Springer.

“Still a slut?” you ask. God, you almost sound desperate for him to say yes!

Connie sniggers, running his hands up your arched back. “Biggest slut I ever saw.” Your smile widens happily. “Look at you grinning about it.”

“Sorry,” you say earnestly, tightening around him as you try to heave yourself up. Connie hisses unexpectedly and pulls himself out of you. He reaches to the side and unravels a few squares of tissue, using it to kindly wipe between your legs. You stop him midway, “I’ll take that pee now. Turn, please.”

Connie laughs and throws his hands up in surrender, spinning on his feet after grabbing more tissue to dry the slick juices off his dick. You take pleasure in staring at the shaped curve of his ass as he does this, half-disappointed when he reaches for his underwear and trousers and pulls them up over whatever goods you were marvelling over.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Connie says offhandedly.

“Don’t care,” you tell him, wiping up and flushing. You did a valiant job in keeping all that in as he was fucking you — well, you wouldn’t want a repeat of squirting down his Halloween costume, would you? “We’re not there yet.”

He looks over his shoulder as the toilet flushes. “How ‘bout you let me take you out sometime so we can get there?”

You smile at him, “You want to see me pee that badly?”

Connie rolls his eyes, turning his body so he’s facing you as he pulls you into his arms. “Not what I meant.”

“I know,” you laugh, unable to help yourself when you lean forwards to peck his lips. His eyes widen happily, the dimples deepening on his cheeks. “Ask me in the morning.”

“How? You blocked me, remember,” Connie says, sighing with an emphasised sadness. He locks his hands behind your back, caging you against his chest.

“I did no such thing.”

“If I look right now, I’ll be unblocked, then?”

You nod, nose brushing his. “You will.” You unblocked him out of morbid curiosity before heading to the club with Ymir and Reiner. 

Connie hums loudly, brushing a kiss over your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. His arms squeeze slightly around you before he gives in and releases you, reaching round to slide the lock free. He then pulls it open, wedging next to you before creating a gap for you to leave first, like a true gentleman.

“I can’t go out first,” you tell him. “What if someone sees me?”

“We’ll walk together,” Connie offers, already ushering you out of the cubicle. As you step out, he hurriedly fiddles with the back of your skirt, plucking it out from where its caught in your underwear and he follows your quick steps to the sinks. 

Despite your anxious desperation to flee the scene without being caught, you stop by the sinks and press the tap on, coating your hands in a generous amount of soap before glancing at him.

“You, too.”

He sniggers. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know we just fucked in a toilet cubicle, but there are still germs in here,” you fuss, scrubbing your hands. “I touched the wall.”

“I only touched you.”

“Scrub.”

He slathers his hands in soap and rinses them under the water, only looking up in the mirror when someone steps into the bathroom behind you and starts with a noise of surprise once he sees you bent over the sinks.

“Um,” the guy starts. When you look up, you freeze.

“She’s drunk,” Connie says smoothly, then gestures to the cubicle you were just in, “don’t go in that one. Vomit everywhere. Poor thing.”

“Oh, okay,” the guy replies, shrugging before stalking off to the urinals. Men are really such simple creatures. 

You watch him go in the mirror and look at Connie questioningly. He shrugs. He leans over to the paper towels and pulls two out, handing you one. Then, once your hands are dry, his arm returns around your waist for the mutual walk of shame out of the bathroom and back into the club.

Connie says, his mouth pressed to your head, “So where’d you wanna go?”

Your heart thumps nervously. “No preference…”

He tuts. “Think on it.” You will, thanks for the pointer. 

Connie’s arm tightens around you in a way you can’t explain once you round the corner and step back out into the wide hallway, which fortunately seems less busy than it was when you last saw it — with the not so fortunate exception of Porco stopping in his tracks a few feet away from your both, his eyes jumping between Connie’s arm and your face wildly before his mouth hangs open dumbly.

Connie smiles normally. “Hey, big boy. You alright?”

Your body is tense with nerves — not even a day ago, you were being told of Porco’s rumoured crush on you; not even a few hours ago, he’d had his arm around you at the bar. Your feet shuffle uncomfortably, guilt rising, until you watch Porco’s shock expression morph into one of morbid curiosity, his brows arched in and upwards while a shocked smile takes shape on his lips.

Thankfully, he looks amused, nowhere close to annoyed or hurt like you had expected. He laughs, at first slightly and then uncontrollably, before he holds his stomach and steps closer with the bathroom in mind.

“What the fuck,” he wheezes out. You’re just happy he looks in good spirits, all things considering. It’s one thing for the girl you might like to be fucking someone else, and another thing for that someone else to be one of your best friends. “I’m good. Are you guys good?”

Connie flashes Porco a winning smile, one that makes it look like he has won a great victory whilst simultaneously making you feel like you’re missing something.

“I think so,” Connie replies, sparing you a glance out the corner of his eye.

You gulp, trying to find the words to say.

“You don’t need to explain,” Porco urges quickly, seeming far too entertained than normal. He walks up to you both and steps around you, “Literally.”

He tosses you a warm and genuine smile before vanishing around the corner, and only after he’s gone do you look back at Connie, torn between being relieved and ashamed.

“We have his blessing,” Connie says with a firm nod, and you hold back a scoff and roll your eyes, pinching the skin of his wrist.

“You’re so mean. It’s his birthday!”

“I know. That’s why his blessing is so important.”

You shake your head, ignoring his laughter in your ear as you try to march off back into the club, his arm still glued around your waist like a permanent attachment. You even find that with every step back into the buzz of the club, the expected drilled shame of being fucked by Connie never comes. Instead, you only feel a content glow widening in your chest, painting your skin, the promise of a date hanging over your head like floating stars and clouds. 

Thank you tequila, you think. And, in a way, thank you Eren, for the Halloween party that led Ghostface between your legs and Connie Springer into your life.

━━━━━★. *· @gorehsk @arminarlertssword & @madstronaut for simply being the reason why i wrote this sequel

[fayevalcntine]

Anyway I've been kind of following the press releases for The Count of Monte Cristo (2024) (French) movie and some potential spoilers that I kind of want to air out:

The film seems to be marketed as "much darker" in terms of focusing on the revenge aspect, which I don't mind, but some other stuff give me pause as to how they're gonna handle The Count as a character because the way the actors talk about him, he almost sounds weirdly irredeemable, or rather just completely incapable of still loving and caring about people? Which is the exact opposite of how he behaves in the book..... he wants to be cold and completely detached but fails each time because he a) forms close connections with people like Haydée and Maximilien, even comes to deeply respect Albert despite trying to talk himself into not caring about the boy and b) is meant to question his own revenge plot because it inadvertently causes the death of an innocent child

Apparently Haydée is 'torn between her loyalty for the Count and the love of her life' with said love of her life being.....guess who? Albert de Morcerf. There's no mention of a court scene so far where she accuses Fernand of being a traitorous officer and murdering her father, instead Edmond apparently gets her to seduce Albert but then Haydée falls in love with him for real? I once wrote a post complaining about this type of idea I've seen others mention as a "potential fix" for the plot but taking aside my issue with Albert/Haydée as a pairing in any sense, in this context it's almost doubly bizarre and I feel like the writers took so many different elements from the book, namely Albert's blind trust and admiration towards the Count and the forbidden love story between Maximilien and Valentine, and decided to go for a much more digestible change for the story, I guess? The actress who plays Haydée also mentions that she wants to "break free from the Count's psychological grip", which..... you can say a lot of stuff about Edmond/Haydée as an overall dynamic, particularly in him inserting her in his plan for revenge, but the big thing noted in the book is that Haydée makes the decision herself to testify against Fernand, and even thinks that the Count will disapprove of her for this. He also does genuinely care for her and wanted her to inherit everything he owns should he die.... the whole point of him taking her in is that he wanted her to have the life she was entitled to before Fernand's actions stripped it away from her.

The film also seems to have merged several different characters related to Villefort into one, namely Benedetto/Andrea and Bertuccio, since Andrea (in the film) is also under the Count's wing and seems to accompany him as a possible servant in some scenes. This isn't a bad idea in theory, though I'm pretty sure that he ends up dying when he goes after Villefort at the court house, so I presume he's also supposed to represent Edouard's death? My main question is when this scene even happens in the film because apparently, there's a final sword fight (likely the one between Fernand and Edmond), so the death that makes Edmond question his entire plot isn't even at the end of his plan?

This brings me to my next point which is why are Fernand and Edmond even doing a sword duel in the first place.... apparently the film has Fernand come from a rich family already, and he's known and been friends with Edmond prior to his imprisonment, so w/e, classic trope of CoMC adaptations at this point. But the duel and Haydée's 'seduction' plot just makes me think that for all the apparent attempts at centering her as a character more, these writers took out a significant scene related to her character that means a lot FOR her, namely the court scene, and instead centered Edmond's feelings of betrayal towards Fernand. I know that this is likely to also focus a lot on Edmond's lost life with Mercedes, but Fernand isn't even such a significant focus of Edmond's ire in the book as much as the other two men are.

The movie doesn't seem to end with Mercedes and Edmond getting back together, which I at least appreciate if this Edmond is "much darker" than even in the book, but if he isn't with her or isn't dead by the end, what exactly is the point of him going off alone? I presume this is the ending if Haydée/Albert are supposed to represent Maximilien/Valentine and the Count "gives them support" for being together, but Edmond was pretty much contemplating suicide until Haydée stopped him in the book. The point is that his focus on avenging the past was his only assumed reason for living, but there's a chance for him to simply live on with those who genuinely care about him as he is now. Without him trying to make amends through Maximilien and Valentine and Haydée indicating she will only live if he lives, I can't really see the film making a good argument for why Edmond wouldn't contemplate suicide instead of living on.

Apparently Villefort has a Bonapartist sister (I presume this character is meant to replace his father in the film) whom I also think Edmond saves from a shipwreck that has been shown in the trailers. I've zero clue how this movie is going to fit a new character in this while doing all of this to the other more significant characters, but that seems to be a general trend with this scriptwriter duo.

Only minor positive thing so far is that Eugenie IS included for once, and they didn't omit her being a lesbian.

[mrbinglee]

i've seen go ahead (以家人之名) before and just caught up with the 6 released episodes of the korean adaptation, family by choice (조립식 가족), and so far i'm loving family by choice. apparently a lot of go ahead fans were skeptical about how the kdrama could adapt 40 episodes of story into 16 episodes, but frankly i thought go ahead was a bit long anyway, and with maybe the exception of the first episode*, i like the pacing of the family by choice adaptation so far.

(*the first episode i will admit felt a bit rushed and i was mentally checking off all the various plot point boxes as they covered them, but from the second episode onward i was able to watch it without mapping back to the original - that is, i felt the adaptation stood on its own.)

(another aside: family by choice gets points for having a good english title, which unfortunately i cannot say for go ahead. i complained about it in another post lol but basically the chinese title, 以家人之名, translates to, "in the name of family," which has a beautiful solemnity and thematic relevance to it that "go ahead" simply does not capture. "family by choice" as a title is perfect - this is literally what the drama is about.)

anyway i like the way the kdrama is adapting the original story so far - especially the mom characters, in all their terribleness. they're still cruel and neglectful, but they feel more believable as characters in this story, particularly sanha's mom. the reason why she is The Way She Is is made quite clear, undiluted from too many plot points of too many episodes. i won't give away spoilers about the moms here, but just know that however bad they are in family by choice, their counterparts in go ahead are like 1000% more cartoonishly villainous, to the point where the ridiculousness actually took me out of the story.

there's one other major adaptation choice i like so far, but it's a spoiler so i'll leave it under the cut:

this is probably an unpopular opinion, but i was never convinced by the romantic relationship between ling xiao and li jianjian in go ahead. i can narrow it down to 3 reasons: (1) i felt that the actor playing ling xiao was always a bit stiff and awkward, and was the weakest link among his costars. (2) we the audience spent the first third of the cdrama being shown again and again that ling xiao and jianjian are not only family, but specifically brother and sister, but then after the time jump, we're told, "well, they're not literally brother and sister..." which was not enough for me to get rid of the ick factor. (3) i was never convinced that jianjian actually had romantic feelings for ling xiao, not because of the actress (tan songyun was amazing) but more because of the writing and the way they had her come around to accept his feelings.

in comparison, in family by choice, (1) hwang inyoup is absolutely eating as kim sanha - this is my first drama with him and i am fully impressed. (2) rather than emphasizing that sanha and juwon are brother and sister, the kdrama seems to be emphasizing more that they are family, period, which has a multitude of fluid definitions and gives room for their changing relationship in the future; this post by user itssomessy also points out nicely how sanha's vs. haejun's different introductions into juwon's family hint at who is most important for them. i also feel that with the faster pace of only 16 episodes, the kdrama is showing sanha's feelings sooner than i think they did for ling xiao, so we get to sit with it much earlier, but they're also showing his feelings in a way that feels more natural to me than how they did for ling xiao. lastly, for (3) we'll have to see! i think jung chaeyeon is doing fantastic so if it falls flat it might be down to the writing. i'm nervously optimistic...

[leolithe]

Something I find really interesting about the Lotus' dialogue after the Lotus Eaters is her use of the word 'witch'.

"I was the Daughter. I became the Mother. In time, I shall be the Witch, blind once again, empty of all but wisdom." -Lotus

'Witch' has very specific connotations. Close enough to another similar word that I can't help but feel like it has to be a deliberate reference to the Triple Goddess ─ Maiden, Mother, Crone. These are figures from neopaganism that symbolizes the stages of a woman's life. Eleanor (proto-Nyx) even outright calls her the triple-faced goddess. While it definitely could just refer to Lotus, Margulis and Natah, what if we have yet to see her final form?

She was first Natah, the daughter of Hunhow. Then she assimilated Margulis' form and became the Lotus, mother to the Tenno. And now, she is to be the witch. Even urging us not to mourn should she turn into something we don't recognize. I'm very excited to see what exactly that will look like for her and how her role could potentially change. The quest made a point that the Operator will be staying behind while Drifter is the one chosen for the quest to 1999. Maybe instead of the mother-child dynamic that we've had for a decade, we'll get to see what kind of relationship she might have with the Drifter (<-copium)

I'm not much of a Greek Myth Lorehead but I've read up a bit on The Triple Goddess Hecate (who I've been told that, in Hades 2, was voiced by Amelia Tyler... who is now also voicing our dear Eleanor Nightingale. Worth mentioning cuz u just know rebb was kicking her feet and giggling at being able to pull that together). Hecate's status as a gatekeeper type figure, as i understand it, is very interesting when u apply it to the Lotus...

I'm just thinking about how meta the whole "Lotus' ascent to godhood" plot thread is. It's like a direct parallel to her voice actress' "intern to creative director" journey LMAO. It's a bloody golden opportunity and i hope they're cashing all in on Goddess!Lotus and everything it'll entail...

Not to mention lorewise and what it means for the Lotus' own arc!! To be someone constantly being pulled around by others to fulfil their own purposes, having her own wants neglected, shamed, belittled... To becoming a Witch/Crone/Gatekeeper a la Hecate -- now the one potentially capable of denying or approving others' needs and goals...? Ugh, that's so fucking JUICY. What a bloody incredible character.

Lotus mentions becoming "empty of all but wisdom", and I've seen someone theorize that she'll become even more emotionless and distant as a shield against Wally because it thrives on emotions. This theory scares me because it could very well happen... Not like Space Mom already has a history of being distant and reluctant to tell us how she's feeling... *Sniffles*...

There's also the theories about assigning Natah/Lotus/Margulis as the Maiden/Mother/Crone...

The most surface level reading would be Margulis = Maiden, Lotus = Mother, Natah = Crone, but imo when people make this read they're kinda hinging on their appearances lol. Pretty Margulis, "Ugly" Natah... Maybe even just "Good mom who can do no wrong" and "evil Sentient who led part of an assault on the Origin System".

I would like to think that it isn't that shallow, buuuut their personalities do fit the bill when u bring the "phases of a woman's life" theme to it.

Margulis' naivete, or the shattering of it, as the Maiden:

"No, Ballas, no more destruction. Maybe they're meant to save us."

"You lied to me, Ballas. You're no different than the rest of them."

Natah's headstrong wisdom, or her desire for it, as the Crone:

"I am the witness, the victim, the judge. My family has returned. Your trial, soon to begin."

"The times ahead will need decisiveness. Power."

And Natah does die in TNW. Her death is a very big part of the quest lol. The "End of life" theming of the Crone fits her very well... And the very first "gatekeeper/crone judges and makes the decision for you" thing she did was killing ballas. So i get it!

Inversely... You could also assign Natah as the Maiden and Margulis as the Mother because of the simple "Natah was the Daughter, now I am the Mother" quote. After all, Lotus before TNW was living very much under Margulis' shadow, assimilating into her like you mentioned. This read leaves Lotus to be the Crone; the empty, wise Witch we have yet to see.

The more i write this the more I wanna say: Damn. These 3 were always meant to converge into each other. Their stories are all sides of each others' respective coins and it almost feels arbitrary to chuck them into strict roles, even if symbolic.

I definitely think we're gonna see her "Triple Goddess Final Form" in the future. It's too good a story beat. Too sexy. DE HAS to do it. I have my platinum ready. Give me all the skins.

As for the DrifterLotus copium....... Hehehe. I don't think DE will ever do anything romantic/sexual with them. i think they're just gonna cap their relationship off at "they care immensely for each other" because they might be concerned about the questionable pseudo incest implications looming over anything to do with Lotus and the Tenno.

Like don't get me wrong; Drifter is their own person and Lotus of all people would be comfortable with the concept of "people having identical faces won't make them the same person". I just feel like DE might not be willing to play with them in that way. For perfectly understandable reasons... The Player Tenno are very much "colouring book" characters for the OC lovers so it seems smart to keep them relatively open-ended.

But. Don't worry. Check my AO3 at the end of the week. I hope you'll find something that brings u even a little bit of cheer ;3

[musashi]

Musing on Movie!Nessa's Future in Part 2

A lot of people simultaneously expressing confusion alongside their celebration of Nessarose finally being played by a wheelchair user, because her being able to walk in act 2 is obviously a huge plot point--the spell cast on the shoes is what turns them into the ruby slippers which establishes the continuity and leads to a bunch of other plot threads, etc etc.

This is obviously the reason a lot of people give for her being played by an able-bodied actress in the past, it's obviously a bullshit reason because a huge majority of wheelchair users are ambulatory and can walk and stand for varying periods of time just fine. So like. They could have still had an ambulatory wheelchair user playing her, but I digress: the point is she is played by Marissa Bode in the movie. A wheelchair user, hurray!

These are just the opinions of someone who is not a wheelchair user so take them with a grain of salt (and please speak up if you have your own stuff to say as a member of the community!) but from what I can see as someone who's been insane about Wicked for about 15 years now, the movie did a lot of good for Nessa's character. Previously, the ableism toward her was baked into the metanarrative itself, but it's now been moved to a more realistic place--the characters within the story.

Previously Nessa was treated with little agency or autonomy not only by the characters but by the people writing the story. Most notably of all, her chair is constantly being grabbed and wheeled around by other characters. The movie corrects this--she is very rarely wheeled around except by her father (and he is called out for his coddling/infantilizing of her by Elphaba within 2 minutes of their introduction) and the one time a stranger tries to do this in what reads even to me as a genuinely traumatizing and far too familiar scene for any wheelchair user to have to sit through, Elphaba immediately fucking goes apeshit and starts throwing fucking furniture. Nessa herself also tries to advocate for herself and tell the professor in question to stop kidnapping/assaulting her and is, again, realistically not listened to.

This last bit obviously happens in the stage musical too but Nessa's own agency is much less pronounced. The movie adds little things here and there to give her more of that agency--Elphaba's protectiveness is much less "I have to help and watch over my poor disabled sister" and much more "I have to make sure no one underestimates or takes advantage of her." Even the plot detail that Elphaba was not there to be her caretaker but just to drop her off and make sure she got settled in her dorm adds leaps and bounds to Nessa's autonomy. Her and Boq's shared look in the opening ceremonies where they both bond beforehand at their inability to see over the crowds' standing ovation. And of course, the dance scene, where he no longer wheels her out but instead beckons her to follow him!

These little details add up in ways that are, at least in my opinion, very meaningful. They also extend to the production itself--where the sets were made accessible for Marissa and she was even allowed to do her own stunts, in her wheelchair! That part in the beginning where Elphaba levitates her was her in a harness in her fucking chair and all. Dope as FUCK.

So I am mentioning all of this because I think the people working on this movie have shown that they are unafraid to make changes to Nessa to be more respectful to her agency. The ableism she faces, which is still plentiful, is framed as such instead of just casually brushed off & baked into the narrative. By making these small changes, Nessa is not just an unfortunate stereotype of a disabled woman, but a real and fleshed-out person who is dealing with the consequences of those exact stereotypes in the society she lives in. I really liked that! I don't know how others feel about it, but I thought it was very well-shifted.

All that said, 'curing' your disabled character is obviously, like, the biggest no-no of writing a disabled character. And that plot beat is a huge one in every version of Wicked... so far. But here's the thing. We have a shot of Dorothy wearing the slippers. And they... are silver.

Why. Are they silver.

And they are silver in all of Dorothy's small little cameos. Every single one. Even though this shot, which was used primarily for promotional material to draw people in like "Hey! Wizord of Oz! This is What The Refrance!" did not make the choice to even suggest that they should ever be red. One of the most important pieces of iconography, consciously and notably absent.

I genuinely don't think Nessa's going to have her disability taken away in part 2. With how much love to this part of her has been done to the retooling of her character, I do not think it is a stretch to assume that they will find a way to advance the plot without removing her disability. I believe this because that is the right thing to do for Nessa, to ascend her character, however you feel about it--she should stay in her chair. She deserves to continue on the way she is.

I realize this little change effects a lot. But after seeing part one, I am confident they can do it and do it well and replace what the change takes away with something just as good. I have so much faith in the direction of these movies. I really, truly believe it will happen and it will be good and satisfying and perfect.

It might still happen, sure--Marissa might get a stunt double, or CGI, or some other brand of movie magic. The shoes may still get enchanted and stay silver to pay homage to the original Oz books. But I can't help but consider that idea and keep asking myself... why. That makes so much less sense. Why not give movie audiences the red slippers, draw them in with the imagery, give them one more lion cub in the bike basket or Boq talking about how much he cries or poppies putting the whole class to sleep. Why not give us the ruby slippers when you... could.

I think because this is going to be a big, long awaited improvement. And I think it is hiding there in plain sight.

[edream93]

Thoughts on The Rise of Red

Okay, these are just my thoughts that I wrote down in my note app as I watched the movie.

SPOILERS if you haven't watched "Descendants: The Rise of Red" yet:

Uma crying talking about Carlos is definitely China crying for real. It’s definitely a plot inconsistency because as far as we know Uma and Carlos didn’t have any type of relationship outside of Mal but for China and the audience, I thought it was a touching nod to Cam.

Maybe it’s just me but I feel like over the past three movies we had gotten better with the wig situations and this movie felt like a bit of a step back for some of these wigs

The special effects in Red’s first song were pretty neat for a DCOM-adjacent movie 

Maddox is kinda cute…This man is 44!?!?! 😍

Paolo Montalbano 😍 My first crush! Honestly he and Brandy and China are the only reason why I’m watching this.

Still not a total fan of Cinderella’s dress. It’s giving royal moo-moo 

Brandy and Paolo are still cute together. Like not even in a romantic way but they are definitely co-actors that have great chemistry on screen together. Like it feels like they slipped back into their characters effortless.

I’m sorry Brandy but those shoes are ugly

OMG! Chad is their son!!! They really was like, the Prince Charming had a White dad and a Black mom so of course he and Cindy can have a White son 🤣

Is it me or are there already more songs in this movie than the previous? 

Maybe it’s because it’s the only second song but I definitely expected that they would have given Rita and Brandy more to work with

I know Dylan and Thomas probably have grown out of working with Disney but I at least wish they gave a throw away line about where Harry and Gil are. Like we know at least where Mal and the others are and that Carlos apparently died. Idk, the lack of Harry’s line in Uma’s song made me miss them.

You know, for all of the fuss they made about the magic wand, the fact that the Queen of Hearts can easily cut it in half is funny to me

Is this Aladdin and Jasmin they keep cutting back to? I didn’t keep up with the movie production before it came out so maybe them being in this movie shouldn’t be surprising 

“Now make me proud, for once,” is such a hard comment to hear from a parent.

Not Chloe’s wig changing randomly 🤣

The actress playing young Fairy G definitely looks like a younger actress of the original one. Good casting.

I feel like a lot of these songs are just sing talking. Like not really singing but just them talking and like I know they did that sometimes in the previous movies but it just feels…odd

….did Chloe’s wig change…again…???

It did….

Did both of their wigs change???

Honestly, I’m underwhelmed by the costumes. I know the same designer wasn’t on this movie but eh

Ella is like… “Mom? Who you calling mom?!??!” 🤣

I forgot that since this was before Auradon they probably would take classes about magic 

Bridget’s and Red’s outfits are so far my faves

Jaladdin 🤣

“If you wanna roll together we can be a vibe” 🤣

…..Chloe’s hair changed again….Is this just her face hair or something because it’s not the hair she had in the previous scene

Morganna’s son!?!? Didn’t expect that. Again, I have been so far removed from keeping up-to-date about the production of this movie

Oh I forgot Maleficent and Hades were together at some point. Guess I just thought that was an Isle boredom fling thing

I love how this movie totally negates anything that has happened in the original movies, at least in terms of how they happened. I honestly like to think of the OG movies as royal propaganda 🤣

Okay so I think there’s three wigs that Chloe has had, a regular, a slightly more volumized one, and then what my friend calls the “chia pet” one 😅

Chloe…NO! 😫

Honestly, this portrayal of Cinderella is kinda my fave. She’s been through a lot

Okay, should have known the VK songs would be a bop

Maybe it’s just me but every time I see Hades in this, I think he looks like Chris Colfer

I feel like this movie has so many special effects which isn’t bad, it’s just interesting because I feel like big special effects were saved until the last half/battle

WIG CHANGE AGAIN!

Paolo acting his butt off to the pay the bills

Oooo that was too far Red…

Wig change

Yeah, this movie definitely has a lot more songs…😬

Also…why is her wig longer when they’re gardening? 

Are there…are there FOUR wigs?!?!?!?!

Me snorting at the captions reading -hero music playing-

Morganna’s son is missing a few brain cells. Love him.

There’s 7 minutes left….what are they gonna do in 7 minutes!

Not the Queen of Heart’s hair blowing in the wind! 😊

I know it’s not that serious in this movie, but I wonder what’s the reasoning for Red never going to Auradon now that things have changed

I’m glad the Queen of Hearts is nice and all but there should definitely be a fanfic about how Red is trying to distinguish her old reality with her new. And no, it won’t be from me. I wipe my hands clean of this series. I mean it! I’m so serious! I totally don’t have any plot bunnies in my head now! Nope! None. At. All!

Wait! Uma! Are you implying there’s going to be some - GASPS- ramifications to the time traveling!?!?!?

Final thoughts:

Maybe it’s because I’m OFFICIALLY not part of the target demographic anymore but I kind of felt underwhelmed. Like the last three movies had things I wasn’t a fan of but there were at least songs, aspects, characters, that I was a fan of. Honestly, the only person I LOVED in this one was Maddox. If you liked this movie, that’s totally fine and I hope my thoughts don’t stop you from enjoying it. I hope you have all the head cannons and fanfic ideas and amazing energizing conversations with others in the fan. If they come up with more stuff with this series (which they probably will) I might tune in but I think this, plus that Pt.2 outline of WLTF that I still owe folks will probably be my last active contribution to this particular fandom. 

Anyway, my faves of Descendants: The Rise of Red:

Uma, even if she was just serving the purpose of narrator/handing the torch from one generation to the next

The nod to Cameron

Brandy and Paolo. I LOVE them on screen together.

I actually really liked Ella and hope to see the actress, Morgan Dudley in more things

Maddox was cute but I honestly always seem to have a thing for movie/TV mad hatters (points to OUAT and the SyFy mini series Alice) 

Things I’m “eh” about:

The WIGS!!!! And the costumes but the WIGS!!! Like, if this series continues they need to fix stat!

The songs were kinda forgettable. Uliana’s song at her hideout was kinda a bop and Red’s intro song is good too but everything else was kinda “bleh”

I also feel like we didn’t really get to know Red that well or maybe I was just too distracted by Chloe’s wig.

The plot and pacing. I mean, the OG Descendants movies weren’t perfect but I feel like they typically hit certain plot beats where, as much as you can with these type of movies, it feels like the stakes are high. I guess Merlin’s office being the scene of the last “battle” and then going back to their time just felt a little anti-climatic for me.

But anywho, those are my thoughts. If you don’t agree, that’s fine, just be polite, okay? 

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (05: Post-Credits) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; allusion to depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; almost drowning, sexual content (kissing, oral, penetrative sex) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 5k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

A/N: Wrapping up this story and this world now, as I keep its meaning close to me, where this Yoongi was a source of comfort. Thank you to those who took a chance with this one. Please know that in the midst of deciding to stop writing, you told me I could keep going. 😌

It was nice to be able to write about a sport that I deeply love (yes, I am manifesting with the NBA game featured here 🤞🏽) and about a theme I’m personally experiencing. Yoongi told us to live in the present and that we can dream simple, gentle dreams, too. Let’s cheer each other on! 💜

Listen to: For All You Give (feat. Lucy Rose) by The Paper Kites || Playlist 🎶

1.5 years later

You walk past the hallways to head outside the airport, large luggage in one hand and a small one on the other. 

Your phone rings and Jimin is on the other end, asking if your flight was alright and if the weather is good. You give him a lowdown of the past 18 hours, including your lovely encounter with a Korean-American family during your Minneapolis layover. Their 6-year old is apparently a fan of yours after you did a stint of hosting her favorite Korean variety TV show, and your heart soared when she told you that she wants to be funny and beautiful like you. You found it amusing that doing cute poses and laughing your way through every episode was entertaining enough for her. 

“That’s adorable,” Jimin chirps. “I love how your fanbase gets younger every year. You started with grandparents and now you’ve got 6-year olds under your spell.”

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” You laugh. “I just hope these kids don’t watch my latest movie because it’s gonna terrify them.”

“Yeah, at least keep the variety shows to entertain the babies,” he chuckles. “I already told Hoseok that you want to guest-host again. There are a couple of shows that want you onboard.”

“Ah, that’s great,” you beam. “I need as much joy and laughter in my life after that last project. That took so much out of me.”

“It did, didn’t it?” Jimin hums. “But it’s got the media buzzing about you again. So much for that one so-called journalist who claimed that you’re one-dimensional and can’t do anything other than romance because you’re only good at being in love. Let me smack her face with all the good reviews about your latest role so she can shut her one-dimensional mouth.”

You giggle at Jimin’s words, his protective nature soothing you like it always does. You remember when that article about you came out after you starred in a mini-series, a project you had after the show you filmed in Paris, which did turn out to be your biggest break then. Your role in that drama had you falling in love with someone from a rival family, one of the show’s major plot points, and that journalist went off about your supposed versatility being premised on the emotions of being in love. You can’t really do much outside of it, she said, and it was that same day when you got the lead role for a psychological thriller, with the industry’s eyes on you to see if you’re able to handle a character that’s so different from what you’re used to. 

And well, it’s safe to say you blew their minds. Even you didn’t think you could do that well, but you pushed hard, not only to prove yourself to them but to challenge yourself, knowing that there’s more to learn and showcase even after 10 years of being in the industry. 

The reviews showed that you delivered. Critics praised your acting, saying how disturbed they felt during specific scenes, and that was a compliment for you, knowing that was the goal. The movie was even shown in a recent foreign Film Festival, and the praises are still coming; Jimin’s been the one sending you every article and post he could find, and he’s been nothing short of amazing when it comes to encouraging and praising you himself for another successful project. 

It wasn’t without its difficulties though, as getting into character meant you had to immerse yourself in its darkness, in the disturbing themes that ate away at you sometimes. It was Yoongi who’d been the one to bring you out to the light every time - sending you flowers while on set, giving you a bath after every filming so you’re not left in your own mind, holding you close whenever you slept, and driving you out during days off. It was hard but it was worth it, as you felt liberated from all the negative emotions once filming wrapped up. 

Yoongi was supportive all throughout - including all the promotions you had to do and the moments of doubt you’d have about your performance. He held your hand during the premiere and took you to the mountains for a weekend to escape it all for a while. Other than the amazing sex you had and the time away from everyone, you both spent those days  wrapped up in each other’s arms, easing back to your normal lives that didn’t include you randomly crying at night or losing sleep from your tiring schedule. 

You’d just wrapped up your promos for the film in Seoul and you’re also waiting for the next project while working on some endorsements and guesting on the side. But after the exhausting couple of months, you deserve a break, and you want nothing more than to focus on Yoongi, knowing he’s the one who’ll be needing your love and support this time. 

Jimin breaks through your thoughts and asks if the car he’d arranged has arrived.

“Not yet, but Yoongi messaged that he’s 5 minutes away,” you respond. “Thanks, by the way. I know you had to arrange all this in such short notice and had to work with Hoseok to push back all my other schedules. I know it was stressful for you, too.”

“And who said I ever minded?” Jimin replies. “I’ve spent enough time with Yoongi to know how much he takes care and supports you, and that also means I know just how much his career means to him. I’m sure you already know but nonchalant and cool he may be, he’s incredibly nervous. I just know having you there is gonna make all the difference.”

“I know,” you smile, feeling emotional at the thought. “I’m just so happy for him. He’s been sending me photos since he got here and I could just see his eyes sparkling. I’m so excited to see him in action.”

“Me, too, at least from here. We’ll be tuning in and I’ll just pretend I know shit about basketball and the NBA,” Jimin laughs. “I guess it’s weird to be cheering for the commentator and not the players but oh well. Just tell him we’re rooting for him; Jin’s gonna host watch parties in his house. We’ll invite Jungkook and Namjoon so there’ll be people who can actually explain to us what’s happening.”

You laugh at Jimin’s rambling. It’s touching to know just how much your friends have come to support Yoongi as well. You’ve to remind yourself that not long ago, they were all wary of him, given the 2 times he let you go. But they’ve seen in the past year and a half exactly what that love you treasure really looks like. You always said it was transformative for both of you in different ways, and they’ve come to witness that, too. 

They’ve seen how tough days for you were always made better whenever Yoongi was around, how negative voices were always drowned out by his gentleness and encouragement, how bouts of insecurities were easily mended by his belief in you. 

That love got you regularly going home to Daegu to see his dad and to be with yours, and to make an effort to heal the wounds with your sisters. 

That love also got Yoongi to be braver, to take chances and to make the most out of every opportunity he could find. It’s that love that supported him throughout the months that he wrote for that online sports magazine, until he became a regular guest at an online sports show. It’s what encouraged him to apply for a sports channel’s basketball analyst position; you remember the smile on his face when he got the job and the first time he appeared on TV to talk about the sport he’s loved for most of his life. It’s your shared love that got him to dream again - maybe coach a professional team in the future, perhaps become a household name in sports media. It doesn’t matter what form, you’d remind him, as long as it was in the world of basketball.

It’s that same love that’s going to hold his hand through the next 2 or so weeks, as Yoongi lives out a dream he didn’t think he’d have. As a 10-year old who’d imagined himself playing for the NBA too many times, he didn’t think that 20 years later, he’d be reporting on it as part of the South Korean media. He thinks it’s just as much a dream as any. This is the sport he loves, and he told you once that he can’t imagine his life without it. 

“Oh, I think that’s him!” You tell Jimin, as you spot the maroon car that Yoongi said he was in. “Thank you again.”

“Just call me for anything, okay?” He says on the other end. “And enjoy Boston!”

You bid him goodbye and rush to the car that stops not far from where you are. Yoongi exits and you hug him immediately, falling into the warmth that you’ve missed this past week. You were at a promotional event in Busan when he left Seoul for the US a few days ago so you didn’t get to say goodbye, but it appeased you that you could spend your break with him here. 

But more than anything, it’s the fact that you get to be part of his new world this time, and nothing makes you happier than being able to see that sparkle in his eyes that made you fall for him that first time all those years ago. There’s that confidence again, that drive. Yoongi is all kinds of beautiful everyday, but seeing him do something he loves has always been special. You’re glad you get to witness that again.

“I missed you, jagi,” he hums in your ear. How was your flight?”

“Good. I got a bit of rest,” you reply. “And I missed you, too.”

Yoongi smiles and gives your luggage to the chauffeur who loads them in the trunk. You both enter the car and sneak in a kiss for the seconds that you’re alone, and he smiles against your lips before turning to you. 

“You seem excited,” he states.

“Of course, baby. It’s the big day tomorrow. Aren’t you?”

“I’m terrified, actually,” he chuckles to mask the nervousness. “But Mr. Chan called earlier to ask how I’m feeling and he’s been so supportive, saying that his sprained ankle must’ve been a blessing in disguise if it meant I get to take his place. I did the reporting the other day during Media Day and he said I did really well, asking the players and coaches really good questions. He said if I sustain this during the entire championship series, I could be well on my way to reporting more big games even in other sports.”

“Baby, that’s huge!” You beam, turning to him to see his shy smile. “You could be reporting on the Olympics, who knows! But the NBA… this is huge for you. The fact that you’re who they thought to replace him is a big deal. It means they really see something in you.”

“I still think it’s a fluke,” he sighs. “If Mr. Chang hadn’t gotten injured, it would’ve been him. It just so happened that the other guys are either on leave or on another assignment and I was… there.”

“Then you just saved their asses! It means you get to show them how good you are, and I know you’re good. I wouldn’t be paying attention to basketball if you weren’t calling it.”

“You’re biased though,” he laughs. 

“Duh. Name one other sports commentator who knows his shit, is incredibly handsome, has such a soothing voice, and looks hot talking about people shooting balls?” You exclaim. “No one! Just you! Baby, you’re saving the industry!” 

Yoongi thinks you’re adorable when you go off like this. He always knew you didn’t actually pay attention to his games before because your eyes were only on him. Whenever you’d both watch on TV, you’re often curled into his arms, remarking that he does that same jumper smoothly or that the players are either boring or too cocky. You understand the sport, though. He knows you’re interested because you get basic terms and ask him questions. Sometimes he thinks you just want to hear him talk or analyze a play; sometimes you just giggle when he’s pulling his hair or yelling over a stupid call or when his team’s losing, but regardless of your level of appreciation for the sport, he knows you love it because he does, and that means more to him than you’ll ever know. 

He gives in though, knowing you feel strongly about his basketball commentary skills. 

“Thank you, jagi. I at least know that if I completely fail at this, you’d still think I’m hot.”

“Baby, I think you’re hot all the time. You could even model or act, you know? The industry will benefit from this pretty face,” you wink.

“Let’s say hypothetically, I do act. What happens if I have an intimate scene with someone? What would you do?” He asks, arching an eyebrow because he can almost predict what you’re gonna say. 

“I will cry,” you pout, causing him to laugh. 

It’s all hypothetical, but he can tell you’ll really be upset even if it’s something he has to live with all the time. It’s something he’s gotten used to, though. He did survive watching your scenes with Pablo where you both cuddled “naked” in bed, although he admits looking away so many times. He also made it through your mini-series where you had multiple sexually tense scenes with your co-star. He admits he likes it when you’re more clingy and affectionate after each filming and episode, and he won’t complain. 

But knowing how affected you’d be if the roles were reversed makes him a little soft. He remembers those summers years ago when you’d eye the girls who’d cheer for him during his games and how you always ran to him after to hold his hand and then kiss him intensely in the bathroom or his car. You would deny the jealous girlfriend allegations and he used to just laugh through it. It seems like nothing has changed.

“These lips are for me only,” you say, cupping his cheeks to hold him in place for a deep kiss.

“They are,” he smiles. “And I know at the end of the day, your lips are only for me, too.”

He kisses you again, no longer minding the chauffeur in the car who doesn’t seem to care that you’re being affectionate in his backseat. 

“They are,” you hum. “They’re for your neck, and your chest, and—” you palm his cock — “for this.”

“Jagi,” he laughs, already used to your antics. 

You’re usually like this after being away. You were apart for a few days and it’s been a while since you’ve been separated for longer than that. 

“I just miss you,” you sigh, hugging him now and liking the comfort of his touch as always. “No one would massage my feet after walking in heels for hours and have a bath with me, no one would make me cum to sleep or kiss me goodnight.”

“Nice to know that’s all you miss,” he teases, earning him another pout.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I miss those, too,” he hums as he kisses your forehead. “Thanks though, for coming here. I know that Jimin and Hoseok had to push back some of your schedules.”

“No issue at all. I wanted to be here, babe. This is a big deal and I’m… I’m just so happy for you,” you say against his chest. 

“You know I wouldn’t have gotten here without you, right?” He replies, emotional now at how far he’s come. 

It’s been years but the memory of his injury and his subsequent fallout from the sport comes and goes sometimes, so was losing you in the process. And then losing you again. But he’s here now, with you, the night before an important moment of his young career as a sports analyst, and he’s never felt more secure in his life. 

“You’ve always been a fighter,” you look up at him. “And you’re here because of you.” You kiss him softly. “But I can also take credit, that’s fine,” you laugh. “But really, thank you for not giving up on your dream, babe. I hope you know that it gives me courage, too.”

That night, you climb into bed with Yoongi, the exhaustion from the long trip overtaking you. There’s warmth in his eyes when he looks at you, and he chuckles when you try to stay awake. It’s his soft lips against your forehead that bids you goodnight, and you fall into his arms, knowing that this is what you’ll be waking up to in the morning.

The next evening, you walk inside TD Garden, Boston’s sports arena, where Game 1 of the NBA finals between the Celtics and Phoenix Suns are being held. The energy is insane, something you’ve never felt before, and it’s making you giddy and excited. You can only imagine what it’s like for Yoongi, and the thought makes your heart warm. 

You did see him taking long breaths earlier after he’d dressed up and prepared to leave, and much as you’d been so tired, you just had to hug him to calm him down and tell him that he’s gonna do great. He’s just excited, he claimed, but he’ll look for you in the arena; knowing you’re there with him will be enough to calm his racing heart. 

He had to go earlier to cover the press conference and film for their segment in Seoul’s morning news channel. It’s just him, Hee-soo, and a small production crew but it’s all they need. As commentators, they get to call the game but also interview the players and staff, report it, and then write about it. It’s tough and stressful but it’s the kind of buzz that Yoongi lives for now, you can tell, as you eye him in his designated analysts’ table, looking around and taking in the energy of the arena. His smile is priceless. There’s pride in it, there’s acceptance. It looks like the smile of someone who fought hard to have a new dream, and someone who worked to achieve it. 

Yoongi’s eyes go to you and you wave. You’re thankful for the connections you have that got you this ticket last minute, and even if you won’t pay attention to the game as much, being here to witness Yoongi call his first NBA match is too special to miss. You can’t imagine being anywhere else.

The game is an exciting one. You get into it with the crowd even if you don’t exactly have a team you’re rooting for but you cheer just the same. Your eyes constantly flit to Yoongi though, whose position isn’t far from where you’re seated. 

You listen through the online channel so you can hear what he’s saying, and the way he describes the energy inside is on-point. He narrates the plays effectively; you could be looking away from the court and still feel like you’re watching because of how good he is. His voice is calm and measured, except towards the end when the game is close and his pitch increases and he matches the excitement of what’s happening. It’s intense and exhilarating, and when the final buzzer sounds, you turn to him and see that smile on his face again. 

Tears form in your eyes as you feel overwhelming pride. Perhaps it’s similar to what he felt when he was with you during the recent Film Festival where your movie was shown and the audience gave your entry a standing ovation. He knew what you had to go through for that role and seeing your hard work paying off meant so much to him, as he got to hold your hand and tell you he was proud of you. 

That was special, he said. So many times in the past, he wanted to tell you all that, and that you did well, and that he’s looking forward to the next big thing you’ll do, but he never had the courage to. That’s why he’d send flowers, he told you. 

He also revealed how that came about - how he’d driven to Seoul for your first movie premiere with a bouquet of daisies but that he’d seen you with someone, and how he decided to leave it at the agency for you to receive. He almost took it back but you seemed to like it so he just continued with the tradition. You cried then, and he said he didn’t want you to feel guilty. But you were emotional because he still looked out for you and his care for you never wavered. The flowers gave you strength, and you’d told him you wanted to be like those daisies for him, too. 

Seeing him now gives you that sense of fulfillment, that not long from now, you’ll be able to hold his hand and tell him you’re proud of him, and the chance to do that for someone you love is special beyond words. You’re glad you can finally do that for each other now. 

Gentle dreams, you think. This life with him and all the simple things you do for each other and together are some of the biggest ones.

It’s quiet in the car on the way to your hotel, the fancier one you booked for both of you instead of the mid-range one they got for him. Yoongi is focused on his notebook, jotting down notes from his memory that he’ll have to write up later on. 

He’s then glued to his device once you get to your room, with him seated on the couch and agreeing to your orders for room service for your dinner. It seems he’s going through the messages of praise from his colleagues and his friends. A lot of people tune in to the channel’s coverage of the NBA, and other than you, no one’s prouder than his dad and his brother. 

You watch him from the bathroom door, appreciating the joy he exudes. It’s different from what you’d seen all those years ago. This is a man who went through various kinds of pain and had other people suffer because of it, something he still burdens himself with every once in a while. But he did the brave thing of dreaming again; sometimes you think that’s probably harder than when he gave up on the first one. 

Yoongi shows you everyday that courage takes different forms. Sometimes it’s letting something go, sometimes it’s fighting for them. Sometimes it’s loving someone from afar and sometimes it’s flying thousands of miles to a foreign country and asking for them back. 

But it’s always picking up your broken pieces and learning to love yourself despite and because of them. It’s finding something or someone you can’t live without and offering what you can, trusting that they’ll take you into their world because you deserve it. Courage is dreaming again, it’s loving again even with the possibility of getting hurt. It’s trusting yourself enough that you’re going to be okay if things don’t go your way. 

You hear him call your name. You realize you’ve been gazing at him for longer than you intended, and so you walk towards him as he looks at you questioningly.

“I was just admiring how happy you look,” you say. “It suits you, and I’m just so thankful I get to see it.”

His face softens and he reaches out his hand, one that he kisses and he doesn’t say anything else. He just looks at you tenderly and your heart races at the sight. 

You bend to capture his lips on yours, your movements gentle yet wanting. But it builds as time passes, until you feel him undoing the knot of your bathrobe, with him sighing in satisfaction when he feels you bare underneath. Your breath hitches when he cups your breast and you want nothing more than to have him right now. 

You pull away then remove your robe, liking the way his eyes roam around your naked form and how he gulps at the position you’re getting into, as you  get on your knees and spread his legs apart. His slacks get off first, and then his briefs. He removes the rest of his clothes as you take him in your mouth, his cock heavy and wanting as it reaches the edge of your throat. 

You take your time, wanting him to feel good after what he’d done tonight, but he’s the one who pulls away, wanting instead to bury himself inside you. It’s what he does, as he directs you on the couch, entering you from behind while his fingers do their magic on all parts of your body. But he lets you both come together, on the bed as he hovers over you, his head no longer buried in your neck, with his eyes looking straight into yours as you both come down from your highs. 

He kisses your lips tenderly as his I love you, and the way he holds you later that night says everything he can’t say. 

Loving you is what he wants to do in his life. Loving you is courage. 

You didn’t realize just how tiring covering the NBA finals would be. Considering their small team, Yoongi and Hee-soo work double time to get all the information they need to cover the games and write about them within a short period of time. They also have to fly back and forth depending on where the game is and you’ve liked tagging along, enjoying the amenities of your hotel and exploring the nearby area. It’s what you do in Boston and then in Phoenix. 

And while a game 7 is great for the league and basketball fans, you can tell it’s taxing for Yoongi. He doesn’t complain though. It’s part of the experience; the first one tends to be very memorable, he says. 

Both of you find yourselves in Boston's public garden the afternoon after the final game of the series. It’s been a crazy 24 hours, as Yoongi and Hee-soo had to do interviews and then report and then write about the game. You stayed by Yoongi’s side, attending to his needs and helping whenever you can. 

It’s early morning in Korea by now and work can resume later, perhaps right before or during your early morning flight back home, but you’re both at what has become one of your favorite spots in the city. It’s nice and simple and quiet. The garden is also accessible. It reminds you of the park in Paris, the one where Yoongi had come to meet you, and you cried in his arms at the sight of the man you didn’t think you’d be able to be with again, but he braved through his fears to be with you. 

“I like it here,” you say, as you walk past one of the many statues. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He hums. “The pond reminds me of Paris.”

You turn to him and smile, letting him know you were thinking the same. 

Yoongi watches you lovingly look at the flowers. Your head turns when you hear toddlers squealing on their parents’ shoulders. And you perk up at the dog that stops to sniff his leg. They’re all simple but they’re so unabashedly you - soft, charming, and everything he needs. 

He thinks about all the things he loves about you as you smile and laugh at your surroundings. He’s been thinking about a lot of things, actually, constantly pinching his arm to remind himself that this life he’s created with you isn’t just some dream he conjured in his mind to get over losing you twice. You’re actually, truly next to him, living his new dream with him, as he dreams your dream with you. He doesn’t think he can get any happier than everyday he gets to live like this. 

You told him a few times that he’s brave for dreaming a new dream. It’s scary to do that, you’d said, so are other things, like loving again and again, accepting the broken pieces of himself and loving every one of them. You’d said that he was brave for flying to see you and asking for you back, and while he agrees to some extent, he doesn’t think anyone can be braver than you. 

You love intensely and genuinely; you love so certainly. You love like you heal, and you love yourself and others so you could heal as well. The way you loved him all these years has been filled with courage - you loved when it hurt, when it didn’t feel like he wanted to fight for you, when it felt like your love wasn’t strong enough to carry his burden. You loved so hard that there would be nothing to regret if the world ended the next day, and your love is so transformative that it created a home in his aching heart so that it could be strong enough to love both you and him after everything. 

You turn to him and reach out for your hand as you head towards the exit, and he jogs to where you are and intertwines his fingers with yours - not loosely but securely; he wants you to know he’s never letting you go.

There’s no version of life that he’d let you go another time. And so when he gets a message from the jeweler that his order for a customized daisy ring is ready, Yoongi’s heart soars to know that he could at least give you - ask you - something that will let you know that he’ll choose this life over and over again as long as it’s the one where he gets to live the rest of it next to you. 

You’ll both go back to Seoul, in the home you both created, in each other’s arms where you both belong. 

Series Masterlist

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[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Nicole's rant: The Venom Problem

Contains spoilers for Venom: The Last Dance.

‼️ This might be a controversial opinion but i’ll say it anyway.

let it be known i’d love to have just straight up 1.5 hours of raw footage of eddie and venom just hanging out doing stupid shit, just let tom hardy and his comedy shine. please. i wouldn’t be criminally offended if rhys ifans & the hippie family joined.

ps: i don't mean to hate anyone liking this movie. to each their own. if you liked it, then that's also fine. this is my opinion and you don't have to agree. i was raised on early marvel (the incredible hulk, blade, elektra, iron man...) so i'd say i can tell a decent superhero story from something utterly mid, if even that.

because… what in the fuck is venom: the last dance (2024)?

madame web (2024) war flashbacks hit hard with this one.

who wrote this? and who said it’s a good idea? WHY and HOW did tom hardy produce this?

COLUMBIA YOU HAD THE RIGHTS TO VENOM FOR 3 MOVIES.

i’m not sure if it’s copyright issues or something, but there’s surely SOME OTHER storyline that you could capture into the movie instead of whatever the last dance is.

not that carnage was any good, but a) woody harleson (we stan a king) and b) it’s not expected for every movie to be 10/10, mishaps happen. it was a fun little experiment and we get it. pop off, sister. atop, it was directed by andy serkis (we love a king).

BUT HOW DID YOU FABRICATE A SECOND CARNAGE?

because oh wait, you didn't. let there be carnage (2021) was so weird and bad it was actually endearing in a sense. it defo embraced the silly side and yannow what? looking back at it, i'll trade it for the last dance without a second thought.

first off: how does this have 81% on rotten? huh? pls give me the deets of your dealer because i need the shit you've taken before viewing it.

why open with a reminder that venom and peter parker ALMOST met in the MCU? why teasing with what could’ve been but WASN’T?

tom hardy doesn’t look like he wants to be there and covering it with having a “perpetual hangover” might be the best fucking bandage anyone came up with.

“i’ll consider going for playing venom again IF i get to fight spider-man” TOM MY BOY TELL THEM.

baron mordo was done dirty, yes, but THE UNSPEAKABLE HORRORS venom did to my boy Chiwetel? my boy looked like he’s forced to be there. 0 chemistry, 0 passion. someone give him a break.

whose idea was to cast Juno Temple? there’s not a single ounce of soul in those eyes. miss girl doesn’t change her facial expression once for the entire movie. at first, i thought they truly casted paralysed actress, which was one points i defended the movie with.

then i learned she’s not???

rhys ifans & alana ubach? 10/10.

every scene inside the laboratory was a mandatory chore.

didn't we forger something? like fucking anne for example???? and you give her what? a single name-drop. fuck off. (i'd yeet too after reading the script i think)

andy serkis dropped by for a guest appearance ig.

mrs. chen. how do i start?

i almost walked out of the theatre on that sequence. that’s my petty personal issue and i’ll admit as much, but WHERE did everyone put their brains? like that sequence doesn’t make any sense.

i mean ofc they can meet in las vegas. ofc, gamble. BUT THE REST?

does the main plot line even make sense? like are venom and eddie super special or can any of the symbionts make the key with their host??? (tbh that might be me zoning off and not the movie’s fault)

the movies’s 4/10 at best. eddie and venom scenes? 10/10. anything else? mandatory chore

at least agatha all along (2024) popped tf off.

[eerna]

How is the hate watching going? Love your rants 😭

Dhshshsh thank youuu~~

I finished the show, but I was so weak from how dumb the ending was that I forgot to blog about it. God. God what is this show. I will sum up my opinions here.

This isn't an adaptation, it's a totally different alt history with a fantasy twist story. There isn't a single plot point that happens the same way in both the book and the show, including the actual historical guidelines. I don't even think I noticed any book quotes (aside from a few remixed ones, like Jane inventing the "you come here often?" line). Idk why they didn't just call it something else, it's not like MLJ has a big fandom they could mooch off of.

I already whined about this but I need to re-establish it. All the changes made were to make the story into tiktok romantasy brainrot. The book was already super sweet and silly with the horniness appropriate for a YA romance, but these guys went full "booktok authors advertising their romantasy works" with it. It has tropes just for the sake of tropes a la Bridgerton, where it doesn't take its time to relish in any bc it has to sprint to the next one to check the box. How you mess up an arranged marriage plotline is beyond me, I think that Jane and Guildford called each other "wife" and "husband" like??? Twice???? Bc they were too busy holding each other at knife point or looking at each other's showering butts or whatever. They didn't even TRY to include the shared curse, apparently that was too boring and vanilla for them once they wrote in that Ethians keep their clothes on when transforming.

The plot is simply wack. The pacing is off because they stretched the first half of the story across 8 eps 50 minutes each, so a lot of the time everyone is pointlessly meandering waiting for the next plot point/reveal so everyone can move on. And this usually happens in the form of sex scenes. It is actually hilarious how many plot relevant sex scenes there are, at LEAST one per ep, where characters are discussing the plot and/or convincing each other to reveal their secrets. Do the writers know there are other situations that allow characters to talk to each other??? Even Jane and Guildford have sex and she goes "So about your dead mother"

The writers keep forgetring previously established stuff. Edward and Henry can imprison/execute anyone without trial, but Jane has to "find evidence" that these guys are trying to kill her. It is established Ethians absorb their clothes and any items they are holding into their animal form, but then Guildford is running around with a shackle around his neck claiming it will break his spine if he turns into a horse while it is on him, BUT THEN later he gets out of thick ropes that couldn't be cut by turning into a horse??????? Did they forget their own rules of magic??????

The dialogue isn't as bad as something you'd see on CW, but it still isn't good. I hate it when you can tell a show is trying to be edgy by constantly swearing and saying and doing shocking things, it feels unnatural and dumb. Mary in particular is the worst case of this, I don't think she has a single character trait there that isn't there for humor edgyness. She keeps licking and chewing random things, doesn't bathe, keeps getting turned on when her father and brother are mentioned, and has meltdowns like a spoiled child (at one point this is a plot point, as in "Jane gets her to get upset in public so she loses her political credibility", but there are 0 consequences and Mary keeps acting like a child in front of the entire court and NO ONE does anything and she is STILL QUEEN when credits roll on ep 8). This is the MAIN VILLAIN why is ANYONE afraid of her is beyond me. Also the cursing, murderous, racist, genocidal 10-year-old was so annoying and I kept imaging her parents and all of the writers getting sent to the salt mines for putting that little actress through that.

The lead actors are stuck in this mess. Jane and Guildford had good chemistry, in a "these actors clearly know what they are doing even if no one else in the production does" way. It went a step further and Jane had strange charged chemistry with others too, to the point where I was like "... Did she ever smash Susannah???" and "Are we adding Archer into the mix????". Lady Frances and Lord Dudley also made me think "I wish you were in a better show".

Around the midpoint of the show when I realized Jane is not yet gonna be deposed I was like "Oh no, are they splitting it into two seasons???" But then Edward finished up his portion of the story to join the finale and Archer joined Jane so I was like "Oh, they are just changing the culmination to happen during the execution". But THEN the show ends with a cliffhanger and a promise to dethrone Mary. S2 will look even less like the book, but maybe that's a blessing.

The soundtrack sounded so cheap and digital. Amazon do not lie to me and say you couldn't get an orchestra to record it. The tracks were on loop you literally needed like a few days tops to record it.

All in all. This show sucks man I am so annoyed at it

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

asking about your piss take headcanon that merlin and dr who take place in the same universe

hell yeah!

ok so in Journey's End (4x14) the Doctor explains that Gwen from Torchwood looks exactly like Gwyneth from The Unquiet Dead (1x03) due to 'spatial genetic multiplicity'

Russell T Davies described it as the 'repetition of physical traits across a time rift'.

Oh, the time rift in Cardiff? the time rift only 16 miles away from Caerleon, where Camelot was supposedly located

which is interesting because you know who else bares a striking resemblance to Gwen and Gwyneth? Lady Helen from the first episode of Merlin

(and I think she also low key looks like that actress Eve Myles, but maybe that's just me)

if this isn't enough to convince you, need I remind you that the characters of Arthurian Legend very much exist in the whoniverse

the Doctor's involvement in King Arthur's life is incredibly convoluted and contradictory, even within DW canon. But many stories involve the Doctor intervening to ensure that things go according to Arthurian Legend and earth's history remains consistent

for instance, there is a plot in Classic Who where Arthur's body is placed in a spaceship at the bottom of the lake, in an effort to follow the legend that he is "in eternal sleep until England's greatest need", as Ace quotes. The Doctor says that Merlin must have been involved and yet the spaceship is activated by the Doctor's voice, which is "exactly the kind of thing (the Doctor) would do". Leading Ace to ask:

clearly, some of Merlin's actions are fixed points in time and the Doctor must confirm that those things come to pass at some stage in his future

so, when does the Doctor go back to intervene with Arthur's burial and various other events? is it during the Seventh Doctor's run? One story suggests that it was the Eighth Doctor

but I would argue it was the regeneration after that. The version of the Doctor who attempted to make peace during genocide against his race and was betrayed and defeated. The last of his kind, desperate and ruthless

the version of the Doctor that sounds eerily similar to Kilgharrah (and also a bit like John Hurt)

you know, Kilgharrah, who manipulates Merlin to act in accordance with an abstract fate that only he understands

"but the Doctor can't be Kilgharrah, he's a dragon!"

bet. 2 words: chameleon arch

it can modify a Time Lord's biology, turning them into a different species. Sure, usually into a human, but who's to say that it can't work for dragons?

Time Lords still retain their time sensitivity, which would explain how Kilgharrah has an innate knowledge that some events are fated and others are subject to change

and then Kilgharrah's laments about "watching civilisations rise and fall" and his vengeance against Uther are repressed memories from the Time War

maybe it was while the Doctor was a fugitive from the Time War and he decided to kill two birds with one stone and go into hiding as a dragon. and then also make sure that the Arthurian Legend timeline was in order

so, destiny doesn't exist at all, it's just the War Doctor spouting out bullshit riddles to keep the time stream straight

of course, if these characters exist in the same universe, what about Merlin/Jethro, Uther/Mr Finch, Gaius/Dr Constantine, Gwen/Katherine, Percival/Jeff, Nimueh/Lady Christina, Lady Vivian/Jenny, Will/Cline, the list goes on

I have crack theories for those too, each one more deranged than the last, but this post is long enough already

[witchqueenvisenya]

a very stupid thing show fans believe is that all is well and good at the end of the show because the "good guys" aka the starks are in power (read=absolute power; they rule two kingdoms and one of them is all-knowing and can control human beings) while having done some of the most underhanded and/or politically unwise things throughout the time we see them have power. this is much less about show!bran in that i think the characterisation of the three eyed raven doesn't say/do much about what the overall role of such a power and title is, so i really couldn't say what time might do to bran. we didn't touch much on who bloodraven was, and how he is now changed because of so much time passing and the world changing around him as he stagnated in a cave while seeing things around the world as well as seeing into the literal past. i would rather speak about show!sansa and this pervasive notion that her fans and the larger fandom has that she will be a good and peaceful ruler (a democratic one, even, according to the actress!) because of the things she has seen and the people she has learned from and supposedly turned away from and because her father was a good man, if not a very sound leader. since said fans love to contrast this with daenerys and speculate about what type of leader she would have been (if not for the events of the last few episodes) and already has been, i will just say that much of the things she has also gone through (some that are superficious comparisons with sansa's experiences), as well as the people she has turned to for advice (because i don't see her holding onto any moralistic teachings from any of them except from mirri maaz duur re slavery in that she takes it upon herself to just abolish slavery continent-wide) and the actual things she has learned about being a ruler, being a politician, juggling court politics while being involved with the military side of things, the intricacies of feeding her subjects, about illness and siege and the much more personal, and deeper struggle of being an exile and homeless and alone in the world in every way that matters except maybe for the family legacy in the form of her dragons-- these things already far surpass what limited experience sansa has had while being a high born political captive with no knowledge of the people and what inroads you have to take as a ruler to keep them happy and fed and safe. this is as much true for the show as it is for the books, even with the mangled meereen plot which is when daenerys truly shines even while making mistakes (which is expected and normal and not a sign of future madness like be serious for one second). she at least has some knowledge of servitude and slavery, and as a future ruler of westeros, i do believe she would have learned the differences in the systems of rulership and people under a feudal monarchy as compared to one based on slave economy. she has the foundation for this undertaking more than any of the other young characters, save jon snow and, and it is really a sort of i believe what i want even if it's untrue, like open denial, that's been going on in this fandom. it's just weird at this point. the way the show ended, who isn't to say that sansa stark wouldn't become dictatorial and cruel when she finds out that she is unequipped for the actual work that goes into ruling? or just a lackadaisical head-in-the-clouds ruler who doesn't even know what is happening in her kingdom?

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S02E19 - In a Family Way

We finally reached the last episode of this Odyssey season. You know what? 16 episodes is a very acceptable number.

This is not an episode I'd choose for a season finale. Especially not when a few of the best of the season were literally before this one.

Oh yeah. The episode that they changed from murder at the golf course to murder at a ski resort because the golf course got covered by a huge amount of snow. Only in Canada. Again, we'd have postponed the filming here. For days and days. Otherwise people would have died.

The boys are skiing/snowboarding! Why do I always forget that?

"I was cool once". Yeah, yeah, Charlie.

I actually really like snowboard. I hate ski. At least when we're talking about trying them out, not watching them on tv.

Jesse, be normal for one frame so I can take a screenshot.

More ATV time.

"Where is my work wife?"

We shan't be deprived of flirting.

"Did that guy just... snowboard away from me?"

Because he might come up with a terrible line like this one?

"Cute? I'm a ferocious beast!"

This is a good look. Although I must say that the neatly combed hairstyle has left me unimpressed and I don't think that it really fits the character either.

"Just our luck. The dad's a lawyer". Well, it doesn't happen that often.

Impossible. We're in the middle of the episode.

Impossible. We're in the middle of the episode.

And now we have to bullshit him so that we can definitively prove that the confession is false. So much extra work just because he's covering for his son, who's covering for his father, and neither did it!

I hate that crime shows have to explain things again for those who didn't pay attention. Just pay attention!

Yeah, she is.

This episode had a decent plot twist.

I'm not going to mention how many crime shows I've watched, not because I think it's embarrassing but because at this point I've lost count. But this is the first time where someone uses a real life pregnancy as a fake pregnancy for undercover work in the show. And it's actually genius? I mean, you get to have one more episode with your pregnant actress. I don't know why no one else has thought about it.

Yet again, Sarah is The Only Woman in the Force, by the way.

Don't laugh, idiot. Don't you have any sense of self-preservation?

This is funny because you can see that Charlie is imagining it but Sarah actually wants to murder both of them.

"Charlie, what did you do? Am I going to be a big brother?" (I'm kidding. I know dogs can sniff out a pregnancy before even the humans.)

Sarah: "Do we have a name yet? For our... child?" Charlie: "Uh, yeah. You like Ella, and I like... Bella." You just lost any future child naming writes, buddy.

Her little smile is cute. Also, stop having people interrupt their moments!

This is why Sarah wanted you two to get your story straight, Charlie.

Dude! What are you telling her?

Sarah called Charlie "honey". I forgot that???

lol Diesel never managed to open the cabinet with that handle, did he?

"Rex was the first to figure it out". He usually is.

"I have an IQ of 160". And an EQ of negative infinity.

It's possible (unfortunately) that this case was based on an actual real case sometime back but I remember that a few months after it had aired, a new case broke in the news, I think that one was in the US, though.

I like the song at the end. Well, the next to last one, actually.

One for the Charlesse shippers.

And a wallpaper for me lol

Again, wallpaper for me.

And one more for the Charlesse shippers.

I might have forgotten to mention, but my screenshots are covered under the "who gives a fuck" and "no strings attached" license. Just use them. It will be good for you :P

[ca-suffit]

Maybe I'm wrong and it's just a perception,and also I'm not trying to absolve the fandom from racism, but how do you explain that Armand is totally accepted (I mean I'm happy for him) but I noticed recently that he's a big fan favorite despite having had his race changed.

I don't see him being stereotyped by the fandom because of his race.

So if the fandom is so racist why is Assad so loved ? They changed their beloved ginger and I've never seen anyone cry about it,just love.

Once again I don't wish him to receive racist treatment i have just noticed.

I even think he Overtaken Lestat (for the now in s2 because I think his fans are just asleep waiting for Lestat season)

Sorry if my ask seems like an hater i'm just trying to make some logical.I know fandom can be ugly for POC especially after racebending but if I'm not wrong Armand is a big fan favorite in the books and his show version too his ethnicity didn't change anything.I'm not saying Claudia and Louis deserve their treatment inside fandom,just sometimes i'm wondering if they had been white wouldn't it be the same ?

There's layers to what's going on with Armand. I just answered this ask ahead of this one, which says the opposite of this, but both of u are technically "correct" in what ur seeing.

Also, before I get too deep into this, just to mention that when the Armand reveal happened in S1, the racism was off the fucking CHARTS here.

Anyway, Armand *is* treated differently from book to show but it's not in the same way that the characters who are black are treated. Taken from this ask

"armand has his own history and is a brown man, but he’s a man who does have privilege in ways over louis and is shown abusing him with it too. it doesn’t mean his history is erased. but the fandom will defend (white) lestat first, then (brown) armand second, and….never really defend louis (or claudia)…..despite them being the only ones we’ve seen abused on screen so far. so it’s not rly about pitting anyone against each other as it is acknowledging who has the privilege across all these spaces and knowing why that is too."

Essentially what ur seeing is more acceptance for a non black person of color but who still isn't receiving the same treatment that the white character is getting when it comes to exploring his motivations and his backstory. Like I said in the first linked ask, ppl "accept" Armand and say "we love our evil gremlin" but Lestat is the one getting deep metas over God knows what, shit ppl just make up at this point. Armand isn't getting the same treatment for the show version.

I'm not saying Claudia and Louis deserve their treatment inside fandom,just sometimes i'm wondering if they had been white wouldn't it be the same ?

I think this is saying if Louis and Claudia were white in the show, wouldn't the fan reactions be the same? And the answer is no, not at all. They're *drastically* different and it's solely bcuz they're black now. For example, Louis' anger was never treated as "a problem" until he was black. Claudia was never called "manipulative" or "too old" until she was black. The actress who played her in the Lestat play was 19 or something too. That plot follows the series p closely for Claudia's involvement with the coven as well, but nobody ever spoke negatively about that actress or character for any reason. They were rly never judged for anything when it was all white ppl (except for Louis being sad and whiny a lot).

[kaz-rizzveld]

I just wanted to put in my 2 cents with season 4 of The Umbrella Academy.

Disclaimer: no hate please, this is my opinion!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Starting off with the ending.

So what the actual fuck. One time I saw someone say back before the season came out that they did in fact think the show should end with all the siblings dying together and realizing there’s nothing they could do and someone else replied how weak that thinking is and I completely agree. (I believe the person who explained how that was weak was "mortal-song" here on tumblr, btw)

Anyway, if the show creators thought of this choice as another “tragic ending” that should have been written or a lesson that things don’t always end well, I get it from a standpoint of someone who thinks all outcomes should be portrayed in media, I just don’t agree that it was the right direction for this show. It’s literally become nothing more than a trend and people thinking they’re quirky and different by ending things badly with a handful of unexplained plot holes because they think they’re Shakespeare. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re not. 

I also understand the idea that this is not a kids show and deep and sophisticated plot lines will be explored, so there should be no problem ending the show this way, right? Wrong again. I’m sick of the idea that because this show is for adults, that we can, and should, give it a tragic ending to communicate that things don’t always end well, no matter how hard you try and that’s such a dangerous message. I’ve also seen people talk about how the show is about coming together as a family and working through childhood trauma as now grown ass adults and that the final conclusions the characters came to is that “we’re the problem and we should give up and die.” This the complete wrong message on so many levels. The devolution of these complex characters and unnecessary romance storylines is so ridiculous (don’t even get me started on Five and Lila) and, quite frankly, insulting to the actors, but I’ll get into that in a minute.

My overall point is that the message and ending in general is absolutely WEAK. It’s rushed, sloppy, and weak. If we had to keep all of the other batshit crazy plot lines that don’t even make any sense, but ended the show differently, we could’ve ended the show with the characters allowing the world to end and them die because they believed that they would also make it to the next world, another motivating message that could’ve been explored, by the way. They could’ve ended out also alive and well in the fixed timeline, living their lives as regular people and healing together. Them literally dying and being erased from existence making the past three seasons pointless is just. Weak. 

Now onto the actors, especially Aidan because based on interviews, I feel like I relate to him and this is just what I feel I can speak to. !! Now I am not him, I do not know him, and I don’t know how he feels !! but if I played Five Hargreeves, if I grew as an actor playing such a complex character, and if I learned a lot about who I was and who the people around me were through my character and theirs, and then the writers completely changed who he is in so many ways, whether that’s selfishness, self pity, giving up, or being a complete home wrecker, I’d be quite upset. If I was in Aidan’s shoes, I’d be furious. That’s so insulting because he brought your character to life and explored a traumatic story for you and for viewers AND gave an absolutely amazing performance, and you go and do him like that…. That’s honestly just so odd of you and I feel bad for him and his costars for being insulted like that. 

I could talk about Ritu as well because as an actress she watched her co-star and friend grow up, and then you go and make her have a romantic relationship with him. I know they’re actors and it’s their job but that’s literally so odd. This mainly, but also other aspects of her character that I feel was completely different to who she was as a person in the last two seasons, is also very insulting to Ritu. Like just wow.

Some other smaller examples for the other actors:

It’s insulting to Tom that you reduced his character to a literal stripper and over the top golden retriever after he progressed and grew.

It’s insulting to David that you reduced his character to a “father” who isn’t doing his job well and in a highly broken marriage. Not to mention he was against the Lila and Five plot and you went and did it anyway.

It’s insulting to Emmy that she didn’t get to build on and explore a real or complex relationship with the people her character sacrificed everything for in the first place.

It’s insulting to Robert that you developed his character to someone sober and more mature, just to strip it away and reduce him back to season 1 him- someone the others can’t trust or take seriously, whether he’s drinking or a germaphobe, just for giggles. It wasn't funny by the way.

It’s insulting to Aidan that you reduced his character to a blind and selfish boy who betrayed his own brother and gave up on his family when that's literally the opposite of his character.

It’s insulting to Justin that you reduced his character to the monster he was afraid of becoming since the beginning and probably gave him false hope about being able to share a powerful message this season since he was supposed to be the focus.

It’s insulting to Elliot that though he was able to explore his character as a grown individual who stands up for himself to his father, that it was all for nothing, meant nothing in the long run.

It’s insulting to Ritu that her character development also meant nothing and her character was reduced to a messy adulterer and questionable mother.

It’s a bad and weak message to the audience and it’s a bad and weak message to the actors and it’s insulting to them that they had to communicate said message after all of this.

[nostalgia-tblr]

i can attempt to cheer up the sylkis, but bear in mind i am never right about anything.

It's not that S1 sylki is being treated like it never happened, because you could do this season with Sylvie rejoining the gang after an episode and she and Loki are now besties but no they are keeping my fave from me I AM SUFFERING SO MUCH and she turns up mid-episode so help with a plot thing and then fucks off again at the end four episodes in a row like she cannot be left hanging around because then we'd have to address the elephant in the room. And I feel like the elephant is still in the room, because we haven't mentioned the kissing at all and it's well past the point where that just seems weird.

And the people saying "if they'd got it on in episode 2/3 they'd def be doomed" are correct, that's pretty much what always happens in telly. They haven't made the romantic shit explicit enough to do a tragic parting (probably - like I say I am often wrong about telly) but equally the way it's not being talked about does not really scream retconned to me it. Same as how Sylvie is sidelined in a way that to me says either "actress was not available much" (and she was) or "we need to stop these characters having this conversation or we'll resolve the plot too soon." And if it's that then as a Sylvie stan I am annoyed to have her role reduced just to make a man a bit sad for a while. Because you'd think she should have some role in doing Whatever The Heck is happening after she killed HWR, there's no reason she couldn't have (for example) agreed to come and fix the loom etc while fully intending to leave when that's done (and she could bitch about the TVA while she did it!) But no, she's conspicuously Not There yet also she has to turn up for Reasons mid-episode because she's still a main character and probaby important to whatever the resolution of all this stuff is. (And the end of ep 5 seems to strongly imply that she is.)

And like. Leaving her to the end while "getting the gang back together" feels extremely deliberate as a choice. Building up to her. And then she says nope and then appears again at the end as a spark of hope before everything turns into spaghetti. And then that ending stuff where Loki can control the time-skipping because it's about "who". And yeah possibly this means one of his new besties at the TVA but if I had to guess and I was only allowed to guess one of them.

I think my main point is that yes it's awkward, but it didn't need to be as awkward for as long so something is being dragged out to the very end here, it's not just a change in direction where we're gonna ignore the kissing because the kissing doesn't matter. I feel like we're ignoring it because it does. But what do I know? 🤷‍♀️