#genuine criticism and also like just me missing her words

[ewwww-what]

Not enough acknowledgment of Ayda Aguefort being the best friend and girlfriend in the entire world. SHE IS MILLIONS OF YEARS IN THE PAST AND SHES STILL THINKING ABOUT WHAT SHE CAN DO FOR THE PEOPLE SHE LOVES. I CANNOT DO THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW.

[topscarkiller]

“i need you.” — abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 !

summary: after tending to neglected needs, it takes 5 words to turn the tables. notes: nsfw, scissoring, oral sex, (r!receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. wc: 2,793 | tags: none

read pt 1 of " i need you " here!

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby wolf, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please�� please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

[365emotionlessfaces]

Again, y’all. I’m sorry. She’s got me in a chokehold. I might write more chapters for this one. I kinda like it.

Don’t Take My Sunshine

WC: ~2.2k

“What did you call me, Schemmenti?!” Your voice rang through the empty hall of Abbott Elementary. The red-headed teacher has driven you crazy on every level possible for the last three years. She infuriated you from the beginning. She hadn’t even given you a chance when you started teaching at this school, immediately starting in on your appearance and your happy-go-lucky attitude, and then evolving to criticizing your teaching methods! She always knew exactly how to get under your skin, and after all this time you had hoped that she would have calmed down. Or that your skin would’ve gotten thicker.

Fiery hair flew out of the door down the hall, followed by piercing green eyes, a bright pink blazer over a charcoal blouse, flowy black dress pants, and heels that could puncture your heart. Her eyes landed on you, and you felt your breath catch slightly. Even though they always held contempt for you, her eyes were the most beautiful you had ever seen. They almost made her insults bearable. Almost.

“You’re a little sfigata! Comin’ in here, actin’ so full o’ life, an’ now I got my students wantin’ to know what youse guys are doing in the class next door! I can barely keep my kiddos engaged, then we got Mary Freaking Poppins havin’ sunshine and musicals every stinkin’ day! I’m so over you and your chipper little attitude! Get over yourself!” If this was how hostile she was going to be on week three of school, you were going to have to resign yourself to a long year. Your chipper attitude was hard-earned through years of bullies, exes, angry parents, and just plain mean people.

After three years, you had decided two things when it pertained to Melissa Schemmenti:

•She was undeniably attractive- a Philly thirteen, you swear to Gods- and she only got hotter when she was angry

•You were gonna kill her with kindness

“You think I sound like Mary Poppins?” You asked her sweetly, giving her as genuine of a smile as you could muster. You swear you saw her eye twitch. “That’s really sweet of you, Melissa. Just because you’re being so sweet, I’ll try to keep it down.” You gave her a quick wink, and dipped into your classroom to finish grading the tests from today.

You disappeared from Melissa’s line of sight so quickly, you missed the shocked expression flash across her face. It lasted less than a second before it turned to one of annoyance. She tightened her hands into fists, crumpling the papers in her left, before storming back into her own classroom.

The following week found you staying true to your word, keeping the volume to a lower octave than before. You didn’t have any less music throughout your day, though. The week also brought less snide remarks from the Italian next door. They were still there, but they were slowly losing their bite.

By the time Christmas break rolled around, she was almost… complimenting you? She took to not being so snide when she had a request to make, and you think last week you heard a ‘please’ come from those beautiful lips. You’re pretty sure it’s a real smile she gives you when she calls you things like ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ and ‘Princess Happy.’ You realized that, sure, when she was angry she was gorgeous, but when her eyes softened, and the corners of her lips curled up into a smirk at one of your sarcastic remarks, she went from beautiful to straight-up ethereal.

———

“So what did you do over Christmas break?” Janine Teagues slid into the seat next to you, while you attempted to eat your lunch. The stress from seeing your family over break had you so caught up in your own mind, you barely noticed Janine had sat down. You definitely didn’t notice the redhead’s eyes on you.

“Huh?” Was all you managed for a response in between stabbing at your salad with your fork. This seemed to shock a few of your colleagues, as Barb and Jacob both looked at you with concern on their faces. You were usually one to chat animatedly with Janine, or anyone, about a variety of subjects.

“Did you do anything over break?” She repeated, slightly more hesitant than last time.

“Oh, I went home to see my Grandpa,” you sighed slightly, remembering the disaster that was your impromptu family reunion.

It was just supposed to be dinner between you and your grandpa, but apparently over the last three years, he and your father had reconnected. You haven’t talked to your father since his horrible reaction to you coming out. It had been years since you had seen him, and you definitely had not wanted to see him yet. The night ended with you and your cousin screaming and arguing over respecting your elders, even if they disrespect you.

You ended up apologizing to your grandfather for the scene and coming home three days earlier than planned. You spent the remainder of your time away from Abbott making lesson plans, and trying to come up with more projects to get your kids excited to learn. The four pints of ice cream you went through did nothing to soothe your emotions.

“That must’ve been nice! I miss my grandpa. When I was little, he used to take me and my sister…” her voice trailed off as you pulled your mind back into school mode. After you had finished your lunch, you made your way straight to your classroom, not even bothering to bid farewell to a soul in the break room. Not a single one of those souls missed the frown that donned Melissa’s face as you left without saying goodbye, though no one was brave enough to call attention to her suddenly soured mood.

It took all of two minutes before Melissa was out of her seat, and marching down the hall towards your room. The bell rang as she was halfway to your room, signaling that her little eagles would be on their way back to her room. She muttered to herself, something about “saved by the bell” and “stinkin’ sunshine anyway,” and turned to meet her kids in her class.

The rest of the day went by without any major disasters. Other than the usual messes, and small arguments, the children were well-behaved, and your mode started to lift slightly. Being back in your class was bringing a sense of normalcy that you needed after the break. You were reminded that these kids look up to you and really do care for you as much as you do for them.

After dismissal, you gathered your things and made your way to the parking lot, avoiding goodbyes for the second time that day. It wasn’t that you were avoiding them per se, you just didn’t have the energy to be the happy-go-lucky person you try to be when at school, and you didn’t want any of your friends to see you like this.

It took an entire week back from break before you were finally feeling like yourself again. You had avoided any and all unnecessary interaction between your coworkers, which was surprisingly difficult, especially by Wednesday when Melissa had begun to try and seek out interactions with you. You taught kindergarteners, so the only teacher you couldn’t avoid at all costs was Barb, and she seemed to understand you needed space, so she only approached you if she absolutely had to. Thankfully, she hadn’t needed much, so you were able to keep to yourself all week.

Having to endure the entire week without you, got Melissa thinking. On Tuesday, she had thought maybe she had done or said something that crossed the line. Whether or not your cute little laughs had grown on her, she was still a Schemmenti, and Schemmentis had attitude. But between not talking to anybody the day before, and now you’re not at lunch, she realized she might miss that laugh a little more than she wanted to.

On Wednesday, she decided she’d find you and apologize. If she had hurt your feelings, she would actually feel a little bad. You had been a whole ass ray of blinding sunshine for three years, never once faltering at any of her quips, jokes, or all out insults, and if she had really gotten you with one, she hadn’t meant to. Especially not now, not when your smiles were make or break for her day, and your tears made her want to bare knuckle fist fight anyone who made you feel like shit.

Thursday morning brought fumes for Melissa. She hadn’t seen you in the parking lot before school, the break room for coffee, or first recess break, which she knew that you shared with her. And if anyone asks, no, she was not looking forward to seeing you or that beautiful smile that made her question everything or the way you clearly cared about every single student within these walls. She was definitely just upset because clearly you were shirking on your duties, that’s all. It was only during her planning period that she calmed down, and it was due mostly in part because of Barb joining the hot-headed Italian and expressing her concern for you. Realizing that Melissa was not the only teacher at Abbott that you had been avoiding made it slightly more bearable for the woman.

Then came Friday. The morning had been a nightmare for you, starting with waking up late, burning breakfast, and then forgetting your packed lunch right there on the counter in the kitchen. You got to work, and decided to sit in your car to decompress for a moment. Across the parking lot, you saw Melissa getting out of her car and start looking around, probably looking to see if Barb was here already. You were surprised when her eyes stopped on your vehicle, and she started making a beeline towards you. When she got close enough, you two locked eyes, and she began talking. You couldn’t understand her, of course. You were still sitting in your car, in shock that she had sought you out. You opened your door and the barrage of words was audible.

“-get off thinking that you can become a staple in my routine and then disappear? You got some nerve! You can’t just come in and make it all sunshiney and make everyone like you, and then avoid us all! Some of us rely on your insufferable chipperness, ya know?”

The funk of your last week was washed away in an instant as you realized something. Here Melissa Schemmenti was, scolding you, infuriated because she hadn’t seen you for a week. The last three months of you giving her the biggest smiles you could muster and the politest compliments you could think of, had worked.

“Hello?” Melissa’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “You got anything to say for yourself?”

You grinned mischievously before replying. “You missed me, Schemmenti, didn’t ya?” You saw her soften slightly. Unbeknownst to you, she was flooded with relief. Barb had been growing increasingly worried about you, which of course only raised Melissa’s concern tenfold.

“How can I not miss my sunshine?” She asked with a smile. A real, genuine smile. You would’ve noticed her blush, had you not been too worried about hiding your own. “Just don’t take it away again, ya hear?”

———

“There’s my sunshine!” Melissa was leaning against the doorframe of your classroom with her arms folded across her chest, and a beautiful smile radiating across the room. It was the last day of school and you were just finishing packing the last of your things to head home for the summer. The months since winter break had brought a friendship between you, Melissa, Barb and Jacob that you had never thought would be possible. The four of you had become inseparable, sharing laughs and jokes amongst your days of dealing with the children of chaos, though you wished for more than friendship with one of them.

You looked up at her and smiled. She took your breath away. The last few years with Melissa took your emotions on a rollercoaster. The process from moving from enemies to friends was a long one, but it took no time at all for your good platonic feelings to turn into something very less platonic. You thought about all the work you did to become her friend, and decided you weren’t willing to risk losing that. Not yet.

So instead, you settled with the fact that for now, Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you anymore. “Hey, Mel. You, Barb, and Jacob ready to go?” She nodded and you followed her into the hall, meeting up with the other two of the Fearsome Foursome (Jacob’s idea), and heading out to dinner with your best friends.

As far as Melissa was concerned, she thought as she walked with her friends out of Abbott Elementary, she didn’t need to label whatever it was she was feeling for you. You had brought a sunshine into her life that penetrated all the dark little corners of her heart, and she’d be damned if anyone tried to take her sunshine away.

[sebscore]

if you feel comfortable doing so, how do you think the grid would react if gzd was going through a rough patch and she’s being like really quiet and in her head?

i’m kinda slipping back into this era and i just need the grids comfort

THIS IS ALL I NEVER WANTED

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader / daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x sebastian vettel

warnings: reader feels defeated and is ready to give up. swearing. mention of sexism.

author’s note: the comfort fic is finally hear, lmao :) sorry that it took me this long, got caught up with gentle hit, but it’s here now !!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''That's the car of Y/L that goes into the gravel- another DNF for the young driver.'' Crofty commented as he watched her retire from the fight for the third consecutive race. 

Meanwhile in the car, Y/N's radio was bombarded by her engineer. ''We're so sorry, Y/N. A podium was possible, but we'll keep pushing harder for next time. We'll debrief.'' Marco apologised, frustration and guilt audible in his voice. 

''Understood.'' The indifferent tone came as a surprise to the team and viewers, but it was understandable as the driver hadn't been able to finish a race in over a month. 

The ride back to the paddock was humiliating to say the least. The pitiful looks from fans, the judging eyes of critics and the loud whispers didn't do much to brighten the dark cloud that was her mind. 

Her post-race interviews also weren't a great help to her already declining confidence. 

''It's the third consecutive DNF for you- how are you managing to stay positive and to not lose hope in the car?'' Nathalie asked her, sounding compassionate. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Nothing is positive at all,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I think I'm doing everything right and then it all goes wrong for some reason.'' 

''I'm working hard with the team, but it doesn't seem like it's paying off at the moment. I'm just very disappointed and I- yeah, well, I hate the car.'' 

The reporter in front of her wasn't used to the visible pessimism of the female driver. Y/N was known for her cheerful and up-beat character, always open for a chat and ready to take on any challenge. That figure seemed to be missing at the moment. 

''I hope it gets better for you, Y/N. You're an amazing driver and I wish you good luck for the next race weekend, thank you so much for talking to us.'' Nathalie rounds up the interview before signalling to her cameraman to stop the filming. 

Y/N was about to leave, but a gentle grab of her wrist stopped her. ''Hey, darling- don't let this get you down, alright? There are many people rooting for you here, me included, and we all want to see you do well. You have incredible talent and we know these lasts results aren't a reflection of that.'' 

The Sky Sports presenter had a soft spot for the young woman ever since her arrival to the paddock. Nathalie has always been amazed by Y/N's ability to shrug off all the sexist remarks and to prove the people that doubt her wrong. 

''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' The soft smile on Y/N's face was a fake one, even a child could spot that. However, her words and gratefulness were genuine and that's all that mattered to Nathalie. 

The driver moved quickly between the different journalists, not in the mood for the long and lovely chats that would have happened had she crossed the chequered flag. ''If one more person reminds me of all the DNF's, I'm going to knock myself out with one of these microphones.'' She mumbled to her team's press officer, making the woman laugh but also look at Y/N with a bit of concern. 

Luckily for her, all the media responsible people must have listened to her prayers and went easy on her- maybe sensing her agitation and worsened mood. She and her press officer moved back to the team's hospitality, where a dreaded team briefing would take place. 

''Obviously these aren't the results that we want. We want wins, podiums and points.'' Her team principal started off the meeting, standing at the head of the table. ''It is clear that changes need to be made, whether that be the car, the strategy or the driver even.'' The eyes of the team shifted from their leader to the young woman staring daggers at him. 

''It's not my fault that the fucking engine blows up or that another drivers decides he wants to play bumper cars.'' Y/N defended herself, not seeing why she should be replaced. 

He shook his head. ''I didn't say it was your fault, but we have to look at all the options and that includes you, Y/N.'' The man clarified, taking a deep breath. 

The woman rolled her eyes, causing Marco to send her a stern look that said ''Please, don't make this harder on yourself.'' She got his sign and sat up straight in her chair, figuring her slumping didn't give off a great impression. 

The briefing continued for another hour, going over all the alternatives they had and all the work they had to do while waiting for the next race weekend. ''Alright- thank you, everyone! Have a great break.'' The team principal dismissed the team. 

Y/N was the first one to get up and leave, debating if she would slam the door, but she didn't want a Kevin x Guenther moment with her boss. 

By the time she was on her way to her hotel, most fans had gone home themselves and the paddock was occupied by crew members cleaning the place up. Y/N had a slow pace while walking, not in any hurry to leave the circuit. 

''You're going back to the hotel?'' A voice behind her spoke up, making the female driver yelp as she didn't expect someone to walk up on her. 

Y/N turned around, Lando looking at her with a grin. ''Did I scare you?'' He laughed, finding amusement in making his friend flinch. 

''You could have been a serial killer for all I know, you idiot.'' She slapped his arm, the tension leaving her body as it was only Lando and not some creep. 

''Only on track.'' He winked. 

The young woman frowned at his action. ''Please, never do that again.'' Her feigned disgust with his wink resulted in a light push from her friend. 

''So… you're going to the hotel now?'' Lando asked her again, not having received an answer yet. 

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, I could use some sleep before the flight tomorrow.'' 

''You, uh, wanna take a car together to the hotel? You know- that way we're not wasting gas, I guess.'' He nervously asked, mumbling the question almost under his breath. 

''Sure,'' Y/N chuckled, ''Seb will be proud of us.'' 

They decided to take his car as she wasn't in the mood to drive anymore and Lando didn't seem to mind. She was grateful for Lando's company, at least her bad day would end on a good note. 

''Sorry about the race today, I know you could have done more.'' Despite being competitors, they were also great friends and it's not fun seeing your friends have bad results. 

Y/N sighed. ''My team- they're, uh, thinking about replacing me.'' She wanted to get her worries off of her chest and Lando bringing up the race seemed like the perfect oppurtunity for it. 

''What?'' He exclaimed, not anticipating that sentence to come out of her mouth. 

''They say they just have to think about all the changes they could make to get better results, but they've been talking an awful lot about the junior drivers so I'm just preparing myself for it.'' She clarified for him, resting her head against the window. 

Lando let her words sink in. ''They- they can't possibly do that, you're one of the best drivers on the grid.'' It came out louder than he intended, but the thought of one of his best friends not being with him on track anymore upsets him. 

''They can do that,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I'm impressed I lasted this long- I just know the FIA will be throwing a party now that they don't have to be feminists anymore.'' 

''What do you mean 'lasted'? You're not going anywhere, we have enough races left where you can show your true skills.'' Lando took his eyes off the road to look her in the eye, perhaps wanting her to see how serious he was. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any further. 

The car stopped in front of a red light. ''Hey,'' Lando put his hand on top of hers, ''I'm being serious. We've been racing against each other for over 10 years now- you're a good driver. You'll probably be a World Champion one day.'' 

''You really mean that?'' Her usual confident demeanour had been traded in for an insecure one, her voice coming out smaller than normal. 

He chuckled, nodding his head. ''Of course, I wouldn't lie to you.'' The gentle way he was looking at her assured her that he was in fact being serious and meant everything he said. 

''Thank you,'' Y/N turned her hand and squeezed Lando's, ''now, shut up and drive me to the hotel!'' She pushed his hand away. ''Enough of this emo shit.'' 

''This is the one time I am being nice to you and you just reject my love.'' 

''Stop being so emotional, Norris.'' 

''There she is!'' Daniel loudly announced as Y/N stepped onto the plane, his hands up in the air. 

She tiredly waved at everyone, exhausted from the lack of sleep she had gotten. The young woman groggily sat down next to her Australian colleague, Michael sitting in front of them. 

Daniel snickered at her disoriented state. ''Good morning to you, mate.'' He greeted her, his infamous bright smile on his face. 

''It's fucking early, what are you so happy about?'' She mumbled, while trying to find a good sleeping position. 

''I'm grateful that I get to live another beautiful day, Y/N! We don't appreciate our existence enough, we need to-''

''I'll be grateful for my life when you shut up and let me sleep.'' She interrupted him, closing her eyes and pulling her hat slightly over her face. 

The McLaren driver opted for another teasing comment, but he could see the obvious exhaustion she had going on and let her be, a light pat on the shoulder working as his way to say ''have a good nap''. 

About an hour later the turbulence of the plane woke her up from her much needed sleep. Y/N took her hat off and noticed Daniel still awake, scrolling on his phone while listening to music through his headphones. 

A soft push against his arm brought his attention from his device to the woman next to him, immediately smiling upon seeing that she's awake. ''Sleepyhead.'' 

The beam on his face slowly changed into a nervous frown, worrying his friend. ''What is it? The reality of life finally settled in?'' Y/N awkwardly said, trying to cheer him up. 

''No, uh, it's just that uhm interview you did with Nathalie yesterday- I watched it.'' He answered, sympathy written all over his face. 

''Oh,'' she sat up straight in her seat, ''well, you know it was just after the race so obviously I was very frustrated. You know how it is.'' The driver tried to come off as nonchalant, failing horribly. 

''Lando told me, Y/N.'' Daniel revealed, wanting her to drop the 'it's not a big deal'-act. 

She sighed. ''Oh, that little snake.'' She muttered under her breath. 

''No, I'm glad that he told me. He said he's never seen you so defeated and the way you were talking to Nathalie- you haven't given up, have you?'' Daniel had seen how her recent race results had affected her, but he wasn't aware how deep her frustrations and insecurities had settled in. 

Her silence to his question was an answer in itself. 

''You've been working your ass off since you were like what? 5-6? You're not gonna throw all of that away just because of 3 bad races, right? That's nothing like you.'' The Australian ranted, baffled over her ruined confidence. 

Y/N glanced outside her window, seeing they were high above the clouds. ''I'm not throwing anything away, it's just… my teams seems to have already made up their mind and are just waiting on the right time to tell me that someone else is taking my place.'' The young woman clarified, her words not helping Daniel's growing worries. 

''They would be fucking idiots to replace you, you know that.'' He sneered, rolling his eyes at the thought of another person driving in her seat. 

She weakly chuckled at his response, not finding much humour in the insult to her bosses. 

Daniel's shoulder gently pushed against hers. ''Hey, maybe you need to talk to Seb or Lewis, they're better at this pep-talk shit than I am.'' He suggested, figuring the two older men might have more of an influence on her. 

Y/N let his words process for a few seconds, considering seeking a listening ear in either of the world champions. ''I- I don't know, Dan. They probably have better things to do.'' 

''Like what?'' 

''I don't fucking know- planting trees, feeding Roscoe, whatever.'' She blurted out, making both of them laugh at the random activities they could be doing. 

''Just think about it, I think you'd feel a lot better after talking to one of them.'' Daniel didn't want to push her, knowing it would have the opposite effect on what he wanted for her. 

A tired smile made its way onto her face. ''I will, thank you.'' 

''Good,'' his face mirrored hers, ''and if they do replace you, they're just like Netflix.'' 

''Like Netflix?'' 

''A bunch of cunts.'' 

''I've never seen her that quiet.'' Sebastian mumbled to the Brit next to him, observing the young woman who sat slumped over in her chair. 

Lewis looked over at her, being as equally bewildered as his German colleague. ''I don't blame her, all the stuff they've been saying about her is awful.'' He whispered back. 

''What do you mean?'' Sebastian frowned. 

The Mercedes driver uncomfortably shifted in his head, leaning more towards his friend. ''People have been saying a lot of shit on social media and those fucking annoying journalists certainly don't help. Also, that interview their team principal did.'' 

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mention. ''Hanna showed me, that was so out of line. He knows people have been wanting her out since the day she got in- shame on him for making all of that so public.'' 

Her team principal had given a quite lengthy interview over the break between the race weekends, publicising the team's problems and their possible solutions, which included a hint to a potential driver change-up. 

''None of the DNF's were even her fault, it's absolutely ridiculous.'' The slander on her name greatly upset Lewis, aware of the talent she possessed and it made him angry that there was even a chance that she might not be on the grid with them the next year. 

''I know and it has taken such a toll on her, Daniel said he talked to her, but I'm a little worried.'' The Aston Martin driver told Lewis, his puzzled look turning into one of sadness. 

The Brit scratched his voice. ''Maybe you can give her some confidence? You've known her for a long time, I'm sure she'll appreciate it.'' 

Sebastian slowly nodded his head, figuring the World Champion might be right. ''Yeah, I'll talk to her later.'' He confirmed, still watching the obvious daydreaming woman from across the room. 

The driver's briefing went on for about half an hour more, the director seeing the visible boredom on every person's face and calling it a day for everyone. 

Y/N couldn't have been more relieved that the meeting was finally over, wanting nothing more than going back to her own hospitality and figuring out ways to make the car work, and actually finish this time around. 

She was one of the last people to leave the briefing room, only George, Lewis and Sebastian walking behind her. The latter tapping her shoulder. ''Hey, haven't talked to you today.'' 

''Yeah, lots of briefings with the team, you know.'' The younger one responded, giving him a quick glance. 

''How's that going?'' 

The woman remained silent for a few moments, considering how much she should tell her mentor about the current state of her place in the team. ''Uhm, well, it's going… decent, I guess.'' Y/N muttered, trailing off. 

''Decent?'' Sebastian repeated, as if asking ''are you serious?'' 

''There are like a bunch of reporters around us, what do you want me to say?'' She replied, a defensive tone to her voice. 

The German patted her back, sensing her agitation. ''It's okay, let's discuss somewhere private.'' He calmed her down, suggesting a different place to have a conversation. 

''Okay.'' 

They opted for her personal driver's home, that being the closest space where they could talk with just the two of them. Some of her team's staff had given the Aston Martin driver some weird looks while they walked through the hospitality, but he brushed them off. 

The pair sat down on her small couch once they arrived, not much space between them. 

Y/N felt some nerves settling in her stomach as she waited for Seb to start speaking, not knowing what he was going to tell her. 

''I'm just gonna be straightforward,'' he started off, ''you can't continue with this attitude, cause you're only setting yourself up. You are a great driver, Y/N. We all have our off weeks, we're not perfect.'' 

''I understand that this isn't a nice situation to be in. Trust me, this green vegetable that I'm driving isn't doing much better at the moment,'' he chuckled, making her crack a smile, ''but if there's one person that can completely turn their season around, it's you.'' 

Y/N avoided eye-contact with him, not sure how to respond to his kind and encouraging words. ''I appreciate that, Seb. I'm not giving up, it's just… very difficult and people are constantly bringing it up, and making articles and shit- that doesn't help me at all. I'm still gonna do my best, but… yeah- it's just difficult.'' 

''I know it's hard and I've heard the media has been hard on you. That's what they do and they see you as an easier target for clicks and whatnot,'' Sebastian rolled his eyes at his own mention of the media, ''But you're better than believing their words.'' 

''You are a talented driver, you have so much potential. Do you think I would have spent all these years with you if I thought you shouldn't be in F1?'' He asked her, a look on his face that told her he wanted an answer. 

The young woman timidly shook her head. ''No, you wouldn't have done that.'' 

Sebastian smiled at her response. ''See?'' He put his arm around her, pulling her closer into him. ''Whether you believe it or not, you're leading this new generation. You're a decent car away from being a World Champion, you know that right?'' 

''Did you talk to Lando? He also said that.'' Y/N nervously grinned. 

''Just accept the truth!'' The German squeezed her shoulders. ''You've proven that you can do anything. You don't want to let down all those young girls that started karting because of you, right? What message would it send to all of them that their role model quit, because she got bumped off the road or her car simply decided to turn itself off.'' 

''You're right,'' she sighed, admitting to herself she needed to drop the pessimistic attitude, ''I don't just owe it to myself, but also to them.'' 

Sebastian nodded along to her words, letting out a deep breath. ''I'm relieved you're seeing it, I don't like seeing you like this. It's weird not seeing you smile or making fun of the drivers.'' He smirked, patting her shoulder. 

''I guess everyone deserved an off-day, tomorrow I'll start again.'' Y/N grinned, laughing at Sebastian's reminder of her fondness to poke fun at their colleagues. 

The senior driver gave her one last squeeze and stood up from the couch, adjusting his pants. ''No more frowns, alright? You're gonna do great this weekend and you're gonna show everyone why you deserve your seat.'' 

Y/N nodded, more confident than when she first walked back into her driver's room. ''Yes, I'm gonna do my best, Seb.'' 

They bumped their fists as if to solidify it was going to be a great race weekend for them both. 

''And go easy on me tomorrow with the teasing.'' 

''I'd rather be run off the track again then let that happen.''

taglist :: @cl16version @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads

@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1

[hiraethminds]

This is a tangent, I'm here to entertain with needless rambling

The deep rooted hatred for taco I see in the II community genuinely concerns me. Especially since those people tend to be Mephone "apologists"(For lack of a better word, I love Mephone don't get me wrong) despite how taco is the "active" side of the coin to his "passive". The connections between them are there trust me Im connecting the dots. Ive connected them.

I understand that she's done bad things, but blaming her for her shortcomings when she doesn't and never had the same support group to change as Mephone did makes me a little ehh.. Getting upset because Microphone showed her support in the new episodes simply because you don't like the ship(I understand why people wouldnt but thats not an excuse to deny her anything), and because Taco doesn't know how to change yet and you refuse to see her as anything redeemable. I'm not big on shipping, thats not the point of this tangent, but Taco finally having someone to support her and help her change is a GOOD thing. Microphone was being the bigger person there, she was being mature and thoughtful because Taco clearly needs the help. The fact that people continue to deny Taco any kind of growth even if she goes about it in the wrong way makes me deeply uncomfortable. Because the moment any character does anything bad that isn't HER they don't say anything about it. She was shunned by her peers because she was playing the game and continued to 'play the game' so to speak.

Theres a deep rooted hint of misogyny in the way they treat her, but I wont yap about that you dont need to read allat.

I understand people have reasons for not liking characters! That's ok. But I've seen them actively go out of their way to harass people that DO like Taco and actively criticize enjoying her character.

They tend to take it as defending her actions. Which is not what's happening. I don't think oscommunity could handle vriska is all I'm saying.

Feel free to not answer this I just need whatever little imp is telling me to scream about it to get out. go draw a taco dis is driving me crazy

Thank you for dumping this in my inbox bigbarf200, I feel like a wise confidant.

okay so I don't interact/observe with the wider ii community (Mainly cuz i like playing with my touys without being bothered) So this information is so Interesting to me!!!

As you mentioned, the hate might stem from misogyny (and by the way, I’d love to read your essay—talk all you want, my friend!). This is a societal issue that affects every part of life.

That said, I also think some people might dislike her simply because she’s a hustler and stubborn. When she has a goal, she’ll do whatever it takes to achieve it, even if it means crossing into morally gray areas.

holding Mepad hostage > hijacking the show

lying and deceiving objects with good intentions > winning s1

seriously hurting Fan > winning Mic immunity

as you said in the greater scheme of things, she's genuinely done horrible things. But if you just accept that at face value you are missing out on such an amazing character. You have to consider her perspective and the circumstances of her birth (especially in a story like ii!!) to fully understand and come to an option on her. But I digress this is baby level analysis so ill move on.

people who think Mic being friendly towards Taco post e14 is out of character are misunderstanding Microphone as both a character and thematic device I think

that's literally the only rational reason I could think of as to why people would be mad about taco and mic being on good terms???

so yeah, these haters just sound like crazy irrational people who have a lot of pent-up emotions. crazy

anyways ty!!! I feel like I didn't have alot to add since, as stated, these people are just incredibly irrational. but its nice getting an earful of whagh the fuck the community is like. here are soem taco drawings for the occasion

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

what are your thoughts on the ministrife situation? imo literally the worst fate for eridan to be damned to tbh

i think he will eventually (after <5 minutes) just shoot cronus and leave. (CW for mentions of abuse and cronus's romantic grossness and stuff under the cut).

Ignoring the extremely creepy and gross fact that Hussie doesn't seem to have a problem with the age gap (it's There, we've acknowledged that it's creepy and weird, i personally think it highlights how immature the dancestors are despite their physical age, and it actually serves to hint at how trash they are, but it's still really uncomfortable in the moment and never gets properly called out. In any case we've talked about it critically, we can move on and talk about characterization now), he and cronus are actually kind of polar opposites. Given that Cronus, along with many of the dancestors, are riffing on what the fandom interpretation of their Alternian counterparts are, it's kind of a fascinating look at all the things Eridan ISN'T.

The fandom (especially at the time) had flattened Eridan down to "overdramatic Nice Guy hipster who won't stop hitting on people," with varying degrees of sympathy. In other words, they took all of Eridan's outward presentation - the narration calling his genuine anxiety and distress "overblown emotional theatrics," the fact that his being rejected was a running gag - entirely at face value, while also missing what sort of archetype he was actually supposed to represent.

At no point does Eridan ever actually mention a hipster interest, like vintage clothes or indie media. It's all entirely in his design and Karkat calling him a hipster (it's not even in his character introduction), so presumably, it IS a part of his character (Karkat knows him really well), but it's probably a part he keeps to himself, like his love of wizards.

Moreover, he isn't really a Nice Guy. The closest he gets is thinking Nepeta owes him a chance for saving her life, but as far as we can tell, he only ever asked her once, got rejected, accepted that rejection, and has never taken out that rejection on her. When he complains about it, he frames it as a bitter "I guess what I did wasn't enough," not "she's an unreasonable witch withholding romance from me even though I'm so nice to her." All other romance attempts are crimes of... just being way too forward.

He bursts into Kanaya's DMs demanding she auspicetisize with Vriska because... that's what she likes to do, right? The same happens to Terezi in [S] Karkat: Wake Up. He comes on strong in Rose's DMs and after getting a little annoyance back, goes "wow, we kinda have something," and does not realize her blowing up his computer is a rejection because she didn't explicitly tell him no and he's a dumbass. And even though he's nasty at Sollux because emotionally, he's still bitter about Sollux "stealing" Feferi from him, at least CONSCIOUSLY he's recognized the rejection on both fronts and has repeatedly told Feferi that he has no more interest in getting back together with her, in spite of her recognizing that he's emotionally not over her. And speaking of Feferi, his confession to her is entirely genuine and respectful toward her feelings. At no point does he indicate that he feels like she owes him a date.

These aren't Nice Guy actions, they're "I have 0 social skills or self-awareness" actions. And also a little bit "due to my trauma and anxiety and desensitization to murder, I struggle to care about other people" actions. He's not even actually casteist or genocidal - I spent an entire essay arguing that.

But regardless, that's what the fandom ran with, in large part because they didn't bother reading between the lines. Ironically, like Eridan, they just believed what he told them. I don't even necessarily blame the fandom - at least part of this obfuscation was intentional, and a clever trick on the part of the writing. By highlighting Eridan at his worst, and having the narration be complicit in his self-delusion and mockery, the story is able to put the audience in the same mindset as his in-universe bullies - Eridan is dumb weirdo whose emotional problems are worthy of ridicule, not sympathy. Let's all point and laugh!

This sets up his meltdown to be more of a twist - even though his literal introduction is him killing something and talking about genocide, the very real danger he poses is forgotten both by the audience and the other characters because they've gotten so used to dismissing his feelings that they ignore his cries for help and the warning signals he gives off. And it makes his character more relevant and meaningful, because this happens in real life all the time - I'm sure we either all either knew, or were, the friendless weirdo at school who, upon reflection, definitely had either some bad shit going on at home or severe and untreated mental illness (or both).

The reason I'm bringing up this fandom misinterpretation is because, like a couple other dancestors, Cronus is very much a riff on the fanon version of his Alternian counterpart. Unlike Eridan, who's not actually casteist, but desperately trying to act the part, Cronus IS a casteist sea dweller who thinks he's better than lowbloods and land dwellers. Unlike Eridan, who seeks emotional connections with others, and accepts rejections, Cronus is only looking for some action, and keeps trying even well after he knows he's been rejected. Unlike Eridan, who's so consumed by anxiety and trauma that he's pretty much unable to function properly, Cronus DOES exaggerate his problems and explicitly leverage them for attention and sympathy. And unlike Eridan, who feels crushed under the weight of duty and responsibility, and tends to blame himself when things go wrong, Cronus refuses to take responsibility for anything, immediately blaming anybody BUT himself.

They're practically exact opposites, and this is, again, a clever trick on the part of the writing. It's an excellent usage of a foil: though superficially similar, the differences between these two really serves to highlight just how much Eridan is NOT the things that Cronus IS.

And it's especially interesting given that Eridan spent his entire life trying to emulate Dualscar, to the point of modeling his outfit after the guy. To him, it was not only his duty, but his inevitable fate, to wind up as Dualscar's successor. And when he finally meets the guy in person, his opinion is "even I think you're trash."

If that isn't a form of rejecting the values his society has told him repeatedly that he has to uphold, maybe in the service of perhaps setting up some sort of redemption arc or something, I don't know what is.

I've seen people point to this moment as kind of a hee haw funny one-off joke, look at how little Hussie cares about Eridan, but that's not what it is to me. You don't really need to say anything more about their relationship to each other. Eridan thinks Cronus (and by extension, everything Cronus stands for - and everything Eridan has tried to be) is garbage, but is lonely and friendless and desperate enough that he feels pushed into accepting it anyway. It's extremely consistent with his characterization and character arc.

So uh, yeah. Join me next time for more deep dives on how this funny innocuous thing in Homestuck actually Means Something.

[bambi-kinos]

A question to be taken lightly but not meant to offend you or anything. But who was/ is the walrus? like in the video, in the song(s) and what can it mean, really? ( I "know" the "official" content) but I don't really believe neither wrote songs w/o meaning anything or used double meaning words for nothing. I also don't think everything has a meaning or an answer.

I think the concept of the Walrus is amorphous and shifted around depending on their moods. A meaning can't be pinned down because the meaning changes depending on the context. The most reliable interpretation of the Walrus is that it demonstrates John's mindset depending on how he uses it. Otherwise I don't think there's anything special about the Walrus in of itself.

So the official story is that John wrote I Am The Walrus to get back at the people who were convinced that every Beatles song had a special encoded meaning. John responded with one of his nonsense poems and he ended up choosing Lewis Carrol's creation The Walrus as a touchstone. Right? Right.

There used to be a post floating around waxing rhapsodic about how John modeled himself on the Walrus and Paul on the Carpenter and this was because the Carpenter could ONLY be Paul and zomg you guiz SYMBOLISM. It was all so intentional!!! (Personally I think that shit gets more and more pretentious the more I think about it.)

It's a cute idea but it's missing out on one important factor: John didn't think in those terms. There is a connection between him, Paul, and Carroll in John's mind but it would only make sense to John and perhaps Paul. When John says he wrote it to bite back at critics, who were using their Ovaltine decoder rings trying to figure out the DEEP INTENTIONAL SYMBOLISM OF BEATLE SONGS, I think he meant it. He made the Walrus a touchstone because John loved Carroll's wordplay and poetry. They were aiming for an animal motif and it fit. It was a cute shorthand nod to his genuinely sociopathic partner, John got to watch a bunch of overeducated pencil jockeys trying to figure it all out, he laughed, good times had by all. The important part is that it wasn't a big deal.

But for John there was dismay on the way. People would not shut the fuck up about the Walrus and what it meant and John is getting increasingly angry because it doesn't mean anything and now a bunch of people are getting fired up over nothing and OOOOHHH GLASS ONIONNNNNN. So John puts in the Walrus again on Plastic Ono Band, again as a big middle finger to all of these blowhards and me-tooers all pulling on his coattails going "hey John! hey John! what about the Beatles! what about the Beatles John! what does it all mean John!" So John writes "I was the walrus but now I'm John" on the track God. The Walrus itself still does not mean anything to John, he's just weaponizing the perceptions of fans against themselves. In their minds "the Walrus" represented The Beatles and John's own Beatleness and John knew that. The boomer fans at the time were absolutely convinced that I Am The Walrus was a secret masterwork of unbreakable code...simply because they didn't understand it. "I don't get it so it must be super deep!"

And the thing is John hated that kind of thinking. He appreciated mystery sure but he was a lot more invested in accessibility. He wanted art to be for everyone, he wanted everyone to invest their own meaning into art. That was why he was so taken with Yoko in the first place, because Yoko's artwork is based in creating open ended experiences where the art itself is created by the thoughts and feelings and sensations you experienced while you interact with her exhibits. You don't get in the bag to look cool, you do it so you can have the experience of being in the bag, even if it was just "well that sucked." What John loved about it was the "YES" factor, that Yoko Ono wants the audience to create the art with her by interacting with her exhibits. Art is not a static thing where you sit on your ass and stare at it or listen to it, art is the thing that happens inside your head when you hear "I am the Eggman/I am the walrus/googoo gah joob" and think "what the fuck does that mean" and then you develop a personal interpretation with your thoughts and feelings that belongs to you and you alone. (And that is why Yoko is actually kinda underrated! She was too hip for the room man. You just don't get it man....)

But the fans and overeducated idiots didn't want to do that. They wanted strict prescriptions for interpreting Beatle music. Many fans refused to appreciate I Am The Walrus for what it is: a silly and slightly lewd/violent nonsense poem John probably worked out on the back of an envelope. (Written with Paul's bottom as a table, I'm sure.) They wanted it to be more than it was instead of appreciating the joy that John gifted them by singing the song for them.

So John turned it around on them in God and on Plastic Ono Band. They want to believe in the Walrus so much? Fine. He'll kill the Walrus. It's dead. There is no more Walrus, there are no more Beatles, there is only John, and Yoko, and John&Yoko. The fans wanted the Walrus to mean something so badly that they strangled the poor thing to death and John had to put it out of its misery. That poor fucking creature, John just wanted it to amuse the children and look what the cretins made him do. The Walrus was supposed to be a cute nod to Lewis Carroll, not be a fucking Beatle thing!

It's important to note John's (warranted) bitter and volatile mindset towards the Beatles machine. I want to make a whole post about it someday but John was pretty furious and I think he was right to be. But he also chose to deal with it by killing what the fans loved. I think he was justified but also, oof.

Wrt the music video: I believe it's Paul in the Walrus costume right? George referenced this in the When We Was Fab music video where there's a left handed bass guitarist in the Walrus mask. So yes, there was a link to Paul and the Walrus in the beginning. I think this was part of John's private joke. Paul was the closest to his heart so of course Paul should get to play the character from John's favorite poet. John even references this in Glass Onion, the last time he tried throwing Paul a bone. But again, I don't think it meant anything overly deep or significant as a symbol in of itself. The Walrus doesn't mean anything innately.

But then we get into the interesting stuff: John referencing "the Walrus" in his Just Like Starting Over demo. Specifically referencing taking the Walrus back to bed! Well, well, well. And I believe there's an interesting line from Paul in 1979 isn't there where he says "I am the walrus/was the walrus but now I'm Paul" in an interview or something? I may be making that up, I'm not sure.

So what does this big slurry mean?

I think that the Walrus started out in John's mind as just a cute literary toy for Beatle fans to puzzle over. The overeducated and overeager pencil jockeys got one in the eye trying to make sense of gibberish and John got to indulge in his love of cosplay by sticking Paul in a Walrus suit. And it should have ended there, except it didn't, everyone and their dog assumed the Walrus meant something (what about the poor Eggman???) and John tried to pacify them and then that didn't work and then he goes FINE YOU DON'T GET TO HAVE A WALRUS ANYMORE. And he pulps the Walrus.

The change comes with John's shift in mood. Paul's arrest in Japan legitimately threw John for a loop IMO. That's when John started softening towards Paul, that's when Bermuda happened and his creativity came roaring back. The sudden reminder that he could lose Paul forever and then John's realization "I can steer my own ship, I'm in charge of my own life!" which resulted in John starting the process on leaving Yoko under his own power, a very vital point. John was getting his own divorce lawyer according to industry rumors. John was reemerging as the hero he needed to be to save himself and forgive Paul.

All of that culminated in "the time has come the walrus said/for you and me to stay in bed again." If the Walrus charts John's inner landscape and his personal feelings towards Paul then this means he was coming out of the fugue and wanted to dote on Paul again, like he used to. Figure out where they could go from here. And it seems John was very optimistic about his future with Paul to be perfectly honest. Taking Paul back to bed after all that time? And Paul seems to have been the one who instigated it! He was still hot for John! Whew!

So all that IMO is what the Walrus "really means." I don't think it's definitive and there's lots of stuff I am definitely missing and didn't include here. Someone I used to know once said she didn't put anything past John because he read everything and kept it all stored in his head, so who knows maybe the jerk off interpretation about the Walrus and the Carpenter and Paul is true.

But ultimately it's just a word with no genuine connection to its animal counterpart and the purpose of it is as a demonstration of John's personal thoughts and feelings mostly (but not always) relating to Paul McCartney.

[comphetkoncass]

silly prompts? silly prompts about dc characters? might i throw: cass cain interacting with crystal brown for you to consider and see if that might intrigue you?

ok so i had an idea the other day about like bruce sucking at being a girl dad and basically forgetting that periods exist. what if crystal brown filled this role instead?

also i KNOW you said silly but i am sooo bad at writing characters having an unabashedly good time so this is as fun and lighthearted as it gets. also remember when i said 1K is the max word count i can have. do you remember that. because not one of these has been under 1K lmao

////

Crystal Brown has just finished a 12-hour shift at the clinic and a half-hour commute to boot. She is ready for exactly one microwaveable meal, one chore-check to see if the dishes and laundry have gotten too dire before her next day off, and maybe one episode of shitty reality TV – The Bachelor – that Stephanie will usually sit with her and make fun of before a blissful eight hours of sleep. 

So she is surprised to hear the TV already turned on to her shitty reality TV. It’s odd. Stephanie never watches it without her. It's just not as fun for her to make fun of on her own, god forbid her irony-loving daughter watching a show purely for the love of watching it.

“Stephanie?” she calls as she sets her bags down. “I hope you’re not using up the pre-recordings, I don’t want to miss the finale.” 

No one answers. Crystal frowns. Maybe she left it on before she left? That would be terrible, she really was looking forward to the season finale, and it's so hard to find the pre-recordings after watching them. She doesn't want to have watched the entire season of The Bachelor just to miss the final episode. And this season was wild, especially after two of the girls left with each other instead, thus making one subsequent episode end with no one going home. Now that it's down to the final two as scheduled, Todd probably doesn’t deserve either Graciela or Kaiden, especially when Stephanie said Todd had at least two DUIs that his wealth and handsome face can’t quite distract from. But it’s fun to watch. It’s not meant to be critically examined, she keeps telling Stephanie. 

After she's unpacked the necessities from her purse and refilled her water bottle, she can't help but notice that a few other things are off about her home.

For one, there are more wrappers around the kitchen than usual. Stephanie isn’t the tidiest, but she usually at least throws things away after using them. 

Feeling a little frustrated, Crystal scoops the wrappers up, sighs pointedly, and tosses them before they can draw ants. She’ll definitely be talking with Stephanie about this. The last thing she needs after a 12-hour shift is to come home to a mess. 

“Stephanie,” she calls again, trying to keep her patience. “If you’re home, answer me.” 

And then, she has the sudden sensation of being watched.

Crystal tenses and stands up straight.

And just across the kitchen, standing at the other side of the island as if she's been here the entire time, is an unfamiliar asian girl, around Stephanie's age.

Crystal almost has a heart attack. Crystal holds a hand to her heart, prepared to fight if she needs to, because what the actual hell is this strange girl doing in her house? She opens her mouth to ask who she is and why she's watching TV in her house, when the girl speaks. 

"Not Stephanie," she says. "But... Hi, Stephanie's mom."

"Is there a reason you broke into my house, Not Stephanie?"

“Stephanie told me to come if there was … if I had an emergency. I thought she would come home first.” She glances at the suddenly wrapper-less countertop, and does look genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. Meant to clean up.”

Crystal looks at the girl closer. Even from across the countertop island, she can tell this girl is smaller than Stephanie. And, upon slightly closer examination, extensively scarred. 

Crystal has a bad feeling she knows just what activity Stephanie knows her from.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and gives herself just a moment to tamp down her frustration. But the girl hasn’t made a move to kill her, so if she’s a vigilante, she’s not that kind of vigilante. And she did say Stephanie had invited her. So for now, Crystal won’t kick her out. She looks seventeen, maybe nineteen at the most. She doesn't exactly look like a threat. 

And she did mention an emergency. 

“What is the emergency you came here for?” Crystal asks, with a herculean effort at being the adult in the room. 

“Bleeding.” 

Crystal’s brows raise. She looks at the girl’s extensive scarring, and despite being thoroughly tapped out of nurse mode after twelve hours on the clock, it doesn’t take that much effort to get back into it. At least it makes marginally more sense for Stephanie to have asked her friend to come here if she needed medical attention, though it's odd that the girl had expected Stephanie to be home first if that was the case. “Okay,” she says, professionally. She's already reaching for the first aid kit she keeps in her purse. “Where are you bleeding? I can stitch it, if you need, –I’m sorry, Stephanie didn’t mention you, can you tell me your name?” 

“Cassandra. Cass.” The girl, Cass, looks uncomfortable giving it. Or maybe uncomfortable at the thought of stitches. “It can be stitched?” 

“Well, where are you bleeding?”

"...Pelvis? Not sure what the right word is." Cass points down below. The kitchen island blocks her view, but it's clear she's indicating her pelvic and pubic area, somewhere in her inner groin. Crystal frowns. If this girl was hurt in such a sensitive area, it seems odd that Stephanie would just leave her alone here.

The more Crystal thinks about it though, the less she’s sure of what Cass means. Has she been cut? Is this a vaginal tear? Some combination of both? Sexual abuse isn’t exactly rare in Gotham, so it’s hard to rule anything out. Either way, it would definitely count as an emergency. Crystal just wishes she knew whether Cass was a minor or not – she’d need to ask different questions, and figure out whether or not CPS or the foster system needed to get involved, if so. 

She can’t do anything until she knows exactly what’s wrong, though. 

“Can you tell me a little bit more about how you got hurt? Is it a cut that needs stitches, or something else?”

“It doesn’t…” Cass frowns, looking like she’s struggling for the words. “Stephanie said it didn’t need stitches.”

“But it is a cut?”

“It's bleeding.” 

“Then whether it needs stitches is for a nurse to decide,” Crystal says, and is going to have A Talk with Stephanie about giving medical advice. “How long have you been bleeding? How much blood have you lost?” 

“Two days,” Cass says. “More blood than usual.”

And something shifts.  

Crystal tilts her head to the side. “When you say bleeding,” she says, calmly, “Does this bleeding happen often?” 

Cass makes a face as she thinks about it. “Not often,” she says. “A few times a year. More, now.” 

That doesn’t quite disprove Crystal’s theory, though it does mean there might be other complications. “When you talked with Stephanie about this earlier," she says, "Did Stephanie call it anything?”

“Shark week.” Cass wrinkles her nose.

Crystal heaves a deep sigh, changes the discussion she’s going to have with Stephanie to be one about properly naming medical terms, and puts the first aid kit away. “Okay,” she says, and mentally recalibrates most of their conversation. It now makes perfect sense. Of course Cass would be wary of being stitched up for menstruation. “Did she show you where the extra pads and tampons are? Or ibuprofen?” 

Cass shakes her head. 

“Alright then. Follow me,” Crystal says, and directs her to the bathroom, where Stephanie usually keeps extra pads and tampons. She realizes now that the girl’s comfortable pants are quite noticeably stained, even from the front, and she feels a pang of sympathy. She also, more self-interestedly, hopes that nothing else is stained. She can’t afford a new couch right now. 

Within a few minutes, Crystal has given the girl a new set of underwear and pants, taught her how to apply a pad, and given her a heating pad and some ibuprofen. 

(Apparently period cramps don’t hurt nearly as badly as being shot, but after some prodding, she did get Cass to admit that she was a little bit uncomfortable.)

After that, there’s not much to do. 

Crystal still wants her microwaved meal and to watch the season finale of The Bachelor. But she’s got the feeling that if she kicks this girl out, she won’t have anywhere else to go. And, well. The couch isn’t ruined, thanks to a few towels the girl had found instead. She's been polite enough, and she's not a threat. There’s no reason she can’t stay in the living room if she’s got nowhere else to go. 

So after some careful deliberation, Crystal pulls out two microwave meals, and heats them up simultaneously. 

They spin in the microwave for quite some time. 

After they're almost done, she asks, “Is Stephanie not coming home tonight?” 

Cass watches her curiously from across the kitchen. She shakes her head, no. 

“Well, I’m not waiting to watch the season finale without her,” Crystal says with an air of finality, and tries not to listen to the pang of anxiety that always comes with not knowing her daughter's whereabouts. They'll fight about it tomorrow, she knows. She just hopes that her daughter comes home by tomorrow. “You’ll just have to watch it with me instead.” 

Cass stares at her. 

The microwave dings, and Crystal pulls out two meals, handing one to her strange guest. “I hope you don’t mind Stouffers.” 

Cass takes it silently. Surprised, it seems, at the hospitality. Crystal is, too. 

As they settle in for the pre-recording, forks scraping the microwaveable plastic tins, Crystal feels strangely in sync with her guest. At least Cass, unlike Stephanie, seems to have a more honest appreciation of The Bachelor. 

“Kaiden doesn’t like him as much as Graciela does,” Cass comments mid-way through the finale. She shakes her head in disapproval as the episode cuts to commercial, right before Todd makes his final decision between the final girls. “They won’t be happy together if he chooses her.”

“I know,” Crystal says, shaking her head. “But Kaiden is rich, so Todd will probably pick her.” 

“Shallow,” Cass says, mouth half full. “Boo.” 

She sounds a little like Stephanie, and Crystal hides a smile in her next bite. “If it makes you feel better, Graciela is probably going to be on the next Bachelorette.”

Cass looks up, brows furrowed. “Bachelorette?”

“Well… yes. Instead of the girls competing for one boy, it's several boys competing for a girl.” Crystal has the spark of an idea. She hesitates, only for a moment. Then, “Do you... want to watch it together, when it comes out?” 

It’s a way to keep an eye on this strange, scarred friend of her daughter’s, who’s in her late teens and didn’t quite seem to understand periods. But, even more importantly, if she steals her daughter’s friend, maybe there’ll be some more earnest appreciation of reality TV in the Brown household. 

Cass looks at her for a long moment. Then, once and decisively, nods. “Yes,” she says, and then, as if only just remembering her manners, adds- “Yes, please.” 

“Well, the next season of the Bachelorette will start a month from now,” Crystal says. “You’ll probably need some more period supplies by then anyway. Stop by and we’ll get you fixed up with that, too.” 

Cass’s face changes a little, somewhere between confusion and surprise. She nods again, this time silently. Crystal doesn't press. She has a feeling that a month from now, her strange guest will have reappeared at the end of her shift.

At least by then, she'll have had a chance to buy a few extra period supplies and underwear. Just in case.

[genderqueerdykes]

Do you have like, some nice words?

Like I’m just so tired of how constant tme/tma speak is on my dash. Posts about how transfems should leave friend groups of “tmes” because they will inevitably be bigots

Why are half the popular transfems on this site horribly transphobic in their own right the moment a transmasc dares exist in their vicinity

Sorry I’m basically just venting in your inbox, thank you for being a breath of fresh air

i'm sorry you're dealing with this. it's natural to be worn down by this behavior, it's literal transphobia and intersexism and people just don't seem to care.

the tme/tma (transmisogyny exempt/transmisogyny affected) binary doesn't work. the issue is that in real life, most queerphobes you come across are assuming you are a trans woman. the average person associates the concept of transness with transfemininity on average, unless they personally know some transmascs or trans men, or are one. it's very rare to find a stranger who gets it. every time i come out to a stranger, they immediately switch to she/her pronouns, call me ma'am/miss/girl/etc., and ask what my "real" name is. it's really weird

transmasculine invisibility is a genuine issue offline. certain pockets of the internet are obsessed with hating trans men but that doesn't mean that the vast majority of people in the offline world know a damn thing about any of this. i do not ever have anyone understand that i mean i'm transmasculine when i say im trans. as i'm transmasc and transfem i don't really challenge it, but it sucks that people have one assumption and one only.

it happens with other queers. i moved in with a bunch of perisex trans femmes and was dating one for a while and flirting with a few others. my other roommate was a perisex cis gay man. i was the only intersex person who was there at the time, and i think a very small handful of others were around regularly, so there was a high chance that people should've been pretty informed about the existence of intersex identities. i know some people who came around pretty often were intersex, at least from my memory

the second people found out about my physical anatomy, they switched how they treated me. everyone thought i had a penis for some reason? and were made wildly uncomfortable upon finding out about it. when i revealed that i'm intersex & genderqueer, and that i'm bigender: a trans man, and a trans woman all hell broke loose suddenly nobody knew what to think or feel or anything.

people honest to god just defaulted to misgendering me.

and treating me like i was stupid as fuck.

this was the hardest part. i was being treated like i was dumb as HELL and it frustrated me to no end.

my emotions were "too much". i kept getting told i was too needy or whiny or possessive or that i needed too much of sometimes time or that i was touching the wrong things around the house. i kept being criticized for moving objects that impacted an environment i was allowed to work at. i was criticized for organizing a bookshelf i was asked to organize. i was ridiculed and insulted. my roommate and a girl who was flirting with me questioned my dissociative identity disorder, which i have plenty of medical records spanning back to 2017 from various doctors in various states and hospitals showing my diagnostic history with dissociation and dissociative disorders, and he also questioned my schizophrenia when i have records dating back to 2015 showing my history with severe psychotic episodes and the development of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type

i was no longer the arbiter of my own lived experience because everyone found out i didn't have a penis. i'm a vagina haver so i'm stupid. i'm dumb. i'm a cis woman. i'm faking. i'm not actually a man. well i am a man. i'm evil.

i'm breaking this silence on this garbage. it's time stop treating trans men and mascs this way. we're real people. we have real experiences. we are also being talked over. it really is possible to speak over us. it's happening right now. it doesn't need to. trans men talking about how we don't need to be seen this way isn't hurting trans women. we're being misgendered. we're being hurt by transandrophobic and misogynstic behavior. one does not need to hurt trans men in order to heal from one's own trauma with manhood. it won't help. it doesn't do anything

this is such a goddamn long ask but i wanted to thank you for this because your honesty and bluntness is what's needed right now. thank you to every trans man and transmasc speaking up about this right now. please feel free to send your own experiences with this because it's over. i'm not humoring it. i'm going to keep talking about it until people calm down and understand that conversations have multiple participants

i now more than ever want to actually focus on uplifting transmasculinity and trans men. i have been forcing myself to try to focus on a broader range of topics to avoid backlash but let's not start 2025 thinking we have to do this anymore. we literally don't. it's over. trans women are allowed to talk about the struggles we face. always and forever. but a trans man talking about their own experience is not an attack on you. and sometimes a trans man will give you criticism. and sometimes... you have to take it.

sometimes you have to take a trans man's criticism.

you really, really do.

and it's not the end of the world.

if a trans man tells you you're talking over them, you really should actually stop and step backwards and reassess what you said to them. you may have done it on accident. actually listen before you keep talking. if a trans man tells you they have a health condition, listen. don't participate in this behavior. there's literally no reason to think that trans men and mascs are too stupid to articulate our own experiences. it's ridiculous. that's how society treats women- you don't want to be treated that way! please don't do it to other people, especially people you view as women...

anyway i hope that this helps in any way. i'm just tired of this shit. i'm happy to start 2025 by completely and totally breaking the silence on transmasculine and trans male erasure. join me. we're not doing this shit anymore. we're starting this year off being more compassionate. we're starting off this year accepting that manhood isn't what has traumatized any of us, it's toxic masculinity, it's patriarchy, it's specific men. let's ditch this shit

[nozomi-kaizoku]

FASHION JIRAIS DNI /SRS

The thing that really annoys me about the reyinblack situation is how they're the ones telling us to "get help" even though a lot of us are already doing that and are just using tumblr as a way to find a support group n shit.

Rey has this stupid belief that you should cope the way other people cope, and if you don't you're "glamorizing it and influencing others", and it genuinely baffles me how completely ignorant they are surrounding both the topics of jirai kei and mental health as a whole.

since when has anyone in the jirai community ever encouraged anyone to self harm? The only self harm shit I've seen coming from the jirai community are literally people just talking about their own struggles with self harm.

Tbh, the only thing I don't like about my self harm is that whenever I relapse I have to hide it until it heals so that my family doesn't get pissy at me over it (especially my dad, cause he deadass once told me "self harm is stupid", and honestly, wtf), but that's just me. People got their own reasons why they romanticize their own self harm.

And I am putting the emphasis on the "their own" part, because this douchebag really missed that part and I don't think they'd bother to care anyways.

Also, "just get a diary" THIS IS MY DIARY, JACKWAD. My therapist knows that this blog exists, i literally showed it to her to look at. And I start intensive outpatient therapy next week, so idk what you're on about when you say I should "get help."

Speaking of "getting help", I do agree that if someone needs professional help, they should try to get it as soon as possible. Walk in crisis centers exist (at least in Colorado where I'm from)

But regardless of whatever it's for, when someone does get help, it doesn't mean that all of your problems will go away.

it means that you are learning the skills needed to cope with them so that you don't end up doing some genuinely harmful behaviors like drugs or risky sex.

Sometimes getting help means de-escalating from a crisis so that you don't try to kill yourself or others.

Or it could be to help manage some behavioral issues or trauma that you had to deal with.

People get this stupid misconception that the minute you go to the psych ward for a few days or start talking to a therapist, that all of a sudden you're gonna be this mentally stable and happy person who has no issues whatsoever. I've been dealing with the mental health industry for 5 years and yet I still haven't gotten better, if anything I feel fucking worse tbh.

And to add on to that, not everyone has that same kind of access to help. Sometimes parents don't believe their kids are struggling and refuse to get them help, sometimes financial barriers can make it difficult to afford it, lots of things.

Japan (the place where Jirai Kei originated) has a major issue when it comes down to the stigma surrounding mental health and mental illness, and getting help is completely discouraged there. That's where the Jirai Kei community comes in to help destigmatize mental health (while looking cute as shit).

but the part that's gotta piss me off the most regarding this situation is how rey is so upset that different ways to cope exist to the point they're literally reporting blogs and getting them t worded ALL BECUASE NOBODY AGREES WITH WHAT THEY GOTTA SAY.

Sheesh, and people tell ME I can't take criticism...

Anyway, just wanna say that if you see reyinblack anywhere, please report and block them. DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THEM.

Thank you.

[glassesfreekjr]

Can we analyse Tulin for a bit?

Apart from being the keet birb boy, perhaps what makes his character so enthralling is how it so brilliantly reflects and offers commentary on the influences that have shaped him.

Whether that be Revali, his father Teba, and ESPECIALLY Link. Hell, it's no wonder that Link & Tulin have garnered such a sibling dynamic. Tulin essentially IS Link, from a time before the burden of responsibility and pain caused Link to cave in on himself pre-Breath of the Wild.

Right down to the veteran warrior father figure (Link's father was captain of the guard) and their acceptance of a newfound legacy out of forthright integrity. Tulin, at this point in his life, has yet to give himself away until there's nothing of him left to give, and let's pray he never needs to.

But Tulin would do that in a heartbeat, if called upon. He is very much his father's son.

You can see it in how archtypical childish spunk is tempered, like steel, by Teba's down-to-earth bluntness and sheer work ethic.

(BTW I wonder if Link sees his own father in Teba? That'd check out.)

But what caught me most pleasantly off-guard is Tulin's skepticism, which has become one of his most compelling traits for me. It's not something you would expect.

He did not believe that the Stormwind Ark existed, and while ultimately proven wrong, it frankly wasn't an illogical assumption to make. Tulin clearly thought through that opinion. He'd also grown frustrated that the Rito placed their faith on a songbook miracle — a eucatastrophe, if you will — instead of something more concrete like personal skill or, say, Link's whole-ass existence.

The second Link arrived and offered his aid, Tulin accepted his help without hesitation. He turned his skepticism inward to reevaluate his own tenets. And it's as a duo that they brought about said eucatastrophe through no one's strength but their own. They are siblings, Your Honor. Aryll 2.0

(If Revali had been blessed with a support network saying "it's okay to accept help. no man is an island," doubtless he still would have perished in Vah Medoh. But there would be less of an ego to shatter. He would have faced death with less blind panic and more dignity. And most importantly, he'd have other people to bolster the wind beneath his wings during his short life. (At the very least, Revali would not have as big an ass not be as big an ass, just as Tulin would be a different person without his family.)

dammit quaquaval you have RUINED me

Also, one thing that everyone seems to miss is just how deceptively intelligent Tulin turns out to be. This kid fuckin' knows his stuff. His mastery of aerodynamics beyond the instinctual is almost on par with Revali at such a young age. And how many precision headshots has his avatar saved your ass with, don't lie.

He somehow managed to follow his father back through time. Tulin can see Koroks.

It's not the same kind of passion-fuelled intellect as, say, Zelda has. More of an unyeilding conviction to learn all he can and put it into practice. About as understated a quality as Yunobo's inexplicable business acumen and economic sense.

As his mother Saki put it, for Tulin to develop as an individual, he needs to experience more of reality and its hardships. Shooting bullseyes and improving one's flying prowess / wind magic can't contend with genuine combat. True to her word, Tulin had to experience mistakes firsthand, and critically examine his own naïve ways of thinking in order to take those necessary steps.

...

So then, uh, is it wrong for me to wish something horrible upon him, if only to witness the positive character growth that springs from it? Tulin isn't the sort who'll shatter under pressure, like Revali did at the end of his life, or like Link did under the weight of expectation. Buckle, yes — but not break. Tulin's steadfast conviction, inherited from his father and guided by the people he loves, would assuredly see him through.

In any event, his Hero's Journey isn't close to over. I'd be curious to see Tulin at its conclusion.

tl;dr I wanna Emesis Blue his bitch-ass, AITA?

[willowisapillow]

👑🍑 Why Peach Is One Of My Favorite Comfort Characters 🍑👑

It’s Princess Peach Month, babes, and as a fangirl, I’m obligated to make a post like this become a reality. Feels quite sinful that I wasn’t able to jack for the month last year (aside from reposting some cringy fanart), but this year I’ll try and bring my A game this year. Was also inspired to make this post after reading some articles that are in defense of characters that are in a similar vein to Peach, like Daphne Blake and the Disney Princesses (specifically the classic ones like Snow White, Cinderella and Aurora).

Last year, I made a post where I partially went in defense of the pink diplomat, but for this post, I’m gonna go in full defense of her, and also why she’s personally special to me.

Now, where do I even begin? Imo, Peach has been one of the most unnecessarily lambasted, maligned, overhated but also misunderstood characters in not just Super Mario, video games, but also fiction as a whole.

One of the most talked about criticisms I hear about her is, “ShE’s UsElEsS, aNd Is aLwAyS bEiNg KiDnApPeD LiKe EvErY dAy”. While it kinda has become somewhat of a running gag in the series, I am willing to admit that she’s not always able to defend herself. However, I’m still here to say that’s she’s far from useless or weak, girlie clearly can defend herself, like- are y’all really forgetting the many times where she can be strong like in SM3DW, Mario + Rabbids, SMB2, SMBW, SMRPG, and so many other titles? Hell, are we really forgetting about the movie that literally just came out a year ago where she’s being a strong, dutiful leader, AND the fact that she has two solo starring games where it was her turn to save the day all by herself? Let’s also not forget the Smash Bros. series where she’s one of the highest ranked characters in three of the entries. And also, it’s not, “every day”, some of y’all need to stop exaggerating that 💀

Even when in captivity, she still manages to help out Mario by sneaking 1-Ups like in Mario Galaxy. It irks me with how stuff like this is often ignored in order to pigeonhole her into the damsel role, when she is strong in her own right. She doesn’t always get captured, and more people could understand this if they stopped degrading her for Bowser and Daisy’s actions.

Speaking of Daisy, another criticism that I hear about her is, “ShE’s A bAd FrIeNd To DaIsY, aNd BeTrAyEd HeR fOr RoSaLiNa.” Jesus H. Christ, this one genuinely makes my blood boil. Daisy is another one of my favorite characters in the series that is special to me, and it makes me upset with how her and Peach’s friendship is often portrayed in the fandom. Like, show me proof. Show me factual evidence that Peach “betrayed” Daisy that isn’t from fanart, fanfiction, animations, or anything else fanmade. This is giving the same vibes as, “Mario is a bad/abusive brother to Luigi” rumor that MatPat popularized and I hate it sm. And while we’re at it, can we not throw Rosalina under the bus, she herself gets an unnecessary and unneeded amount of hate already :/

Peach and Daisy are canonically BFFLs, and I hate hate hate how they’re usually portrayed as enemies. I remember seeing so much fanart back in the day where Daisy is bullying, fighting, or being straight up toxic towards Peach. I do see Daisy playfully teasing Peach and being competitive, but being toxic? No, honey, no 😣

And now moving on to my next criticism which is, “ShE’s ToO sTuPiD aNd GiRlY”. Aah yes, the whole, “being hyper feminine/girly is bad” trope, oh how I have not missed you. First of all, Peach is not stupid. Naive? Yes. But she’s no dumb blonde, or airhead, or ditz, or bimbo, or whatever the hell type of pejorative, misogynistic, blonde stereotype-based word you wanna throw at her. She’s clever, and has been able to use her smarts to outwit her captors. And newsflash, there's absolutely nothing wrong with loving traditionally feminine things like baking cakes, or fashion, or liking the color pink. It kinda rubs me the wrong way with how people remove the feminine aspects about Peach and the other things that make her special in order to have her be taken seriously. They just end up making her a Daisy clone. You can be both girly and badass too, y’know!

And here’s my final criticism that I hear about her, “ShE’s A sPoIlEd, StUcK uP bRaT wHo DoEsN’t CaRe AbOuT mArIo”. Look, just because she’s filthy stinking rich, doesn’t mean she’s a spoiled brat. This is yet another thing I see her being portrayed in fanmade stuff; spoiled, bratty, entitled, and bitchy, and I’m just here like, “Did y’all mistake her for Wendy, or?”. Peach is one of the sweetest, empathetic, selfless, and most wholesome characters in the series, and would never act like that.

But nope, pink = girliness, and girliness = bad, so that means we gotta make her a complete Karen/s

I get alternative character interpretations exists, but I feel like people use that as an excuse to deliberately demonize and flanderize characters for the sake of it -_-

As for Mario, have you guys even played any of the games? She clearly does love and care about him and is grateful for what he’s done for her. She thanks him for helping her, giving him kisses, baking cakes for him, and inviting him to fun places. If she “didn’t care about him”, then she wouldn’t be doing all the above mentioned stuff for him. And something I also forgot to mention in my Y2K Peach post is how people assume she has Stockholm Syndrome- which she doesn’t. She clearly doesn’t like Bowser, wants nothing to do with him, and shows 0 romantic interest in him, so how could she have Stockholm Syndrome lmao

Phew, glad I got all of that off my chest. Stuff like this has been bugging me for so long, so I’m glad to finally let it all out. Now I’m gonna explain why I find Peach to be one of my favorite comfort characters.

Ever since I was a small tot, I’ve always admired Peach. She was pretty, pink, super girly and ruled a whole damn kingdom. While she isn’t always strong, there are still times where she’s able to put her foot down and stand up for her friends and herself. She puts her subjects' needs before her own needs, and is basically a gentle soul. She’s also a jack of all trades, she’s not just a baker, but also a golfer, tennis player, kart racer, equestrian, and so much more. She’s also able to be patient with others, and sees the good in even the wickedest of people.

I especially loved playing as her in the Smash Bros. games, I’ve been a Peach main ever since the Brawl days. Her inclusion in the series just shows me that, even if you love doing unapologetically feminine things like wearing dresses, painting your nails, shopping, or cooking, you still matter. You’re still capable and strong in your own way, and you can still save the day. Embrace who you are. To this day, I still find this to be an empowering message that not just young girls, but anyone can resonate with. This is why Peach has always been a special character to me <3

Apologies if I kinda went into, “I’m 14 and this is deep” territory, but that’s just what I truly feel about Peach. She’s no damsel in distress, or a pretty face, or a walking talking prize, she’s much much more than that. She’s one of the best characters, and deserves better not just in the games, but in the fandom as well.

I’m probably gonna get crucified and clowned on for this, but Idc, I spoke my truth 😤

Before I leave, if you still dislike Peach after reading this post, that’s perfectly fine, just make sure to keep the comments respectful and please don’t start any flame wars. Thank you 💕

Thank you all for reading my needlessly long and unhinged defense of one of my favorite Princess characters, and I hope you all have a good day or night, and make sure to stay safe out there ✌️

👑 🍑 👑

[im-ovulating]

Hello!! I'm fairly new to the twilight fandom and your blog is one of the bests i've ever seen so far! So, if you're comfortable/not buzy, could you please do the volturi kings (separated or poly, both are fine!!) reacting to the reader being a goth, i imagined since they're ancient beings, the goths that invaded the Roman Empire would be the first thing coming to mind lol

Once again, your blog is definitely a favorite now, so i might just give myself a name for future requests, i think 🦇 would be fine if no one's using it :)

Have a good morning, afternoon or/and evening!

-🦇

(A/n: Stawppppp you're makin me blushhh🙈 I definitely recommend @kiiwiigii (her kinktober is 🥵 and her fluff fics will literally rot your teeth) and (she doesn't write often, but she has an AMAZING NSFW mini series called Uses of a Secretarial Desk👀:) @alecvolturi)

(A/n: I went with headcanons. I hope that's okay with you!)

(A/n: Also- It's a bit difficult for me to write the kings since I personally don't vibe w/ em, so I hope you like it😭😅)

Word Count: -

Summary: Request above

Warnings: None

Age Rating: None

Volturi Kings x Gothic! GN! Reader

-----------------------

General:

Firstly, the Volturi are known art lovers so while the Visigoth sacking Rome might be what the word is acquitted to off the top of their heads, they would probably attune it moreso to the gothic art style of the mid 12th - 16th centuries

This being said, gothic makeup is VASTLY different from the painted arches and quatrelobes of the art period

You'll definitely have some explaining to do

You'll have to excuse them. They're not invested in human fads and expressionistic styles

Now on to the individual reactions/thoughts:

Aro:

He definitely finds your style interesting

Not in a judgmental aunt "interesting...😒" but an intrigued interest

He likes to watch you do your makeup, letting out the occasional amused "hm" when you do something unconventional with your look (grey contour, painting your neck black, extreme eyeliner, thin angled brows, etc.)

As for the music?

Doesn't really get it but at the same time does? Idk how to explain my thought process

He basically vibes with the lyrics and meaning but sometimes the instrumentals are hit or miss

He really enjoys the instrumentals that are more spooky/calm to the ones that go harder

Overall, if you're happy, who's he to say anything?

Caius:

Do you want fanon or accurate?😅

Fanon:

He might give you a strange look or cock an eyebrow when you go all out with your look but he silently appreciates how much effort it takes to perfect it

If he doesn't like the song playing, he'll either grab your phone and skip it or just leave the room

Canon:

This man is throwing shade left, right, and center lol

It /is/ all in good fun though

He's a bitch, you knew that from your first meeting

"Are you sure that's how you want to go out today?"

"Interesting attire, dear... *side eye*"

He doesnt hate it, don't get him wrong

He just finds it... odd

Out of all the kings, he's probably the most art geek of them all and is stuck on the name of your style

"Goth? That is not gothic, pet... *cue middle ages art speech*"

Openly criticizes the music

Either bans it from being played around him or loudly complains about it

Marcus:

Is the most vocal about your appearance

Constantly praising how you look that day

He got a second chance at his life partner. He's gonna be damned if he doesn't appreciate everything about you even down to the barely-different-who-is-he-kidding-they're-the-same-as-the-ones-you-already-own shoes that you just bought and are excited about

It's not even him lying either

He GENUINELY loves your look, simoyl for the fact that 1) he has seen you get ready... that takes skill and 2) you clearly enjoy the style and seeing you confident and secure in yourself is enough for him

He can take or leave the music, but he will keep that to himself until he dies (get it? Bc he's immortal?)

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

[yeta-drewit]

GUYS IM LITERALLY TWEAKING WHY DO PEOPLE NOT BELIEVE ENID IS INTENTIONALLY A QUEER ANALOGY?! MY GIRL WAS GOING TO BE SENT TO CONVERSION THERAPY THATS LIKE VERY MUCH ON THE NOSE. Like idk maybe I’m giving the show too much credit but I genuinely think it had to be on purpose, there is no way no one in the entire process of pre production went like “guys maybe we shouldn’t say that because it sounds like a gay allegory and that’s not what we are going for”.

Like I’m currently in a college English class and my teacher has me analyzing the smallest of shit so language is very important. I’m also a film major and I can tell you this type of things are not a quick process with small groups of people, this is a whole ass process. So excuse me when I don’t believe they didn’t notice what they were doing with Enid. I genuinely believe Enid IS a queer analogy and that it wasn’t just a coincidence. LANGUAGE IS IMPORTANT IN ANY MEDIA. And I feel is specially necessary in a show where characters are known for being unable to simply express what they mean, Wednesday is always saying shit between the lines. Like I feel like people forget that language and wording is not simple and meaningless, like guys the curtains being blue is meant to symbolize something. Everything within a show or a book is meticulously written to enhance a story and yeah maybe shitty media doesn’t do that but I have faith in the Wednesday show, SPECIALLY considering that cinematography wise the show is very good.

THIS WASN’T A SLIP UP THIS IS GENUINELY WHAT THE SHOW WANTED YOU TO THINK. They want you to understand Enid through the eyes of a queer analogy, you are meant to sympathize with this girl because she is going through the same misery as a lot of gay people. YOU ARE MEANT TO SEE HER STORY AND THINK OF QUEER PEOPLE.

Also the show in general has a lot of analogies and metaphors related to minorities, it wouldn’t be far fetched to think they also have queer analogies. Like for the universe sake guys we had Goody literally being an indigenous person during the genocide of colonialism. THERE WAS LITERALLY A RACIST PILGRIM. The whole outcast community in the show is meant to serve as an analogy for minorities. THE ADDAMS FAMILY ACROSS MEDIA HAS BEEN AN ANALOGY FOR BEING DIFFERENT IN A WHITE SUBURBAN CENTER SOCIETY. It’s not far fetched to think the queer community (A MINORITY) would also have some representation within the show.

Conclusion: Enid is very intentionally a queer analogy and I really hope the show would continue on this analogy even after she finally wolfs out (I’m a blood wolf believer, there is no way they won’t play around with the idea she literally transformed under a blood moon, cause if you pay attention there is no other werewolves in the scenes so they are either cheap or it was a curious detail that Enid is still not a “normal” wolf)

Okay side note after posting this I’ve realized that I’m missing one point and that is the fact the analogies aren’t good. I can admit the show Wednesday is not the best and quite frankly is far from it but I do believe it shouldn’t stop me from thinking of it more critically (or as critically as I can get). But I think my point still stands that it is a very obvious analogy and taking it as accidental is forgetting a part of Enids character.

Also yes I know Tim Burton is KNOWN for lacking diversity and he would likely not make a gay character but I feel people forget he is not the sole person in charge of this show, he can hate minorities all he wants but it takes only one person in that writing room to create the gaynesss that is Enid.

[my-halo-is-a-little-broken]

Now, let me preface this by saying I only really have FB to keep in touch with family and friends, so I try to cultivate it to have my interests on my feed, and Arcane is currently one popping up a lot.

And, uh, some people have "interesting" takes 😬 like, there can be valid criticisms of the show and how it handled some things, but these feel reach-y or even completely miss the point.

1. I don't think the show is trying to say "magic (power) makes disabled people evil." What I do think it is trying to say is that when you get a taste/knowledge of what life could be like when you're more able/powerful, it can be intoxicating and misleading. Viktor genuinely thought he was making things better, and he thought he saw how he could get there, so he took it, in an "ends justify the means way." He tried convincing Jayce to work with him. He didn't truly want to align with Ambessa until he felt he had no other choice. Other examples we see of power infecting people are littered throughout the show. Cait, Jayce, Ambessa, Mel, Silco, Singed, Heimer. Power infects and can twist people.

2. Yes, it did feel hollow at some points. But I don't feel they were saying what the person thinks they were saying. Jayce even essentially says that the Zaunites have no reason to trust them, and he basically begs them to work with Piltover because he knows the destruction that awaits them. It wasn't just "defending the oppressors way of life." A literal apocalypse could happen. It's defending everyone's way of life. As for the "Savage Brown Hoardes" bit, the only people of color we really see of the Noxians are Ambessa, Kino, and Mel, 2 of which prefer talking and seeing fighting as a last resort. Everyone else is (seemingly) white. Maddie is white, Rictus appears to be white, and what we see of the Noxian soldiers, they seem to be white. Even if we go farther and look at the Noxian champions in LoL, a good chunk of them seem to be white. As for the faceless communism metaphor, while I can see it, this was a legitimate threat to Piltover, Zaun, and the world as a whole. Communism is a boogie man in our world, yes, but it wouldn't lead to the *literal apocalypse*. That's more capitalisms' style. And there's plenty of distrust and anger between Pilties and Zaunites, even if we don't get to see as we would have liked. A good chunk of the Zaunites don't join the battle until late because they *don't trust the Pilties* but realize that this isn't going well and will end badly, so they decide to help. We see that Sevika, despite being on the council, doesn't trust the Pilties, and they also don't trust her! Coming together to save the world doesn't mean that all the issues are erased. It simply means they were put aside for the moment. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

3. Yeah, they fumbled on keeping up Zaun vs. Piltover, but the Medarda war didn't come out of nowhere. In the 1st season, we have Ambessa trying to encourage war. She's a WARLORD. War within her was coming, one way or another. Mel always stood in opposition to her, even if she loved her and tried to reason with her. Ambessa was always going to be one of the main antagonists and major plot points. Look at her song. If you want something outside of season 1 that points to that there was always going to be war. "No war, no peace 'til I lead them all". She does what she does for her family's gain, yes, but also for herself. She didn't show up to Piltover to visit Mel, ever, until word started to spread. It reflected badly on Piltover, on the council, on Mel, which in turn reflected badly on the Medarda name and *her*. "I can use who I want, and I taste what I please". Ambessa isn't above doing whatever she sees fit to get what she wants/feels is right. She will always try to get what she wants, and what she wanted was war with Zaun. War within Zaun weakens Piltover, which is already partially under a Medarda's control. We've seen that Ambessa takes over places and conquers them. It's never confirmed, but it's not a stretch to make an assumption here that she wanted to bring Piltover and Hextech under Noxus' (hers) control, and what better way to do that than weaken it's defenses and strength? She made Piltover "stronger" but only by putting herself in control of Cait, her puppet, who she, despite not being from Piltover, made Piltovers leader.

4. I don't think this was Jayce saying that Viktor needed to stay disabled. I myself am disabled, granted not like Viktor is, but I didn't feel this was Jayce saying that. To me, this was Jayce telling Viktor that it's *okay* to not be perfect. That it's okay to be disabled. Not that it's a good thing to be, but that it's not a horrifically bad thing either. Jayce *loves* Viktor (platonically or romantically, your choice, but they're soulmates no matter how you slice it). We see Viktor go from a mostly confident and sassy young man to a shell of himself who believes he's unworthy of standing next to Jayce even though they're partners. Viktor was never unworthy, no matter how his disease progressed, and that's what Jayce is trying to emphasize. Jayce is telling Viktor, "You are loved, I love you, and nothing will ever change that no matter what you think." It echos Jinx and Vi in a way. Jinx thinks she's unlovable, bad luck, but Vi doesn't. She'll never give up on trying to help and love her sister, and the same way Jayce will never give up trying to save and love his partner. Jayce isn't telling Viktor he should have stayed disabled. He's telling him that his disability doesn't make him less of a person and who he is, that perfection does nothing but hurt when it requires impossible standards.