#i feel like this should be obvious but some people seem to struggle with it

[realllism]

I feel like lately “don’t assume anyone’s sexuality” has turned into “assume everyone’s straight because you could out them otherwise” and that’s not progressive at all, “don’t assume anyone’s sexuality” is not saying you should speculate or you should ask them in an inappropriate setting or force them to out themselves, it literally means that you don’t necessarily know someone’s sexuality from just looking at or interacting with them

[ozymoron]

starting to think this website is bad for my mental health.....

[dollgxtz]

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

[prince-geo]

literally pleased with almost all of the new atla trailer except as per usual, Zuko's scar, idk why studios are so scared to commit to the intensity of the thing, its supposed to be shocking and obvious and textured and the first thing you see... that's the point, Zuko is supposed to struggle with feeling like it defines and brands him before finally coming to the point in his journey where he defines it.

Hollywood/big studios are known to hesitate or straight up avoid properly and honestly and unapologetically showing people with disfigurements/disabilities/facial differences etc. with the realism they deserve. Which is a shame in general for representation and humanization but ESPECIALLY in this case as its minimization actively harms it's narrative purpose as well

I promise making the scar more intense (shrivel up the ear a bit, make it intrude in his hairline, make his eye in a permanent squint due to nerve damage, for god sake REMOVE THE EYEBROW IT WAS BURNED OFF) will not make Zuko "ugly", (the actor is incapable of looking ugly and also the implication that scars make people too unappealing? yikes) but will actually do the character and his journey justice, not to mention really show Ozai's brutality, another essential narrative tool. Especially when he's bald like hello??? It should be even more stark and intense when he doesn't have hair to distract from it and cover his ear!!!

When transitioning from 2D to live action, of course some visuals are up for interpretation but that usually involved ADDING detail because the constraints of having to stay on modeling frame to frame is gone, not minimizing, removing or airbrushing. Doing Zuko's scar right to me is absolutely essential and I'm disappointed they seem just as as scared to go there as I thought they might. It doesn't have to be gory, if you've ever seen burn victims in real life or in pictures or even cosplayers/artists who are skilled in realistic burn makeup you'd know its possible to balance realism with humanity. It's possible especially with their resources to avoid the "scary Halloween makeup" route while not holding back on the brutality of the original injury.

Budget is definitely not an issue, or "scaring the kids" considering this remake is likely aiming to go a lil darker in tone than the cartoon (which was already super dark with its target audience of nickelodeon 7 year olds so no excuses) Audiences SHOULD be unsettled and upset when they see him but not because he's hard/disturbing to look at but because we are human and do not want to imagine someone doing that to a child.

It's a deliberate choice out of the all too common fear/hesitation to allow someone who is destined to eventually become a protagonist and is meant to be sympathized with to be "too ugly" while this hesitation is very rarely applied to straight up villains (again we come back to media's historic villainization of facial deformity). It's a trend that's always ticked me off in fanart too. The boy's face was melted, for gods sake. Zuko was always portrayed as an attractive boy in the cartoon (fire nation girls fawn over him) even with the intensity of his scar which is something I've always admired! People exist with scars similar to Zuko's in real life, and should not only be permitted to be represented as good guys and/or as attractive when their scars are toned down to be "palatable"

Like I said there's more that I loved than didn't love about the trailer, that can be a whole essay on it's own but I needed to get this very specific vent off my chest because it missed the mark so hard and stands out like a sore thumb in comparison to all the other visuals that hit the nail on the head to me

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

When you point out how neurodiversity affects whole areas of the brain, not just what we see as the presentation symptoms, it seems so obvious. I've known that many neurodivergent conditions have high rate of co-morbidities, but haven't thought about what that would mean. I really liked your explanation of what else dyslexia affects, it made me recategorise some of my sister's mom behaviours. I see time blindness, some executive dysfunction, organisation difficulties and go, yup, I've got that too, it's normal, and forget that most people don't struggle with that (I've suspected I have undiagnosed ADHD for years, but never got checked for it, since I suggested it my dad freaked out, insisting there was nothing wrong with me. I really should though)

May I ask how your synaesthesia manifests for you? I'm always curious about how neurodiversity manifests in people and how it affects them, because there are so many minor and major things not talked about. I apologise if that question makes you uncomfortable, you don't have yo answer it.

Anyway, thank you for your explanation! It made a lot of things click all at once for me.

If you want lots of examples of how my synaesthesia works, I have a tag you could trawl here. But, I have a few different types; the common numbers-have-colours one, but I also get textures and sensations and feelings, and about... literally everything. Numbers, words, people's voices, names, personalities, the plots of media, images, everything.

Soooo, yeah. Sensory overload is the big impact; trial and error over the years has shown me it's primarily auditory, so if I can wear earplugs I can cope for longer in 'busy' environments. The other thing is that it really does a number on my mathematical ability, though, because, I shit you not, the colours get in the way. When I was a small child I was shown that 3 + 5 = 8, and my brain went "Yes, orange + pink = brown, got it" and ever since then if I see a 3 and a 5 together in a sum it DOES NOT MATTER what the operator is, I immediately assume the answer is 8. 3 plus 5? 8. 3 minus 5? Also 8. 3 times 5? Buddy you'll never guess. But it's 8.

It takes conscious effort not to do this T_T

The other thing is that I really, REALLY suffer from this thing where someone goes "Hey, we should watch Program X" but the problem is, you see, the problem is, I cannot stand the sensation I get from the name Program X, and therefore I will not watch it out of disgust that is totally unrelated to the actual show. This applies to all media, places, human beings, etc. (It is obviously a thing I have to be careful of when it's human beings.)

I think everything else I have is ADHD-related though, so that's probably everything I can put down to the synaesthesia.

[lawofangie]

just assume

it seems like some of you don't understand how the law of assumption works, so let me be the one to make a few things clear. i apologize if these seems repetitive, there just truly isn't anything much to the law. i struggle to understand how much more explicitly the only rule has to be stated in order for you guys to grasp this.

first off, the law of assumption is about making assumptions. as in, you have to assume in order for the law of assumption to work for you. this should be an obvious one, but for some reason many of you don't understand this.

i blame it on all the misinformation and lack of critical thinking skills, because it is quite literally in the name. the law of assumption will not work if you are not assuming. a law about MAKING ASSUMPTIONS will not work if you are not MAKING ASSUMPTIONS.

what is an assumption? something you believe to be true without proof. so, you must believe you have your desires without proof in order to manifest.

asking me why you don't have your desires makes absolutely no sense if you understand this concept. there's no point. you're basically asking me why something you believed to be true is happening. the very obvious reason is that's just the way the law works.

the law of assumption is completely indifferent to whatever you want to manifest, your current circumstances, your feelings, etc. it is simply a law that states whatever you assume to be true will be true.

the law is completely neutral and indifferent, so is the world you're living in. absolutely nothing has any meaning or significance until you assign significance or meaning to it. if this was not the case, you would not be able to assume absolutely anything you want, and nobody would be able to come to their own conclusions, have different perspectives, and be different people.

you quite literally become who you are based off of your world views and upbringing. everyone is inherently shaped by their assumptions. everyone has been assuming for their entire lives. assuming is absolutely nothing new. you're just being shown that there is a different way to use your ability to assume.

this means that absolutely anything that happens is on you. the law has no bounds, no exceptions, no excuses, etc. again, it is simply a law that stating whatever you assume to be true will be true. you are the reason you don't have what you want yet, because you fail to follow one simple instruction: make an assumption.

instead of assuming, you approach manifestation with fickle beliefs and a need for validation. then you wonder why you don't have what you want.

you look around for and stressing over the appearance of something you're explicitly being told you have to assume is already there in order for it to materialize. you're failing to meet the singular requirement of the law: decide you have it already.

you can't not follow instructions and then wonder why something didn't work for you. in any context, that makes absolutely no sense. the answer is right in your fucking face, you did not assume. you spent your time waiting something to happen. don't you know what that implies? if you had your desire, why would you be waiting for something to show up? oh, right, because you don't have your desire. you decided it wasn't there, now you're waiting for something else to happen.

you're looking around expectantly for validation when you're literally being told that you have to be your own validation. you're being told that you are the only necessary validation, but you fail to accept that.

you guys seriously fail to understand that the law isn't about making things show up, even if that technically is the end goal. it's about assuming. your assumptions just also have the ability to change your life for the better, you're being shown how to utilize that ability.

you need to take the initiative and stop looking to your own reflection to show you something you aren't showing it. why would any mirror reflect something it isn't being shown?

you don't get what you want, you get what you assume you have. that's the whole point. you assume in your favor in order to have what you want.

you either have it or you don't. there is no in between. you either assume or don't, the law doesn't care. nobody cares. stay stuck and life will move on without you. nobody is coming to save you.

it's in your best interest to assume you have your desire, but nobody can force you to. this is something you have to grasp on your own and apply on your own. all we can do is help you achieve that.

you can continue to look outwards if believing in yourself and having some fucking confidence is too difficult for you, but you'll eventually realize (if you haven't already) that it's to no avail. it doesn't work.

you will never have what you want if you don't assume you already have it. the law of assumption will never work for you if you don't assume.

if you have an understanding of the law, please, do yourself a favor and learn to follow instructions. don't waste your time asking stupid questions.

[kivino]

BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

my masterlist

ao3 link to this fic

Word counter – ~1,8k

Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.

upd. link added for ao3 enjoyers!

It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.

“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.

Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.

Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.

It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.

You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.

It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.

Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.

That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.  

“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.

It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.

So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.

The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.

So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.

The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.

Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.

“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.

“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.

“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”

Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.

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[nhlclover]

𝐖𝐇𝐘 | 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

summary: you and will struggle with unspoken feelings for each other, navigating confusion, flirtation, and fear of ruining your friendship

warnings: somewhat based on 'why' by shawn mendes, uncommunicated feelings, angst a bit, takes place while will is still at bc, will & reader being dumb teens, happy ending!

word count: 2.28k

Friends milled around the living room, laughter filling the space, but Will's eyes constantly flickered toward you. You were curled up on the couch, your laughter echoing in the background as you laughed at something that Jacob said. The sight of you made his chest tighten like it always did.

Will leaned back against the wall, his fingers absentmindedly running through his hair as his gaze kept drifting back to you. It was like some invisible force always pulled his attention in your direction. The way your eyes lit up when you laughed, the subtle way you tilted your head when you listened intently, and that playful, teasing smile you wore so easily—it all hit him harder than he ever expected.

However, you made it so confusing for Will. Some days, you’d flirt with him relentlessly, drawing him in with sly comments and the way you’d casually touch his arm or laugh at his jokes. Other days, you acted completely indifferent, like he was just another guy in the room and saying ‘hi’ like you had just met him. It drove him crazy. He'd tried dating other girls, but none of them made his heart race like you did.

You weren’t like anyone he’d met before. There was an effortless ease about you, a confidence that threw him off-balance in the best way. You challenged him, made him laugh when he didn’t even realize he needed it, and lately, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance between you two.

Jacob said something else that made you throw your head back in laughter, and Will felt the familiar pang in his chest. This wasn’t just a surface-level attraction; it was deeper and more complicated than that. Whenever he was around you, the world felt a little lighter, like the weight he’d been carrying for months started to lift without him even noticing. His chest tightened again as he caught your eye across the room. For a split second, your gaze locked onto his, and the corners of your lips curved up in that teasing, knowing way you always had.

Will’s breath hitched. He knew that look. It was the same one that had his heart racing the first time you met, the same one that made him wonder if maybe—just maybe—there was something there. Something more than the easy friendship you shared. The air between you seemed heavy with unspoken possibilities, Will’s pulse quickening. But before he could even think about making a move, you turned away, continuing her conversation with Jacob like nothing had happened.

“You guys should just date already, y’know?” Gabe said, pulling Will’s attention back to the people around him that he had tuned out.

Will’s eyes flicked back and forth a couple times between Gabe and you, chuckling lightly. “Nah… I’m still not ready for anything serious.”

Will stiffened as his words came out, knowing it was a lie. He didn’t quite know why he couldn’t just admit that you’re all he wants.

“When do you think Will is gonna make a move on you?” Jacob said, catching you off guard.

You blinked at him, eyes flicking briefly to the blond who was talking to Gabe. “What are you talking about?”

“You guys flirt with each other like crazy and don’t think I haven’t noticed all the little looks you’ve been giving each other… it’s making me want to throw up.” Jacob said, sipping from his beer.

You chuckled, a little flustered by Jacob’s observation, but quickly masked it with a playful roll of your eyes. “We do not flirt that much. He’s just… Will.”

Jacob snorted a laugh, clearly unconvinced. “It’s obvious, you know? Everyone sees it. You two have this… thing. It's like you're both waiting for the other to make the first move."

You glanced over at Will again, the way he was laughing at something Gabe said, how his hand dragged through his hair like he always did when he was nervous. A familiar warmth spread through your chest, the same one that made you second-guess your every interaction with him. Sure, there was chemistry—undeniable, sometimes electric—but you’d kept it at arm’s length.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said in a low voice, trying to shrug it off, but Jacob wasn’t having it.

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Oh, come on. You’re not fooling anyone. Look at the way you’re staring at him right now.”

You once again pulled your eyes off Will, laughing it off, but in reality, your heart was racing. Although you didn’t want to admit it, what Jacob was saying was true. Will had gotten under your skin in a way no one else had. The two of you had always had this unspoken connection, this easy banter that somehow made everything feel lighter, yet you’d never crossed that line. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was fear, or maybe you were waiting for him to make the first move, unsure of how deep his feelings really ran.

“Okay, fine,” you finally sighed, unable to completely deny it anymore. “But… I don’t even know if he’s serious. One minute, he’s all charming and sweet, and the next, he acts like we’re just buddies. He’s so confusing.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Maybe you’re the one confusing him. You flirt, then pull away. That’s gotta mess with his head.”

You blinked, suddenly realizing that maybe Jacob was right. It wasn’t just Will being inconsistent—it was you too. Every time things started to feel real, you’d instinctively pull back, unsure if you were ready to risk turning your friendship into something more. The thought of losing him if things went wrong scared you more than you liked to admit.

Across the room, Will was watching you again. His smile had faded slightly as if sensing the shift in your mood, and for a moment, his gaze softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. There was something there. You could feel it.

“Alright,” Jacob said, standing up with a stretch. “I’m just saying, you both clearly like each other. Someone’s gotta make a move sooner or later, or you’re gonna drive each other crazy.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jacob was already moving on, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You glanced at Will once more, and this time, he didn’t look away. His eyes lingered on yours, searching, questioning.

Your breath hitched, heart racing as you felt the weight of Will’s gaze on you. It was like the air in the room had suddenly thickened, making it harder to breathe. The conversation and laughter around you started to blur, becoming nothing more than background noise. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to dismiss the rising warmth creeping up your neck and the way your stomach fluttered every time Will glanced your way.

It was all too much—the teasing from Jacob, the weight of Will’s unspoken feelings, your own confusion and hesitation. The walls seemed to close in as you tried to push it all down, but it wasn’t working. You needed air.

You stood up, slipping quietly through the crowd, making your way to the front porch. The cool evening air hit your skin, offering a slight relief from the heat building inside you. You sat down on the steps, closing your eyes as you tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling within you.

What am I doing? you thought, your chest tightening as you replayed the moments with Will in your head. Jacob’s words echoed in your mind — We both clearly like each other. Someone’s gotta make a move sooner or later.

But it wasn’t that simple. Every time you got close to Will, it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something you weren’t sure you were ready for. You were terrified of the possibility that once you crossed that line, there would be no going back. What if things didn’t work out? What if you lost him, not just as a friend but as someone who had become such an important part of your life?

You took a shaky breath, rubbing your arms as the cool breeze swept across the porch. Maybe Jacob’s right, you thought, your mind racing. Maybe I’m the one messing things up. Maybe I’m the one who’s been too scared to take that step.

The door creaked open, interrupting your train of spiralling thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder to see who’d followed you out, spotting Will shutting the door behind him. Of course, it was Will.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, gentle, as if he could sense the turmoil inside you.

Will had watched you suddenly get up and walk out after talking to Jacob, a rush of worry running through him. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Will moved down to the steps, sitting beside you, your shoulders brushing as he sat. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you cursed yourself for how easily he affected you.

“I saw you slip out,” he continued, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You seemed a little… overwhelmed.”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I just needed some air. It was getting a little… crowded in there.”

Will chuckled softly, but there was an underlying tension in his voice. “Yeah, I get that.” Will nodded.

He leaned back, looking up at the night sky that was speckled with bright stars. For a moment, the only sound was the faint laughter and chatter from inside, mingling with the rustle of the breeze through the trees. You both sat in that silence, but it was different from before—thicker, heavier with all the things you weren’t saying.

Normally, you’d have no problem with finding something to talk to Will about. But now, the pair of you sat in awkward silence, unsure of how to speak to each other now with realized feelings.

Will turned his head to look at you, his gaze softer now, searching. “What’s going on, really?” he asked, his voice quieter this time. “It feels like… I don’t know. Like something’s been off with us recently. And I don’t know about you, but it’s been driving me insane.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and you turned to look at him, your heart pounding. Will was still staring at the sky, his jaw clenched, as if he was trying to find the right words.

“I’ve been trying to figure this out for a while now,” he admitted, his voice a little rough. “And I keep thinking… what if this is all just in my head? What if I’m reading things wrong? Because one minute, you’re flirting with me like crazy, and the next, you’re pulling away. And I don’t know what to think anymore.”

His words hit you hard, cutting through the confusion and defenses you’d built up. You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry as you realized that he was just as uncertain as you were.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to confuse you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Will finally turned to face you, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Handle what?”

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. But you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “How I feel about you.”

His eyes widened slightly, and for a second, you thought you’d said too much. Then, Will sat up, his posture straightening and brows furrowing.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be honest. “I… I like you, Will. I have for a while now. But I didn’t know what to do about it because I was scared. Scared of what happens if we try and it doesn’t work out. What if we ruin everything? I like having you in my life y’know?”

Will couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out and taking your hand in his. The simple gesture sent warmth flooding through you, and for the first time in a long time, the uncertainty started to fade. “I like having you in my life too.”

You glanced down at his fingers that began to gently trace your knuckles. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you felt yourself relaxing.

“I feel the same way,” he continued. “I’ve liked you for so long, but I didn’t know if you were serious, or if it was all just… a game.”

You shook your head, your voice firm this time. “It’s not a game. I didn’t mean to mess with your head, Will. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with my own feelings.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t want to be just your friend. I want more.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his words sinking in. And in that moment, all the fear, the confusion, the hesitation melted away. “I want more too.”

Will’s hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin before he leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips meet yours, soft and tentative at first, then more sure, more certain. All the tension, the frustration, the confusion melts away in that moment. When you pull back, breathless, you look into his eyes, seeing the same mixture of relief and affection reflected back at you.

“Guess we’re done pretending,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Will grins, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Yeah. No more games.”

[goddessofvalyria]

ALIVE | Martin (In the modern world) x fem!oc

As I saw Ewan Mitchell in the music video for Fontaines DC - In The Modern World, I obviously know that music video made us Tumblr girls write sooooooo much and I'm here for that.

English is not my first language, be kind and enjoy it <3

READ HERE THE SECOND PART OF THE ONE-SHOT "DEATH"

Summary: Cassandra and Martin are both devastated, how can they no longer feel the pain? Getting lost in each other.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, She/Her pronouns, the fem!oc is named Cassandra with long wavy dark black hair and blue-purple eyes, masturbation (f receiving), SMUT, sex, drug use, violence, blood, murder, death, sadness.

This is my Masterlist

Words: 3184

Cassandra shivered as she stepped out into the cold night, her breath forming misty clouds in the air. The winter chill was relentless, but she barely noticed it. Her black fur coat provided some warmth, but it couldn't reach the cold that had settled deep within her. Her long, wavy black hair fluttered in the biting wind, framing her face, where her once-vibrant blue-violet eyes now appeared hollow and distant.

She walked quickly, her knee-high leather boots crunching against the thin layer of snow that covered the sidewalk. The streets were empty, silent except for the occasional hum of a distant car. She checked her phone, glancing at the last message she'd received. It was from someone she barely knew, a boy who was a drug dealer who had agreed to meet her tonight. He was a friend of a friend, someone who could get her what she needed.

When she reached the parking lot, it was nearly deserted, save for a single car parked under the dim light of a flickering streetlamp. Cassandra paused for a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation, but she quickly pushed it aside. She didn't have the luxury of second thoughts tonight.

Martin sat in his car, nervously tapping the steering wheel as he waited. He didn't know who he was meeting, just that it was a girl in need, willing to pay well. But when he saw her approaching, he felt his heart skip a beat. It was Cassandra, the girl he had admired from afar and had a crush on during their school days. Back then, she was everything he wasn't—beautiful, popular, and effortlessly smart. He had been just another face in the crowd, unnoticed by someone like her.

Cassandra opened the car door and slipped inside, her movements mechanical, as if she was on autopilot. She didn't look at him, her focus entirely on the transaction.

"Do you have it?" she asked, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Martin hesitated, the recognition hitting him hard. She didn't seem to realize who he was, but how could she? The boy she once knew was long gone, just as the girl she once was seemed to have disappeared.

"Cassandra?" he said softly, searching her face for any sign of the person he remembered. Her eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment, she seemed to wake up from whatever trance she was in. 

"Martin?" she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I didn’t know… Look, I just need the stuff, okay? I want to forget for a while."

He handed her the small bag of drugs, his hand trembling slightly. "What happened to you?" he asked, unable to keep the question inside.

"You were… everything."

He loved her in silence. He loved her for many years but he was the metalhead boy of the school.

Her gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "What happened to me? Life happened, Martin. People change. Now, just let me be. I just want to forget and don't asking fucking questions."

Martin swallowed hard, struggling with the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He couldn't be rude to her. He knew he should just give her the drug, but seeing the girl who once shone with popularity and light, reduced like that, with obvious dark circles under her eyes, shaking hands and a spent cigarette between her fingers broke his heart. She had always been so beautiful, so… unique in his eyes and even if she had never deigned to look at him, he had always loved her in silence and from afar.

"Come with me" he said, the words spilling out before he could think them through. "We can talk… if you want, if you need."

She looked at him, her expression unreadable, but after a long moment, she nodded. She didn't know why she agreed, perhaps it was the familiarity of his face or the desperation in his voice, but she stayed in the car and then followed him back to his small, modest house.

Inside, the dim light cast shadows across the room, amplifying the feeling of isolation. Cassandra sat on the edge of his bed, removing her fur coat and laying it beside her. The room was dark, quiet, almost stifling, as Martin stepped out to get her some water.

When he returned, he stopped in his tracks. In the soft glow of the bedside lamp, he noticed the bruises on her arms, the way she winced as she adjusted her position on the bed. The sight hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt a wave of anger and sadness wash over him. She was wearing a short black dress with thin straps and torn tights. How could she not feel cold? It was clear that something was wrong with her.

Cassandra caught him staring at her and tried to cover her bruises with her hands, trying to hide the evidence of her pain. But it was too late. The tears she'd been holding back began to fall, silent and steady, as she wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together.

"I don’t know how I got here" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don’t know who I am anymore."

Martin sat beside her, unsure of what to say or do. He had never imagined seeing her like this, so broken and lost. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. All he could do was be there, offering what little comfort he could.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pill. "Here" he said, his voice gentle. "It might help… take the edge off."

Cassandra looked at the pill in his hand, then at him. "You don't have to pay for these" he said lowly. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she took it, placing it on her tongue and swallowing it down without a word. She lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if searching for answers that would never come.

Martin lay beside her, the two of them silent, lost in their own thoughts. The darkness in the room seemed to mirror the darkness within them, a shared pain that neither of them knew how to escape. And so they lay there, side by side, two lost souls in the night, hoping for some kind of relief, however fleeting it might be.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. "Someone who tells me he loves me"

Cassandra drifted into a restless sleep, the pill he had given her slowly taking effect, Martin's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.

"I know you have something for me, a friend of a friend tell me that you can help me. - Joe."

It was a message from Joe—Cassandra's boyfriend. He wanted to meet, to buy drugs. Martin stared at the message, his mind racing. This was the man who had done that to her, the one who had destroyed the girl he had once admired. He knew him, in high school Joe had beaten him up numerous times in the school bathrooms.

Without a second thought, Martin replied, agreeing to meet. He gently covered Cassandra with a blanket, his heart aching as he watched her sleep. Then, with a grim resolve, he slipped out of the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

The night was even colder now, but Martin barely felt it. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what he was about to do. He drove to the meeting spot, a desolate area on the outskirts of town, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Joe was already there, leaning against his car, looking as smug and careless as ever. Martin's stomach churned with disgust as he approached and Joe sat in the passenger’s side. Joe didn't even bother to greet him, just held out a hand, waiting for the drugs. Martin handed them over without a word, his mind already calculating his next move.

"Did you have only this? Fuck, now I have to hear my girlfriend's scream when she yells at me" he said with grief in his voice. "She is still your girlfriend" Martin replied. "We are together, yeah, but she only likes to be fucked like a whore she is and then... sometimes,... you know, she is mad as hell and she screams at me that for my fault her life became a fucking nightmare."

Joe wasn't a smart guy, he talked nonsense as he popped the pills. "Sometimes I hurt her, but it's just to let her know I love her. Only when she threatens to leave me and report me to the police, you know Cassandra is fucking bitch."

Martin looked at him as he felt the anger rising. How could he let him go free after those words? Cassandra would come back to him and he would hurt her. Now she was sleeping at his place, but after that? After taking more pills she would go back to her boyfriend.

As Joe turned to walk back to his car, Martin's vision went red. He moved before he could think, grabbing the seat belt from his car and looping it around Joe's neck in one swift motion. Joe struggled, his hands clawing at the belt, but Martin was stronger, driven by a rage he had never felt before.

"You are beating her, right bastard?"

The two of them wrestled, Joe managing to land a few blows, but Aemond didn't feel the pain. His face was smeared with blood, but he didn't care. All he could think about was Cassandra, about the life she could have had, about the life she still could have if this monster were gone. With a final, desperate twist, Martin tightened the belt, and Joe's struggles ceased.

He killed him for her.

Panting, Martin let the body slump to the ground, his chest heaving. He looked down at Joe's lifeless form, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him. It was done. He had done what he had to do.

The night was still dark when Martin disposed of the body, leaving no trace of what had happened. His face and clothes were stained with blood, but he didn't care.

He drove back to his apartment, the adrenaline slowly fading, replaced by a numbness that left him feeling empty.

By the time he returned, dawn was just beginning to break, casting a pale light through the windows. Martin quietly entered his room, closing the door behind him. Cassandra was awake, sitting in the center of the bed, her eyes fixed on the wall. She had noticed his records, her fingers tracing the edges of one of them absently.

When she turned to look at him, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of his face, still smeared with blood. "Martin…" she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of concern and confusion. "I still feel the pain.... I...fuck, I still feel the deep darkness in me"

"You have blood all over your face, what happened to you?" she looked at him, God, her eyes were so beautiful. Long black eyelashes, black eyeliner, they were breathtaking.

Martin walked over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I did what I had to do," he said, his voice steady.

For a moment, Cassandra just stared at him, her mind processing his words. Then, without warning, she got up and moved toward him, her eyes locked on his. Her hands gently cradling his face, feeling the still fresh blood on his skin.

"Thank you" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Thank you."

Martin was about to respond when she leaned in, her lips crashing against his in a fierce, desperate kiss. The intensity of it took him by surprise, but he quickly responded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. "You're safe now" it was a kiss filled with all the emotions they had both been holding back—fear, anger, relief, and something more, something they had both been denying for too long.

Cassandra pushed him back onto the bed, her hands frantically tugging at his clothes, as if trying to erase everything that had happened, everything that had hurt her, with this one act. Martin didn't resist; he wanted this as much as she did, maybe even more. The world outside, the blood on his face, everything else faded away as they gave in to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface.

Their movements were frantic, desperate, as if they were both trying to cling to something real, something pure in the midst of all the chaos. The bed creaked beneath them as they had sex.

“I need something strong” she whispered. “I need to know that I’m alive”

They leaned closer and their eyes met in another kiss. Their lips touched softly, as if they were trying to convey everything they couldn’t express in words. “I need something stronger than drugs” she murmured against his lips. Martin kissed her again, this time rougher, harder. Everything finally made sense. “I want you” Martin whispered. “I’ve always wanted you, even when you didn’t even look at me, I was there, silent among the outcasts and I watched you shine. But your darkness doesn’t scare me, share it with me.”

She leaned down to kiss his neck with languid, wet, provocative kisses and he grabbed her by the thighs, moving his hands up under her robe. "Cass" Martin groaned, looking up and meeting her eyes. He moved his hands to her dress, pulling it off her head. Cassandra began by removing his shirt, his hands tore off her tights and then moved to the elastic of her thong, hooking it around his fingers. "You are beautiful" he whispered as she raised her hips allowing him to remove her panties. Her long hair fell in front of her and she, who was not wearing a bra, destabilized him. He moved closer and slowly kissed her nipples, making her moan.

Cassandra moved her hands down to the elastic of his boxers, pulling them off along with his pants. In that moment she just wanted to forget all the pain she had felt, she wanted to let it all out, light a fire inside him.

"Make me forget" she murmured. "Make me forget" she was begging him. The girl leaned forward to kiss him, he made her lie down against the pillows of the bed and slowly got on top of her, covering her with his body. Cassandra caressed his back with her hands, making him shiver when her nails caressed his skin. "For me you exist, for me you have always existed" he whispered taking her face in his hands, he caressed her soft lips.

"You are so beautiful fuck, you are so… so… I… I have always seen you, I have always wanted you." he was desperate for her.

"You won't feel any more pain, you won't feel anything, I'll make you feel alive" he whispered, pushing himself inside her: God, she was so hot, wet, tight. He held her close, she moaned, inhaling his scent, she kissed his face still stained with blood. "I don't feel anything" Cassandra whispered. "I only feel you." she arched her back.

They moved together, faster, harder, until everything else faded away and there was nothing left but the unstoppable need to be closer, to feel more. "Tell me I'm yours" she whispered, holding him as if he could abandon her. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine" he whispered, kissing her, pushing between her hot, wet thighs.

Cassandra, his Cassandra was lost in the most dissolute pleasure. He continued to fuck her until he felt her tremble, a sign that he was about to come.

"You are mine, you are mine, you are mine" he repeated feeling his cock buried deep inside her. "You are mine, always remember that, you are mine" "I am yours" she whispered scratching his back, Martin shivered. He gave her a stronger thrust, looked into her blue-violet eyes, she pressed herself against him and came with a loud moan.

Martin followed shortly after her, came out of her body and fell on top of her taking her in his arms and giving her a kiss on her swollen and shiny lips.

"I feel alive, I feel alive…" she whispered holding him in her arms.

Cassandra's eyes locked onto Martin's, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper reflected in her gaze. Slowly, she leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. Her lips met his with an intensity that took him by surprise, and he responded, pulling her closer, as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate. She tasted the metallic tang of blood on his lips, and instead of pulling away, she leaned in further, her tongue gently tracing the cut. She sucked softly, tasting the blood, her actions filled with a strange blend of tenderness and need.

Martin groaned, the pain of his wounded lips mingling with the pleasure of her touch. She didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, as if in that moment, she was trying to absorb all of his pain, to take it into herself.

Their kiss was fierce, raw, and full of unspoken emotions—pain, longing, and a desire for connection that neither had known they needed so badly. The world around them faded away, leaving only the heat between them, the taste of blood and passion mingling as they lost themselves in each other.

“We should stop” Martin whispered. “No” Cassandra replied. “No one has ever killed for me.” She kissed him again and again, clearly aroused by the sight of him covered in blood. “You have me now” she whispered, grabbing his shirt and rolling onto the bed, him on top of her.

She was a fucking freak.

And he matched her perfectly. 

The morning light slowly filling the room, casting long shadows on the walls.

When it was over, they lay tangled together in the sheets, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat. Martin held Cassandra close, his heart still racing from everything that had happened that night. She rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his skin, as if trying to memorize every inch of him.

They didn't speak; there was nothing left to say. In that moment, they both understood each other perfectly. The world outside might still be cruel and unforgiving, but for now, they had found something that could make it all bearable.

And as the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the window, Martin closed his eyes, holding Cassandra close. 

"Come away with me and sal 

i promise you’ll be in it 

i don’t feel bad 

i feel alive in the city 

you despise 

wait for the day, when you come riding on by 

seems so hard just to be 

if it matters 

you complete me, yeah 

in the modern world"

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 3

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Standing up on the podium, not being able to do anything as you watched Oscar run off was torture. You had to stay there while your national anthem played that should have been amazing considering it was you, Lewis and Lando all up there together.

And of course, there were no breaks for you afterwards. Everyone wanted you, from SkySports, to F1, to Netflix. Everyone was throwing questions at you and asking how different your achievements feel now knowing that your the first woman to have completed many of them.

You were fine answering them, because like they said. All of your previous achievements were now bigger than they were as Ghost. People could tell that you weren't fully with them, you were a little spacey and sometimes struggled with hearing and answering the questions.

Most of them put it down to the post race fuzz of the win and revealing who you were, but upon getting to the Sky Sports Team who consisted of Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg, Natalie Pinkham and Danica Patrick questions turned sour.

"So Y/N aside from racing we caught light of Oscar Piastri's quick depart after the reveal, any insight on this?" Danica asks, making you look down.

"I don't think these questions are necessary" Jenson says just as the Red Bull PR manager was about to ask for racing related questions only.

"Yes please stick to racing questions only" the Red Bull PR backs up, nodding before taking a step back. You look back up, straight to Nico who had a soft look on his face.

"I'm just interested, you raced for Alpine last year when he was a reserve driver... for Alpine and you've been promoted to Red Bull this year while Piastri's made the move to Mclaren. Can't help but wonder if its underlying sexism that's made him this mad, you all cant deny he was blunt and rude in his interview with us earlier" Danica pushes and you head snaps up. You feel a hand on your shoulder as if to stop you from what your about to say but you go ahead anyway.

"I've hurt a dear friend. So how dare you stand there and try to victimize me, when he is the one that I've hurt. He knew me as Ghost's assistant and media manager... we were close and I've not been truthful to him for obvious reasons. So don't stand there and try to make him out to be a misogynistic twat when he isn't. I don't know what you experienced in NASCAR Danica but in F1 all I've experienced today is love and support. Just because your sport sucks doesn't mean mine does" you snap, and recoil shocked that you'd just said all of that. She looks at you also in shock, Jenson and Nico were trying to stop their laughter.

"Well, some strong opinions there from Y/N Y/L/N" Jenson says as he watches you turn away and walk off. You were done with interviews for the day. You just wanted to find Oscar and talk to him now.

"Lando! Lando" you shout as you see the curly haired boy ahead of you walking into the Mclaren motorhome.

"Hey, Y/N or should i say Ghost" he smiles before pulling you into a hug.

"I was not expecting that bombshell today, and I will admit I'm sorry for assuming you were some ugly guy... your very obviously not" he laughs.

"Where's Oscar" you ask, you didn't want to seem rude but of course he was your priority right now.

"Y/N, I don't think its a good idea to see him right now. I think maybe just wait for him to come to you. He's upset and" he starts but you look him dead in the eye.

"He upset me too, he just ran off... at my first race win" you say as selfish as it was... but he also ruined that experience for you.

"I know, but you did like lie to him for just under 2 years" Lando says softly not wanting to rattle your already unstable cage of self hatred.

"And what was i supposed to do Lando, tell him a secret that Red Bull had me sign an NDA over and break my contract and risk loosing my seat?" you ask, hoping he would start to understand.

"Look Y/N you really should go..." Lando pushes looking around the area you were currently in. He put a hand on your lower back as to guide you back out, but you planted yourself still.

"No, I'm not leaving till i talk to him" you grunt.

"Y/N I'm telling you this as your friend and your co-worker. You need to go" he says, you'd actually never seen his eyes this serious before and it had your head cocking to the side in confusion.

As your about to ask him why the hell he's being so twitchy, two people stumble out of the next room a little disheveled and both laughing. You eyes lock on them.

"O-Oscar?" you ask in shock, the girl looks up at him confused and his face turns red but also a sour expression comes onto his face.

Before any of them can say anything your turning away from them, everything feels slow motion, all the voices around you blur and your heartbeat comes erratic.

You couldn't understand why it hurt so much, the thought of him not even for a moment being happy for you up on a podium that he come here to be with some other girl ... or was it because in the time you'd spent with him you'd fallen for the racer.

You round the corner, stumbling behind the Mclaren motorhome so that you could just breath. You crouch down, your head leaning back against the side.

"Fucks sake" you say to yourself, once you'd calmed yourself from the initial shock you fully sat down on the metal edging outside the Mclaren motorhome.

"Y/N?" you hear a voice ask, your head peaks up and you spot Alex and Logan.

"Oh, hey guys. Great Race today!" you smile.

"Why are you just sat outside the Mclaren motorhome?" Logan asks raising an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, erm no reason. I just got lost on my way back to Red Bull" you smile standing up and walking to the long strip and turning left.

"Your still clearly lost, Red Bull's that way" Alex says pointing to the right hand side, that you weren't facing.

"Right, yeah i knew that" you smile, turning round and scuttering off the other way.

To say that the UK was the start of something spectacular was an understatement. You didn't go out and celebrate that night, you stayed in with your family.

The next race was Hungary where you proceeded to take the win away from Max in the last 3 laps, being on the fresher tires. They asked you to let Max take the win but you begged for them to let you fight it out. You shared the podium with Max and Lando, in Spa you came second, sharing the podium with Max and Charles and in The Netherlands you came 4th.

Throughout all of this Oscar hadn't reached out to you. You'd kept in contact with Lando, asking how he was and what had been going on. However Monza changed things.

An article came out about an interview Oscar had done about you and how you hadn't spoken to him since. He hadn't spoken very nicely about you when all you'd done was stick up for him. You guys got into a massive argument outside the garages that of course people caught on camera.

You had a really bad qualifying, the car just didn't have pace and your mind wasn't in the right place. So you were starting P14 on the grid, after a cry to Christian that you were so overwhelmed and him assuring you that it was today that really mattered.

You had turned off everything when you got in the car on the Sunday. No thoughts in your head just the racing. On the start you managed to get yourself to P12 overtaking Liam and Nico right of the bat.

"Excellent start Y/N lets keep pushing"

Martin Bundle - I have to say that Y/N is incredible with these races where she starts down in the back of the grid, and she gets those amazing starts where she slips in the middle of the two drivers ahead and is able to confidently get herself up too places

"Okay, and Alonso are ahead, you have DRS" your engineer tells you, and you are able to overtake Yuki who doesn't go as aggressively into the chicane as you do. You have a little spin but recover enough to pull up aside Alonso on the straight, going for the overtake.

"Amazing Y/N, that's P10 right now. Keep pushing"

Eventually you were left fighting Carlos, Max clipped a tire and was now down in 4th fighting with Charles.

"Y/N this has been a fantastic race, from P14 up to P2, Carlos is 1.8 second ahead. Lets get him and bring home a double podium. Max is fighting for P3 right now. 5 laps to go" he advises.

"Tell him to speed up, I'll give him DRS we can overtake Sainz together so its a 1.2" you advise looking seeing the Ferrari behind you. You slow down on the hairpin, breaking early, which Charles didn't expect where he was concentrating on defending from Max. You speed up, watching as he spins out a little leaving room for Max on the inside.

"Okay, Sainz has sped up there's now a 2.6 second gap"

"Copy that" you say, Max was using your slip stream, but didn't go for the overtake, you easily defended from Charles together while gaining on the other Ferrari.

"Okay last two laps, Sainz, 0.3 second gap"

"Yeah i can fucking tell I'm riding his rear end" you say, the minute you get onto the straight you and Max both go either side of Sainz, sandwiching him in as your about to go into turn 11. He breaks early falling back leaving you to take the optimal racing line and get ahead of Max.

"Is Max fighting this last lap?" you ask.

"He's been told is free to fight. Mode push and bring us another win" your race engineer advises, you breeze through the final lap, it was a close call but you came first.

"Y/N Y/L/N winner of the 2023 Italian Grand Prix" your race engineer says a big grin coming onto your face as you flip up the visor holding your fist up as you see all the Red Bull crew cheering for you on the fencing.

"Where did Oscar place?" you ask, you hadnt thought about him up until now. Even as you passed the orange 81 car, it was just another car then.

"Not a good race for Piastri, P12 behind Lawson"

"Okay. Thank you for the great drive today. Thank you Christian" you say before preparing yourself for the podium.

Would Oscar be there?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[vanderdyks]

I geniunely cannot stand when allistics try to say Resident Alien is actually making fun of autistic people because they believe Harry is too childish now because I JUST-

In the beginning, Harry tried SO MUCH HARDER to fit in with the humans around him. He mimicked their speech patterns, consistently observed them, emersed himself in their activities so they wouldn't suspect he was different.

The Harry now? He doesn't care. He's loud in places he should be quiet. He talks how he wants. He laughs FREELY. He's learned large crowds of people? Not for him. He doesn't like being touched by strangers.

He's just Harry. Himself. Because he can be. Because he's realized even if some of the people of Patience find him strange, it doesn't matter. They'll never guess he's from outer space.

Have you noticed that every other alien we have seen is not like Harry? Not the greys, or the half human hybrids, not even Heather. When Heather is around humans who know she is an alien, we get to see the difference, but when she isn't? She fits in so well with any other neurotypical human.

Not Harry though. So yes, he is autistic because I said he is. Because I am autistic. And if you're allistic, you don't get to tell autistic people they shouldn't headcanon Harry as autistic (even though it is very obvious they're purposefully playing him as neurodivergent now.)

When you take an autistically coded character that a lot of autistic individuals relate to, and try to argue the character is actually a "child" and being "infantalised," you're actually being ableist.

You're saying that the traits we have resonated with are childish... Harry seems like he's "regressed" because instead of trying to adapt and pretend to be human, he is becoming something else entirely. Not human, but not fully alien either.

The body of doctor Harry Vanderspeigle was once just a disguise. Now it IS Harry's. It's his body, his own skin. And he's gotten comfortable in it and you know this because you deliberately witness times where he might be holding his hands like he would his claws (primarily when he's sleeping.) His brain doesn't realize he's not in his normal form, because in many ways, this is his new normal form.

He has emotions. He cares. He's in completely new territory and finding himself. And in doing so, that carefully crafted human mask? It's fallen a bit.

So that thing you label as "regression" is a thing I label as progress. He's learning still. Let him learn. Let him be. And give it time. And I hope to GOD Harry never becomes fully human to the point we can't recognize him. I hope he never loses his unique inflictions, or his love for pizza and pie. I hope he continues to love the quiet. I hope he ALWAYS laughs obnoxiously. I hope he always runs like he doesn't know what to do with his limbs. I hope you always see his emotions throughout his body because they simply cannot be contained. I hope he continues to jump when excited or pace when he's angry. I hope he stays obsessed with Law & Order forever.

Because if you take all that away, you're taking away the bits that make him Harry. You want a carbon copy human. I want the autistic alien struggling to understand human nature.

That being said, of course you can express your opinion him. And it can be discussed because everyone is going to have a different perspective.

But you don't get to dictate an autistic perspective if you are not autistic. Or try to cancel anyone for it either.

I love Harry. And I relate to him SO MUCH. And I love how much representation I can see him through him for me. Because I personally believe Alan and the writers have chosen to keep presenting this character as ND.

It's okay to dislike the direction of his character development. It's okay to find the flaws. It's okay to share that perspective. What's NOT okay is dictating the feelings of others because they might not agree with you.

I don't find him childish. I see him as an autistic individual trying to navigate a society that his brain hasn't been hardwired to understand.

And if you think he's too childish, please look closer at the why you think he is. Really be introspective on this one.

Because Harry is a parent. And has a child. And he has relationships. And he takes care of himself. Not only that, he is the town doctor and takes care of everyone else too. He is the smartest. He is the strongest. None of the characters have had to worry about the wellfare of Harry specifically. Its why no one realizes the greys have captured him. Because of course Harry would be fine, hes the alien expert. He knows what he's doing. So while everyone else spent so much time worrying about each other, no one was left to worry about Harry.

So ask yourself why you believe Harry has become "too childish" and if your answer comes down to any of his quirky traits or his misunderstandings of human nature, then you really need to consider if what you're actually uncomfortable with is autism/autistic traits.

[mental69er]

i think what i really need in life is a jealous victoria smut and i just need her to dom me badly i just need to be taken by her

content: 18+, desk sex, jealous and possesive victoria, top victoria, slight choking (not even but tagging it just in case), fem reader

setting: you've been working for Victoria and dating her in secret

"What do you think you're doing?" Victoria demanded as she shut the door on you. The room was dark, the street lamp from outside struggling to let its light reach the inside. The sounds of the party outside were muffled, your festive mood muting too at the harsh tone Victoria used.

She took a step deeper into the room and you backed up, your back hitting the desk. The red solo cup filled with holiday punch crinkled in your nervous grip.

You had started working for Victoria six months ago, inspired by her hard working ethic and her advocacy. That starry eyed adoration soon turned to more when you got the position on her campaign and got to work under her. Long work hours together fostered romantic feelings that turned into a secret relationship.

Given the nature of her work, it would be bad press if your relationship got out since she was your superior. Had you done something at the party, slipped up in some way, and made it obvious that the two of you were entangled?

"I-I'm sorry," you told her. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Victoria stopped a few inches from you. She had decided to go with a deep plum power suit today, complete with a shirt that hung a little too low and had inspired you to look down several times when you had thought she wasn't looking.

Her perfume, that rich and heady scent that made you think of powerful people, surrounded you and you cursed the drinks you had drunk already. It made you want to put your hands all over her.

In fact, it was why you kept your distance tonight. That way you wouldn't kiss her or flirt with her out in the open.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you getting chummy with Lorie from Management?" she asked, tipping her head to the side, wearing that thin smile that meant she had little patience.

"I-uh," you had expected something else entirely. "I wasn't?" It came out as a question, and the uncertainty of it only seemed to make her more upset.

"You were," she said, plucking the drink from your hand and letting it slip into the trash can right by the desk. "I think that's enough for tonight. Maybe you should go home."

"Excuse me?" you couldn't help the indignation in your tone. "You don't get to decide that for me. And I was only chatting with her." Your heart pounds in your chest as realization comes to you. "Are you jealous?"

She leaned in at this, placing her hands on the edge of the desk. Mouth close, her dark eyes boring into you. "Who does she think she is, talking to you. Putting her hands on your shoulder."

"I wasn't flirting with her," you told her.

"But she was flirting with you." She hummed. "I don't like that."

You couldn't help it. You scoffed. "She doesn't know we're dating. And since we can't tell her, I'll just avoid her for the rest of the night. But I am not leaving. And, I will be drinking." You would not back down, because you would not be told what to do in a relationship.

You tried to indicate to Victoria to lean off of you, to let you pass, but she wouldn't let you. Instead, a small smirk began to wriggle it's way up her lips, that damned cocky look you loved so much breaking onto her face.

"I think after I'm done with you, you might need to go home," she whispered into your ear, breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "I intend to leave a mess."

You gasped involuntarily as you felt her hands grab you by the hips and tug you on top of the desk. "Victoria! We're at a party."

She ignored that, letting her hands run down your thighs. You could already feel yourself giving in, body turning to putty and she was barely touching you.

"Did you know this is her desk?" she smirked, voice low and thick as she stepped close enough to you that your knees were touching her.

A hot flush spread down from your chest to your thighs. "Victoria, seriously. She wouldn't have flirted with me if she had known you and I were dating."

"I don't care," she said, tone hard. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside her, seeing you with another woman almost draped over you. You hadn't even thought Lorie was hitting on you, simply been overly affectionate because she was a bit tipsy.

You hadn't known Victoria could even get jealous over someone like you. The idea of it, despite how risky it was to do anything during the company party, made you ache between your legs.

"Still, it's risky, with your campaign. The door's not even locked-"

"I don't care," she emphasized, nails digging into the flesh on your thighs. Oh, she was more upset about this than you thought. Fuck, why did the idea of that turn you on?

She kissed you without warning, hard, faces mashing together. You kissed her back just as hard, wrapping your legs around her hips to draw her in as her hand came up to cup your face, other hand on your neck lightly squeezing down. She didn't let up with the kiss, pressing in for another one, and then another, heads tilting to the side, tongue probing inside your mouth, hand on neck guiding you to stay where she wanted you, keeping control over the kiss.

You could feel her lipstick smearing all over your face with how messily she was kissing you. "I wish I could show them that you're mine," she mumured, breaking the kiss to mouth at your neck, no doubt spreading more lipstick that you would have to regretfully remove. "You'll have to show me how your mine, instead." She pushed you down lightly til you laid flat on the desk top. She tapped your hips and you released your leg lock on her.

"Go on, darling," she said. "Show me what's mine."

Blushing hard at her words, you shimmied out of your pants, throwing them aside, before slowly sliding your underwear off and letting it drop to the floor. The wood was cool on your overheating skin and sent small goosebumps prickling your skin.

You spread your thighs for her, fingers teasing apart your folds. You were certain it was too dark to see everything, but you knew for certain she could hear how wet you were.

"Tell me she can't have this," Victoria insisted as you could hear her swallow thickly. She placed her warm hands on your thighs and excitement mounted inside your stomach at how close she was.

You'd never seen Victoria jealous, never thought she ever could be, but seeing how much she needed you to be hers was doing things to you. Was it bad to say you wanted to see her more like this?

Deviously, you murmured, "maybe if you fuck me hard enough, I'll remember that this isn't hers."

That had the intended effect you wanted. "You're going to regret saying that. Turn around. I want you bent over that desk." The tight anger in her voice only made more wetness pool between your thighs. You quickly turned around. "You might want to hold on, because you'll need it," was her whispered warning into your ear as she poured herself over your back.

You just managed to grab onto the other end of the desk when she thrust two fingers deep inside you. You let out a surprised cry at the roughness of the motion, but she didn't ease the pace. Each thrust felt like it had the full force of her body behind it and you placed your mouth against the desk to try and stifle your cries.

She pressed kisses to your ear, muttering words. "You're mine, do you understand me? I will not share you. I don't even want other people looking at you."

You nodded your head, though you weren't sure if she wanted you to answer, busy as you were trying to keep quiet. The weight of her on top of you kept you pinned to the desk and you were desperate to raise your hips up to chase her fingers as they slid in and out of you, wet squelching noises filling in the room.

The party had long left your mind and you could only think of Victoria on you. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive clit and you jolted with pleasure. It wouldn't be long til you came.

"Your orgasm's are also mine," she reminded you, biting gently on the shell of your ear, slowing her thrusts. You let out a frustrated groan. "Understood?"

"Uh huh," you breathed out, wanting to come already.

She slipped her fingers out. "I said, do you understand."

"Yes!" you hissed out, squeezing your eyes shut with desperate want. Victoria slipped her fingers back in and went even harder than before. The pen holder on the desk fell over, spilling pens onto the floor, the stacked papers fell over with a light thud. You were glad nothing else was on this desk, otherwise you'd make an even bigger mess.

"You come, only when I tell you to come."

"Yes!" you hissed out, choking on the sounds of pleasure that wanted to erupt in full volume from your throat.

"Good," she said. She straddled the back of your thigh and began to roll her hips against you, free hand gripping the desk as well. It started to creak and groan with the combined effort of both of your motions.

You could feel yourself begin to grow close. "I want you to come with me," she ordered, fingers slowing as she rolled her hips into you with increased fervor, voice taking on a breathless quality.

You nodded your head dutifully, intending to hold out for her even as your pussy spasmed greedily on her fingers. She rode your leg, and you could feel her heat bleeding through her fabric. "Close," she muttered and rolled her thumb against your clit making you cry out.

"Come for me," she said, and with one more flick to your clit, you were coming, Victoria's hips stuttering to a stop. The two of you took a moment to recover and when she pulled you off the desk, one of the legs snapped and it slumped over with a loud crash.

You froze, worried that someone would come in and discover you if they hadn't already. But the noise from the party outside had increased. It seemed someone had turned on music. You let out a relieved breath.

"Did we, did we actually break her desk?" you muttered out in horror. How had that happened? You plucked your underwear and pants off of the floor and hastily tugged them on.

"Shitty quality desk," Victoria shrugged it off. "I'll order her a new one tomorrow." She paused. "Maybe."

You huffed. "You cannot still be mad at her."

Victoria said nothing, merely came up to wipe her smeared lipstick off of your mouth with her thumb. She smirked at the sight of you. "I think you're going to need to go home. Can't have you looking freshly fucked."

It was your turn to smirk now. "I think that you might have to as well," you said, hand sliding down to her pants and undoing the button there as you got to your knees in front of her.

[genericpuff]

So I watched ChattyMia's Lore Olympus video which was great and everyone should watch it. It seems most people who do series reviews of the Lore Olympus don't like the comic for obvious reasons. Then I was reminded by the end that the comic is expecting a TV series which is in development hell. It made me think that Rachel might be better off not having a Lore Olympus TV show. Most praise for the series died awhile ago as the story became an utter mess. If it did get a TV show, people will see the early red flags like the age gap, the treatment of Minthe, trying to excuse cheating, Hades horrible behavior to workers, nymphs being discriminated with no pushback, etc. If some of them read the comic for spoilers they would later see the other big red flags of the series. Excusing slave labor, Persephone threatening the lower class, Hera getting with Echo a 'trash nypmh' as she once called Minthe, Apollo gets community service, the continued mistreatment of Demeter etc. Which I feel will cause everyone to go 'wtf is this series? 50 Shades of Grey mixed with Keeping Up with the Kardashians?'. Then you have to wonder if some of them will do a deep dive and find the stuff about Rachel's tie to Lolita. It would be especially bad if a bigger content creator talked about it. And we already know Rachel doesn't handle criticism the best (i.e. the struggle street tweet, the Minthe cosplay situation or even the merch). So I could only imagine how much worse it would be for her if Lore Olympus got a TV show and more eyes got drawn to it and her. It would no longer be just confided to the web comics fanbase but the much larger TV one. Unless Rachel seriously considered rewriting the TV script (or rekindling it lol) I don't see how a TV adaptation of her show would be good press for her.

Yess I've seen that video, it's great! She did a great job summarizing a lot of the biggest core issues with LO's story and art without getting too lost in the sauce (though god knows the rabbithole of LO's issues runs INCREDIBLY deep in an equally fascinating and "oh god what the fuck did I just read' kind of way), her video editing was very entertaining and her Persephone cosplay was a great touch 😎

That said, regarding the thought of "most people who do series reviews of LO don't like the comic", there is an amount of bias we have to acknowledge there - there's often a lot more to say in the negative rather than the positive. By extension, people who simply enjoy LO and don't participate much in the online discussion surrounding it or the discourse concerning it are less likely to make 2 hour videos analyzing it. So while the popular opinion of LO has shifted more towards a negative point of view, that doesn't mean that fans of the comic don't exist - it's just that most of those fans are blissfully enjoying the comic and can only sum it up as "it's very pretty and the plot is great", whereas many people who didn't enjoy it are more likely to voice their opinions as to why in far more explicit detail (though on the flipside of that, it also goes to show that there's a lot more to analyze in LO's flaws than its strengths - it's ironic that the fans often don't have much to say beyond "it's cute" or "I relate to Persephone" and anything further than that is relegated to pure headcanon pieced together by assumption and best guesses to make up for Rachel's lack of writing).

All that aside though, regarding the TV adaption, at this point it's less a matter of reception and more a matter of relevancy. The perfect time to release or at least show us proof of the LO TV show was years ago, when the comic was at its peak between 2020-2021. The second best time was at last year's NYCC when Rachel was a headlining guest. The fact they still had nothing to show for it at this year's NYCC, with Rachel nowhere to be seen and instead focusing more on the Freaking Romance adaption with Snailords filling the role as their featured guest (an equally if not even more problematic creator), is astounding, but unsurprising.

To me, LO feels like a real life case of "Tortoise and the Hare". Back at the start of it all, in 2017-2018, it was doing what no other comic on the platform was doing, presenting us a retelling of the Hades and Persephone story - which was very popular on Tumblr at the time - through a modern setting and with art that was incredibly unique for the platform. That, paired with WT's aggressive marketing, propelled it far ahead every other comic on the platform, creating a gap so massive that even the comics in second place on the trending tabs still weren't even close to LO's lead in terms of stats and money.

But then it got complacent. Quality of the comic's writing and art dropped, it was becoming increasingly obvious that LO had become no more than a marketing grift akin to the likes of Harry Potter - easily turned into books, t-shirts, socks, coloring books, figures, etc. - and that gave way to an increase of criticism towards it, criticism that had always somewhat existed even as far back as its days on Tumblr, but was now amplified by the existing ongoing proof that LO was never all it was cracked up to be.

Now, at best they shill $200+ figurine pre-orders, but the show is nowhere to be seen and, with the comic now finished and locked behind Daily Pass, its relevancy is dying out. "Rachel Smythe Presents" still has nothing to show for itself, Rachel's IG and Twitter seem to be purely for merch-pushing by the Inklore team, and Rachel has, at best, two new series that she suddenly announced but, in her words, don't even have anything written or planned for them yet beyond the taglines that were thrown together for her socials.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Greek myth retelling industry is in a renaissance. Hades is still a massively popular game, with its sequel now in early access; Epic: The Musical has been making waves on Spotify and TikTok far exceeding that of LO's in terms of audience reach, and even has more to show for itself in the way of official animations than LO ever has; and now Kaos has recently launched its first season after being in production since 2018 - yes, you read that right, it got commissioned around the exact same time LO became an Originals series which suggests the idea for it was already floating around and being pitched prior to LO - and, frankly, has beaten LO at its own game by achieving everything LO set out to do - weaving a Greek epic-style story in a modern setting, balancing romance with prophecies and world-ending stakes. It took a while, but Kaos made it past the finishing line, while LO has been dragging itself behind it, still making empty promises that a TV show is "still in the works" and "coming soon", with not a single thing to show for itself.

LO may have gotten a head start in being the "sleek, modern, sexy Greek myth retelling" by the virtue of being a weekly webtoon, but slow and steady wins the race - the productions that have taken their time cooking in the oven are now coming out as beautiful and delicious as we, the guests at the table, were told would be, while LO is simply the short-term gratification junk food that bombards us with gimmicks but sits like a rock in our stomachs and leaves us unfulfilled and wishing for a better meal.

Those better meals are here now and they were absolutely worth the wait.

[traegorn]

hi! this is a loaded question but you're a voice i really appreciate. genuinely thank you for keeping calm and moving forward.

i was wondering: why does the left seem to have less "loyalty" to their biggest political party? i'm not trying to say we should be doing this, but the contrast between us and the right is so interesting to me. trump's numbers are generally similar to what they were, with some decrease. just personally, i know so many people who voted for trump despite assuring me that they dislike him, because his vision of america is apparently closer to what they want. and these are not maga, #get-rid-of-all-immigrants type people. they're moderate, in their own words. this has been consistent for the past few years; obviously i'm not a perfect representation, but i do meet a lot of people because of the nature of my job (and generally check in with them again after some time has passed), and this hasn't wavered.

there's a level of "will vote republican even if i hate it and am embarrassed by some of their stances" that i don't think many democrats have? maybe it's just the social media bubble but to me it feels like democrats struggle everyday to maintain the people they have. even some good legislative successes seem to be quickly followed by "ok but that's not enough", and when there are issues because of conservative control, even then democrats are blamed for. i guess. not having power and not blocking this?

or maybe you disagree entirely! just wanted to know your thoughts.

The answer is more obvious than you realize:

The right wing is built on authoritarianism, and authoritarians are more likely to fall in line with what they've been told.

That's it. It's really that simple.

[corellianhounds]

Redrafting The Phantom Menace

This is an informal essay/pitch meeting restructuring and changing The Phantom Menace to better utilize its characters and to make it a more compelling sequence of events.

Word Count: 5k

Art Credit: Doug Chiang

I think The Phantom Menace needs some of the biggest revisions of the prequels to set these characters up to be used better not just in the trilogy but in the film itself because not only is Obi-Wan mostly absent for all of Act II and nothing he does in that time affects the main plot on Tatooine, but Amidala’s presence doesn’t really add anything to it either. She learns a little about the culture on Tatooine and she meets Anakin and Shmi (which will be relevant in the next movie), but nothing she says or does affects the plot. Any of her protests against Qui-Gon don’t amount to anything since he’s the adult calling the shots, nothing in Act III is affected by their regard of one another, and she honestly could have just met Anakin on the ship on their return to Coruscant. Qui-Gon ends up being the main character of the movie, which I think was a mistake when Kenobi should have been the lens through which we saw the story unfold.

I don’t especially care for the slavery plot point to begin with because it doesn’t compel me as much as if Anakin and Shmi were just dirt poor. The slavery scenario feels like a way for the plot to keep Anakin and Shmi apart and for Shmi to remain destitute and it takes any real choice of the matter out of their situation. Of course she’s going to let Anakin go the second an opportunity like the one Qui-Gon’s offering falls out of the sky, who wouldn’t?

If she’s stuck in the cycle of poverty and had a choice in the matter of sending her extra set of hands away while she stays behind, that gives a little more meat to her character. Have her indebted to the Hutts or something, give her some astronomical loans she’s struggling to pay off, meaning everything they can spare just gets funneled directly into that debt so they have very little money or means to escape to a better life. What that sets up is Shmi being given the agency and genuine choice of either sending Anakin to be a Jedi because she wants him to have a better life, or keeping him there to help her work off the debt. The control chip won’t be keeping them tethered to that location and it keeps both Amidala and Qui-Gon from being complacent in leaving Shmi to be a slave.

If you wanted for Shmi and Anakin to be slaves, but wanted to solve some of the moral quandaries and give all of the characters more active roles in driving the story (and not just tell the audience “These are the circumstances, the Jedi can’t get involved with local matters, their hands are tied”) what you could have done was have Obi-Wan join Qui-Gon and Amidala on their trip instead of Jar Jar. Shmi explains the circumstances keeping them slaves, Obi-Wan can see Qui-Gon leaning towards doing something to help them, but because he’s more inclined towards following the rules than Qui-Gon is, Kenobi tells them honestly that they don’t have enough people to fight for the freedom of the slaves, and they’re already short on funds and already on a mission trying to save people on Naboo.

Kenobi’s also the one to also bring up a logical part of the Jedi Code: instead of saying they can’t interfere with local politics, he points out an obvious rule they would have in saying “The Jedi aren’t allowed to buy slaves either,” because yeah obviously the Jedi wouldn’t be allowed to do that. Even if that’s the easiest way to free somebody, the Jedi can’t do anything that would compromise other people’s faith in them, because yeah maybe you freed that person, but now that person either has to remain on the planet where that practice still exists and they could easily end up there again once you leave, OR you as the Jedi have to take them with you and hmmmmmmm seems pretty suspicious if you ask me, sounds like you just bought yourself your own slave.

Even dropping that person on a safe planet isn’t a great option because they would likely have no understanding of or foundation on that planet, and they especially wouldn’t have a support network of any kind. How much money, time, and resources do you have to devote to setting them up for success, now that you’ve gotten them out of a life of bondage? Completely uprooting yourself and starting from nothing in a completely new country alone is bad enough— Imagine an entirely separate planet. The alternative is obviously keeping that person with you and placing them under your own care and protection, but that’s exactly what makes you look like you bought a person to begin with and now we’re back to square one.

But, Amidala is there, and she’s a queen. She would likely have oodles of money at her disposal. Ignore the whole “Republic credits don’t spend out here” and say SHE offers to buy both Anakin and Shmi’s freedom, extending the offer by saying Anakin could train at the temple and Shmi could become a ladies maid or a consultant to the queen on Outer Rim territories, something Amidala even says she’s not familiar with. Both of them would be taken care of, Shmi would have a support network and a means of income and the freedom to leave at any time if she wished, nothing wrong with that.

In the end, however it happens, Shmi could be freed from being a slave (since that happens between this movie and Attack of the Clones anyway), but she makes the choice for herself to decline Amidala’s offer. Tatooine, though a harsh planet, is still her home and all she’s ever known. Being taken out of that environment and thrust into one of courtly nobility isn’t one a lot of people would be able to adapt to. Amidala finds a way to maintain communication so if there’s ever any trouble, Shmi has a contact who cares about her wellbeing, and she chooses for herself to remain behind and let Anakin go because that’s what is best for him. The characters are the ones making choices with their own objectives and reasonable enough justification for what they do instead of the circumstances moving them around.

There’s plenty of other ways the story would change by giving them those more active roles and choices. Obi-Wan and Anakin and Qui-Gon would all obviously have more of a relationship to build off of if they’re all there together, which will make Qui-Gon’s death more meaningful for the both of them and will introduce history that will carry over into Attack of the Clones whenever Anakin thinks Shmi might be in trouble. Amidala would have a more grounded interest and stronger connection to Shmi herself, and Anakin’s frustration with Obi-Wan concerning the rule about one’s personal attachments creates more effective interpersonal conflict when Anakin argues that she’s in danger. “Master, if you had the chance to prevent Qui-Gon’s death— If you’d known ahead of time that it would happen— Wouldn’t you have done whatever you could to stop it?”

If you cut down Act I enough (because you don’t really need the entire underwater sequence, Jar Jar was in exile up on land and you could have just had him lead them to the palace, which would have given us the chance to see the invasion affecting the citizens and common folk), Tatooine could have been the majority of Act I with the race being the climax. Make the Separatists more of an enemy force that’s actually intimidating and isn’t just mad about taxation of trade routes. Say they’ve been doing their own thing independent of the Republic for some time and don’t care about the legality of what they’re doing and have the Jedi discover the droid armies and the plot to take over Naboo because it’s a pacifist planet rich in whatever resources the Separatists want to take for themselves.

Cut out the Gungans and the underwater sequence and have whoever Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meet on land take them to the Theed palace as a navigator directly. I don’t care for Jar Jar’s character and he doesn’t add anything to the film besides (weak) comic relief and a connection to the Gungan army at the end, which can easily be altered if you give Ahmed Best a better character just as himself, leading the Jedi through the forest to Theed. On the way there we see the recent havoc wreaked by the droid army and the effects the invasion is having on the people of Naboo, making the war feel a lot more real and immediate. Make Best’s people like the people of Rohan in Lord of the Rings who have survived as independent nomads and mounted woodland riders for centuries, not given as much support by the city-states and the capital but otherwise left to their own devices (setting them up to become the main cavalry/fighters at the end). They don’t have to be enemies of Theed, but they're not on great terms. They're the first people we see affected by the war, the destruction a lot more down to earth, showing us the severity of the Separatist’s actions and giving us a legitimate sense of danger and despair.

The three of them make it to Theed and manage to save the queen and her entourage. Amidala is introduced desperately trying to make contact with Palpatine in the Senate, the circumstances conveyed much more urgently than before, and she tells the Jedi that she’d been trying to contact them before the invasion even started. In the midst of the fighting Amidala makes a pointed effort to save Best’s character, the two of them making a connection as they move and showing both him and the audience that the queen does care about what happens to people who live beyond the city and palace walls. Qui-Gon convinces Amidala that they need to get her to Coruscant to plead their case on behalf of her people to the Senate. Amidala pleads for Best’s character to call upon the peoples living in the woods and to tell them that the capital city has been invaded and taken over too but that help is on the way. Amidala may be a pacifist, but this invasion shows her that her ideology won’t save her people because it doesn’t matter to the invaders whether you’ve done anything to “deserve” that oppression or not. Those who don’t live by the sword can still die by them.

If the Senate is too far removed from their corner of the galaxy to see that innocent people are being slaughtered and that the Separatists have waged a war that has isolated Naboo by severing their communications network, then she’s going to plead their case by taking it directly to Coruscant herself. Who’s to say theirs is the first planet the Separatists have done this to? What other occupations might they be unaware of?

The ship is still damaged upon their escape, forcing them to make an emergency landing on Tatooine. Amidala has some money with her, but her accounts have been frozen by the Separatists and she won’t be able to acquire more unless they manage to save Naboo and she’s restored as queen. The Jedi also have some money with them, but even together it’s not enough to buy the hyperdrive piece.

In this timeline we go with Kenobi being present with Qui-Gon and Padmé (still disguising herself as a handmaiden, Qui-Gon having a hunch as to who she is though Kenobi doesn’t know) and we cut out Watto and change the slavery circumstances to the Skywalkers being impoverished and indebted instead. City boy Kenobi, unfamiliar with the terrain or locals, accidentally bumps into whoever it is who tries to start a fight and Anakin jumps in and mediates for them. Qui-Gon thanks him and Anakin points out there’s a storm coming and takes them all back to his and his mom’s place, despite Kenobi’s protests that the mission takes precedence and the ‘queen’ has only her personal guard at the moment, they really should be finding the parts and getting back to the ship.

Over dinner the group discusses their prospects. Anakin was already planning to race in the Boonta Eve Classic to put the prize money towards finally paying off his mother’s debt. He and Shmi exchange a look, and he decides he wants to help them out of the goodness of his heart or whatever and in exchange for part of the money, Qui-Gon also offers him the chance to become a Jedi because he senses there’s something different about this kid. Kenobi protests, citing the fact the boy’s too old and they don’t have a solid reason to think he’s sensitive to the Force (regardless of what Shmi tells them about the circumstances of his birth). Have him be the skeptic providing the opinion the council would give, giving the conflict that will spur conversation between himself and Qui-Gon in order to provide exposition for the audience and prompt tension between himself and Anakin that’ll evolve as their relationship and reliance on one another in this movie progresses.

Now.

The consequence of Kenobi being present for all of this is that his and Anakin’s and Qui-Gon’s relationships are given focus and development, but it also means the ship is left without a Jedi guard.

Now let’s say Darth Maul finds the ship sooner while the main characters are occupied: Maul kidnaps Sabé, kills the rest of the guard, destroys the ship, and then he leaves. Qui-Gon, Kenobi, and Padmé hear what happens from R2, the only one who survives. Cut out whatever extraneous Watto junk happens and have this be what ups the stakes for the race because now they end up needing all of the winnings to buy a whole ship, not just to get a part. Amidala does the whole handmaiden reveal here and they realize that buys them a little time since Sabé signing the treaty will mean nothing when it comes out that she wasn’t actually the queen, but that will only be a possibility if they can provide Coruscant with further evidence of the Separatists’ plot and subjugation of the people.

Kenobi by now has figured out that the disturbance he’s been feeling in the force must have been the dark warrior who tracked their ship and stole the ‘queen,’ R2’s security footage getting them a good look of Maul. Kenobi and Qui-Gon confer and realize that if this guy is a Sith Lord, they HAVE to get back to Naboo to stop him at any cost. If he’s been the real power behind the Separatists this whole time, then losing Naboo to their control must be part of a larger scheme that will lead the Republic to war.

Now it comes back down to Anakin and Shmi. Either Anakin doesn’t want to give them the rest of the money, having wanted to provide for his mom too, and Shmi has to reassure him that she’ll be fine before he agrees to still participate in the race and give them the money, or Anakin’s unaware of the change in circumstances at all and Shmi’s the one to say they can have all of the winnings provided Qui-Gon gives her his word that Anakin will be guaranteed a better life being trained as a Jedi. Either way, Shmi’s the one in control of her decision to let Anakin go while she chooses to remain behind. Despite Amidala’s offer for Shmi to just come with them as part of her court or entourage, Shmi declines, knowing Anakin needs a clean break in order to dedicate himself to this new life and that her place was still there on Tatooine, and the Skywalkers are able to part ways with Anakin still missing his mom.

During the whole Tatooine sequence Kenobi has his doubts about Anakin, but during the race we see Anakin finally do some incredible feat that defies all logic, bringing down a rockslide to his advantage or controlling a dust storm or standing out on the bow of his speeder holding the now-damaged, motley assembly together with the invisible hold of the Force itself as he crosses the finish line. There needs to be a clear show of something unexplainable for both the audience and the other characters to see (Kenobi especially) that convinces us this kid has an exceptional command over the Force even untrained, not just that he’s a child prodigy when it comes to racing and mechanical ingenuity. Kenobi needs to be convinced that taking the kid is a good idea here because it provides the basis for their relationship moving forward and it gives ample reason for Anakin to be included in all of the further peril without any of the responsible characters logically being worried for his safety. (As it is in the movies, we never actually see Anakin do enough to warrant being considered “the Chosen One” since nothing he does isn’t something other trained experts of that skill could feasibly do. He needs to be visibly, uniquely powerful even for a Force-user.)

After the race they have to scramble to get transportation and head back to Naboo. Keep their communications interrupted so they can’t contact the Jedi council back on Coruscant to tell them about the invasion, the handmaiden switch, OR Anakin possibly being the Chosen One.

In this interim we see Maul on his ship discussing his success with Sidious over a holocall, along with the next steps of the plan. Sabé is locked in a holding cell, unbeknownst to Maul acting as a spy and gathering information, reading his lips and figuring out what conversation is being had though she can’t hear the voice of the person in the hood (because logically she’d be able to deduce that it’s Palpatine on the other end of the call). It’s obvious this mysterious agent doesn’t know she’s one of the handmaidens because otherwise she suspects she’d be dead, and it’s clear they need ‘the queen’ alive for something. Depending on how you want to play the scene and the characters, she could either remain stoically silent after he’s done talking to Sidious, taking everything in and observing serenely while environmental storytelling gives us the clues and info she’s picking up on, or Maul could monologue/antagonize her, or she could try to negotiate with him under the guise of the queen, subtly trying to figure out his motives, or she could just outright question him, reasoning that he’s not going to do anything to her since she’s needed alive (to which Maul could refuse to give up anything and instead easily threaten her once he decides she’s gotten too comfortable, maybe even giving us some visual foreshadowing/parallels to Anakin in Revenge of the Sith by using the Force to hold her by the throat and remind her that she need only arrive to Naboo alive, not unscathed.).

Have the Theed city battle happen as Act II, show more of the Separatists’ effect on the people they’re subjugating, and have Anakin involved on the ground instead of in the gunship. He ends up seeing/being involved in the Duel of the Fates, exhibiting an impressive display of the Force and throwing up a force field that blocks what would have been a fatal hit from Maul against the two Jedi. Anakin uses the Force to fling Darth Maul back, though it’s not enough to get him off his feet. Maul’s distracted for just a moment as his boots gain traction and he skids to a halt, locking eyes with the kid before he uses the Force to throw Anakin into the path of danger as Qui-Gon approaches. Obi-Wan diverts course to save Anakin and gets him out of the way, telling him to stay back as Maul continues to fight Qui-Gon. Anakin ends up separated when Obi-Wan jams the control for the force field corridor, cutting him off from the fight as Kenobi and Qui-Gon back Maul towards the reactor shaft together.

Anakin surveys the hangar and starts to climb up to the access catwalks overhead, trying to get to the Jedi to help, but as he finally reaches a position overlooking the room he realizes he’s too late. Darth Maul hits Qui-Gon and stabs him through the chest as Kenobi screams. This time however, Kenobi isn’t fast enough in the aftermath to do anything beyond wounding Maul, and when Maul is nearly hit by Anakin doing the equivalent of throwing a ship at him, he escapes.

Kenobi’s and Anakin’s shared story with Qui-Gon comes to a close as Qui-Gon dies and Kenobi tells Anakin he’ll apprentice him instead, and that he has strong evidence for the council that Anakin is the Chosen One. Cut back to Sabé relaying to Amidala through covert means that the dark warrior isn’t acting alone; he’s taking orders from somebody he calls Master, and even if he is killed, it’s likely he’s not the only one directing the war from the shadows. Have the Separatists win the battle and Naboo seemingly come under their control, the treaty signed by Sabé (the Separatists still unaware she’s a decoy).

Maul makes a break for it to head back to Coruscant, for the moment incapacitated and in no condition to fight Kenobi and Anakin together. Kenobi may be alive, but Maul’s mission to make sure the Separatists took Naboo and that the queen signed the treaty is complete, and he tells Sidious over a holocall that there’s a child with Kenobi who is strong in the Force and could be a threat to them…. Unless he can be turned to the dark side.

Kenobi and Anakin sneak around and meet up with Amidala and her remaining entourage and tell her that she has to come back to Coruscant with them because only her presence there while Sabé remains behind (never leaving the Separatists’ watch) will be what shows the Senate that the treaty is void. They scheme to go back to Coruscant with the still-undiscovered true queen; Amidala uses the handmaidens to disperse the message and ready an ambush with the help of Ahmed Best’s character and countrymen, telling those who remain behind not to fight back yet but to comply with the Separatists until she can provide the Senate with the proof of the truth.

The three of them with Amidala’s retinue return in stealth to Coruscant. Keep Amidala from telling Palpatine anything because maybe he was just as complacent as the rest of the senators who didn’t believe her when she voiced concerns of the Separatists setting up an invasion of the planet prior to the movie. Kenobi enlists the help of the council members, telling them what truly happened and that a Sith is behind the Separatists’ machinations, and they also provide video footage of the carnage they saw levied against the people of Theed. The council prompts Senator Organa to bring up the Naboo treaty during the Senate session. The Senate pulls up a holovid conference call with the Separatists and remaining Naboo politicians, Sabé among them, the Separatists showing their “proof” of being able to reach a “peaceful accord.”

And THEN Padmé Amidala steps forward in the Senate to reveal her true identity and the plot the Separatists had the whole time forcing who they thought was the queen to sign the treaty under extreme duress while their people died in the streets and countryside. There’s a collective gasp as her witnesses, including Obi-Wan, come forward with evidence to the veracity of that statement, and the Senate erupts in an uproar as the Separatists flounder on the call, having been caught in the act in front of an audience of thousands.

The holocall is cut short as we the audience see the handmaidens, the remaining guards, and Ahmed Best’s character and his people back on Naboo spring the ambush on the Separatists in the palace, and we see the tide change as the people of Naboo fight back together. Valorum tries to keep order but the longer he goes without taking decisive action the worse he starts to look, and Palpatine quickly steps in to propose a vote of no confidence against him— If Valorum isn’t willing to send arms and support to a pacifist planet clearly under military attack right now, what’s to say he’ll ever do it for anybody else there among them? At what point is it considered an act of war against the Republic, if not now? The people of the Senate begin to concur and Republic forces quickly rally support for Naboo, senators from neighboring planets ordering their fleets to converge on Naboo to lend aid and route the fleeing Separatists as an emergency meeting is called to force Chancellor Valorum to step down.

(Palpatine meanwhile is absolutely seething behind his fake shock and horror, and as soon as he’s able to reconvene out of the Senate chamber he comms Darth Maul like “YOU ABSOLUTE #!$%*&@ IDIOT YOU GOT THE WRONG GIRL”)

Maul’s coming to several conclusions at once with a metric ton of dread flash-fried by anger and they both know they can’t do anything to Amidala OR the politicians back home on Naboo while all eyes are turned that way, BUT Maul realizes that this was all Kenobi’s fault and— probably knowing Palpatine's going to wring his neck if he ever gets his hands on him— he goes rogue in order to get his revenge against Kenobi and try to preserve his standing with his master. The climax of Act III comes down to a much more publicly visible and hard-hitting fight between Darth Maul and Kenobi before Anakin (who’s been with Obi-Wan the whole time and was supposed to be in hiding) uses the Force again to shield Obi-Wan right as it looks like Darth Maul is about to strike the killing blow. Maul’s saber bounces off the shield and in shock he turns to see Anakin, who he recognizes as the kid from the Theed palace who thwarted him then too. Obi-Wan shouts “No!” as Maul charges, and Anakin scrambles away and throws up a shield in front of himself that Maul strikes once, twice, a third time before it shatters, each side of the Force colliding, causing an explosive blast that takes out half of the tower floor with it and rendering Anakin unconscious.

Just as Maul rears back to kill Anakin, his saber meets that of Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan pushes him back, determined and revitalized.

The fight ends dramatically on top of one of the skywalks of Coruscant, Jedi and Sith locked in battle as word quickly starts to travel and people start racing up to the tower. Obi-Wan succeeds in cutting Maul’s saber apart before ultimately stabbing him just as Maul had done to Qui-Gon, sending him off the overbridge to his death.

Naboo is shown winning against the invasion thanks to help from the Republic, and the people of Theed and the surrounding forests are saved. Ahmed Best’s character and Sabé are both hailed as victors, the two of them standing united with their people together after a successful ambush and reclamation of Naboo. Kenobi’s a veritable hero, receiving praise from both politicians and Jedi for discovering and eliminating the Sith. The Jedi council manage to frame Maul’s presence as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan “mission” this whole time, and Kenobi’s valor and strategy award him the rank of Knight. The council is still wary of Anakin, but he’s been shown to have had a surprising awareness and command of the Force, and if he’s capable of that without training, they can’t let him continue to live as a civilian with that amount of power unchecked, agreeing that the boy needs supervision, guidance, and accountability. It doesn’t help that Obi-Wan’s determined to keep Anakin as his Padawan now, especially since training him was Qui-Gon’s dying wish.

Sidious manages to frame Maul for the loss of Naboo to the Separatists, telling them that he has been “dealt with.” Though Darth Maul is defeated and the public’s faith in the Jedi remains intact, the Jedi council is deeply troubled by the apparent return of the Sith, and they confer with Kenobi, Anakin, Sabé and Amidala (who are unfortunately accompanied by Senator Palpatine) about what knowledge they have, knowing they need to keep word of a potential second Sith under wraps for the public’s well-being and peace of mind. The fact the Separatists have been revealed to have massive covert operations taking over smaller planets with the aid of droid armies for a while now is shocking enough as it is; they can’t afford widespread panic over the possibility of this being orchestrated by a Sith, let alone more than one.

The result of those decisions, as well as the very public fight Kenobi had with Maul, means that the Jedi are now inextricably bound to serve in the war, still unsure of how they couldn’t have sensed the Sith to begin with, and it sets up Kenobi to wonder if perhaps the Jedi involvement in the war and their deaths at the end of it are his fault for being too rash and ready to fight. It’ll drive his character to mature and become more of a negotiator, and try to keep Anakin from choosing to act without thinking moving forward. Though both Kenobi and Amidala have saved people in this movie, it was done through actions that forced them to compromise their anti-war ideologies, and those irreversible actions will directly lead people who were once pacifists and protectors into war.

That plotline forces the characters together more organically and still covers the same amount of ground and achieves the same result, but utilizes the characters better and creates more of a sense of urgency than before. The consequence of these changes is that Palpatine will later ascend as Supreme Chancellor with sympathy from a majority of the Senate, meaning the Grand Army of the Republic is formed between this movie and the next, setting up Attack of the Clones to be happening in the midst of the war. Sidious has contingency plans upon contingency plans; he still has Count Dooku in his back pocket, still has the Separatists on his side, and now he has his sights set on the young prodigy from Tatooine who seems verrrrrryy interesting to him. He can misdirect the Jedi’s suspicions of Sith towards Dooku and General Grievous, should they end up being discovered, still keeping all eyes off of himself. Palpatine also has a much stronger motivation to assassinate Amidala after this since she’s proven to be more capable than he realized and isn’t just a political pawn he can manipulate. She’s unpredictable, and she needs to be eliminated.

[valyrfia]

hi i came here from thearchercore where they said that you think there seem to be friendship cliques forming around the paddock as of late like carlando vs. lestappen. i've seen these divides between fans but what makes you think there's also that divide between drivers?

I wouldn't call them friendship cliques. More....workplace alliances regarding the way F1 is going and the way F1 should go.

(Full disclaimer. This is a theory of grid dynamics that's been brewing for a little while in my head and I've only really bounced it off people in dms so far, so feel free to critique or refine it.)

Now, why would these two camps clash? Apart from interpersonal reasons (power struggles at any of the teams for example, I think any of the drivers listed racing or PR would resent being labelled as the team's n2 driver), F1 itself as a sport is at a crossroads. We're seeing the obvious effect of DTS in popularising the sport and making these athletes world-famous. In the past, only the world champions really became world-renowned. Now, most drivers are massive social media stars, or even proper A-list celebrities in their own right (Daniel at the Met Gala, for example). This one one hand is brilliant for the sport, because it brings more attention and eyes, and F1 becomes far more popular than it ever has been in the past. Liberty media especially is fond of this, as it brings in more profit for them.

However, in a lot of ways quintessential aspects of racing are lost via appealing to the masses. We see this in the removal of traditional purpose-built tracks in the calendar to make way for street races, in team line ups prioritising the PR-friendliness of a driver much more than before. The question of can the individual personalities of these drivers be sold is now a much bigger factor when considering a line up now than it was even ten years ago.

Since the question of racing vs. PR is raging in F1 in general right now, I think there's natural battle lines being drawn up in the paddock at the moment, that seem to fall along drivers which prioritise racing results over PR, and drivers that rely on PR/sponsors to boost their image without the racing results to necessarily back it up. Let's call them the racing clique vs. the PR clique for simplification.

Furthermore, I think these battlelines are drawn between teammates more often than not. So for example, I'd say Oscar tends to fall into the racing clique, Lando the PR clique (because let's be frank, his level of hype in British media especially WITHOUT a grand prix win is a little ridiculous). Likewise, if we consider our once and future RBR teammate pair, Max is the racing, Daniel the PR.

Ferrari is a little trickier because Charles is a PR mastermind and plays the PR game well in order to manipulate public perception about him. However, I will say that above all Charles has a fair estimation of his own abilities, an incredible racing IQ, and a sharp hunger to win that shines through despite the scrupulous Ferrari PR training (lest we forget the origin of the Il Predestinato name). For this reason, I think I place him in the racing camp. Considering the way that the Sainz camp uses leaks, well-timed sympathy posts, and Carlando to boost the public perception of Carlos's racing ability, I would place Carlos in the PR camp.

There are also other natural flash tensions between these people, but from Lando and Daniel distancing themselves from Max post his Vegas derogatory comments (@tsarinablogs has written some good thinkpieces on this), to the Ferrari civil war (as currently being chronicled by @thearchercore, along with some pretty good evidence as to McLaren trying to copy Ferrari's contract renewal hype, which further puts Lando and Charles into conflict). I don't think the happy go lucky Landoscar dynamic will survive McLaren being a competitive car, especially if Oscar wins a grand prix before Oscar.

There are faultlines and flashpoints forming in the paddock, and I think that especially with the incoming silly season, this question of PR vs. racing when picking drivers will be thrown into haut relief and that'll serve to only heighten the natural and/or pre-existing tensions between these two different groups of people.