#in which i did not mean to completely do that
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ceesimz · 2 days ago
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Highs and Lows
Your past is your past, but your future is hers. (angst -> fluff)
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After everything you’d been through in the past, you always thought you would end up alone. Every failed relationship was another sucker punch to your heart, causing cracks that allowed doubts and insecurities to leak through into your mind, forming iced walls to your soul no one could melt to get to you.
“Perdoni? Vinc a buscar el meu vestit.”
Her voice was so warm, so polite, when she first spoke. How her accent wrapped around her mother tongue was smooth and welcoming, like it didn’t matter that you were about to disappoint her upon first greeting. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Catalan.” 
She met you with a forgiving smile, shaking her head and waving her hand to brush off your apology. 
“Está bien. Uh, my
 my suit? I pick it up?” 
The suit wasn't ready for pickup at that time, a mixup between you and the owner of the small tailor shop you worked at who had seemingly gotten a bit too festive the night before and forgotten to do the schedule for the day. So she stayed and chatted with you as you did it, which was actually very helpful since she could try on her blazer that needed the most work doing, though it was more her asking you questions and you giving her curt responses than an actual, normal conversation. You couldn't help it, it had become second nature to you at this point. People had betrayed your trust in all kinds of ways before, and it was sure to happen again.
It was Christmas Eve when you met her, but it took some time before you really let her in.
“So, I ask you, will you be my Valentine?” 
That day, the thirteenth of February, when she'd come in with a dress that needed adjusting slightly for her sister, she was a woman on a mission. Alexia wasn't used to people shutting her down when she had her mind set on something, and since you were the first to tell her otherwise, she knew you were the one.
“How many times do I have to tell you I won't go on a date with you? I'm not looking for relationships or even friendships right now.” 
She was kind. Compassionate. Every time she spoke, you couldn’t help but hang on to every word she said. That didn’t mean you were falling for her tricks though. Your walls were up, and they were high. You didn’t know a thing about her, and her you, but she was like a dog with a bone. Sometimes, you feared she had bad intentions with it. That’s the kind of roads your mind took you on.
“Okay, no Valentine. But, coffee? Conmigo?”
Why was she so adamant to get to know you? Just some nobody that worked at a tailor shop, spending hours on the nights you couldn’t sleep drawing and designing all kinds of clothes that’d never see the light of day outside your notebook. Judging by how she dressed, she was definitely comfortable financially, at least. She had good taste, and dressed in a way that exemplified her mindset and who she wanted to be. With every smart coat and fresh out-of-the-box pair of trainers she wore, you felt like you got a peek inside her mind each time you saw her. Then there was you, dressed down and comfortable for a day sat in front of a sewing machine and a desk.
“I told you, I don’t want to.”
Alexia remembered vividly the day she first heard you laugh. The sound of it made her laugh too, not because she found it funny, but because she got such a burst of euphoria out of it that it was her body’s natural instinct to react like that. All day and every night, you were on her mind. And, something that was completely out of character for her, she found herself looking for excuses to come to the tailor shop just to see you.
“Hm. People do not say no to me. I will keep trying, lo prometo.” 
A tap on the counter, and she left after that. 
As you expected, she kept to her word; the next day, she brought the coffee to you. Four coffees, actually. One without milk, one with normal milk, one with almond milk, and one with oat milk, just so she could find out what was your favourite.
“I don’t drink coffee. Of any kind, with any milk.”
That was the day you laughed for the first time, you couldn’t help it, the way her face fell after you revealed your secret was way too funny to not laugh. She feigned disapproval when you went into the backroom, grabbed a sharpie and a square of cardboard, and wrote ‘free coffee with every pickup!’ on it to put on the counter.
Though, you came to a realisation that day, one that kept you up through the night. She was the first person in years that actually stayed true to their promise. So maybe you did crack a little then, and when she walked in the next day to collect what she’d left the previous morning, you handed her the cardboard with your number on the back. Hardly two minutes passed after she left before your phone pinged. 
For a few days, instead of her coming to you as you learned she was travelling for work, the pair of you exchanged texts. All day long. Sometimes, all night long too. There was just
 something about her that pulled you in. You were tired of resisting that. 
“So I see you tomorrow? I will pick you up. With, with flowers! Hasta mañana, cariño!” 
The excitement that radiated off of her as she scurried out of the shop, late for work, after you caved and took her up on her offer for dinner together was addictive. Her smile was a beautiful one, you’d come to realise, and you wanted to see it everyday whenever you could. Someone hadn’t shown this amount of interest you in
 ever. You had hoped it’d be different this time around- surely she wouldn’t disappoint you like everyone else, you’d think. 
There was a brightly coloured bouquet in her arms when she met out outside the shop when your shift had finished. By that point, you’d known her for a number of months now, and as you ate dinner and talked, laughed, smiled, with her that evening over some of the best tapas you’d ever had, you felt bad that she had to wait so long.
You decided, there and then, you were going to be more proactive about your feelings which had been there since the first day she walked in. Repressing them was only preventing you from exploring something that could be your whole future. 
“I
 I really want to kiss you goodnight. Can I kiss you?”
Never did you think that the beautiful blonde woman who showed up on a cloudy Sunday morning would be the one to make you break all the rules you’d made for yourself. They weren’t rules, really. They were insecurities you told yourself were rules, because you believed them so wholeheartedly that you never thought they’d be snapped in half by someone like her. Someone that started buying oversized clothes, trousers that were too long or suits with sleeves too loose for her liking, just so she could see you.
“You can kiss me goodnight, Ale.”
Takes one small mistake for a good thing to be ruined. 
You didn’t know exactly what she did for work. You knew she worked in the sports industry, but that was it. You never really asked in detail what she did, you didn’t want to talk about your job so when she said the same thing, who were you to deny her of that?
So, imagine your surprise, when you’re at your friend’s house, only to see Alexia on the TV, bowing in a stadium of almost one hundred thousand spectators that chanted her name. Alexia, the slightly shy and quietly confident woman that took any excuse to meet up with you, was someone else entirely.
“My job
 it’s not that important. There are more, ah, interesting topics to talk about.”
That wasn’t the truth. She had lied to you, about her job, about who she really was. 
Even in the four walls of your friend’s home, the sheer amount of people began to make you feel overwhelmed. You’d never seen that many people in your life, nevermind in one place. But Alexia? It was just any other day at work, obviously. For you, it was just another day where someone you trusted turned around and betrayed you.
The night before, she kissed you for the first time. It was something you couldn’t ever forget, and the resentment towards yourself began to set in as you sat there on the sofa, watching this stranger run up and down the grass pitch, you far from her mind. From the colours she wore that matched the ones by the winning team by the scoreline in the top corner, she was doing well. And you were happy for her. 
You didn’t know a thing about football, and that was yet another thing to add to the list of differences between you both. Alexia, confident, controlled in everything she does, determined. You, lost in your life, lost in yourself, and unmotivated. 
“Can’t be worse than mine, right?”
That night, after you went home, hands shaking and chest heaving with short, panicked breaths as you walked, you turned your phone off. You didn’t want to hear from her, and you knew she would text you before she went to sleep. 
When you got into bed, you didn’t feel a thing. You lay on your back, eyes unmoving from the ceiling above, and simply sighed. All those months ago, you knew you should have stuck to your rules. Getting close to her and letting her in was the reason why you were hurting now, it was all your fault that you were left like this.
Yet, you didn’t feel a thing, in the end, you were just
 numb. 
“Why did it take you so long to go on a date with me?”
This was something you were used to now, a dance you knew every step to. The end result was different, however, because it had happened so often that it never surprised you anymore. It had just been a matter of time. 
No tears were shed, no anger was held, there was nothing but emptiness. Every second since that first meeting on Christmas Eve had been taken up by Alexia, whether that was her physical presence in front of you or the daydreams in your mind. Now, there was only regret, as you thought over every moment with her. The feel of how her hand felt in yours was substituted with coldness, the same chill that encased your heart again. The taste of her lips, how soft they felt against yours, was something you got to experience once. This aftermath was worth that. Nothing could ever compare to it.
“I
 I have a past. I don’t want history to repeat itself. I guess I was just
 scared.” 
It was foolish to have admitted that to her. You didn’t intend to, it was more a moment of weakness. Her arms were around you, your back to her chest as you lay together on her couch in the comfortable darkness of her living room only a few nights before she kissed you. The admission was out in the open before you could stop it, and you hated the fact she had heard you say that and still continued to lie to you. You had no idea how the woman you thought she was could whisper her next words whilst keeping her own secret locked away.
“You don’t have to be scared with me. I would never hurt you. Lo prometo.”
After a sleepless night that was entertained by memories of you and the stranger you were in love with passing through your mind like a slideshow, you returned to work like nothing happened. You showed up even earlier than normal, a whole hour earlier, the sun only just beginning to peek over the horizon. The bell rang as you opened the door to the little hole-in-the-wall shop, the same one that became the anthem to Alexia’s arrival and departure whenever she paid you a visit. 
There were countless visits, each one a memory you could describe in detail, though there wasn’t any point in doing that, seeing as they’d just led to another broken promise.
You were knee-deep in repairing a zipper on some old lady’s favourite jacket when the bell rang again. Of course, your mind immediately jumped to her, but in reality it was probably just the owner. It was still another half hour before the shop opened.
“Perdoni? Estic buscant la
” You knew that voice anywhere.
She trailed off when you rounded the corner, and you gave no reaction whereas her eyebrows shot up, before falling straight back down as she sighed in relief. 
“GrĂ cies a dĂ©u. You are here.” Just like the first time, the way she spoke was ineffably soft. Though, there was an allure to it, like she knew something was wrong and she desperately wanted to fix it. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked in what could only be described as an insecure whisper. 
She took two steps towards the counter, the only physical object that separated you both, nevermind the recent events. 
“You did not text or call last night. And you look
” She shook her head and frowned, taking another step. “You look tired. And upset.”
That was one thing that had transpired in the time you spent with her, she came to read you surprisingly well. 
“You wear your heart on your sleeve. I'm not sure if you know that.”
Nobody ever truly knew you well enough to identify that. But to her, it was obvious.
“I am tired. I'm okay though.” You nodded. Alexia saw right through you.
“No, you're not. Something is wrong. Please, tell me. I want to know and I want you to feel better. If
 if I have done something, I want to fix it.” The blonde said definitively.
What else did you have to lose? You'd already made peace with her being your past, it wasn’t like she could make your future any worse.
“You
 lied to me, Alexia.” You stated quietly, averting your gaze to the scratched wood of the counter in front of you. The shop was silent for a few moments, and you knew all was said and done in terms of this
 whatever it was between you both.
“I did? A-about what?” She asked, a tremor in her voice that did little to calm your racing heartbeat.
“Your job. I saw you on TV last night. You were on TV.” 
All the anxiety you felt at the idea of confrontation tripled when you saw the corner of her mouth twitch the tiniest bit. She found this whole thing funny. 
“I don't want to do thi-”
“I never lied. I really didn't lie.” Another step closer, her waist an inch from the counter. Her hand reached for yours that rested on it, but you pulled it away and moved back a bit. 
It was then that she realised how serious this was for you. 
“I just don't want you to lie to me, ever. About anything. And we'll be fine.”
Refraining from talking about her job, the thing that everyone overlooks her for as a human who wanted normal things, instead of the player that got harassed for signatures that'd be on the market minutes after she put the lid on her pen or the player that was expected to be perfect all the time, had caused all this. In her eyes, it wasn't a lie, but the minute you voiced your hurt, she recognised how it would have come across for you. 
“You did! You can't keep something like that a secret and expect me to be okay with it. How could you do this?” You could never get angry like everyone else could, never feel it normally. You had to let it consume you, to the point of tears. The first of this whole ordeal.
“I said it wasn't important, I never lied to you. I see now it is important, but you never asked me about it and I was relieved about that because everybody sees me as my job and you are the first person outside my family to see me as something more.” She rushed out, taking a deep breath afterwards to try and gain her composure back. It cracked once more when she saw how you tried to hide the fact you had to wipe some tears away, but she remained strong. “Last night, the partit, I know it seemed like a lot. But that is all it is. Just football. And as much as I love it, it was nice to not have to talk about it all day every day with you. You are a normal person, a beautiful and unique person, but
 ugh, I do not know how to word it. I do not want to hurt you with what I say because I can't find the right words.”
Despite her frustrations, you sort of knew what she was saying. Judging by the importance of the game you saw yesterday, you could imagine that she never really got to leave the intensity of that with the people she was surrounded by and the fans that followed. 
You had a normal job, a normal daily routine. From the sounds of it, her life was far from normal. So, despite the current distance between you both, you sort of understood where she was coming from. You just didn't know what to say.
“I can see now that it was wrong to not tell you about something so big in my life. I will tell you everything you want to know. Everything. You can ask so many questions, I will not hide a thing from you.” She looked and sounded desperate for you to forgive her. 
If anyone held a gun to your head in that moment, you couldn't tell them how you felt. As a result of your uncertainty, the silence stretched on and on, only causing more of a gap. With every passing second, Alexia was consumed by dread. 
She should have been more considerate, more aware of how you felt and what you needed from her. Instead, she'd gotten tunnel vision on who she could be around you, rather than who you wanted her to be. That revelation made her sick, because there was no one to blame but her if this was something that couldn't be repaired.
“Do you
 do you want me to go?” The Catalan questioned. 
There was nothing else you thought to do, other than nod.
“Okay.” Alexia said, frowning as she actually processed what she had just said. You saw the gloss in her eyes shine when she turned towards the door, and it tore your heart in two to see her leave.
When the bell rang as the door closed behind her, you knew instantly that you had made a mistake. You were stuck to your spot for a couple seconds, frozen at the decision you decided you loathed. 
Seeing her walk out wasn't right. Asking her to go wasn't right. She belonged in your future, and though the thought terrified you, you had no choice but to push out your comfort zone and do something for yourself for once.
With the force you opened the door with, you wouldn't be surprised if the poor bell above it broke. But she was there, just about to round the corner, her head bowed as she tried to leave as quickly as possible. Until you called her name. She turned on the spot, her face pinched in confusion as tears raced down her cheeks. There were matching ones on your own, though you let them fall freely, considering there were more important things on your mind.
Cautiously, Alexia began heading back towards you, unsure if that's what you wanted her to do. Then she saw the way your hands fidgeted and how nervous you seemed, and she sped up a little. 
She stood before you, her eyes already red, and you floundered for a moment, wondering how on earth you could come back from telling her to go. Instead, you took one of her hands, waiting for her to nod her permission for you to do so, and led her back inside the shop. The bell rang, again, and it echoed off of the walls until the pair of you were left in silence once more.
Your anxiety mirrored hers, both your futures riding on this moment. It was in your hands to decide what happened next.
“I
 panicked.” You started, exhaling sharply afterwards, the truthful words a weight off your chest and making it easier for you to continue. “I got scared, and told myself you betrayed me, as a habit. Which I know you don't want to hear, that's not what anyone wants to hear from someone they're seeing, but it's something I do. Because people do it to me all the time and I'm tired of it. I feel like I was maybe waiting for you to do it, I expected it to happen at some point. Not because of who you are but who I am and what I've been through. So at the first sign of
 whatever, I blew it up and turned it into something that it wasn't. I'm sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Alexia told you when you finished, her free hand taking yours and squeezing them both. “You cannot help being scared of something. And especially if it is something that has happened before. You panicked. You let your mind take you somewhere and got stuck in it, that is normal. It has happened to me before, it happens to everybody. But, look, we are talking about it and we are fixing it. Together. Because I want to be with you, it does not matter to me what habits you have, I want to be here to remind you I still want to be with you. I do want to be with you. Really do.” 
Everything she said then was exactly why you knew it was right to go after her. Why you should have let her in after months of her trying. You wished you trusted her earlier and accepted her advances the first time she asked, but if you did that, you wouldn’t have this moment here, where she was showing exactly who she was.
This woman in front of you, she was more than the footballer you saw on TV, and she was so much more than you first gave her credit for. Getting hurt by her not telling you about that portion of her life was unnecessary, because the person on the screen was endlessly talented and extraordinary, sure, but the person in front of you was who she really was. She had many sides and personas, but none of them were on show around you. No, she was Alexia. She was the woman you loved, the gentle and caring soul you had the privilege of knowing for the past months. She was your future.
“I want to be with you too. I’m scared by that, I think it might take a while for my anxiety to go, if you
 if you’re fine with that.” At that, she smiled. Her soft, forgiving, welcoming smile that drew you in in the first place.
“I am fine with that. I will do anything, tell you anything, to remind you that I will be here and to make those anxieties go quiet. We will go at your speed from here, whatever you want and need. I just want you. Just want to be yours.” For some reason, you found yourself giggling quietly when she finished speaking. And like the first time she heard you laugh, she joined in with you. “What? I mean it.”
“I know. I know you do. I can’t really believe I found someone like you. Everything in the past seems worth it now that
 now that you’re here. And you’re mine.” She frowned, unhappy at one of the things you said.
“It might seem worth it now, but that doesn’t mean you deserved it, cariño.” Her arms wrapped around you, bringing you in gently for a much needed embrace that quelled your worries indefinitely.
“I know. But we don’t need to think about that. I don’t
 want to think about any of that anymore.” You admitted, to which Alexia instantly agreed with.
“We can swap those memories with better ones. Of us.” She chose to say, not wanting to dwell on the past that she didn’t know much about, and honestly thought it was better that she didn’t. To know what you’d been through before her would surely break her heart.
“I can’t wait to make memories with you.” You whispered quietly. She hummed in acknowledgement.
A smile grew on your face, and one grew on hers. Both relieved this miscommunication over, happy to be with each other (finally), and excited for the future together.
—
other fic is still in progress, this is something quick fun and short i had the inspo to write before a very long story comes your way soon!! thanks for reading :)🧡
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nemesyaaa · 21 hours ago
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get in, loser || simp!classmate!rafe x mean!popular!reader
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summary : admiration ? too light. obssession ? not enough. devotion ? perfect treatment.
warnings : +18 content. minors dni. smut. oral. sub!rafe (boy toy). act of devotion. public masturbation. p in v. verbal humiliation. lollipop. facesitting. mean girls. a lot of teasing. fingers sucking. a bit of cum eating. be aware of the warnings before reading. very pink content, i'm sorry.
author's note : i just wanted to write another thing about them...this is highly depraved.
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you never had a boyfriend and you’ve never wanted one because you didn’t know how it would serve you. you already had everything, you didn't need a man by your side to be the center of attention. you were the perfect replica of the mean girls from the cult films of the 2000s. you could just as easily be a Regina George or a Jennifer Check. the world revolved around you, which meant that without you, everything fell apart.
and above all you didn't need a boyfriend because you had a boy toy now. rafe cameron. he was so obedient and docile, well he was especially so because you were a good mistress.
he didn't listen to you because he was afraid of you, but because he would do anything for you. he lived by your rules and your principles.
and today you wanted to have fun. it was the last day of school before the weekend and you were wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, a white tank that allowed him to see the size of your boobs and your perked nipples through the clothing. but above all, you didn't wear a bra so they swayed in slow motion with each of your steps. the way they were slowly bouncing simultaneously pressed together in the fabric while you walked towards him, phone in hand.
you wore a plump gloss which gave volume to your lips, but above all which made your mouth so luscious and shiny.
when you sat next to him, he shifted slightly but mostly stared at you because it wasn't usual. you were always near your girlfriends, you always took care to ignore him in class and even in public. you loved playing with his feelings. as a bitch, you were good at this.
you loved laughing with your girlfriends watching him while knowing he would feel miserable and pathetic because he would never know if it was him you were talking about. you loved getting him hard before going to class just to see him squirm in his chair, and be unable to form two sentences in front of the teacher without stammering. but above all, you loved being cruel, pretending through messages that you were going to touch him, suck him, drive him crazy to finally change your mind in front of him. “oh really? when did i say that? you know, i'm very confused. "
"o-on...by message..."
"are you saying i'm a liar, cameron?" you approached him threateningly, your eyebrows furrowed and your pout upset, forcing him to step back because your heels kicked on the ground was quietly intimidating. “oh you're gonna cry, stupid ? "
he softened himself, thinking that you will be kind to him. his shoulders slumped and he swallowed hard. you slid your mouth next to his ear. “you should, loser. ”
his eyes were in tears as you were playing your favorite game — bully him. sometimes you could be such a whore. but you were also terribly hot and he hated as much as he loved the effect you had on him.
you bust out laughing, before running a hand through his hair to gently pat his head. “I was kidding. don't be mad at me...or let me do something for you..." you pushed his hand into your panties. “do your job. and you better do it well. ”
he shaked his head vividly, as you could feel his fingers making their way to your pussy. he loved being inside you so much, even if it was just his hand. but sometimes you managed to make him so sick because you purposely didn't whine just to make him frustrated. you watched him exhaust himself with a puppy glaze, his completely soaked fingers thrusting in and out, fucking you deep, pooling your own wetness out of your cunt while fingering you. “h-he
lp
” he pleaded, his own saliva running down his chin.
and you stood there with your lips sealed while he moaned against the side of your face because it felt so good. but it was also hard for you to contain all the spasms and pleasure that was coursing through your body. you were forced to control yourself, to not show anything while his fingertips moved back and forth inside your walls, slamming down your canal. his cock was so hard in his pants. it was terribly painful at this point. and you didn't care. all that frustration you inflicted on him, he took it out on the sex doll in his room. all the cum you didn't let him implode was going to be released in this girl's pussy.
today, you sat next to him, placing your bag noisily on his table.
“I thought you didn’t want us to be seen together. " he commented.
" oh don't worry. I told my friends I was doing charity today. " you replied.
class had started and you had a lollipop in your mouth for a few minutes. and you knew very well that Rafe was unable to concentrate on what the teacher was saying when you were sucking that shit so close to him, with your sticky tongue latched on over the candy. you were making discreet but obscene noises. it was a classic cherry lollipop.
his cheeks had heated. you twisted your tongue around the candy, playing with it a little.
your muscle curled around the lollipop like you did so well around his cock, a few dripping licks had been liberally placed while you pretended to concentrate on the lesson.
“get your dick out.“ you ordered. “i want to have fun.”
you didn't need to say it twice before his cock was released, springing free against his thighs. you don't know why you were always so amazed at his size. However, you had already seen it several times. but damn, that was the only thing he could dethrone you on. his heavy cock hung in the air, precum beading at the red tip.
he wore the cock ring that you ordered him to wear. “you're gonna be even bigger, loser. “you encouraged him.
you pushed the lollipop out of your lips to bring it to the glistening tip of his dick. you used the side of the candy to feel the precum wetting the sugar with amusement. you let the substance soak into the candy before letting it run down his erect shaft. you aimed the sweet treat at his penis, tracing the hard veins that ran along his member, while teasing him softly with the edible part of the stick.
you stroked his cock with the lollipop, teasing his entire length. you drove the candy over his hardened cock, watching the blood pressure enlarge his thick veins. the lollipop was so small next to it. when the candy had been completely wet and dripping, between a mixture of cum, sugar and saliva, you had slipped it between Rafe's lips. you pushed it against his tongue, forcing him to gasp over it, before applying pressure to his cheeks with your fingers to watch him swallow.
but you weren't finished, you wanted more. you spat discreetly into your hand before wetting his entire cock. you wanted to please him a little so you gave him this handjob he dreamed of in class. you fisted him up and down, feeling him grow in your grip, while you worked all dick. his balls were hard and heavy, perfectly caged between his legs.
he was trying so badly to hide his urge to moan, his lips were twisted and tense, his teeth buried inside his bottom one. he squirmed in his chair, his tummy twitching hard from the pleasure. you were so good with your hand. while you stroked him, you loved to tighten your fingers around him. it was at this moment that his gasps were more intense and that you started to pump him faster. the speed of your movements let him so weak, as cries rolling down his cheeks.
he was so pretty when he was about to explode. “ is your dick hard for me, or because you're enjoying being a pussy ? ” you murmured right in his ear.
strangely, you let him take your virginity on the same day. after you invited him to your house. and then there was no one at home, no evidence, no traces. no one would know.
“get on the bed. ” you commanded. “ you've got such a pretty face, will you let me sit on it ? i know you will because you will do anything to please me. ”
he obeyed in a second and you undressed. you had taken off all of your clothes before sitting on his face. you had always dreamed of doing this and this was the perfect opportunity.
“now, it's your choice. you can be a good boy that makes me cum with his tongue...or just a good dog that only knows how to lick. show me how you want to be treated. ”
" y-yes...yes..i just want to make you feel good." he just pleaded, before being silenced by the contact of your pussy on his lips.
you were heavy. but in such a good way, he was so turned on by the way you were sitting on him, pressuring the weight of your body on his mouth, making yourself a seat on his face while he was already lapping at your soaked folds, tearing your lips apart with his tongue and starting to licks at your parts. your taste was so sweet, filled with the froth of his saliva. you began to rub yourself, pushing your cunt deeper inside his mouth to muffle his pathetic wimps. his voice was so needy.
as you were fucking his whole face, your asscheeks was brushing his nose, making him even more horny. his dick was thick, literally twitching over his flat tummy. the hard lines of his muscles were swollen.
you couldn't help but moan, but you wouldn't dare saying his name. he was lapping with such devotion, feeding your greedy cunt with needy and fat laps. his tongue was inside you, ruining your walls with appetite. he was drooling at the corner of his mouth, and on the underside of your butt.
it was as if his tongue only belonged inside you. you tried to stay in control even though you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. “It feels so good..." you had escaped, holding your breasts in the palm of your hands.
you gripped the sheets when he started to get wilder in the thrusts of his tongue. your body moved in sync. as he was below you, you took the opportunity to move your ass above him, lightly slapping his face with the jiggles of your cheeks. oh god, he was so pathetic, completely hard being crushed under your weight, having his face below your soaked pussy, being covered in your wetness and drool, having his cock painfully hard and leaking, because his mouth was fucked. you could feel his heavy breath coating the heat of your core.
he had cum all over his own stomach, and you rolled your eyes. it wasn't the first time he came without warning, it was so compulsive for him. he couldn't control it.
you lay down next to him before collecting the cum on his tummy, teasing the sticky white steam with your fingers before plunging them inside your pussy. you filled yourself with his releasing, your two eyes on him, white loads leaking at your entrance. “ are you gonna Fuck me or do I need to make all the job by myself ? ”
“ i-i
”
“ such a pathetic boy, can't even speak properly with his mouth. ”
you spread your legs, and he came closer. he was so needy that he was nervous. his hands were shaking, barely able to hold his throbbing cock. you had to wait a few minutes before he slipped inside you. he whimpered all his way to your walls at the comfort of your pussy around him.
because he couldn't wait any longer, he conducted several forceful thrusts into the deep of your core. he could see his own cum floating with your wetness at the outline of your swollen cunt. his cries was loud as he pounded into you deeper, making sure he strikes your spot everytime. he was sweating, a drop of sweats watering from his torso. your legs was locked againt his arms as he was fucking you like he ever dreamed of.
his breathing was running shorter and shorter as the heat was stronger. he sunk every inch of his dick in your hole.
he never fucked a girl and he didn't know if he was doing good but his head was empty. all his neurons were dead and it was all about sex and pleasure. and you were nothing better, all dumb by his fat cock, his merciless length feeding your insides. his face was hidden in your neck, his lips salivating on your flesh. " i-i-m...cu..a-aah..plea.se
"
it wasn't already more than ten minutes but he couldn't help. he could cum literally every five minutes inside you, because of his urges, because of the way you make him feel. you were stuffed hard, all his shaft buried in your canal. every hard back and forth left his dick all red and sticky while he was leaving beads of cum on your slit. “ that's a good boy. ” you praised, biting your lower lips. “ but now, are you gonna make me cum ? ”
you wrapped a hand around his throat while he was on top of you. you let him fuck you and abuse your cervix. when he felt your fingers around his neck, it completely turned him on. and all his thrusts had become even more intense as he was increasing the pace. your stomach was spiraling, and his eyes were glued to that.
“h-harder..please..." he was begging at you from more pressure.
"such a freak..." you replied, before wrapping his neck tighter.
your grip was now tight around his throat, his eyes rolled back as he was still fucking you raw, all your pussy milking him. you were draining him. the blue of his gaze was perfect, shiny in the light of the room because of tears. he exploded again and again until his dick start to play difficult to fuck you another round.
he was so handsome.
it wasn't your habit but you kept him in your arms. you felt the need to be nice to him after all his efforts. he was still sweltering and sweating, his body decorated with cute red marks, and you couldn't help but smile.
“hey, you did so good for me. i'm proud, very proud. ” you gently said.
your compliments had given him chills. and his tears had again welled up in his eyes.
“please, cameron.stop being a crybaby. ” you sighed with an annoying tone. “god instead of cries, i should hear how grateful you are to let you fuck me. ”
“thanks...y-you...”
“if your friends saw you like that..." you scoffed. "and if they saw you like that..." you whispered against his ear. "I can already hear the gossip...oh and your father, what would he think of you?"
you felt him shiver under your touch. “that's why you need to be kind with me, rafe. but you're a good boy, aren't you? say it, say it to me. "
“I'm...your good boy. ” he cried out with a gasp, shaking tears on his cheeks.
“ look at yourself, not only are you a good boy, rafe cameron but you're also such a pathetic thing. this is why i need to make you mine. all mine.”
you stood up to take a red marker and marked on his back with permanent ink. “ y/n’s private property. "
“now, i wish you luck in hiding that you belong to me. “
he grimaced. “ do you understand what it means ? you have my name on your fucking back. and you will have such a hard time removing it. you wanted to be obsessed with me ? fine, because now i leave you no choice than being devoted to me. you wake up, it's me. every time you jerk off, it's me. everything you think, it's me. everytime you breathe, it's me. i want everyone on that fucking island to know which pussy make you so dumb and pathetic. is it clear ? ” your hands were gripping around his throat as you spoke.
he nodded his head like a good sub.
“ words. ”
“ yes
i just
i just want you. ” he sobbed, your hands around his neck making it difficult for him to answer properly.
“ so what are you thinking right now ?”
“ you. ” he replied with such a pretty feverish tone.
“ good answer, little boy. ” you praised, while giving him a little pat on the cheeks. “ now, who do you like ? ”
“ you. it's you. ” he repeated.
“ do you want me ? ”
“ i want you. ” he confessed, moving into the space of your spreaded legs. his head was now on your lap, while you stroked his hair gently. “ i need you
” he continued.
“ of course, you need me. i'm the only one to care about you. ” when you rubbed his bottom lip, feeling the sweet wetness of his drool against your thumb, he let out a soft moan before opening his mouth, allowing you to brush fingers in his tongue.
his gaze was precious, a bit teary as his whole mouth was starting to suck your fingertips. his lips were moving faster around your fingers, taking them to the back of his warm tongue. you loved to watch your digits disappear on the side of his muscle, the sucking sounds filling the room as you could feel him grow again in his pants. he was whining at the feeling of pleasure, keeping your fingers in his mouth.
“ mmh
stay like that. i want to take some pictures
” you said in your casual mean girl tone. “ you know, baby
for sleepovers with my girlfriends , we really need something to make fun of and nothing makes us laugh more than pathetic men. ”
your gaze went down his thighs. “ oh god, i'm gonna take such beautiful pictures
please, continue to make your dick leak. soak yourself, show them how pretty you are. i want them to be jealous of what we have. ”
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fel-09 · 2 days ago
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Emperor Geta x reader
Words:2.400+
2Part
Second life
The air was filled with a sweet haze of wine, grapes, and incense. The room felt suffocating despite its vastness and marble columns stretching to the vaulted ceiling, where warm light reflected faintly. The Empress stood near one of the columns, her silhouette lost in the dim light. She seemed out of place in this grandeur, invisible to those who laughed and indulged themselves in pleasure.
At the center of attention, as always, was him. Geta. Her husband, the Emperor of Rome, and the man who had completely stripped her of her significance. Reclining on a lavishly adorned couch, he leaned back, allowing his concubines to feed him grapes and share jokes. The delicate fingers of one woman traced his shoulders, while another gently combed his hair. He smiled. This scene was far too ordinary, far too familiar.
She didn’t move. She only watched, clenching her hands behind her back to hide their trembling. Long ago, at the beginning of their marriage, her presence at least unsettled him somewhat. Back then, she could say something, and he might respond with a condescending remark or even a smile. But not anymore.
"Did you want something?" His lazy voice reached her at last when he finally noticed her.
She flinched slightly but quickly composed herself. Once, that gaze would have compelled her to justify herself, to apologize, but now
 she remained silent. Instead of responding, she turned away and left the hall, leaving him with a faint smirk on his face.
Something broke inside her chest, but it wasn’t pain. It was a strange mix of bitterness and indifference. Everything she had felt, everything she had endured by his side, had now lost its meaning. He had taken everything from her—her rights, her freedom, her respect. Even her death, as it turned out, had not piqued his interest.
When she had died, poisoned on the orders of one of his favorites, her final thoughts had been a plea for forgiveness. Forgiveness for allowing him to trample on her pride for so long. But now, standing here alive, as if fate itself had given her a second chance, she knew she would not waste it.
Day by day, she began to act. It wasn’t an overt rebellion or loud proclamations. Her resistance started with small, unnoticed actions. She observed, listened, and waited.
The first change she made was in the imperial council. Previously, Geta’s concubines were allowed to attend, having been delegated much of the Emperor’s responsibilities. Her opinions were never sought; her words held no weight. But now, she took her place.
When one of his favorites, the young and arrogant Aurelia, rose to speak, the Empress calmly raised her hand, cutting her off.
“I don’t recall an advisor of Rome wearing silk robes and emerald necklaces,” her voice was soft but firm. “Sit down.”
A tense silence fell over the hall. The council members, accustomed to her silence, exchanged glances. Aurelia paled but tried to maintain her composure.
“Geta permitted me
”
“Perhaps His Highness is too busy to remember how the council operates. But I do,” her voice didn’t rise, but there was an edge of warning in it. “Sit.”
"all the more so, you are a mistress and should know that in public he is an emperor for you"
Aurelia slowly sank back into her seat, her face burning with embarrassment. The Empress didn’t look at her again, focusing instead on discussing pressing matters.
This small victory did not go unnoticed.
Later that same evening the emperor began to scold for behavior that was supposedly not right , in public, Geta hit the steel with his hand, looked at her sullenly and shouted through his teeth
"The fact that you are an empress does not give you the right to such behavior You insult my people, you insult me!."
She raised an eyebrow at his words as y snorted and laughed, covering mouth with her hand.To which he raised his eyebrows in surprise, although anger was still boiling inside him.
"Oh please... mistress... advice? Isn't there anyone more absurd in this situation?"
The emperor looked at her in surprise, word after word she did not stop arguing until she were separated from each other, it was strange for Geta, for the first time she fought back...
Weeks passed, and the changes became apparent. Her status in the palace was no longer nominal. She reclaimed everything that was hers. But most importantly, she reclaimed herself.
At the gladiatorial games, which she had been obliged to attend since the beginning of their marriage, she no longer averted her gaze. Once, the scenes of violence and death would make her tremble. She would hide her eyes, turn away, while the crowd roared in delight. But not anymore.
She sat upright, her posture impeccable, her expression calm and detached. When one of the gladiators fell, clinging desperately to life, she watched him as if she were a judge, dispassionately assessing his struggle, a silent question lingering in the air: Was this worth it for you?
Geta laughed loudly, watching the spectacle with his brother. A servant placed wine on the table before him, and as he turned, he noticed her. For a moment, his gaze lingered longer on her than on the battle itself. In his eyes was a mix of curiosity and irritation.
“You’re no longer afraid? Strange
 even refreshing coming from you,” he asked, drawing her attention.
She turned, her gaze cold and almost disdainful.
“It just seems meaningless to me now. And I’ve grown used to the spectacle.”
His eyebrows raised slightly. This tone was uncharacteristic of her. Her words were direct, almost provocative.
“Hm... Still as boring as ever,” he said, looking at her dismissively, as if he wasn’t interested in the first place.
She turned away, as though he wasn’t worth her response.
The more she changed, the more it unsettled him, though he didn’t want to admit it. Her newfound coldness both drew him in and frightened him. He was used to her looking up at him with reverence or fear. To him, it had always been natural, the way things should be. But now, her gaze was indifferent.
They sat in the same room one evening, but she spoke only to Caracalla. She didn’t look at him, not even once. His younger brother deserved more of her attention than he did
 her husband. Their conversation was lively, but he decided to ruin this little idyll.
“Do you think I don’t see what you’re doing?” His voice was tense, laced with threat.
She stopped, slowly turning her head toward him.
“And what exactly am I doing, Your Highness?” Her words made his teeth clench. She hadn’t called him “my Emperor” for days now. He didn’t know why he had become fixated on this, but he had.
“Your behavior. Do you think I’ll just let you do whatever you want?” He stepped closer, his voice lowered as he leaned in, the scent of her skin hitting his senses and nearly making him lose control.
His brother watched with a smirk, leaning back on the couch as though enjoying the unfolding scene. “Oh, come on, brother. Our sister-in-law is simply in a mood, and you’re ruining it,” Caracalla teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The gesture made Geta’s brow furrow in anger.
“I would still like to clarify the situation,” the Emperor grumbled, his hands tightening on the couch she sat on.
At last, the Empress looked at him directly for the first time in days. She met his gaze, not looking away.
“If I’m doing something unbefitting of my status, if i do let me know, Your Highness,” she said with a defiant smile, knowing she wouldn’t face any consequences. And she was absolutely right.
He fell silent, his lips twitching slightly, unable to find the words.
Now their conversations were rare. She no longer sought his attention or tried to be noticed. Instead, she focused on reclaiming her place in the world.
When he saw her in the palace gardens, she was sitting on a marble bench surrounded by advisors. She laughed—not out of politeness, but genuinely. Her eyes sparkled, and her voice brimmed with confidence.
Geta stopped for a moment, watching her from the shadows. This woman was no longer the timid girl he had married for political gain. She was
 something greater.
And it irritated him. Her laughter, her smile, her demeanor—everything irritated him.
He began to search for her throughout the palace, hoping she might once again desire his presence, a small conversation, a glance—anything. But each time, she dismissed his attempts, even when he tried to manipulate her by saying, “We need heirs.” She didn’t even flinch.
But one day, they met in a corridor, and the conversation started poorly from the very beginning.
“Do you think you can ignore me? You’re my Empress, my wife
 mine, do you understand? And your behavior is nothing more than childish defiance!” he said, intercepting her in the hall. He was visibly displeased—displeased with her actions, which cast a shadow on his status. He loved power, loved everything about it, but she had become dangerous to him
 and yet, all the more desirable.
She looked at him without any interest in his words. Once, she would have hung on every word he spoke
 but now, it all seemed like the meaningless ramblings of a madman rather than the speech of a man.
“It’s too late, Your Highness,” she replied before walking away.
Her words hurt more than he wanted to admit. He stood alone, surrounded by concubines who no longer seemed desirable to him.
Now he understood he had lost her completely. Each step she took away from him, without looking back, was like a blow to his heart.
________
Sorry for the mistakes in the text, I just want to sleep and I don’t understand what I wrote.
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avelera · 1 day ago
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I'm wondering what you think about how much Viktor knew about his disease and his limited life expectancy before that scene in the hospital?
Because Viktor draws that conclusion before Jayce even says anything. Jayce is clearly very upset about whatever the doctor says, but he never spells out that it's terminal, and Viktor immediately concludes that, so that might make it seem like he already suspected beforehand.
On one hand, he is obviously hiding his symptoms from Jayce, and at this point he might either be in denial, or already suspecting it. I do get the sense his disease is common in the undercity and always fatal, the documents Caitlyn goes through about the grey show pictures of lungs which imply a lung disease the grey causes, which I think is the same disease Viktor has. It wouldn't be a leap for him to conclude that coughing up blood means he has this disease and will probably die.
On the other hand, he does get increasingly desperate to save his own life after he gets the diagnosis, and even has that talk with Heimerdinger about his legacy, which does kind of imply that the truth hadn't truly settled in before then or it was really the first time he found out. Though in regards to the hexcore, he really stumbled into its potential healing properties by accident and it makes sense he'd fall into that obsession when he first gets a sliver of hope
I do agree if Viktor suspected, he wouldn't tell Jayce. He's already quite ashamed of all his medical issues, and Jayce's comment about his disappearing is probably about that.
Anyway, curious what your thoughts are
Oh, I have a VERY specific headcanon that's going to make an appearance the Distinguished Innovators sequel that I'm actively working on but I'm happy to spell it out here too.
Ok, so, I don't think it's possible for Viktor to have fully hidden his degenerative illness from Jayce. Jayce is too loving and attentive and the illness progression over the course of the time skip between 1.03 and 1.04 is too dire for even the most oblivious person to miss.
And no, I don't buy the "cooking a frog" excuse that Jayce would miss it because the progression is gradual. It's not gradual. It's extreme. Viktor goes from a cane he can occasionally set aside to a crutch, leg brace, back brace, dark circles under his eyes, sunken skin, a hunched posture and regular coughing fits that sometimes spit up blood. I mean look at this:
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You simply cannot tell me that Jayce hasn't been aware of this progression.
Not to mention, that when Viktor coughs up blood at the Hexgates, he does not hide the blood from Jayce and Jayce does not react to the blood! That means Jayce has known that Viktor's coughing fits regularly bring up blood at this point.
But what did Jayce believe up to this point? I want to explore that and offer my own rather exhaustive headcanon:
So, there is simply no way in my mind that Jayce could be kept in the dark about the fact that Viktor has his leg and another health issue bearing down on him and sapping his strength.
However, I do believe that Viktor knows that he has a degenerative illness that will likely end his life within the next few years and that he has lied to or obfuscated from Jayce just how dire his prognosis is.
I think Jayce expected Viktor to have decades left while Viktor hoped to have a few more good years left, and both were shocked and pained to learn it might be months. However, Jayce in particular seems completely blindsided, which is why I suspect Viktor allowed him to continue to believe he had decades to live when Viktor knew he did not.
I think Viktor would have rather died on that floor than let Jayce know he's dying.
I also think both Viktor and Jayce held out hope that Hextech would lead to a miracle cure for Viktor, but both knew it would take years to achieve. After all, most of their active innovations were around industry, transportation, mining, etc. It makes sense given the spell they had to work from was a weightlessness and teleportation spell Jayce saw the Mage do. Biology and healing was probably possible, and on their radar, Hextech is magic after all, but I truly believe they thought it was going to take years of innovation and a lot of leaps, not to mention luck, before they'd stumble upon runes that would let them pivot to healing. It's not a natural progression based on what they know of magic.
This is part of why I think Jayce believed Viktor still had decades left. Because I think, if Jayce knew it was only a few years, he would have tossed everything out to just work on healing Viktor with Hextech.
And this is where I'm going to make the full leap to headcanon territory. I don't think this is canonical to the text, it's just my interpretation of the text that I use for fic writing. H'ok, let's go:
I think Viktor knew specifically what fissure illness he had and he knew most people who have it do not live past 30. I think he's known most of his life. I think that's why he's so driven to achieve everything he can while young.
Hence Viktor's, "Don't ask permission," attitude. He's always known he's got about ~30 years to live and he's going to make the most of it, hence his meteoric rise, but also why he's willing to take a dramatic lateral leap to be Jayce's partner at the first sight of a potentially world-changing innovation to work on with his remaining years. He's less worried about losing what he's achieved than he is about missing out on the next great scientific leap, possibly because he knows he's only got a few years left anyway.
I think Viktor (and possibly his parents!) believed that if he moved to Piltover where the air was cleaner, he'd have longer to live. This adds to his parents' motivation to make the desperate, possibly criminal move to sneak Viktor into the Academy.
I think getting to Piltover made Viktor relatively optimistic about his prognosis. With better air, nutrition, and sunlight access, he might have a chance to beat the "Dead by 30" inevitability of his disease. And to some extent, he did! He's about 32 when he collapses in Arcane S1 but still, it's not as much time as he or anyone in his position might have hoped for. This explains his weary resignation to the fact he doesn't have much time left. He's known this is coming for a while.
I also think, and this is pure headcanon, that coughing blood signals the beginning of the end for this particular disease. That's why pre-time skip Viktor is motivated but not desperate yet. He's not coughing blood yet. He still has time. But once he starts coughing blood, post-time skip, he goes from motivated to desperate. I think coughing blood means you've only got a few months to maybe a few years left, and Viktor knows this.
I think Viktor knew his prognosis meant "Dead by 30" but he only told this vaguely to Jayce. Like "Yes, this cough is a symptom of a disease that will shorten my lifespan, but we still have time for a Hextech miracle if we work hard."
Jayce, coming from a background of relative privilege compared to the undercity, took "a shorter lifespan" to mean Viktor would live to like... 60 instead of 80. Plenty of time to find a way to pivot Hextech to healing if they crank it and push everything they have into accelerating the use, application, and innovation of Hextech as quickly as possible. The more resources they have, the more widely Hextech is adopted, the better the chance they'll have the time, assistance, resources, and frankly the power to stumble into something that will cure Viktor in the next few decades.
Viktor is more of a realistic about the progression of science. Note his, "It's a leap," about Jinx's potential to crack Hextech. Jayce believes in miracles because he was rescued by one. But I think Viktor knows intrinsically that it would take a very unlikely miracle to pivot from industry to healing uses of Hextech. He humors Jayce, and he's optimistic, but more than he wants to waste time looking for an impossible cure, he wants to leave a legacy and help others while he's alive, rather than chasing the rabbit of a healing application just for himself that they are realistically decades away from.
I think one reason Viktor didn't tell Jayce how short his prognosis ir OR how unrealistic it is for them to pivot Hextech to healing with what they have is that he didn't want Jayce to waste time on healing him with nothing to show for it when they inevitably failed. Even if they did nothing but try to apply Hextech to curing him, they probably wouldn't have time to beat his Dead by 30 prognosis (as of age ~26 when they partnered up) and Viktor wanted to contribute to problems they could actually solve in his lifetime instead of chasing a fairytale.
The Hexcore changes everything there, of course. It embodies the miraculous leap they'd need to skip over decades of incremental innovation in Hextech and it's what causes the pivot in Viktor's motivations from help the undercity to "help the undercity (but actually I just want to help myself and I'm actually such a good and selfless person I can't even admit this very human desire to live even to myself)"
Just to circle back briefly, I think learning Viktor's prognosis was a horrible shock for Jayce. Like I said, he really believed he had more time with Viktor. All his actions point to this. Yes he knew the Council was a bit of a distraction, but it was serving their overarching goal of pushing Hextech as quickly and as far as possible to cure Viktor in the next decade or so. He would never have stolen months away from working beside Viktor if he didn't think Viktor had many years more to live, even with his illness as it was.
Ok, I think that about covers it! If you do want to read the fic where I'm going to include all this, you should subscribe to this series.
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sunny-knight · 2 days ago
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Dear My Dear -
an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow
At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now

*now what?
Its lore time. omg theres so much-
The way ill organize this
lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.
THE BIGGER PICTURE
This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.
I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.
Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.
ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost
WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.
(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)
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my dear wingdings,)
Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.
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you never came back, and now
after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)
Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-
Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!
(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)
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i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings
.oh ‘dings
)
the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans
The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.
Or if Wingdings just became him.
A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.
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i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)
2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.
The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things
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but i cannot live like that.)
Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.
Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!
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and it seems you cannot live any other way.)
another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live
 at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.
I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”
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when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)
When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.
As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not
 maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.
But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!
He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**
Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.
Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”
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i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.
Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.
The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.
Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.
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theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)
Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!
Gaster just isnt trying
“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego
I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.
Thats the good man within him
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you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)
the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.
The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.
Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later
Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-
Its not that deep
but still-
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i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but
 because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)
CALL BACK!!!!!!
Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.
As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.
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i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)
GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!
Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.
cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out
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and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.
- your brother
As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!
Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.
Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but
 He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly
but
he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.
the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.
FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!
weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day
also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!
Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.
un-unless you
got shattered across time and space
. then you’re-
well I mean that-
.. hm

does that
? hmm, well
.
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thepixelelf · 3 days ago
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warnings: domestic animals. tags: established relationship. christmas stuff. wc: 869
this has been in my drafts since dec 2023 and I realized it was collecting dust so I wanted to just roll up my sleeves and finish it so... here you go!
[a little thing called bad timing] Everyone knows that Seungcheol is a dog person -- you most of all. There's not a day that goes by without him turning his phone to face you with Kkuma's adorableness on the screen, sent to him by his parents. Of course, you love those pictures. Kkuma is an angel, and if you were the jealous type, you'd probably be wary of just how much Seungcheol pampers her, but luckily, you're not. In fact, you absolutely understand his behaviour. Before your family's cat passed away when you were younger, you're pretty sure you took about a million pictures of her just... existing.
That said, when Seungcheol not-so-subtly hinted that he wanted a dog last Christmas, you had to let him down easy. Your apartment at the time wasn't pet friendly, and you honestly weren't in a place financially to support a puppy with the love and attention one would deserve. Seungcheol's pout back then almost broke your heart, but he knew you were right, especially when you said you couldn't afford a cat, either, even if you wanted one.
This year, though, you moved to a new building together -- where pet allowance wasn't a choosing factor, but an added bonus -- with much more space in your apartment. And earlier this fall, you got the promotion you've been gunning for since you got your new job.
Which leads you to now. Everyone knows Seungcheol is a dog person. Everyone also knows you're a cat person. But the adorable black and white puppy in your arms has completely won you over with its yips and jumps, the way it climbs straight into your lap when you sit down, and its adorably glimmering eyes. A friend of a friend's dog had puppies, and when they asked if you knew anyone interested, you thought of your own glimmery-eyed partner. It was about time.
There are still quite a few days until Christmas, but you're sure that if Seungcheol had a choice, he'd want to meet this precious pup sooner than later. You were lucky that Seungcheol told you he had to stay later at work today, meaning you could pick up the puppy from your friend and acclimatize her to your apartment before he comes home. You've been spending the time decorating, as well, and you consider the tinsel in your hand for a second.
"Hey girl," you say, crouching down and scratching your new puppy's head. "How do you feel about wearing a little gift-wrap bow?"
She doesn't answer, of course, because she's a dog, but you chuckle at the adorable tilt of her head anyway.
"Yeah, I agree. Too cheesy."
The familiar sound of the front door getting unlocked makes you lift your head. "Oh, he's here." You lift your finger to your lips in a shush even though the puppy obviously has no idea what that means, and you scoop her into your arms.
From where you're standing in the kitchen area, the front door is just around a corner and out of sight. One more time, you give the puppy a conspiratorial grin before peeking just your head around the corner.
"Welcome home--"
"Hey, I'm back--"
Your jaw drops as you take in your boyfriend, or rather, the crate he's poorly hiding behind his legs, and the giant, shiny red bow stuck to the top of it.
Seungcheol smiles the way he always does when he comes home and sees you. "What are you doing hiding back there? C'mere, I got something for you."
You don't budge. "Is that...?"
Understanding that you aren't coming closer, Seungcheol just chuckles and brings the crate out in front of him. The front grate reveals a fluffy, orange kitten behind it.
You gasp. "You didn't!"
He shrugs. "I thought, since you've been missing your childhood cat recently, and we got this new apartment..."
"Cheol, I..."
"Did I read it wrong?" Seungcheol's eyes shine with worry and doubt. When you can't find the words to explain yourself, he continues. "I'm sorry. I should've asked, I know. Minghao knew somebody looking for homes for kittens and I just thought about how much you like Wonwoo's cats and--"
The puppy in your arms has finally had enough of hiding, and she barks, hopping to the ground. She trots over to Seungcheol to thoroughly investigate the shoes he's yet to take off.
"Oh," he says simply, eyes wide at the surprise house guest. "Oh!" Carefully, he sets the crate on the bench you have next to the door, out of reach of the excited puppy. He crouches down and pets her with both hands. "Hello," he coos. "Aren't you precious?"
Your heart warms at the sight, especially when the kitten curiously paws at the door of the crate instead of cowering away at the sound of a dog.
Seungcheol looks up at you, delighted. "Who's this?"
Just like he did when you asked him about the kitten, you shrug. "Merry Christmas?"
He must've suspected as much. His smile widens as he stands, and he holds his arm out for you to come to his side. You wrap your arms around him and giggle when he presses a hundred kisses to your cheek, while the puppy bounces in excitement at your feet.
"Seungcheoool," you whine, though to say you don't like his attention would be a total lie.
His smile widens until his eyes become your favourite crescent moons, and he locks his hands together behind you. "You know," he teases with a playful tilt of his head. "I've always dreamed of having twins."
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keferon · 3 days ago
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Mecha headquarters is attacked. The building collapses. Blurr goes in and doesn't come back out. And Swindle's the one that's got to deal with the fallout. As far as nightmare scenarios go, this is pretty high up on Swindle's list.
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Swindle only pulls his phone out of his pocket when he reaches the shadows off to the side of where rescue crews are digging through the rubble of mecha headquarters.  Digging they only started because Blurr, the face of mecha, went into that building and didn't come out.  Digging they are only continuing because they believe they've found signs of life buried in the rock.  Which is why Swindle's phone has been buzzing nonstop for the past several minutes.
He looks at the names next to the missed calls.  Shockwave.  Shockwave again.  Pharma.  Unknown number. (Shockwave?)
.  The list goes on.
Swindle doesn't know how Shockwave or Pharma knows already, but they must.  Swindle's first call since Blurr disappeared under that ton of rubble had been to emergency services.  Every call since has been to call in favors, pull strings – exert as much influence as he can to keep the details of what's going on out of the news.  To keep the potential damage this could do to a minimum.
Somehow, it hasn't been enough.  Which means this situation is fast heading towards something more than what Swindle can handle on his own.
Swindle pulls a second phone from his pocket and hits the number on speed dial.
"Hello?" A voice answers within one ring of Swindle dialing.  Onslaught.  He relaxes slightly.
"You watching the news?"  Swindle skips over customary greetings, security measures – there's no time for them now.  He knows it is Onslaught on the other end of the line.  Onslaught will recognize it is him by his voice.  That much, they still have to be able to trust.
What exactly will be on the news, Swindle doesn't know.  But, it's a safe bet that at least some of the basics of the mecha attack will be broadcast.  Beyond that, it all depends on how much Swindle's contacts came through.
"Yeah.  Mecha was attacked.  They're saying no casualties, so why are you calling me?"  Onslaught asks.
"That's all they're saying?" Swindle asks in return. "No casualties?"
"That's all.  No casualties," Onslaught confirms.  "Showed some footage of the fighting.  Pretty standard stuff.  Cut in some impressive footage of Blurr's mech.  What's going on? Not that I'm not glad to hear personal confirmation you're not dead, but this line is for emergencies."
"There is one.  Shockwave."  Swindle says the name as though there's no further justification needed for why he's calling on this line.  And really, there isn't.  They had agreed to that from the start of this venture.  "He's been calling me.  Non-stop."
Swindle thinks he hears a soft curse on the other end of the line then, "Why would he care?  What's his interest?"
"Blurr," Swindle says.  "That footage, of his mech – was the actual fight.  A fight he never should have been in.  But he did it anyways because there was no other option.  He went into the building and he never came out.  He's the reason they're still here digging – the reason I'm still here."
"And the reason Shockwave's calling," Onslaught fills in.
"Yes.  Him.  And Pharma." Swindle adds.
"Pharma is a medic, you know.  With ratchet going more or less of the grid and First Aid and Ambulon tied up with Vortex he's the highest ranked medic in mecha.  It would be his job to supervise pilot injuries."  Swindle can tell even over the line that Onslaught doesn't really believe his own words.  But they need to make sure they've covered everything if they're going to stay ahead of this.
"He shouldn't know though.  I called in favors to delay the news of Blurr's status until after excavation is complete and you said yourself the news only confirmed no casualties yet," Swindle points out. "I've sent no internal communications.  Pharma shouldn't know yet.  He's too close to Shockwave.  Neither of them should know.  But they've both been calling since the collapse – within minutes of each other."
Swindle definitely hears Onslaught swear at that.  "I don't know exactly what the connection is between Shockwave and Pharma – but I don't want Pharma – or Shockwave – anywhere near this, anywhere near Blurr," he finishes.
"Blurr's alive?"  The question is stated matter-of-factly, though Swindle wouldn't have blamed Onslaught for expressing a note of skepticism.  If the man is still alive, there's no way he's walking away from this without serious injuries.  Swindle would bet every dollar in his accounts on it.
"Possibly.  There are signs of life under the rubble.  We paid Blurr to be the part of a hero for the media.  Turns out when it mattered it wasn't entirely an act.  He saved a lot of lives today – including mine."  If Blurr is pulled from that rubble alive, Swindle will give every dollar it takes from his bank account to ensure it stays that way.  They need Blurr.  More than he knows.
"I never told Blurr the truth behind why it was so important that mecha hire him," Swindle's voice drops as he says the words.
"I am not repaying what he did today by letting him find out firsthand whatever it is Shockwave does in those labs of his.  We're not going to sit back and watch the creation of another Vortex.  It was bad enough when we didn't know.  Now
. Right now, I need you to distract Shockwave and Pharma."
"How long do you need?" As Swindle had at the beginning of their call, Onslaught skips the unnecessary validation and asks the question that gets at the point.  It has Swindle breathing a sigh of relief.
"A few hours, minimum.  But I'll take anything you can give me, just stall them as long as you can.  I've got to go."  Swindle hangs up without waiting for Onslaught's reply.  A stretcher is being carried out of the ruins towards a waiting helicopter.
Swindle manages to make it onboard just before take-off.  He rides all the way to the hospital with Blurr.  Handles all the forms.  Tells the receptionists to put the bills on his card.  He knows (hopes) Blurr could do it when the time came (the man certain has the money; Swindle's been writing his checks) – but he shouldn't have to.  All Blurr should have to focus on is his recovery, and what comes next.  Blurr should have friends, family, a partner – someone to support him in this. 
Swindle knows – has known since early on in working with Blurr – that that is not the case.  He's observed enough to see that Blurr asks for help if he truly needs it, but no one just offers it to him.  Because no one knows to.  In this case, Blurr cannot ask, so Swindle manages instead.
In an ideal world, someone would stay by Blurr's hospital bed, simply so the man didn't have to wake up alone in unfamiliar surroundings with no explanations.  But this is not an ideal world.  And Swindle is not that person.  His time runs out long before then. 
Fresh blood has been spilled.  The predators are circling.  Swindle has a show to put on.  The best he can do is leave his card on the bedside table as a reminder and hope Blurr actually calls if he needs anything. 
I. LOVE THIS. SO FUCKING MUCH YOU CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE
Absolutely in love with this conspiracy thing Onslaught and Swindle have going on. Because YES. OF COURSE. Gosh this is why I love Combaticons. They’re on their own side. Whatever system they are forced to be part of - it doesn’t have full control on them. They’re doing their own thing ehehehehhehe
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thinking-emoji · 1 day ago
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SOOOOOO how did we do huh
tumblr presence? CHECK HELLO LOOK WHO TAGS PHAN NOW ✅
twitter vs tumblr feud? honestly i stopped paying attention to that. couldn't tell you if this ever happened or not, probably not though
dnpg poll/dragon city? i mean we kinda got both (golden pig election fraud hellooooo! dragon city spons winning the entire channel hellooooo!) but not simultaneously. i'm giving myself two half wins for this which adds up to one full win ✅
the next one is redacted for tit spoiler reasons. well fuck that in itself is a spoiler isn't it. well i'm ticking it off and tagging this post, idc it's a literal tier (also hello joint shitties theory!) ✅
we did not get a dating app sponsorship. yet ❌
ok he can't catch a break with his health can he, the poor guy. i didn't see anyone armchair diagnosing him with alexandrias genesis or whatever the purple eye thing was called so ❌
there were no breakup rumours which really just tells me that *I* forgot to perpetuate them. sophia do better next year, the bingo card doesn't complete itself ❌
there was no 4 month break but iirc there WAS a two week dry spell in summer when they were busy staying alive, and honestly i'm giving myself half a point for that
WAD was released for streaming but i don't remember if we found out worse things about youtube than we already knew so ❌
PHIL DID CHANGE HIS HAIR HELLO PHLONDE WELCOME TO THE WORLD WE LOVE YOU IN ALL YOUR SEASONAL VARIATIONS ✅
Mexic- oh boy. oh god oh no what did i manifest with this. latam phannies i am so sorry but also reading this back is unfortunately very funny to me (half a point)
ICELAND OH BOY OH NO WHAT DID I MANIFEST LATAM PHANNIES I AM SO SORRY (iceland has not happened in 2024 so i'm not giving myself the point for this but i'm not getting out the red crossmark either)
no christmas tree delivery guy so this one is a strong ❌
Conclusion: 5 out of 13 and honestly that's way more than what I was hoping for lmao
I'm seeing your 2024 predictions and they're so fun, I wanted to join in! Here's what I absolutely believe will happen in 2024:
- Both Dan and Phil expand their presence here on Tumblr. Tumblr phannies panic.
- Twitter phannies cancel dnp for being on Tumblr. After all, people on Tumblr are all problematic!
- Dnp let us decide via a poll which game should become a series on dnpg. Dragon City wins unexpectedly.
- Tier list video on dnpg: Ranking Phan Conspiracy Theories! It turns out that the theories are mostly post-hiatus, and we do not recognise the majority of them.
- Dating app sponsorship with similar levels of credibility as the old tinder sponsorships, just gay this time
- Phil posts about another medical experience and gets armchair diagnosed by phannies with some rare disease. Further research shows that this "disease" does not actually exist in the medical literature.
- Cornelia/Martyn break up rumours
- They take a 4 month summer break and we lose our fucking minds
- WAD is released for streaming. Shortly after, the streaming platform it's released on is exposed to have very unfortunate political affiliations.
- Phil changes his hair again. And again. And again! He's discovered that he can change his hair after all these years with the fringe. Now he's unstoppable!
- Dan announces a live show - in Mexico City! In order to, his words, "make up for the II clusterfuck". At last minute, the show is cancelled.
- Conversely, dnp go on a holiday to Iceland, where the one Icelandic person who watches them meets them by pure chance at a bar in Reykjavik.
- The Christmas tree delivery guy finally wears a kilt this year! Phil takes a celebratory selfie with him (and the tree) at their front door, posts it, a casual new viewer submits the picture to one of those geoguessr youtubers, who then outs dnp's address to their surprisingly large audience.
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arvlelt · 12 hours ago
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pretty mechanic.
pairing - vi x fem!reader
cw - reader's attractiveness makes vi nervy, reader is a smarty pants duh, for the sake of the plot vi doesn’t like cait, fluff, teasing, etc. lmk if i missed anything.
request - For Vi, something with a fem reader, who she meets through Ekko. Reader is apart of the Firelights, a mechanic or a healer, and she's getting parts and Vi just spots her rummaging through old stuff that she's intent on using to fix a hover board, and gets all tongue tied because she was expecting some scrawny pack rat kid, not a pretty woman
w.count - 1.1k+
a/n - kinda short did w what i could, also it's not letting me tag the person that requested this so if you see this, this ones for you gang<3 not proofread
"this better not be a waste of our time," grumbled a pretty grumpy violet who was following ekko with caitlyn not too far behind.
they were on their way to maybe find some clues about powder before ekko insisted that they make a pit stop to fix his board.
ekko scoffed, "if you want my help, i'm going to need my board. which needs fixing. so i need to go to our mechanic, genius."
vi smirked, "what, you can't fix it yourself, big guy? need a lil 'ol mechanic to fix it?" her tone was teasing as ekko didn't reply.
vi thought that was the end of that and that her point was proven right at his silence.
so you could imagine her shock when she see's not a scrawny little nerd, but in fact a very pretty and fit woman.
vi felt her cheeks warming up as she eyed the woman bent over, rummaging through boxes of whatever you were looking for, vi wasn’t as fixated on that — and more on the woman in her eye frame.
she couldn’t help her wandering eyes as they examined your curves, taking in all of your body that she didn’t even seem to notice ekko and caitlyn watching her watch you.
she took in your complete outfit, short shorts that showed just enough but not a lot of your ass, fishnets underneath with a few layered t-shirts you had laying around that made you look so good.
vi seemed to sense a presence behind her she turned around with a slightly flustered expression, “who, uhm— who’s that?” she whispered. ekko couldn’t stop the shit eating from he had.
you seemed to hear the commotion as you looked over your shoulder for a quick sec, not giving much attention to the newcomers, before going back to your little invention you were working on.
“what happened now, ekko?” he could hear the desperation in your voice as ekko had quite a habit of damaging his board after coming back from raids, which would make you pause whatever you were working on.
ekko moved past vi, caitlyn straying behind him, and walked into your work space, taking a comfortable seat on your desk next to you, "this is our mechanic, y/n! she can typically fix anything aaanddd, she's a huge help around here."
you scoffed at his praise, wiping the sweat off your brow as you turned around and vi fully saw your face.
she swore she could've fallen on her knees right then and there. you were down right gorgeous. and not just that, you for sure had to have brains. it certainly doesn't take the average person to know what they're doing with being a mechanic and fixing equipment.
vi couldn't help the words spilling out her mouth, as she suddenly felt flustered, "she's your mechanic?" sounding a little more loud than she intended to.
caitlyn was quite amused, not quite used to seeing big bad vi so tongue-tied over someone. and it's not like she could blame her.
you tried not to take offense to her little comment but your face betrayed you as you responded, "and what's that supposed to mean?" you had a bit of an attitude as you reached over and grabbed a rag, cleaning your hands of the grease.
vi could understand why, it's not like everyone in the undercity was as accepting of women doing 'man jobs'.
she winced at how she might've sounded, hands coming up in defense and immediately was fumbling over her words, "that's- that's not what i was implying-! you're.. you're just so.." she trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under your gaze. you were looking at her with a raised brow, waiting for her to finish.
well it's not like she was implying a bad thing, you were just so pretty. and she could never imagine a pretty dainty thing like you getting your hands dirty, and honestly, she found it so hot.
"i'm soo..?"
oh vi was gonna piss herself at the tone of your voice.
ekko cleared his throat in attempt to save vi, "anways! we're here because i once again busted my board. you guessed it. so if you would be so kind," you scoffed and let go of whatever vi was trying to say and looked over at ekko, who was handing you his board.
vi swallowed hard and she could feel sweat forming on her forehead as she watched you two chatting, caitlyn grabbing her attention as she came next to her, "what's got you so.. not.. you...?" she questioned her but she knew very well what the reason was.
she was trying to tease her, honestly.
vi scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit at her question, "oh, please, you know exactly why," she walked out your workspace with caitlyn trailing behind her.
as they walked out you gave a slight glance at where they walked out before looking back at ekko, "who's that pink-haired chick? she got a problem?" you tilted your head as ekko let out a slight chuckle.
"oh, her only issue would be that you weren't trying to get at her," ekko let out a little laugh as your face dropped in shock.
well that's not what you were expecting. it's not everyday that a woman finds interest in you.
and honestly, it kind of intrigued you.
vi and caitlyn came back in, and once again vi couldn't find the will to speak in your presence. you looked at violet, this time taking a good look at her which seemed to make her blush as she felt her cheeks warming up under your gaze as you eyed her up and down.
"can i help you with something else?" your tone was kinder and more inviting as you could feel the nerves basically rolling off of vi.
vi looking to the side at caitlyn before looking back at you, "uh, just wanna know if you guys are done. we need to, uh, head out soon."
you hummed, looking at ekko and signaling for him to borrow your board, "well if it's urgent, ekko can use mine while i fix his," ekko took the courtesy of walking out, caitlyn as well.
which finally left you two alone for a split sec before the nerves got to vi again and she turned on her heel, ready to run for it.
"i didn't catch your name?" vi was going to faint, good lord.
there was no way such a pretty girl was asking for her name.
she turned over her shoulder, giving a shy smile, "violet, vi for short."
you hummed slightly in response and she watched as you moved along your workspace, grabbing ekko's board and placing it on your work desk, "well, vi, you should come by some time. let me get to know you," your back was turned to her as you started working on the disaster in front of you.
vi was going to explode. she couldn't help the little hops of victory she did quietly behind you before replying calmly.
"yeah for sure, that sounds nice."
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thewertsearch · 6 hours ago
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The two last trolls alive, blood of rust and royalty, will make each other pay for the crimes against their race. Their payment will be mutually dealt in the currency of punishment and reward at once. The Condesce will be rewarded with the power and immortality her new service entails, and punished by the grueling slavery for which it is synonymous. And you, young lady, are to be punished by death at the hands of your replacement. And so too will this be your reward.
As a villain speech, this goes pretty damn hard.
There’s also a smug air of detached satisfaction to it. Scratch is the one who really deserves to pay. He’s the one who's been perpetrating crimes against their race since its inception. But he’s completely untouchable, so he’s free to sit back and narrate the fight he goaded them into.
It also illustrates another parallel between Scratch and Hussie. Technically, Hussie is the ultimate cause of all the suffering in this comic – but at the same time, he can’t be ‘held responsible’ for it. That wouldn’t make any sense.
Similarly, if Scratch was called out, he’d say that he’s not causing any suffering, he’s simply 'facilitating the inevitable'. It wouldn’t make any sense to blame him, would it? He's only the narrator of Homestuck's plot, after all.
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...speak of the devil.
I've been watching Hussie's progress through the mansion, but he hasn't done anything noteworthy so far. He did refer to the Ancestor backstory as ‘fanfiction’ at one point – but for my own sanity, I’m going to assume that was just a tongue-in-cheek meta joke.
Perhaps you wish to know the history of the clock, and how I came to possess it? Yes, I can see the sparkle of curiosity in your eye. It's a marvelous tale, one almost as long as it is verbosely told. Where do I even begin

Looks like Hussie’s about to attack Scratch before he can explain the clock’s backstory - which isn't quite as bad as if he'd interrupted the Ancestor lore, but I was still hoping to learn about the origin of this artifact. A God Tier resurrection monitor seems like it’d be useful to have around.
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If I have to put up with one more smug meandering interlude in my own story I am going to crack your head open and serve you a heaping bowl full of your downy soft puppet ass. How do you like that for hospitality, Doc?
...I’m having a little trouble interpreting what’s happening here.
What does it mean for a story, when the metaphorical author is accosted by the actual author? Is this just Hussie’s way of signaling that the Scratch Narration Arc is over, and we’re going back to regular programming?
Furthermore, is this even a ‘real’ event? Is Scratch’s grand plan seriously being foiled by Hussie, and not the actual characters of Homestuck?
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And what the fuck does Kid Handmaid think about all this?
How do you react, when your invincible, immortal abuser is finally brought low by some random alien who appeared out of nowhere, ranted about puppet ass, and proceeded to dance a little jig?
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niwaart · 2 days ago
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DIFFERENT WORLD, DIFFERENT FAMILY.
(Introduction, part1....)
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Y/N woke up to a sound... not a completely quiet sound... which had a lot of meanings... and not good ones at all... Well let's think positively.. Why didn't Dick come to her room this morning? Maybe he's still asleep... or maybe he's preparing some kind of surprise? No... today isn't her birthday or even Mother's Day... that's okay, maybe he's with Jason planning a new prank? Yeah yeah... so why didn't Bruce wake her up?... Maybe he's busy with some case... or maybe he's making breakfast for the kids... that's right... no need to worry...
She stood up from the bed slowly and gracefully... If Jason was planning a prank with Dick then that meant she had to be careful not to fall for it... It's easy, expect the unexpected and you'll be fine... (almost)... She walked to the door after making sure the door didn't hold any traps, she walked out of the room but there was an uneasy feeling inside her... Like something was wrong... But no negative thoughts! Only positive ones!
“Okay Y/N you can do this, don’t freak out, this is just a prank..” Y/N walked through the hallways, while noticing some paintings missing
 Where were the pictures of her with her kids? And her husband? Dick or Jason can’t take them, they know they are precious
 Something is wrong
 Something is wrong this morning. Out of panic, Y/N ran downstairs screaming “Dick!! Jason!! Bruce!! Where are you!!!"
When she reached the basement she saw breakfast ready on the dining table her tension eased for a second before it returned again and more so to find that there was a strange man in a formal uniform inside the kitchen of her house... Who is this?... Her shock was not enough yet as she looked again at the dining table and saw that there was a small child... This is not Little Dick or Jason... Who is this?... And beside the small boy there is another boy who looks older but is very thin and looks tired... Who is this?... And at the top of the table there is a man... Wait... It's Bruce! "Bruce! What's happening? Where are the children? Who are these?" She said in panic while Bruce who stopped drinking his coffee when she entered looked at her with suspicion and confusion
“I can’t believe it, Father
 Why didn’t you tell us that you brought a strange woman
 It’s not your habit to bring one of your relationships home.” The little boy remembered in a tone that was familiar to Y/N.
“No
 I don’t remember bringing anyone home with me
 Who are you?” Bruce stood up from his seat cautiously, who knows, maybe you’re a villain in disguise. Y/N looked at Bruce carefully
 Now did her husband always look so old? With so many wrinkles? And the signs of fatigue under his eyes looked like they were from years ago and not just last night
 No
 Take her husband, in a split second she wanted to pull out her weapon
 A small dagger from the top of her leg, but she was surprised that her weapon was not there

“Are you looking for this?” The young boy pointed to the dagger he was holding
 whenever he could
 Y/N instinctively stepped back and got into a defensive stance. “Who are you
 where are my kids
 and what are you doing in my house
 let me warn you that I am not an easy person to play with
 and you better answer honestly and quickly because I am not very patient with strangers.”
The skinny boy was watching all this wearily as he drank his coffee uninterested... The strange man in formal clothes approached... He looked like a butler with his gait
“Excuse me, miss, but do you know where you are right now?” The butler looked at her in confusion at her words.
“Alfred, don’t interfere, and stay away, she might be one of the bad guys.” The man who looked like her husband Bruce replied

“Father, can I hold her?” The little boy said as he asked his father’s permission
Y/N prepared to attack and defend herself, she will not spare anyone who takes her children... It's okay her husband will be fine, but her children are a red line and anyone who crosses it will die. Bruce looked at Y/N with a strange, unreadable expression... Was he thinking? Was he planning? Y/N didn't understand what he was thinking... He was just like her husband, unreadable... "Okay, Damian, hold her, but don't hurt her, and stay careful." Bruce's lookalike said to the small boy... Damian? Did he just say Damian? Y/N looked at the child carefully... Is this Damian? Her child? No, Damian is 22 now, not a child... But.. But... He looks like Damian when he was a child!
Damian smiled widely, "This will be so easy." Damian ran towards Y/N who was lost in thought and tried to attack her neck with the plan of making her pass out but what surprised him was that the next second he found himself face down on the ground pinned... What?
Bruce, the skinny boy, and the man named Alfred were surprised.. while Y/N was shocked by the movements of the boy who looked like her son Damian a moment ago... those were the movements of her son Damian when he first came home... "You.. who are you... where is my family... where are my children and husband.. " she said while keeping Damian still under her. "You little one.. what's your mother's name?.." Bruce stepped forward carefully to make sure she wouldn't do anything to Damian. "Leave the boy alone... what do you want? And children are you talking about? You're in Wayne's house now... my house.."
Y/N wanted to tighten her grip but she didn't want to hurt the little boy who looked like her son. She just held him down so he couldn't move. "I know I'm at Wayne's house, this is my house, and I own the place, don't you dare even call it your house." Y/N looked seriously at Bruce who was worried about the little boy. Behind him stood the skinny boy, Alfred. "You!! Let go of me now!" Damian tried to get himself out from under the strange woman... How was she able to stop his attack? And pin him down so well he couldn't move a bone!
Bruce looked at the woman in shock
 Her house? How so? She must be lying
 Wait
 The ring
 The ring the woman is holding
 It’s the same ring as his dead mother’s
 How
! “You
 Who are you?
 How did you get my mother’s ring?” Bruce looked at the woman in shock, did she steal his valuables? How dare you!
 Y/N looked at the man in shock
 His mother’s ring? No, that’s her mother-in-law’s ring. “Don’t you dare talk about my mother-in-law’s ring you son of a bitch! Where are my kids!!” Y/N was sick of all this, she didn’t want to waste any more time, her kids must be waiting for her now
 Scared and wanting to go home

Before Bruce could say anything, the skinny boy stepped in front of Bruce. “Wait a minute, who are your children?” the skinny boy said. “Tim no
” Bruce couldn’t finish his sentence until the boy called Tim stopped him again. “Calm down Bruce.”
Y/N looked at the skinny boy
 Tim? Timothy? No
 No, her son Tim isn’t skinny, he has a distinctive mark on his cheek
 So no
 that’s not her son either. “What do you mean who are my children?” Y/N looked at Tim with confusion and impatience.
“I mean their names, what are your children’s names, maybe we can help you find them. And don’t say that we kidnapped them, you’re in a different world now. This is not the same world you were befor.” Tim said calmly, not saying it was a beautiful day, not saying anything unfriendable. Everyone looked at Tim in shock.
“What do you mean, is this a joke? I swear if I get even a scratch on one of my children, I’ll dig your grave with my own hands!” Y/N said. In disbelief, while Damian was still struggling to get out of her grip and Bruce was waiting for him, Tim looked at him in confusion.
“What do you mean by that, Tim? How did you figure that out?” Bruce asked questioningly, Tim calmly answered him as he held up Y/N’s dagger, “With this dagger, if you look closely, you’ll notice Arabic letters written on it, and this is Damian’s handwriting without a doubt, and it says ‘Happy Birthday, Mom’ and there’s a little Robin sign on it, and the other thing is how she showed up in the house out of the blue, no one could just walk in like that with the heavy security in the house, and also she stopped Damian like she was used to his movements, which means she knew Damian from before.”
“I don’t know this woman!!” Danian said angrily. He was tired of being like this! “Get away from me!!” Damian tried to struggle again to get out, but it was no use.
Bruce looked at the dagger thinking, it was really his son's handwriting, and there was Robin's mark, which meant she knew their true identities at night, and also it wasn't the first time someone came from another world, so it could be true. Y/N thought about it, first the missing pictures in the house, and her children but... younger and with some differences, and her husband but with wrinkles that made him look old, and a strange man unknown until now. She looked at the little boy below her. "Damian?... You're Damian? Talia al Ghul's son? Ra's al Ghul's grandson?"
Damian sighed in annoyance and anger, “How do you know my mother and grandfather?” Y/N was surprised for a moment
 so it was really Damian, her little son, and not a lookalike.
"ŰŻŰ§ÙŠÙ…Ű§Ù†ŰŒ ŰŁÙ†ŰȘ هو Ű­Ù‚Ű§! Ű·ÙÙ„ÙŠ! ... " Y/N said in Arabic which surprised Damian.
《Damian, you are him! My son!》
“You
 how do you know
” Damian said in shock. Y/N immediately let go of him and helped him up and adjusted his clothes. “You’re the one who taught me, kiddo. I’m sorry, are you okay? Did I hurt you somewhere?” Y/N said apologetically as she gently held his hand. Damian was still in shock. Bruce was convinced that Y/N was from another world now. “So I guess it was just a misunderstanding? Well, if you don’t mind, I don’t want breakfast to get cold, so everyone have a seat now.” Alfred said, who was followed by Tim to sit in his seat, while Y/N took the dagger and handed it to Damian. “I don’t think you remember this, but this gift is my most precious thing, and of course it’s a useful gift.”
Damian took the dagger and examined it. It looked like the one he had now
 but this one looked old
 as if it had been used hundreds of times. Damian let out a yelp when Y/N suddenly picked him up. “Hey! Let go of me! Now!!” Y/N ignored Damian as she placed him in his seat and sat next to him. Tim who had been enjoying it from the start, from Y/N pinning him down to holding him like a little baby, laughed. Damian, his face red with anger, and probably embarrassed, mumbled curse words in Arabic.
“Hey, I can understand you, don’t forget that.” She pinched his cheek but he slapped her hand away. “Don’t touch me!” Y/N laughed at Damian’s reaction. “Oh my god, you remind me of when you were sixteen.. You were always so intolerant of me, and mean, but I got used to you.”
Alfred placed breakfast in front of Y/N as she silently thanked him. “But Damian is sixteen now..” Bruce said looking at Y/N in confusion. “Uh
 Well
 That’s true.. Given his size, but in my world Damian is twenty-two now.”
Everyone looked at Y/N in shock except for Alfred who was bringing the green tea as requested by Y/N. “Yes, and Timmy? You’re 20, Jason’s 16, and Dick’s 12.”
Tim wasn't much surprised... when he knew that in another world he was twenty...it is only two years older than now... but what surprised him the most was that Dick is only 12?!! And Jason is 16?!! How?! "Wait, can I ask Bruce's age in another world? And Alfred too" Tim said very curiously... his hand itching to get his notebook to record.
Y/N looked at Tim with a gentle smile, he was like her child in her original world. Curious. “Bruce is 54... As for Alfred... Well... There was no one named Alfred..”
This time Bruce was the one who was surprised, how did Bruce live in your world without Alfred?... "And what is your relationship with the Wayne family?" Bruce looked at his mother's ring on Y/N's finger.... Could it be that she...
"I am Bruce Wayne's wife, Y/N."
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deslizada · 2 days ago
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first thank you for all this info and explanation, it's super helpful!! I am a baby ML and I've recently been working with the local Revolutionary Communists of America chapter (used to be IMT), but I did have some concerns about them. It would be really good to hear from a non-trot about my experiences. This is focused on modern Trotskyism, not Trotsky as a person, who imo was kind of a bitch.
First some background, I live in [city redacted] and most of the leftists here are anarchists, so getting any of them together is like herding cats. The PSL (Party for Socialism and Liberation) and the RCA are really the only organized leftist groups here. I found the RCA through student strike for Palestine organizing at the local DSA meeting. They have done a lot of work with Palestine action groups and were at the university divestment encampment, which was a good sign for me. I decided to organize with the RCA because the PSL (or at least my local chapter) supports a two-state solution in Palestine and denies that the Uyghur ethnic cleansing is happening, among other things. Also, my local PSL chapter does a lot of agitating but not much in terms of education or long-term organizing. The RCA seems focused on building a vanguard party for the long term with a thorough theoretical education, which imo is the only viable strategy in the US at this point given the (almost) complete lack of revolutionary potential right now.
In terms of my personal experiences, I will say that the RCA does uphold democratic centralism and focuses on the works of Marx and Lenin much more than Trotsky. (I have yet to be recommended anything written by Trotsky, actually.) They fully support revolutions outside the imperialist core and critically support existing socialist projects. Also imo they have a good analysis of current events, i.e. the situation in Syria, China's economic imperialism, how to combat imperialism internally in the US, etc. Their interpretation of permanent revolution is not "all countries must revolt at the same time", but rather "countries do not have to adhere to Marx's stage theory and can progress straight to socialism regardless of their previous conditions". (Caveat that I have no idea if this is a correct interpretation.) They do emphasize international coalition-building very heavily though. All this to say that my experiences with my local chapter have been generally good and I haven't run into any big red flags re: theory yet.
My first concern is that they do ask for one day's wages for monthly dues, which is a lot of income for me. There is a lot of focus on donating in general, and it's not clear where the money goes beyond supporting the few people who work for the party full-time and printing newspapers. However, they also say that anything over $25 a month is fine for dues, so I'm not super worried about it and I don't feel pressured or anything, I would just appreciate more financial clarity.
My second, bigger concern is that I've tried to bring up getting involved in mutual aid a few times, and it hasn't been received very well. The chairs of the chapter basically said that it was useful for personal development, but wouldn't actually contribute to bringing down capitalism, so it wasn't worth the party's time to do. They also said that it would basically be entryism to work with apolitical mutual aid groups (???). They said that their goal was recruiting people who are already communists but aren't organized and we should be focused on that instead. I don't disagree that that's important, I just also think that doing mutual aid explicitly as a communist party would be a really good way to 1. support the community 2. get a good reputation going for the party.
Also, not a huge concern but definitely worth noting, the local chapter is almost entirely students. I'm the oldest person in the group at 29. This means that it's fairly disorganized and nobody can show up on time to anything. They are not beating the allegations.
Also also I find Alan Woods' writing kind of unbearable and wish they would find some different authors.
I would really appreciate some feedback about whether I'm wasting my time with the RCA and should just shut up and join the PSL instead, or if there's a secret third option I don't know about. Anyone is welcome to chime in on this. Thanks again for all the work you put into this explanation, I really appreciate it!!!
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I think it's fair to say there is interest in an explanation of trotskyism from a marxist-leninist perspective. Information on what exactly Trotsky did and what trotskyism is nowadays is complicated to come by unless you know a trotskyist willing to be straightforward or someone involved in organizing with these types of communists. So instead of answering these asks without much prior research or preparation, I decided to wait until I was freer, without too many academic and political responsibilities. Full disclosure, the portion of this post on Trotsky himself is essentially (though not completely) a summary of Moissaye J. Olgin's Trotskysim: Counter-revolution in Disguise, which gets into the basics of trotskyism as well as Trotsky's actual position on his contemporary issues, such as the Chinese revolution, or the CPUSA which I don't get into here but I highly recommend reading. The second portion, about modern trotskyism and how it got to be present in the countries that it is, is shorter and more based on my own experiences organizing with trotskyists as well as reading what they have to say, and conversations with much more knowledgeable comrades of mine.
What is trotskyism?
Succinctly, it is the form of left opposition to marxism-leninism that has enjoyed the most spread, spearheaded by Leon Trotsky and his criticisms of the USSR.
Trotsky himself, despite what his self-aggrandizing History of the Russian Revolution leads one to believe, was never a bolshevik, much less a leninist. The second Congress of the Russian Social-Democratic Labor PartyÂč (RSDLP) of 1903, which sought to establish the bases of what would become the bolshevik party and the CPSU, saw the start of the menshevik-bolshevik split, on the issue of what the party should become and how it should be organized.
The bolsheviks, already lead by Lenin, defended the principles of organization that were later systematized into democratic-centralism. These principles were the freedom of discussion until the party decided by a majority vote during a Congress, Conference or other organ for discussion, a position on any issue. After this, unity of action should follow, and the comrades who held the minority opinion, even if they still disagree, should submit to the collectively agreed-upon position, and act on that line an all party matters. This is to ensure that the party of the proletariat, representing the interests of one class, is not divided, and is able to express that single will. Otherwise, its action is crippled by unending debates kept alive by a minority. Consequently, these principles also lead to the intolerance towards fractions within the party.
Trotsky, who aligned himself with the mensheviks, opposed these principles, instead advocating for a complete liberty of individual action of comrades in the party. He called Lenin "the great disorganizer of the party" over this. This is the first great pillar of trotskyism, a rejection of democratic-centralism in favor of the creation of endless cliques and fractions within the party, which he did multiple times within the CPSU until his expulsion.
The second great pillar of the trotskyist opposition that arose before the October Revolution was of defeatism regarding the peasantry. Especially after the defeat of the 1905 revolution, Trotsky was convinced that a successful revolution in a country such as the Russian Empire, where the peasantry was a majority and usually held reactionary positions due to various economic determinationsÂČ, was impossible because these reactionary elements would inevitably overthrow a worker's dictatorship. While already an excessively defeatist position among other communists, and certainly not a bolshevik position, this belief did not change whether it was 1905, 1915, or 1935. Up to the end, even once the USSR had beaten the armed intervention of 14 armies and had transformed the peasantry by eliminating the class of kulaks and collectivizing agriculture, Trotsky's opposition to socialism in one country relied on the perception of an insurmountable reactionary class constantly on the edge of an overthrow. This is what the "permanent revolution", a term that when used by trotsky has nothing to do with the same term used by Marx and Engels, actually means. A defeatism so deep, that only the practically simultaneous and global victory of the proletariat is possible, all without party unity!
This also negates other leninist positions such as the weakest chain theory, crucial to understanding imperialism, or the necessity of a communist party altogether. Since socialism in one country will inevitably fail, Trotsky told workers that an armed insurrection once the conditions was right was pointless, and that they should instead work for a "worldwide revolution", something that's in practice impossible because it would necessitate a synchronization of the conditions necessary for a revolution in every single imperialist country at once. Unequal development is an unbreakable rule of the imperialist stage of capitalism, and the notion of a worldwide revolution or even a revolution among a significant portion of imperialist countries was already refuted by Lenin in 1915.
So how did Trotsky reconcile his defeatist dogmatism with a living and thriving proof against it in the form of the USSR? As the third great pillar of trotskyism, he insisted by every possible avenue that the USSR wasn't actually socialist, the reasons for which changed constantly. Some issues were already recognized by the CPSU and worked against, and Trotsky exaggerated them. He expressed concern about the Central Committee replacing the party itself, he expressed concern about bureaucratization, the NEP and its lack of collectivization, the excessive speed of collectivization in the 30s, and other criticisms which, when taken together, show only contradiction and a single consistent position: that any attack against the USSR was legitimate.
And it's not like he was being ignored in the USSR, he simply always chose the most incendiary and anti-leninist methods for criticism. In the 13th Congress of the RCP(b) of 1924, among other things, the resolution that was approved recognized many flaws in the party coming out of the NEP, but that these issues weren't actively dangerous and could be solved: bureaucratization in some areas, excessive departmentalization, some influence of bourgeois elements. This resolution was passed unanimously, which included Trotsky. Immediately after the Congress, he published a pamphlet called The New Course, in which he lambasts this Congress and the entire party as having degenerated. In this pamphlet he also places students as the "barometer of the revolution", instead of workers themselves. His only proposal to that Congress was one to allow "freedom of groupings", meaning the freedom to form fractions. Once again he pulled the same stunt in the 15th Congress of 1926; he publicly subscribed to a resolution that explicitly banned such fractions, and directly afterwards published more pamphlets that directly opposed the resolution that he subscribed to! This is not a man who levied fair criticisms and was shut down, he was someone who held minority positions, anti-leninist ones, and refused to admit it, to the point of plotting against the USSR.
But how come Trotsky, during his better known times in exile, claimed he was the true Leninist and that he opposed the Stalinist degeneration? This is the greatest example of a tactic he used constantly. To always seem like the rational critic, and to pass his opposition as one coming from another bolshevik, he always shifted the perspective of his criticisms. In the times of Lenin, Lenin was the "great disorganizer", and the "leader of the reactionary wing of the party"Âł. But once Lenin died, he became the most loyal foot-soldier of Leninism, crusading against the Stalinist corruption. Then it was Stalin who became Trotsky's devil, effortlessly transposing his criticisms of Lenin to Stalin, and shifting his perspective from that of a menshevik, to that of a true "bolshevik-leninist".
This tactic was used constantly. For instance. when he was still within the ranks of the party, he completely opposed the principles of democratic-centralism, but once he was in exile and had to criticize the Communist International, his issue suddenly became only that the bolshevik form of organization was being hastily applied to different contexts. Then, he really had no issue with democratic-centralism. When he talked of the possibility of a revolution in the US, then all his worries of an insurmountable reaction dissolved, instead becoming an optimist who believed that, actually, there would be no real significant class who would oppose a revolution in the US, and that therefore the USamerican workers should carry out a revolution "without compulsion". The very same person who over the course of decades insisted on the dangers of a counter-revolution apparently believed the workers of the USA had no opposition to fear. This was, rather, simply an opposition to the Communist International's analysis of imperialism, as Trotsky placed the most revolutionary potential in the countries where capitalism was most developed, the imperial core, the very same mistake Marx and Engels committed, except only 70 years prior and with no good framework with which to analyze imperialism. If Trotsky was truly a leninist, then he utterly failed at even beginning to understand anything about the theory regarding imperialism.
I think this is a good enough place to leave Trotsky be, and talk now about trotskyism beyond Trotsky.
Trotskyism, especially in its analysis of imperialism, is very attractive to the imperial core communist. It appeals to multiple sensibilities like individualism, an aversion to revolutionary discipline and work, and impatience. By putting the emphasis away from the party of our class and onto the group of individual ideologues, each with their own cliques and mini-parties, by completely disregarding the possibility of a revolution outside the top of the imperialist pyramid, and by also disregarding the possibility of a revolution until the instance of a total global victory, it is no wonder most trotskyists nowadays are found in the imperial core. This is, with the exception of a portion of Latin-American countries, which I think deserves its own explanation.
Latin America in the 20s and 30s was a continent⁎ of very differing levels of development of capitalism and the proletariat. When many European trotskyists left to Latin America for various reasons, it's no coincidence that they ended up mostly in the urban centers of the most developed countries, such as Argentina and MĂ©xico, where Trotsky himself ended his emigrations after exile. It was exported to places that had a significantly developed proletariat, places which up to that point lacked a culture of multiple communist parties, like Europe had, and places with a strong unionist movement. Other countries like Colombia, Ecuador or PerĂș, whose worker movements were more significantly indigenist and/or decolonial, along with not meeting the other conditions like Argentina and MĂ©xico, were less ripe for trotskyism.
The condition for a lack of a multi-party environment was important because the trotskyist opposition to the USSR collected all the "orphaned" communists who opposed the sections of the Communist International in each of their countries, especially after the Moscow trials of the late 30s which expanded the opposition to marxism-leninism internationally, as well as with other events like the Hungarian intervention after WW2. But besides this very specific phenomenon, product of a set of very specific conditions which, outside of the imperial core, were only met in these specific countries, the basis of trotskyism as an imperial core opposition to marxism-leninism remains.
So nowadays, trotskyists are mostly located in the imperial core, with those exceptions I've explained. And this leads me to the last part of this post, which is about organizing with trotskyists as a marxist-leninist. In short, it's not impossible but also not an extraordinary situation. Organizing in the imperial core varies from country to country, that much is clear, but the fragmentation into countless groups and sects, as well as the competition with social-democrats, is broadly consistent. These conditions, again generally, mean marxist-leninist parties in the imperial core have to collaborate with a myriad of communist offshoots, anarchists, and ill-defined "leftists" to achieve a broader reach. This includes trotskyists. What makes them in particular uniquely annoying to organize with is that they continue to pretend to be leninists despite all the discrepancies, so they tend to constitute competitors in agitation and rhetoric, while their internal organization usually resembles that of an anarchist group more than anything else. From this, other symptoms like a reliance on assemblyism (especially in the students' movement) and extreme levels of voluntarism naturally follow.
The IMT (International Marxist Tendency), or whichever acronym it is that they're using now, has a relevant presence in just the US and UK with a nominal one in most other imperial core countries. In all cases they're not much more than newspaper vendors who sometimes gives talks at best, and mere reading clubs or financially-extorting sects at worst. There is another international grouping of trotskyist parties that I've come across led by the PTA (Partido del Trabajo Argentino, Argentinian Labor Party), mostly linked via their news broadcast Izquierda Diario, although from what I've heard, the PTA finances their international "children" parties too. Of course, these groups all have different names in each country which in turn tend to change every few years.
Before the split of the Second International during WWI, communists called themselves social-democrats
The mode of production of the peasantry was very individualized, since each peasant or group of peasants lived partly from the fruits of their own labor, they didn't sell it in its entirety. This stands in contrast with the proletariat's completely socialized mode of production; every worker sells the entirety of their labor-power and sustains themself by purchasing commodities with their salary. The pre-existing socialization of production in capitalism was identified by Marx and Engels already in the Manifesto as one of the reasons for the proletariat being the revolutionary class by excellence. The reactionary tendencies of the peasantry wasn't wholly determined by this, it also depended on various historical and contextual reasons, but this should be better expanded on a dedicated post to social alliances.
These are all real insults thrown at Lenin by Trotsky when he disagreed about party discipline. The "true leninist", ladies and gentlemen
Using "continent" in a very loose way here. It's not like the common definitions of continent are very determined either. But you get what I mean
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theglassesgirl · 3 days ago
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The Ithaca Saga: What IS a Monster, how it’s presented, and when fictional S.A is integral to the plot.
So -
This was originally a response to @ / anniflamma which you can still find on my page unedited. But with the new discourse surrounding the suitors, I figured I could retool it as a standalone essay to express a topic I’ve been trying to pin down for a while now; What exactly does the mean when they call a character a monster? What do they do, do the reasons matter, and how does the subject of rape affect how the fandom consider some monsters more unforgivable than others? When IS rape in fiction “necessary” and why such questions defeat the purpose of exploratory creative works.
In this post we will discuss all the major antagonists of the Epic Musical, Penelope’s agency, the label of Monster and the types of moralizing one might do when faced with uncomfortable subjects in fiction and how to prevent these feelings from blinding is about what a story is trying to say.
For those who read my original response; there’s new content to read here and posts that will be referred to, if you’d like to give it another gander!
Thank you,
Let’s begin;
I think making the threat of rape explicit was very much needed, actually.
It’s come to my attention that there are people here and on tiktok who are so uncomfortable with the subject matter in this CENTURIES old tale that they’re both refusing to accept that it plays an important part in the original poem and musical, AND are bizarrely insisting that Jorge should have magically done away with it to make more palatable.
This is beyond juvenile - it’s a clear sign of media illiteracy.
What, if I may ask, do you think it means when you say that the suitors are going to force Penelope to choose one of them to marry.
You may respond that they want to take over Ithaca. That they want to be king. But take a moment to consider what forcing a woman to marry one of them will entail. I wonder if you think that one can divorce the idea of sexual violence in this plot.
It would be
unfathomably difficult to do so. Because you CANT. There is an implicit threat of Penelope’s will breaking and having to have unwilling and reluctant sex with any one of them in the event she just gave up and picked one.
This isn’t a storyline that depicts Penelope of being willing to marry any of the suitors. She is WAITING for her husband’s return. Even if he doesn’t, she doesn’t WANT to marry someone else. Her consent is being violated by the very merit of them being in her palace, eating her food, and threatening her son.
They’re doing ALL OF THIS in order to bend her will in the HOPES of raping her as a bonus to becoming king of Ithaca.
My contention is the use of “unnecessary” when it comes to this trope in media - though themes of rape can be uncomfortable, to call them unnecessary HAVE to meet certain criteria. Which this specific instance doesn’t.
By observing various responses, it’s clear that the threat of rape went completely over many’s head in this instance of the story. So I very must appreciate Jorge making it SO clear that it’s upsetting.
This part of the odyssey, and the musical, is very much about Penelope suffering under the threat of assault for YEARS. In the same way Odysseus was (a thing I touched upon in my calypso essay, in terms of his ambiguous situation in the musical) - it’s a parallel that works as both Antinous and Calypso were introduced (regardless on your personal interpretation of what Calypso did or did not do, but that’s neither here nor there).
It has taken an emotional and psychological toll of either spouse. And the kicker is that neither of them are freed of this situation on their own - they are both rescued by outside forces. Athena/Hermes helps free Odysseus; Athena/Odysseus will help free Penelope.
The looming threat of rape is SO necessary that it helps the catharsis factor we feel toward PENELOPE’s story - it’s nothing to do w Odysseus who by now is a force of nature as big as Poseidon, his actions happen TO her, and it’s up to her to decide (per “would you love me” ) what she feels about that. She can very well reject him! She’s suffered under male violence for YEARS. Odysseus’s violence and those of the suitors toward her are basis enough for the comparison.
Do all men, including her husband, become violent? Does she want to put up with that? We know from her song snippets that she is NOT a woman that simply succumbs to the Rape Rescue trope as suggested by ignorant consumers of media - and I call it ignorance and consumerism because there’s a clear lack of engaging with the material in an intuitive way. It’s just blind consumption - as if one bites into a burger and find a pickle, which you personally don’t like, and having it removed - you can’t treat ART that way .
Penelope is a very intuitive and emotionally intelligent queen. Stop infantilizing her. Her own husband suggests that like the suitors, his actions make him just as bad as they are and presents his hope as being understanding if she rejects him on those grounds. But those ARENT her grounds. She has full autonomy and can make a distinction FOR HERSELF whether she considers her husband equal to the monsters who have harmed her.
So let’s talk about the “Monster” label as it is presented on the entire musical.
Some have erroneously suggested that Odysseus has been given an out to commit cruel and ruthless deeds with out “good justification” - he does it for his family,, after all!
Which is a misunderstanding of everything every antagonist of each saga has done.
Let’s start with the Troy Saga: Odysseus has killed a BABY. He made the choice to put his family over this child. Everything he has done and lost would be for literally NOTHING if he hadn’t, as even if he had killed the suitors and regained everything - the GODS themselves would make sure that child would come to an aged Odysseus and slaughter him, Penelope, Telemachus and his entire kingdom when he came of age.
Odysseus STARTS as a monster. We have been rooting for the man who laid Troy and its children asunder. As such, the label of a monster is NOT so much a morally subjective label - it simply a thing that IS. Or rather. It is what ALL the antagonists ARE, but it’s hardly a condemnation of any of them.
(Peep that one of the first lines Ody says refers back to in the Vengeance Saga is what he did to Troy - he STILL views his actions over there as unforgivable, so not even HE will ever see himself otherwise, the problem was that he felt so guilty over it that he became a detriment (a different kind of monster) to his friends and family when they were all guilty of the same thing and trying to get home.)
ALL of the antagonists have a “good reason” to kill ALL the soldiers (who again, have looted and slaughtered the Trojans) Odysseus and his close friends included. Whether your AGREE is almost irrelevant
because the story itself proposes that it’s irrelevant.
The next saga introduces the cyclops: his motivation is primarily that his FRIENDS the sheep have been slaughtered. You can argue in the scope of things, you can’t empathize with this but it’s his good reason. He’s the son of a god, and these sheep are all he has. His friends, who matter to him as much as Polites does to Ody, are being taken and slain, he is being drugged, attacked and maimed. VERY much was Ody goes through in the final saga. And even so.
The Cyclops is antagonistic to the party, he’s a monster who feels justified killing to avenge his killed sheep. A monster is a thing he IS.
As Poseidon’s son, he asks his father to kill the 600 men who have ransacked his home and beat on him. He doesn’t view his father as being wrong for this. In the same ways Ody and Telemachus don’t waste any time addressing the slain suitors later on. Poseidon is a monster of a god - it’s just a thing he is. Not even being stabbed 100 times is enough to repay the harm he’s done - to most everyone, not just Ody, but we are not asked to quantify that. Just live with it.
Circe has killed NUMEROUS men over the years. HER “good reason” is that something bad happened to her nymphs when she let a stranger in her islands. She doesn’t even promise that she WONT kill in the future - her song ends w the suggestion that the world may continue to need her to puppeteer! Because she does not exist to be “redeemed” - she is somewhat more reasonable and capable of empathy than even the likes Athena, who being a greater and more powerful god, does not have the one on one affection to her follows as Circe does. She’s a monster! It’s a label, a thing she IS.
So here we begin to ask; is it LOVE that gives people the capacity to do monstrous things? Because the cyclops loved his sheep friends, Poseidon loves his son, Circe loves her nymphs.
And by now you’re saying now wait a minute didn’t the Underworld Saga go over this? Why yes it did! And Odysseus decides to “become the monster” - he already IS one by the standards of the cyclops, Poseidon, Troy - they all see him as a monstrous being. But he accepts that, after being one in Troy, he held back and ruined the lives of his men, making him a monster to THEM. His “good reason” for being so!
He attempts very hard to be the General he was in Troy and prioritize them going home, sparing no sympathy towards his enemies - but in the Thunder Saga we see the gods further push him to be completely self-serving like they are. The sun gods cows are harmed, he sends Zeus in relation - his “good reason” being his friend were personally harmed.
Odysseus’s “good reason” is ultimately decided to be the same good reason he had to slaughter the Trojans - to get back home to his wife and son.
Like with the Cyclops sheep, Circe’s nymphs, The Sun gods cows, and Poseidons son, WE are shocked and made to feel some type of way about Odyseuss’s reasoning. Surely HIS personal suffering shouldn’t cost the lives of “innocent” men
but it does! It surely does.
He is a monster. It’s just a thing he IS.
Now, Odysseus spends the next seven years under the thumb of ANOTHER monster. And through calypso own reasoning, despite her tragic backstory, her “good reason” she IS a monster. She’s incapable of understanding why she wasn’t reciprocated. Incapable of empathizing with a human because as a god who has spent eternity alone, it stands to reason she, like all the other monsters mentioned before, prioritizes HER personal suffering over everyone else’s. In some versions she either kills herself or does spend the rest of eternity alone. She’s a monster. This is a thing she IS.
Now what the HELL does all this have to do with the suitors?
Odysseus started the musical a MONSTER. He’s worn different hats, but it is what he IS. It’s a label, not a moral critique.
ALL of the antagonists of every saga have a “good reason” NONE of them are ruthless for ruthlessness sake! It’s immaterial whether you agree with them or not, but to understand them for what they are.
Odysseus is the antagonist of the ithica saga, md while the suitors are the antagonist to him and his family, we see their fate form THEIR POV
The suitors could not have been depicted as “rude youthful men” like Telemachus. That Odysseus killing them should be shocking - a frightening condemnation of everything he’s done and became. But I ask once again - in what world are the suitors not implicitly set up as monsters?
Because again. They aren’t being rude for rudeness’s sake! They aren’t JUST eating Penelope’s food and sleeping in HER house. Them threatening Telemachus, as you propose, isn’t “enough” of a reason because they didn’t wake up one day beefing w this boy. Everything they do is for the express purpose of sexual violence towards the Queen of Ithaca, who upon assaulting, will make it so any one of them will be King.
You can’t separate the one from the other. You get a nonsense scenario. The whole REASON they’re there in the first place.
Even if you create a fanfic where 108 men wake up one day and raid the palace to slaughter the royal family with no intent of sexually assaulting either (because remember Telemachus is also the subject of Hold Em Down) and then fight amongst themselves to be the next king, but then isn’t that STILL a “good reason” for Odysseus to slaughter them?
Now I hear what you may be asking: but if all the monsters of the sagas, Odysseus included, have a “good reason” even though we might not agree with it, what kind of monsters does that make the suitors? Surely and clearly THEY aren’t doing what they’re doing for noble reasons.
I consider them akin to the 600 men who died under their captains command.
Because, as stated before. Odysseus views his actions in a Troy as his start of monstrosity. He did all that to finish the war and do back home. He ruined the lives of all Trojans.
So did his soldiers.
The only moment in time (even in the deleted songs) that the bulk of them repent about the war is in terms that it left them without food.
But glasses! They were just following orders!
Which is what one of the suitors suggest in song 38. Their serpents head is dead, THEY were just going with Antinous’ flow, they are innocent.
Like the 600 soldiers, the 108 suitors sacked a home that wasn’t theirs and harmed a wife and child - does them being the queen and prince pale in comparison to the hundreds of wives and children slain in Troy? Homer is a genius to ask us to see these parallels for what it is.
The suitors ARE monsters. That is simply what all 108 of them are. In the context of the story itself, their intent is to break Penelope’s will, commit martial rape, and become king of Ithaca. They aren’t there for kicks, they aren’t ignorant boys, they’re socially accepted adults abusing the hospitality rule with an express purpose.
So a GROUP of monsters are slaughtered by ANOTHER monster, and though in this instance we can argue it’s morally justifiable, it doesn’t take away from Odysseus’s fear of being rejected by his family. He has ruined the lives of the Trojans, his men, AND multiple gods! To get to this point. He IS a monster. And the story asks US, through Penelope, if he is still worth loving.
Seeing Penelope as merely his reward is so backwards and bizarre. It’s very clear that bad faith interpretations of her are based on objectifying her erroneously, when the narrative presents her as a fully developed character.
In the story both in the poem and the musical that the suitors ARE NOT her guests. She is being sequestered against her will.
In what world could the suitors be “just” murderers and not
.very clearly rapists? It’s BUILT into their motivation. You would have to change the very FOUNDATION of the Ithaca plot line and Penelope herself??? To say nothing of Telemachus’s role!
What’s the proposal here? That Penelope invited these suitors? That’s she’s actively looking for a replacement husband? Okay, again, that changes literally SO MUCH of the story, but wouldn’t that put Telemachus in a position where he too has to change? Does he resent his mother for doing this? Is he helping his dad out of spite or because he wants him back? How are we meant to view Penelope in this radically new and hip Epic the Musical? Is she savvy and in her right to choose a new boo? Okay
okay, so then
.you want Odysseus to be the only one unchanged and go axe crazy because
.hes jealous? He kills these upstanding men
.curtain call. That’s all folks!
Absurdity at its finest. You throw Penelope’s agency out the window. Her weaving and unweaving her loom is meaningless or simply doesn’t happen. Or maybe it’s that she wakes up one day and goes hey yknow what I WILL consider marrying one of these guys with no sense of dread and fear. Oh wait Oddy has killed then all! Never mind me feeling unsafe a week ago, he’s done a Bad.
Crazy.
It’s just
not going to end up making Penelope look like a well written female character if Jorge has done what you wanted! THAT would make her a mindless prop. You seem to think she is one, and that’s not the case. Historically, in fact!
She is a whole person in the poem and musical whether you understand it or not. You would have to argue so thoroughly why she sucks and let me assure you - there are entire DISSERTATIONs on why you’d be incorrect.
So, no.
No, you CANT take away the rape in Penelope’s storyline. It matters ALOT. It’s the ROOT of the matter! Could old school vegetales make something up that’s more to your sensibilities? Maybe at its peak but god, I couldn’t possibly come up with a draft that could reflect that. I won’t even try.
The rape aspect of the Ithica Saga isn’t unnecessary - it’s INTEGRAL to the plot. It can make you uncomfortable, but it’s BUILT into the royal family’s suffering whether it’s explicit or not! And it SHOULD be explicit! Because you seem to think because it usually isn’t, that the rape aspect isn’t there!
I cannot imagine coming to this kind of conclusion.
They are not random men going on a siege of the palace one day - you cannot “sanitize” the SUITORS because by the very merit of them calling each other THE SUITORS there is an implicit threat of sexual violence. Because Penelope doesn’t WANT suitors. She rejects them. They’re already violating her consent.
How the FUCK to do you censor the rape when it’s in every action they take? And I know what you’re saying: but didn’t Jorge censor the rape aspect that both Circe and Calypso commit towards him?
Further reading: suggests that ALLUDING to it is not the same as censoring, that it still FITS the PURPOSE of these characters in regards to Odysseus’s suffering under them. That after ambiguity, it is NECESSARY to make the rape aspect CLEAR in order to create both catharsis and MEANING at the end of the narrative. The THEME is still respected and present, it is not REMOVED. Please consider reading the linked follow up that answers this question.
In short.
It’s truly a matter of using one’s goddamn head when it comes to view fictional depictions of rape as “necessary” - because though some depictions can be presented BADLY, to suggest they should not EXISTS lends itself to rape culture. It silences the voices of victims. Its representation denied. Don’t talk about it, don’t even suggest it, because rape is bad.
It’s an action that happens to people. It’s a crime in civilized society. It’s a physical and psychological trauma that has always been. It happens daily, in fact. Though epic the musical is a source of entertainment for you, it doesnt exist solely for that purpose.
When Homer included it within his original oral story, he did so as a storyteller trying to get his audience to philosophize, not simply have fun.
I think we’ve come to some abysmal conclusion that men can’t write about these topics when we have historical evidence of at least one man knowing what the hell he’s talking about. And Jorge has done a phenomenal job even when he hadn’t depicted blatantly.
If you’re uncomfortable to the point of not wanting to see it at all, that is entirely on you, art and creative works allow us to explore these topics safely. Whether it’s from the POV of the assailant or one of the victims commenting on it, fiction is one of the only places we can talk about it and learn about ourselves in a way it doesn’t harm real people.
I don’t even want to BEGIN discussing all the losers who are still harassing Antinous fans or people who genuinely enjoy his song despite/BECAUSE of the subject matter. Its purpose in the story matters more than you policing how it’s presented and how it’s consumed. No amount of people enjoying themselves will take away the foundational POINT of the character and song. It’s perfect the way it is.
Like with the chaos that calypso discourse wrought, you cannot control how people treat a NOT REAL CHARACTER or the songs they sing - if it bothers you that one type of fictional villian is treated one way or another, it is on you to find likeminded people instead of going into others faces and pretending to be a self-righteous prick. You can throw whatever buzzwords you want, the CONTEXT these characters live in has nothing to do with how others want to play with them. If you don’t understand the difference between the two instances, fandom is certainly not for you and will not be changed to suit your sensibilities.
To end this post, I want to thank those who further asked me questions and bounced ideas off with me, and wow, what a phenomenal ending to a grandiose musical. I hope I can see it live, animated, streamed, developed into a game etc whatever form it takes now that the concept albums are published
Thank you all for engaging w my work💖
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stromblessed · 2 days ago
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this tweet is absolutely one of the milder ones i've seen on my feed which just proves i need to stop looking at twitter but this example of shipping goggles leading to basic misinterpretations of arcane season 1 scenes that are quite cut and dry thematically might be the straw that breaks my back
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what do you MEAN Viktor was being gentle. what do you MEAN viktor was calm. he was not. Viktor says "you... ordered this? why?" he's surprised, offended, and sounds almost betrayed at the idea that jayce would order the blockade. viktor is confused, then flabbergasted, then angry, then furious. there is a gradient between "gentle and calm" and "screaming spitting mad" and viktor is somewhere in the middle of that gradient, but just because he isn't screaming and yelling at jayce, that doesn't mean he was either gentle or calm
"what difference does that make?" is also not calm - it's showing that Jayce has not been fully mask-off prejudiced in front of Viktor before, and Viktor is so thrown that Jayce would and does take the mask off in this moment, showing that Jayce is not so different from the average prejudiced citizen of Piltover despite being Viktor's friend, that he is genuinely asking what is going through Jayce's head. Viktoris trying to make Jayce make some sense, but the words do still show confusion and distress
and then "I'm from the undercity" IS angry, now that Viktor realizes what Jayce is saying and why. he is not being gentle or calm or even all that understanding towards Jayce - Viktor is hurt and angry and he lashes out to make Jayce think twice about what he's just said, though the damage has been done because Jayce's words and actions have combined to move us and Viktor towards an understanding of who Jayce is and what he truly believes when his back is up against the wall
also i can't count how many times people have re-interpreted Viktor slapping Jayce's hand away as a cute funny thing he does, rather than an act of anger - frustrated, righteous anger
the reason reading this made me so frustrated is because it's one more step toward the broader fandom's continuing re-imagining of Viktor as a mild, sweet, often passive character
and to take it one step further in what i've observed, it helps re-imagine Viktor as someone who is versed enough in the prejudices Zaunites face on the daily to easily handle Jayce's prejudiced words and behavior. this serves not only to make Viktor sweeter, gentler, and frankly smaller than he is in canon - especially in season 1 - but also, depending on the day, may try to make Viktor more "perfect" and noncombatant, ignorant or completely separated from the concept of the Piltover/Zaun conflict, a more "ideal" activist (an aspect of his character that is implied in season 1 and then is unfortunately all but abandoned in season 2), or just more well-versed in Zaun vs. Piltover sociopolitics, which he simply is not. Viktor is both clever, and also a messier, less heroic character than all that, while still being a target of Jayce's prejudice directly but mostly, usually, indirectly. and Viktor does not perfectly understand this. he only knows and sees enough to be offended and frustrated throughout the story
there's having one's own interpretations of canon, and then there's mischaracterizing consistently and constantly, leading to the state of the fandom today where it's increasingly difficult to have nuanced conversations about characters like Viktor or Jayce. why not ship jay//vik but WITH Viktor's anger, the complications, and the messiness
or is that not an option now that the writing of season 2 glossed over any difficult social or political concepts that did exist in season 1
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simvanie · 1 day ago
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7 Sins Legacy - generation 5 (gluttony)
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Gulshan: You look gorgeous. Temperance: I did my best. After all, you did tell me to dress up for tonight... Which also made me curious. Why?
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Gulshan: I- ...just wanted to do something special for you. I made us one of my best dishes and even got the Von Haunt Estate Merlot, your favorite wine-
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Temperance: Wait. Gulshan: ...Yeah? Temperance: I need to tell you something. You know I haven't been feeling too well physically lately...
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Gulshan: Yeah, I know. Temperance: So I called the doctor yesterday. Just to be sure. And I told her my symptoms. And she uh...-
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-She told me to take a pregnancy test so she could rule out some causes if it was negative, and to make an appointment if it turned out to be positive... So I went to see her this afternoon. Gulshan: But she told you to see her if... IT WAS POSITIVE?!
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Temperance: Yes! I wanted to tell you in person when I got home, but I also didn't want the news to completely overtake what you've planned for tonight. Gulshan: No, don't worry. I- wow... I know we've discussed having kids at some point, I just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon-
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Temperance: Wait, there's more... Literally. The doctor had me get an ultrasound to check if everyting is alright, which luckily is the case, and then she found out that... Gulshan, we're having twins.
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Gulshan: Tw- TWINS?! But I only ordered one! I mean- one at a time at least!
Temperance couldn't help but laugh. And seeing her so happy about the news that she's pregnant seemed to help calm the stress Gulshan could suddenly feel in his chest.
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Temperance: I know! I was surprised too! Although we both should've known that especially you don't always get what you order- Lord Hamlet: Oink? 🧐
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Gulshan: AH! Hamlet! God, you scared me... Don't look at me like that. We discussed this! You know that you ending up being the wrong order is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Look, right now isn't really the best time-
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-I left some food for you in the kitchen. And I promise that I'll give you lots of cuddles tonight if you stay there until your mom and I are done here, okay? Now go and see if you can find what I made for you.
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Lord Hamlet: OINKOINKOINK! 😃 Temperance: See? You have nothing to worry about. One baby or two, I can already tell that you'll be an amazing dad.
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Gulshan: That's not- ...what I'm worried about. The restaurant isn't financially where it should be and now we're going to have two kids. TWO, Temperance. That means we'll have to get everything double. Double the clothes, diapers, toys-
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-How can I be sure that we'll be able to give them everything they deserve? Temperance: You worry too much, you know that? Trust yourself. We'll make it work, I know we will.
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Gulshan: ...I'm sorry, it was just a lot to take in all at once. But you're right- Whatever it takes, we'll make it work. I love you, Temperance. There is no one I'd rather do this with than you, and that's why I want to ask you something...
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lavmana · 1 day ago
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So because I love tables I made some tables! I'll link the full thing at the end but here's the (semi-readable) table of ships! (I did have to guess some of the names)
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(I apologise for how small it is this is the best I can do in this case)
However probably more interesting is looking at the numbers between various relationship types! So going in order we have the Exes:
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With an average of 2.111 repeating, Twilight and Trixie are doing some HEAVY lifting here. Without them the average would be 1.75 so congratulations to them for being the most... something. Regardless it's also quite funny to me that the main difference between a '3' ex and a '1' ex is basically if it is het or not. (This is not a judgement, I'd do the exact same). The main exception being Trixie and Rarity who are the only 2 here which I think puts them firmly in the "not my thing but I support it" category.
Otherwise this mostly makes sense! You'd either put exes down as "canon relationships that I do NOT want" or "They'd totally be a fling but regret it" which only really lends itself to the lower side of numbers!
Also lol fluttercord L + ratio + Tree Hugger wins + the 0 stands for 0 bitches. I swear I'm a nice person in real life please don't take this seriously.
Okay next Queer Platonic relationships or QPs as I'm calling them cause it sounds like "cuties":
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Welcome to the realm of averages. To address the exceptions I need to admit I have no idea what the... tissue(?) cutie mark is that's attached to cheese sandwich, so I'll just hope it's an OC that I don't know and support it! Otherwise Trixie and Sunburst get a 1 I assume because they had to be connected to complete the platonic square going on between Trixie, Starlight, Sunburst, and Thorax(?). On that note the main QPs occur between the mane 6 (especially Pinkie Pie my platonic queen), and that square. This is also Bubbles main spot so take a moment to appreciate her then keep reading.
With an average of 2.231 this does make sense given most of what makes up these links are filling in polycules which are supported but not a main ship.
Next the era of Romance:
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"Gee Twilight how come you get 6 girlfriends, 3 exes, 2 QPs, and a wife?" Respect to my girl for pursuing ONLY romantic relationships with her besties. However the real star is secretly Rainbow Dash who has no links going below 3 (within the mane 6) awarding her the prize of most shippable pony! Congrats Rainbow! Twilight does still win the most links with 12.
This is by far the most popular category for a link to fall into. The Mane 6 really do shine here with Twilight Rarity and RD all having plenty of spots here. We also enter the higher numbers with hilariously the only 5s being Mordecai and Rigby (good for her) and AJ and rarity which is a real range.
There's probably too much here to comment on anything properly but definitely the most fun to look through, especially with all the 4s.
And now... mawiage!
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omg did I actually write person instead of pony? I cannot believe myself right now, this is my greatest shame.
Anyway with an average of 4 (4.375 without Mudbriar) we have achieved our highest rated category! Of course this makes sense, if you think two ponies have high enough chemistry to be married, you probably also think they have good shipping potential you enjoy. This gives us most of the 5s and RD getting TWO wives.
Maud Pie really brings things down here with her husband, apologies to my ace king but you have been voted off the island. In the mean time we can basically spot the top tier ships in here with Twipie, appledash, flutterdash, and trixie x starlight! So if you wanna get on Zigo's (I'm assuming this is your legal name) good side depict these ships!
Weird Al is also in here. He got a 3 so good for him.
As for my own thoughts I actually am a big fan of this chart! Beyond like a few numbers slightly up or down 1 rank I basically agree with it! It's cool to see where the differences lie but I've talked way too much to keep yapping so bye!
And that mostly summarizes some thoughts from this graph! I very much enjoyed making these tables so if anyone ever makes something like this again I will keep putting them into LibreOffice and comparing the data I find! You can see the full tables here:
It's a .ods file because that's what libreoffice uses.
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headcanon relationship chart for the mane 6. for some undefined amount of time after the show
i am not trying to lend undue legitimacy to the institution of marriage. or devalue queer platonic relationships. these are just different types of relationships. obviously.
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