#its just that i genuinely don't understand people who shove their kid into as many activities as possible to get away from them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

withered--s0uls · 5 months ago

Note

You dont come off as too emotional at all here, no worries. /gen

I decided to add us taking apart this confession to this already existing thread, I hope that's okay. I feel it's more coherent that way.

Now, I'll start this by saying we went back and forth between whether to cover this as "singlet"sona Souls or as MoonFalls System Souls. Eventually we settled on that being fully transparent about this is probably the best. This is probably the most open we will be on this blog regarding the system for a while.

So therefore; this is written under collaboration of Golden , N, as well as another alter who doesn't wish to be named.

"But its biased if an N fictive covers this!!!" - no it's not. I'm source separated, the only thing I share with my source is my name and headspace appearance. I'm my own person. And regardless on whether or not I'm biased, I have two other alters with me who will give me their thoughts as I write this post. So before Anon comes into our inbox to cry about my presence here, I reccomend you first reading this post.

We will be taking apart this ask piece by piece. So let's get this started:

"Stop shoving this heteronormative shit"

There are plenty of queer parents with children, and I'm not just speaking queer mlw couples, but also mlm & wlw couples. So please enlighten me on how having children is "Heteronormative"?

Also I'd like to add here that Nuzi scenes continuously use Bi-Lighting. Whilst neither character is confirmed Bi, I find it really odd to ignore a lighting tactic typically used to imply & code this. Queer m/f couples exist, don't forget that.

"[...] want to have a few brats in a 'happy, distant future'?"

So first of all, the use of the term "brats" already will make whoever you're presenting your opinion to skeptical. Especially with what's to come in your later words! A "brat" is an insulting term used for "badly behaved" kids. Now, why would you instantly assume all kids are badly behaved? In fact, a lot of kids will act in a way they feel they are expected to behave. So if you repeatedly tell a kid that they're a "brat" or "bad kid" then it might lead to the child thinking that's what they truly are, and fall into a pattern of fulfilling that expected stereotype due to thinking there is no use to try and change your mind.

Aside from that, the term "brat" is also often used in ableist ways towards autistic kids, kids with ADHD or otherwise neurodivergent kids. Neurotypical adults, or even Neurodivergent adults who have ableist beliefs, see ND traits as "misbehavior" and "causing trouble" when reality that is in no way the kids intention and they may genuinely not understand what they did wrong. Looking at your second point, I dare make the assumption your use of this term likely has ableist ties.

Moving on as to not drag this on for too long:

"[...] someone like Uzi, who can't act normal and barely can take care of herself without n [...]"

My apologies to ask this, anon, but are we watching the same show? Uzi is highly independent . Her and N just both have gone through a lot in their lives and are helping each other heal. This is a good thing in friendships and relationships! They understand each other and respect the others boundaries. Are you genuinely upset to see a healthy dynamic on screen?

As for the "can't be normal" & "barely being able to take care of herself" I also wish to add: the concept of "normal people" is inherently ableist. Everyone is different, many people are disabled one way or another. We are Neurodivergent and all our life our surroundings told us to "act normal", "stop being a weirdo" and that we "chose to be bullied". Why you may ask? Undiagnosed ADHD & possibly autism. We genuinely did not understand how we were different from other kids, we didn't understand why we were "wrong". The inability of our surrounding adults to offer help unfortunately caused long term damage, as you probably figured out by the fact we are a system. Similar to Uzi, we experienced bullying for it our entire school life. We also had bad experiences for it at home, but I rather not deep dive too far into it.

Many disabled and mentally ill people struggle to care for ourselves, that doesn't make us any less people though! We still deserve to get help and support to be able to live as functional of a life as possible, and we deserve to have kids if we so wish. Would you rather have a kid in a loving household with disabled parents, or a neglectful or abusive household with able bodied parents? Disabled families may do things a little differently than able bodied ones, but that doesn't make them any less able to care for each other.

"She most likely would be an aggressive mother if they, or something else, annoys her."

Please explain your reason for that. Quick! And without ableism!

Uzi is coded to have BPD. We have BPD. So let me walk you through this.

People with BPD are commonly stigmatized as abusers, manipulators, untrustworthy and more.

I don't want to turn this into an analysis of Uzis mental health, if you're interested in us going over her BPD symptoms, feel free to come to our inbox and we might do that.

Uzi has shown no signs whatsoever of being an abuser. "But she shouts 'Bite Me!' at everyone!!" I hear you try and type right now. So before you yell into the void again, let's go over this, shall we?

Uzi was neglected by her father as a result of his grief. She was bullied at school and didn't have anyone to trust. She's not used to people caring for her (eg. Thad being Nice, N being genuinely caring, Khan suddenly trying to improve etc) -- her being constantly on a defense is a mental thing. She's trying to protect herself from getting hurt.

As she grows closer with N, we see her catchphrase go from a more agitated & irritated tone to a more slightly annoyed but lighthearted tone. Ep1 Uzi vs Ep5 Uzi say it very differently, and for good reason. Ep 5 Uzi has started healing.

Also people just have silly quirks like that, its normal. We tend to tell people "I'll bite you" bc either we care about them and express affection in a way of not wanting to say "love you", but also to express annoyance and frustration with people in a joking manner.

Uzi hasn't been shown to ever scream for absolutely no reason, when she raises her voice she always had a good reason.

"And N being Uzi's personal labdog, who didn't disagree or not once throughout the show, definitely won't help much his hypothetical children during any conflict."

That is an extreme mischaracterization of N, are you sure you are talking about canon N? Because this sounds like fanon N.

N, like Uzi, has a very traumatic background. So it makes sense they gravitate towards each other: they understand each other. N has actively been helping Uzi get better, episode 4 has a "therapy session" type scene that is a prime example of this.

And he has tried to de escalate conflicts Uzi has been in. Just because he doesn't yell at her doesn't mean he isn't interfering.

Little gestures like pulling Uzi away from V when Uzi was agitated in Ep2 are in fact him "helping during conflict".

If they were to have kids he would separate them and calm both parties down, based on the behavior we see in the show, before trying to resolve the conflict calmly together. Because if you haven't picked up on it; N is big on solving issues as a team.

Also we do see him interact with kids more than once. Cyn being his little sister figure and hero the blame & punishment himself to protect her. And him reassuring Beau during Ep 6.

N is far more likely to tell Uzi to let out whatever anger she has with only himself present to protect their hypocritical kid, than to just watch and enable her. He also would be reassuring the kid that emotions are normal and them being upset is fine, but to not let it get them to their head because anger and hate can be dangerous.

Then again, that's all hypothetical .

Conclusion:

Anon uses a lot of ableist terminology, and is acting really agitated and provocative. This is not how you should present your opinions.

It is absolutely okay to personally feel like Uzi wouldn't want to have kids, especially given her background. Many traumatized and abused people are scared to have kids because "what if I hurt them like that? I don't want that!". So you are just out here feeding into those intrusive thoughts of people who share Uzis experiences.

You dont need to make up some huge excuse full of mischaracterized claims and ableist accusations just to say you don't see Uzi having kids. Just say you personally don't like the idea and large it at that. The muting of tags and words exists for a reason, just mute all tags about Uzi fankids and let people have fun instead of completely demonizing bpd just to have an excuse to complain.

I apologize if in the second half we got a little less calm. Someone in co front was a bit more closer to front than earlier tonight when we typed the first half. Originally they wanted to be tge one to go over this themselves and type this, but their way of speech can become a lot more mocking & making fun of people who act like Anon. So instead this was primarily written by Golden & N to keep the language more neutral.

Keep in mind, we are not a medical professional; simply a disabled person with BPD & other mental susorders. For more in depth information on anything discussed here please also look into articles by professionals alongside speaking to the disabled & mental health communities!

Edit, June 15th - 7:47 pm CET:

Fixed multiple typos & some missed words

Everyone says that Uzi would be a good mother, that she won't repeat her parents mistakes, would be loving, patient and caring bla bla bla...

Firstly - stop shoving this heteronormative shit, or universe will floop if female MC wouldn't want to have few brats in a "happy distant future"? Uzi most likely won't want any, she's definitely has different priorities than raising someone.

Second - someone really thinks that someone like Uzi, who can't act normal and barely can take of herself without N, would be a good mother? She most likely would be be an aggressive mother, who screams at her kids if they, or something else, annoys her. And N being Uzi's personal lapdog, who didn't dissagree or not side with her at least once through all the show, definitely won't help much his hypothetical children during any conflict.

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

Text

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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justsalpals · 2 years ago

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(spoilers for AI: the Somnium Files, but not for the Nirvana Initiative as it isn't out yet at time of writing)

This has been a long build coming, but I've got a goddamn bone to pick. Overall the story has its problems, but I can overlook them to simply Vibe and have a good time with my video game. It's not the type of game you're supposed to get nitpicky about, and I respect that.

But on the right side of the flowchart, in the path leading to either the Iris end or true end, Date's character gets fucking slaughtered.

I love Kaname Date. I love him so much. He's a bit too disrespectfully horny for my (and most people's) tastes, but he's actually extremely deep as a character. He's genuinely really smart and good at his job, honing in on Saito immediately after every murder with evidence to back it up.

He's goofy, loves puns, is always breaking the tension with something dumb and/or horny, but is extremely professional when it comes to his work. The interogation scene with Saito!Iris feels masterful. When speaking to Mayumi, he is patient and kind while still upholding picture perfect professionalism. He gets help from Aiba sure, but it feels like a give and take. It's not just her solving everything, they bounce off each other and have an actual partnership. It's a conversation, not a lecture. They cover each other's blind spots. He escapes into his work to push aside any nasty feelings looking overhead, throwing himself into murder investigation so he doesn't have time to think about his friend being DEAD.

And of course, his entire relationship with Mizuki. Not trusting himself to be the family she needs, but unable to sit by and watch this little girl in a bad situation. Considering Renju and Shoko (or at least Renju) his friends, but putting his foot down when so many people would just pretend not to see. Inviting her into his home, giving his bed, carving out a place in his life where she can fit because she deserves to have somewhere safe deserves to have someone she can shout at and mock and just be a KID to. I could write fucking paragraphs about their relationship and the Mizuki ending, but I will refrain.

The right side of the flowchart, the "true" ending, take that all away from him. Suddenly he feels like a watered down ghost of himself, with a terminal case of Protagonist Syndrome. Aiba has to explain everything like he's a child. So much of his personality feels muted down and bland as the game chooses instead to focus on the mystery. Which, fine, even if I don't like it I can understand why character sometimes takes a backseat to plot. But the introduction of Falco feels like a man we don't even know. There are shared components of course, and I can see the described past fitting well enough to the Date we know. But suddenly revolving his whole life around the Sagans feels like he's just throwing away the life he led as Date, and I know I'm not the only one who feels Mizuki got unfairly shoved aside in that timeline.

I hate right side of the flowchart Date so much. I miss my surprisingly competent, wise cracking, accidental father so much and he was TAKEN from me and the accepted true end has a pale imitation. The Sagans are lovely, but this has made me bitter towards them and those wonderful ladies have done nothing to earn my ire. They do not deserve this.

Tune in next time to hear my opinions on all the people Date has slept with, the verdicts may shock you.

#ai the somnium files #kaname date

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sagefzy · 3 years ago

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PART ELEVEN: THE PERFORMANCE

perfectionism | prev | next

After sitting down for about ten minutes, Atsumu redirected his attention to the now dimming lights. The once lit up auditorium was now only being illuminated from the light appearing on the stage. There was almost an entrancing aura in the room, everyone gathered in the same room for the sole purpose of watching people showcase their musical talent. Though completely different activities, he couldn't help but be reminded of the similar feeling when watching a volleyball match.

Although Suna had mentioned to him many times that he and you had two very distinct and different personalities, he couldn't help but disagree. From the little he'd observed, you both had strong passions that you had dedicated your whole lives to. Even though you two may approach situations differently. You both have a mutual understanding of the thrill that comes with pushing yourself to the limit for something.

He had never really chosen to get to know another person on a deeper level. Of course, there was Osamu, but that didn't really count since that was his brother. Additionally, his friendship with Suna was only a byproduct of Osamu's friendship with him. Atsumu constantly had girls throwing themselves at him, and even though he enjoyed basking in their attention, he knew that they were only in love with the idea of him.

Outside of volleyball and his family, he never got the chance to have a close relationship with someone, but that was something he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of achieving his dreams. Not to mention, he always had the lingering fear that, in the end, people only hung out with him to get close to Osamu. He really hoped that you were an exception to that case.

The competition had to at least been going on for an hour now, Atsumu thought to himself. When he imagined attending a piano competition, he envisioned a relaxing show that he could attend for free, but that wasn't the case. Instead, he spent his time watching musicians attempt to play grand, complex pieces to perfection, but at most they only achieved mediocre performances. Just how long was it going to take for you to come on stage?

"Now presenting contestant 105, l/n y/n. Playing piano concerto number one in E minor, opus eleven: two. Romance larghetto."

His eyes were directed to your figure that now walked onto the stage. Your head held high, your footing confident. Atsumu grinned, noticing that you were sporting that perfect smile of yours. He watched as you took a deep breath while fixing your stool.

Before your hands touched the keys, he observed how, for a quick second, your eyes changed from confident to anxious when studying the crowd. Your eyes were glued in the same spot briefly, however they were quickly averted back to the instrument. Could it be that large crowds made you anxious? No, it couldn't be, you seemed way too confident walking out on stage. He wondered just what made you apprehensive.

He continued to watch you intently.

Your fingers graced the keys. They quickly found their tempo and danced to the rhythm. You didn't miss a single beat nor note as you played. Everything was played to perfection, just as it always was.

Your smile disappeared, only to be replaced with a face of precision and focus. Your hands produced a soft melody, making the sound glide into his ears. No previous performer enchanted the audience like you did. The notes danced and swayed in the air.

Your song had so much power to it. It was as if a mystical spell was casted in the room the minute that you started to play. Atsumu's eyes widened as he watched you get lost in the song. There was absolutely no hesitation as you played. Your body was completely in tune with the instrument.

Although you weren't saying anything, you were telling a story to everyone in the room, captivating them. It was all perfect. Your rhythm, notes, tempo, and tone- it was exactly as written on paper. You quite literally were playing the piece perfectly. However, the story you were telling with your music, wasn't quite your own, but rather the composer.

You were guaranteed a first place win since you were playing a technical piece perfectly, but it lacked the emotion. You played it exactly as the composer intended, nothing more, nothing less.

Atsumu recognized the seemingly stoic look on your face. It wasn't something he could decipher easily at first, but now hearing you play, he could understand it. You were so obsessed, so intent with playing it perfectly, something he often found himself partaking in when in an important match. You were perfect, but at what cost?

There was no denying that you were extremely talented, certainly more talented than himself, he thought. But, he could only imagine how much more captivating you could be when expressing your own emotions with your talent.

As your song neared its end, the whole room stood up in applause. You stood up, knowing you played it perfectly, but you still felt empty. You remember a time where you used to love savoring the gratification from an overwhelmed audience. Now, however, you stood in front of everyone clapping for your perfect performance, and you couldn't feel less accomplished. Perhaps you were being too hard on yourself. When did playing piano turn into a chore?

You glanced to the top of the audience, the same place you were looking before the performance, and locked eyes with your dad. The same unreadable expression was present on his face. He shook his head and walked out the exit door. Your chest grew heavy, trying its best to hold in your tears in front of the audience.

You bowed in front of the audience, trying your best to conceal the emotions running rampant in you. You swiftly paced yourself offstage, running past your mentor who was there for support and into the backstage bathroom.

Your back leaned on the heavy door, all of your bottled feelings washing out. You looked at your face in the mirror, placing two hands over your heated cheeks. Your eyes started to sting, but you still stared into the reflection. Anger, disappointment, humiliation, vulnerability, and most of all, loneliness. You let it all spill out at that moment.

There was so much more you wanted to do with your music, but at that moment no amount of praise could convince you that it was worth it. All in life you ever wanted to do was make your dad proud, show him that you are worthy enough to be your mother's daughter. Was anything you did ever going to be good enough for him?

"y/n, it's Haruka-sensei." A voice from the door knocked. "I thought you played the piece perfectly, I'll be in the lobby, so come out when you're ready."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your hands made their way to your face again, this time cleaning up the tears and smudged mascara. Looking up one last time, you smiled into the mirror. Over the years, you convinced yourself that if you faked being happy enough, eventually you will be. It's not like anyone could tell the difference from it anyways.

You opened the door slowly, trying to gain your composure again. You bumped into many kids roaming the halls backstage looking anxious to perform. The maze of people was something you were now used to navigating.

The lobby was empty with the exception of your sensei and dad, everyone else still in the auditorium watching the final stretch of the performances. Haruka-sensei and your dad didn't get along for the most part, which is why you weren't surprised when you saw them standing in completely opposite areas of the room.

Your dad was first to approach you. "What did you think that was?" His voice was laced with alcohol. Your gaze met his. His eyes filled with resentful judgement. "You think you can get away playing like shit and make your way to the top?"

Droplets of tears fell to the ground once more. "I asked you a question!"

You looked to the ground. "No, I know I'll never be good enough." You sniffed harshly, still trying to maintain your composure, but failing. You hated crying in front of your dad. It was arguably the worst feeling in the world, like you were being isolated in a dark void with nothing but disappointment.

He watched you cry. You could feel his gaze burning into the top of your head, which still faced the ground in fear. All of a sudden, you felt a harsh grip on your wrist that was sure to leave a bruise.

"And don't you ever forget that," He spat. "I bet your mother is even more repulsed by you than I am. It's a joke that you think you'll ever be anything great." He shook your arm firmly, forcing you to see the aggravation displayed on his expression.

"That's enough," Haruka yelled, shoving your dad to the side. She might've been a small lady, but she sure did know how to stand her ground. "I can't stand hearing you spread such bullshit hatred to your own daughter. You make me sick. Why don't you go and get yourself even more drunk. Maybe you'll wake up and find yourself passed out on a park bench."

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. He left the building, leaving just you and Haruka.

"Listen, y/n, I think you played beautifully. Your technique was perfect, and with just a few tweaks here and there, I'm sure you'll be more than ready to take the top spot at nationals." She praised. She gave you a genuine smile and pulled you into a hug.

Feeling overwhelmed, you started to cry for the third time that hour. "Shh- don't worry about your dad, he's just a loser-asshole that projects all his issues onto you." You felt comforted by her embrace. Although she'd only known you for about a month now, Haruka had quickly become one of your favorite piano mentors. She had the loving presence and embrace of a mother, something that was so foreign to you at first.

After your heavy tears and emotions subsided, you re-entered the backstage hallways. You sat in the corner of the hallway, directing your attention to a boy- who couldn't have been any older than twelve. He sat next to his mom, holding her hand as he kept on muttering about his nervousness.

You watched as the mom eased his nerves with a single statement. "My child, I love you now, and I'll still love you after you go out and perform." The words warmed your heart. The affection from a mother was a distant memory in your mind. You could never recall a moment you were sad around your mother. Why did she have to leave so soon?

Before the kid could respond, he was called out to perform. He hugged his mom quickly and scrambled to the stage. You sat there lost in your thoughts, imagining what life would be like if your mother didn't pass away so early on.

You sighed. There was no use in fantasizing about a false reality even if it brought you temporary peace from your discomfort. What only mattered now was the present moment.

You noticed that the boy was back, a giant grin plastered on his face as he met up with his mother, it'd only be a few minutes until the winners were announced. Soon enough, all of the competitors were asked to reconvene at the stage.

You looked out at the audience again, but this time it was different. Rather than feeling anxious when meeting the gaze of someone, you felt content. Atsumu flashed his famous smirk and displayed a thumbs up, only to be quickly smacked down by Osamu. The two seemed to get into an argument after that, making you look at Suna who was now a giggling mess. The whole event made you laugh, momentarily forgetting about the heavy reign of disappointment on your shoulder.

However, the three of them got their act together once the top three standings were being announced. This part always made you fidgety. The uncertainty of the outcome always twisted your stomach in knots. Once second and third place were announced you took a deep breath, hoping that you were to be crowned first.

"And-" Here it was, you thought. The moment that decided whether or not you'd go to nationals. "-first place for the Hyogo Regional piano competition goes to-" You could feel your heart beating out of your chest. Your nails dug into your arm, the tension eating away at you. "-l/n y/n."

You almost jumped to the front of the stage when they announced your name. You did it, despite what your dad said, you did it. And it didn't matter what hateful words of disappointment he spat at you because in that very moment, you were enough.

Atsumu watched as you were handed a certificate. A radiant smile now present on your face. This smile was different, though. The one he was used to seeing was the seemingly perfect one, the one so perfect it was almost fake. The one you wore right now was one of genuine, heartfelt joy. Was this the real you? Just what else were you hiding under that perfect smile?

Osamu tapped his shoulder. "Stop staring at yer little girlfriend and let's go to the lobby before it gets too crowded. Suna said we're going to go out for udon."

"Yeah, yeah 'm coming," He muttered, never once taking his eyes off of your smile.

fun facts !

Osamu and Atsumu are notorious for always being late for everything, whether it be 10 minutes to an hour.

Atsumu daydreams when he's bored, only paying attention to what he wants to.

Every time Osamu cooks, he always puts on music in the background and it always differs depending on his mood.

perfectionism ©

smau written by @sagefzy

taglist: open just send an ask :)

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years ago

Text

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

#jason voorhees x reader #jason x reader #friday the 13th #blood #violence #slatra #lmao #my writing #fiction #horror #slasher x reader #feral reader #slasher x fem!reader #reader insert #slasher fic #slasher x reader fic #jason voorhees #friday the 13th fic

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crystallos-sol · 4 years ago

Text

Hey have another meta on Gray & Natsu because I don't think I went deep enough.

Gray is traumatized and can't even voice his emotions sometimes. Natsu understands him WITHOUT any issues even during this time.

Don't believe me? Here look at this:

Natsu knows Gray just basically said:

" I care about you please take care of yourself "

I'm so emotional about these two because they are great and they understand each other on a deeper wavelength than I have ever seen within Fairy Tail.

I'll throw in multiple examples for you to compare but please come up with your own. Rewatch the show or Read the manga if you want to, there's so many examples that I cannot fit into one post so I have to suffer with a few. (Not including Happy has I think it's best to put people that aren't his kid,,,,)

First up: Lisanna.

I'm not hating on the ship at all. I'm picking people CLOSEST to Natsu & Gray. And she was essentially close to Natsu before her death. They raised Happy together and had a secret hideout for fucks sake.

Lisanna has I recall from the episodes we had of her, was close with Natsu. But something changed. Because her death hurt Natsu and changed him into a different person. That's clear to see. But her death drove a wedge between them and changed the entire relationship for good.

Lisanna was Natsu's friend, back before her death but however I believe that we do not know much of her outside of her death and how it affected Fairy Tail. We also do know about her Family and how it hurt them. But not about Lisanna, from what we can gather from the many episodes of Fairy Tail she is kind hearted and genuinely loves her family and doesn't want to lose them again. (Her reactions to her siblings being thrown into danger.)

But again her death drove fear and grief into Natsu and that's why him and Lisanna aren't exactly close anymore, because Natsu runs from his feelings. It's also hard to talk to someone you haven't seen since you where a teenager.

Up next who is/was close with Gray: Erza. We know Gray ran after her and helped to fix her tears, even making a child's promise about it. We also know, Gray was Erza's first real friend. Gray has a child was close with Erza in that regard. I do believe Erza shoved him away like she does with everything in response to what happened to her. (But that's a post for another time.)

Gray is still close with Erza, but due to Erza never feeling as if she can stop being Titania he is not as close to her as he is Natsu.

Lucy, who is one of Natsu's best friends, is actually close with Natsu. But unlike with Gray Natsu usually is (Ignoring Mashima's horrible writting between for now because that's a WHOLE OTHER issue) saving her or protecting her. At least it was like that until recently when Lucy finally got the character development and upgrade she deserves.

Lucy is close to Natsu but Natsu also doesn't want to lean on her. Yes you can qoute multiple instances and scenes where it appears he is leaning on her. But however with this you have to take into account the period of time Natsu has known her. The trust issues Natsu already has and previous trauma he has gotten and even new trauma!

Now it gets worse because this is dipping a little into Mashima's terrible characterization and understanding of how people function and feel. Especially women. Take Lisanna and Lucy, if you think about it they are essentially the same fucking character. Both are kind, stubborn, where hurt by someone they love, left their home behind for a number of years, painted has a badass while also simultaneously being soft and delicate.

Sound familar?

Because that's basically the Mashima guide to write a female character. Now what really gets me is the final thing that really cements it. They both have been/are in the supporting role for Natsu. Don't you dare go saying: But Lucy is the main character!

You, like the rest of is because Mashima wrote her like shit, didn't even know that until the interview or you saw that Fairy Tail fact post. The majority of us thought it was Natsu. Because in reality Mashima did NOT start writting her like a main character. He did not give her the good motivation every single damn Fairy Tail Character has.

Lucy & Lisanna have the same number of things that make up their characterization, and yes so do a number of Fairy Tail characters. But that's not the point. The point is that Lucy reminds Natsu of Lisanna in some ways and Natsu cannot bring himself to trust and lean on her fully like he can with Gray. It is not an attack on Nalu. Nalu is a fine ship if only written correctly (aka: Not Mashima's Version Which Is Horrible And Toxic But That's Another Meta For Another Time.).

This is a post about how Gray and Natsu are close. That's it. Natsu cannot bring himself to fully trust Lucy and lean on her comfortably without 1) forcing himself, 2) it happening outside of his control because of past trauma which by the way knowing Natsu he did not do anything about it and most likely bottled it up.

Wow that was a long session on Lucy but in summary: Natsu is traumatized and is not mentally healthy like the entirety of the Guild.

Now, the last one, which I'm sure you can GUESS. It's Juvia. Because some people think that Gray and Juvia are the " closest people! " And " he doesn't let anyone really touch him other than her! "

1) Bullshit. And 2) Bullshit. Here's why:

Juvia is a toxic character who stalks and uncomfortably idolizes Gray to the point it's fucking ridiculous. There are multiple scenes of her following (stalking) Gray around and being jealous of Lucy. Even declaring her a " Love Rival ".

This is probably because: Gray was the first person that was decent to her. (She was bullied for who knows how long and involved in a toxic guild + an abusive relationship.) Before you say shit about Gajeel: He's not nice. Gajeel before all of this, was an asshole, now he is nice which is pretty cool and a great character development. Back then? He was not nice.

Which brings me to Gray. Who even is okay with being stalked, being grabbed randomly and having someone so obsessed with you they made fucking dolls of you? No one. Before you argue: But he doesn't pull away from her!

Gray is most likely touch starved. Considering his entire background and general tendency to not receive hugs or any sort of affection usually. My evidence for this? Myself. I am touch starved and I often react bad to touches from strangers or creepy people but I also have a late reaction time. Because my body is saying: Oh touch???? And my brain is screaming: No.

He also could be trying to be decent. Which is all he did in the first place. He could be trying to not hurt her feelings and yes you could say he hurt Mira's feelings when he called her stupid for betting on Natsu but he also was apologising and panicky because he didn't want to hurt her.

Also if I even have to explain further why being stalked and basically turned into a fetish and an object is a bad thing then clearly something is fucking wrong with you.

Gray however feels safe likely with Natsu, who's been there from the beginning, took on Deliora, fought too many people just because one of his friends are in danger, has repeatedly stopped Gray from using Iced Shell and was ready to Die with him.

Natsu in return probably feels safe and like he can trust Gray to handle himself because this man has been there since day one and even can take Natsu himself on with no problem. Natsu also probably is happy Gray is nothing like Lisanna or Lucy. Because Gray is Gray and he doesn't remind Natsu of anything traumatizing he's been through.

They both trust one another and stay by one another's side because they are both understanding that they aren't gonna leave. Because think about it, Gray has lost family and his mentor to death. He has suffered through that. You wanna know who's constantly beating death on its ass???? Natsu " I refuse to die " Dragneel.

Natsu has lost family by being abandoned and by Death. He got it both ways and he's suffering because of it. But Gray who's stubborn has shit and stood death in the face at a young age and screamed fuck you at the top of his lungs, wouldn't leave. Gray who fucking went through hell and back, destoryed his own infiltration mission just because Natsu Dragneel rolled up, Keeps Trying To Protect Him, Never once wants to lose Natsu. And Natsu knows that. Because Gray is his constant. Gray is that constant presence in his life he knows for a fact he can trust.

But idfk that's just my thoughts on them.

#fairy tail #ft #natsu dragneel #ft gray fullbuster #gray fullbuster #ft natsu dragneel #ft natsu #ft gray #also i guess this could be viewed has:#Gratsu #natray #because technically it does sound gay but it focuses more on them and relationships has a whole #not tagging example relationships or characters because its not the main focus

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georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

Text

More Than A Night Out

warning: Explicit content 18+ Only

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You sat behind the roped off a section of a smoke-filled bar in one of Vegas' most hectic hotels, sporting a fancy dress and feeling a bit anxious.

"I'm George. And you're who I'm supposed to be introducing myself to, right?" He stood leaning in close before you clad in a casual leather jacket with his hands shoved in his pockets. Reading body language had become a much more important part of this job than you'd once figured. But there was a difference between assessing and staring. And you had to catch yourself on the edge of openly gawking at the lean beauty who called himself George.

"Yes, yes, thanks for sparing some time for a chat." You smiled warmly, scooting to the corner of the curved red vinyl booth. George let his nervous grin flicker into a warmer expression as he slid in to meet the opposite corner of the table.

You were a writer for an independent magazine based out of New York. Your publisher had sent you all over America to interview all kinds of talented people of current pop culture. You were used to celebrities and their lingo, and you were used to the pseudo niceties these interviews came along with. After answering your questions with nothing but pride, your subjects would leave and go on being popular. It was your job to make them seem like normal human beings, with an overload of charm.

In your lap, a hardback notebook held all your hastily scribbled questions that you thought up in preparation for this moment. You were meant to ask George MacKay how his latest film had changed his life and about his rise to fame. You were supposed to get him to gush about acting and tell you some beautiful antidote no other interview had managed to hear the likes of. Your job tonight was to focus on George's latest project, 1917. But George asked the first question.

"So you've been doing this a while, huh?" The man with sky blue eyes asked. A waiter had breezed by, sliding a list of drinks for you pair to choose from.

"I only ask because the bio in your email was like, really impressive. I don't know if I'm worthy." George laughed, gazing at the beer list as you shrugged. You had conducted conversations with the likes of many old, jaded stars. Tonight was different. A young, spirited man sat across from you and his eyes were shining right into yours. You were completely unworthy.

"Don't worry. I'll only write exactly what you say." You smiled, eyeing the mixed drinks, but only ordering water when the waiter came back by.

"What's been your craziest interview?" George wondered, propping his chin in his hand as he looked to you like a boy in school, and you were a fireman on career day. You laughed out loud, because yes. You laugh because you were supposed to be asking the questions.

"I made Axel Rose cry." You grinned, peeking behind a strand of your hair to ensure this wasn't something you went around telling everyone. "He was the guest during a benefit for our magazine. I asked about his family and he just sort of lost it."

George laughed out loud, beaming at you. So far, this felt more like riffing with an old friend of a friend. You nearly forgot about the list of questions in your lap. But even after you cracked open your notebook, George still had more to say.

"With the right questions, I bet you get a lot of dirt." He rose a pale brow as if there was something he was trying to get you to understand. A code he wished you would crack.

"You should let me ask you a few." You mused, leaning in a little closer to establish your longing to get this show on the road. Not that you wanted the night to end sooner. You could have basked in the glow of his blinding smile for all time. But you were on a clock...

George watched your mouth move as you asked him about 1917. He looked you in the eyes when he told you his favorite memories from set. You watched his hands move around as he explained the impact that acting out such a tumultuous time period had on his personal and professional life. In the lulls in between conversation, when he paused to sip his lager, your eyes met each others. It was by far one of the more enjoyable nights of your career. He was easy to listen to and very lovely to look at.

When the clock struck midnight, and your notebook was filled with more information than you'd even consider finalizing, the night ended. With smiles and genuine thanks, you parted from the grotty Vegas bar. But as you made your way through the casino, you turned back to see George lingering near the elevators, watching you disappear into the crowd.

___

Up in your luxurious room, too nice for someone to stay in all alone, you checked your phone. You had a flight to catch in the morning, travel that would put you home right in time for the weekend.

But a dark email loomed at the top of your notification bar. Your flight had been delayed due to weather, a wicked snow storm had taken residence in New York. Seriously, this late in February? The airline had given you a limited few options for later flights, and you slumped on the downy hotel bed, booking the soonest flight out of this trashy city.

Looked like you'd be spending another day hanging around the hotel that felt more like a small city of its own. Luckily, you had something, rather; someone to write that would keep you pleasantly distracted.

___

Last nights silky was totally worth sporting in front of your modern-day movie star crush, but you were glad to be more comfortable this morning. After a long scalding shower, you slipped into reasonable leggings and an old band shirt that was a few sizes too large. This could pass as sporty, right? With thoughts of fashion draining from your head, you grabbed your laptop and started a lazy shuffle toward the lobby of the hotel.

You usually wrote in coffee shops, back home, but the lobby swarmed with tourists was a little too hectic for your liking. Luckily, you wandered to the opposite wing of the lodge and found a relatively cozy nook outside of a casino. It was too early for the swarm of gamblers to distract you with drunken cheers, but the stead buzz of well-groomed patrons coming and going from the bar was white noise music to your ears.

You nestled into a chaise lounge chair by a window and ignored everything besides your laptop screen. There was nothing that could stop you from spending a little too long scrolling through George's fan tag on Instagram. When you finally started to outline the story based on his interview, you were one hundred words from your limit of one thousand, and you still hadn't said everything you wanted. You could have gushed over his polite and charming nature long enough to take up every page of the magazine you worked for.

But you reigned yourself in, reworded for a while, and started to finalize the article when a passer-by disrupted your work for the first time in a couple of hours.

"Is that about me?" It was him.

"Oh my God." You laughed, clutching onto your laptop like an instinct. You were shocked to see George again; dressed in a fine-looking sweater that made your heart buzz with a silly warmth. You cursed your leggings and wondered why you were stupid enough to wear your old thrift store Bowie tshirt in public.

"Can I read it?" George grew a wicked grin, moving to sit at the foot of the chaise you occupied. You scrambled to straighten your poster as your heart speed up in search of an excuse. You really shouldn't let him do that- but you couldn't say no to his sweet face, especially when he was smiling right at you.

"Uh..." You glanced between George and the laptop you'd been staring at for far too long. You realized that you were one spell check away from sending the damn thing in. You pressed the spellcheck button in a flash, so you wouldn't have to lie. But no errors were found, and you were left with zero choice.

"Just know I shouldn't be doing this." You warned, scooting your laptop away with a cringe. George, in all his charm, waggled his brow at you as he leaned in a little closer to read your story. You held your breath at his silly expression and ceased to breathe the entire time his eyes locked onto your laptop screen.

"This..." George spoke up after a very scary bout of silence. He shook his head as his eyes scanned the page on your laptop, and you felt your heart begin to stall.

"You actually, like... listened to what I had to say," George smirked in unmistakable disbelief. "It's so much more than a Q&A. You drew conclusions and made our conversation into a story. It's perfect." George glanced up to you for the first time in a while, and his eyes were searing into yours.

"Geez," You chuckled nervously, digging your nails into the stitching on the cushion below you. "Thank you, George. I never really get feedback like that from anyone I write for." You realized. Sure, you're articles we're promoted by the people featured in them, but they hardly ever had a direct comment on your work.

"When is it coming out?" George wondered, leaning on his elbow, looking up toward you. You leaned toward the laptop that was the barrier between you and the pretty man, but were closer to him than ever before.

"I just have to change the font..." You noted, pressing buttons as you spoke. "open my email..." George's eyes eventually flickered from your face back to your screen. "and send it in."

"Would you like to do the honors?" You grinned, moving the cursor over the send button on the screen. George gazed back to you with a hearty chuckle but didn't waste much more time before clicking the send button for you.

"And now we wait." You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your waist as the handsome man smiled your way. Oh if you'd only put on a little lipstick...

"How should we pass the time, then?" George wondered in a curious lilt. "Oh, let's go drink one of those thirty-four-ounce margaritas to celebrate. It's the perfect occasion to day drink." Was he kidding? Because you weren't entirely sure if you were being punk'd or not, you tried to hide your wide-eyed reaction as you responded.

"I'm hardly dressed for the occasion." You grinned, shutting your laptop.

"If it's any consolation, that bar is empty right now, besides there's a lady asleep in the back in her clothes from last night." George pointed across the way. There we're people flooding the casino and taking their drinks to gamble. There was no way you were about to pass up this opportunity.

In the blink of an eye, you were sitting at a bar top, turned toward each other to share a ridiculously overpriced thirty-four-ounce strawberry margarita out of honest to God silly straws.

"This should actually be illegal."

"Do you remember the prohibition, George?" You laughed, watching the blended ice travel through the purple looped straw as you sipped.

"Of course not." George laughed incredulously. "Just because I lived through the war doesn't mean I'm that old."

"Ha ha." You mused, wondering why it was so easy to be around George. You'd just met him, but from the moment he opened his mouth, it was like you'd been chatting together for years. It was like he saw past the questions you were being paid to ask, and heard you asking them. Maybe just because you really did want to know his answers.

"I want to know what you've lived through," George demanded, taking a turn to drink out his straw from the margarita you'd been sharing. He'd been asking questions like that since you'd met him, and your chest blossomed with nerves as he peered up at you through his lashes. In your nervous scramble to give George an answer, your brain settled on a story about the first time you met Will Smith.

"Wait, wait, wait." George broke away from his green silly straw and held a dismissive hand out in front of you.

"We're off the record now, y/l/n. I want to know the real shit! Ya know, the last time you cried. Your Chipoltle order." George was waving his hands as if his questions were obvious. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back and relishing the moment you realized how lucky you were to be living in this moment.

So you reluctantly told him some things. You couldn't justify giving your best details away, but you liked the idea of a stranger knowing you the worst thing you did in second grade, and a silly trademark your family coined. George kept his brilliant gaze set on you, and you could almost see your own stories coming to life in his eyes. He was actually listening to you.

The focus on you was becoming a bit too overwhelming, so you shifted to ask George a few more questions, tipsy enough to pry for a few of the same antidotes George had asked you for. After laughing over a few fun facts about his hometown and the time he ran away from his mum in the supermarket, you both settled into silence. You were busy trying to compute how wild this afternoon had turned.

"How long are you staying?" He asked after a beat. When he caught your attention, you realized he'd never lost it and you'd been staring at him like you longed to do last night.

"Oh uh-"

"I was gifted tickets to one of those Cirque shows and my friend's flights got canceled.. So... I thought maybe... you'd wanna..."

"I... sure." You sit up straight, trying to bite back the cheesy grin on your face. You weren't sure how you ended up here in Vegas, sharing a drink with a stunning boy, but you thanked your lucky stars as George went one telling you the details he'd roped you into tonight.

___

The storm in New York had only gotten worse, as you scrolled through updates on your cities local website. Your flight was supposed to take off tomorrow morning, but the storm hadn't let up since the last flight got canceled. You decided now wasn't the time to worry, and went about tearing through your suitcase praying you'd find something nice enough to wear.

You exchanged room numbers, agreeing to meet up at George's tonight. You had more than enough time to get ready but still scrambled to present yourself as perfectly as possible. Agreeing to a night out with George was as lucky as you'd ever been.

After shimmying into a pretty outfit and fixing your makeup just right, your phone buzzed with a notification. Your editor had sent you the final edit of the story you'd written for George, praising you for a job well done. You couldn't help but giggled as you skipped down the hall on the way to George's room, three stories higher.

"Hello, love! You look wonderful." George smiled wide as he opened the door, gesturing for you to come in. His single room was much like yours, a living area and kitchen big enough to house a family, and a bedroom off down the hall. Vegas confounded you.

You rested your room key on a desk near the door and watched George slide into a sharp blue jacket, bringing out the shine of his matching eyes. God, how did he get better looking by the minute?

He escorted you from his suite with a coy grin as if your outing was scandalous.

"Your interview should be published next week. My editor loves it." You informed, walking in step with George to the elevators.

"Of course they do, you're an incredible writer." George pulled a face as if this were a fact everyone knew. You pushed the elevator button with a roll of your eyes, unsure how to handle his outlandish flattery.

"All because of the answers you gave me. You're an incredible subject." You fawned, feeling brave enough to in one fleeting moment.

"Then we make the perfect pair," George smirked at you, keeping his eyes on yours as you passed into the elevator doors. Your legs must have figured out how to move on their own because you felt a bit stunned still by the look in George's eye after his soft comment.

The Cirque show was just across the street in another hotel. But because Vegas was insane, it took you a solid fifteen minutes to cross between traffic and a packed hotel lobby to get to the venue inside. By the time you and George settled into your seats, you felt all too unworthy of what was happening.

"Thanks again for bringing me along. I don't know how I got so lucky." You huffed a nervous laugh, trying not to openly swoon over how close you were to the boy. His leg was just barely far enough away from brushing against yours, and you were meant to sit there like it was totally cool for the next hour.

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one." George nodded, turning his head toward the stage as the lights went dim. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and during the first few minutes of the show, all you could truly focus on was how close George was to you. You felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, and reprimanded yourself for letting your feelings get this way.

But halfway through the show, something astounding happened. It was more thrilling than all the acrobatics and dance numbers happening on stage before you. George let his fingers bloom across your palm before they fit perfectly between yours. He sat holding your hand with his eyes fixed on the show, while you tried to keep from melting off the seat into a puddle.

The show ended and you walked out of the theater together, quietly flooding out into the street that was somehow busier than before.

"Thanks for that. I've only been to Vegas for work and have never had time to do the cheesy trashy fun bits."

"Me either." George looked to you and you could tell he was brewing some idea behind his sparkling eyes. Just then, his full name was called out from somewhere beyond your shared gaze. That's when you realized you were still holding his hand. You took a step back, untangling your fingers when you realized a group of drunk college students were excitedly asking for George's photo. You watched from a few steps away and swallowed the silly blooming crush you couldn't shake. What happens in Vegas stayed, right? Maybe you were both just blinded by the ancient ideal.

But when the fans disbanded, George didn't waste a beat slipping his hand back into your grasp.

"Let's go have some fun." He waggled his brow the same as he had hours ago, smirking all the while.

You proceeded to drink and laugh and gamble and dance into the early morning. Your evening became a blur of flashing neon lights and booming bass notes. Even in your alcohol-fueled daze, you fully felt George's fingers linger on your shoulder as he led you to and from the dance floor. His touch was warm and steady and the only thing that made sense in the night full of fast-paced fun you had no time to process.

On the walk back to the hotel, reality threatened to seep in as your feet burned in your heels. When you realized you left your room key in George's room, you felt no shame in taking your heels off and walking the hotel carpet with a little more ease. "I'm all for a movie night in but that was so much fun."

"Me too. Let's have a movie night next." George grinned, wasted as you were.

"Yes!" You fawned in exhausted excitment.

He led you into his room where your room key sat waiting where you'd left it. But the thought of walking one more step made you want to cry. So you asked if George minded if you sat for a moment; settling on the tiny loveseat giving your feet a break and talking yourself into the last bit of walking toward your room.

Yeah, big mistake. Before you knew it, you were totally passed out there and slept soundly on the sofa in a room that wasn't yours. When you woke up and noticed your shoe's near George's by the door you felt so embarrassed for having crashed like that, your weak hangover trumped by shame.

"Shit." You mutter, quietly moving to sneak toward the door. Your cellphone rested on the counter next to your room key. But as you reach for your things, you hear George shuffle into the room. He's dressed for a new day in a plain button-up and suit jacket.

"Oof, I'm really sorry for falling asleep." You cringed, grabbing your room key, a little afraid to look right in George's eye.

"It's alright really." He nodded. "It was so late, I don't know how you slept on that little thing. But I didn't want to move you and make it weird." George kind of grimaced, hoping his comment wasn't as equally unwelcome as he seemed to think the action might have been. "I'm sorry you don't have to leave just yet."

"I have a flight, actually." You frowned suddenly, wishing you didn't have to leave this place you hated a day ago. But as you unlocked your phone to make sure you weren't too late, there we're a slew of emails from your flight agency, canceling your morning commute again.

"And now I don't have a flight."

George's phone seemed to buzz to life at the same moment, it was a new day after all. He glanced at his notifications frowning the same as you just had.

"Well I was going to invite you to breakfast but I've got another meeting added to my list of a ridiculous amount of things to do today." George sighed.

You knew the fun would have to come to an end sooner rather than later, he was a busy guy, an increasingly important, beautiful, busy guy. And you were stuck in Vegas all over again, without much to keep you occupied from how much you'd grown to love it here, just a little.

"Maybe we can have that movie night if I get back early enough." George smiled, leaning over to retrieve his shoes from the doormat. You couldn't believe George had remembered your off the cuff remark from early this morning, but somehow his comment felt more like a raincheck, than an invite. And whether you were hungover or paranoid, you couldn't tell.

So you took the cue to gather your things, opting to carry your shoes and stood in the doorway.

"You know where to find me, then." You offered, too afraid of agreeing right off and seeming too desperate to spend more time with him. You wished George good luck with all his movie star duties for the day and sulked on the long walk back to your shitty matching room.

___

Your day was spent ordering room service, exhausted by the idea of going back out and about in all the madness that made up Vegas. You scrolled through a measly list of flights to take, opting to stay another night and hoping the storm would pass soon. Soon, the sun was setting and after a long bubble bath, you slipped into your favorite pair of pj's, planning to listen to some podcasts to make the most of this evening. But just as you finished cleaning up, a knock came at your door. You hadn't ordered more room service, and there was a sign dangling from your door handle warning away the maids.

You were surprised to find George on the other side of your door, looking happy to see you. You honestly hadn't expected to see him again, you thought your luck had run its course. And you spent the whole day trying not to reminisce over the way you'd grown more comfortable near each other as the night went on.

You greeted him with a smile, comfortable enough in your pj's when you noticed he was wearing joggers now, too.

"You shed the suit?" You laughed.

"I figured if we're having a movie night I better dress for the occasion," George smirked. You hung your head to hide your blush and opened the door wider for him to come in all the way.

Okay, so maybe you had failed to plan this far ahead, but you hardly cared what happened next. You and George floated to the sofa in front of the television, and he reached for the remote.

“Have you memorized the tv guide yet?” George prodded as you sat next to him, leaving a sliver of space for good measure.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been far too busy running around the city this weekend.” You smiled, turning your gaze toward the television, too skittish to meet George’s baby blue eyes this close up.

He clicked his tongue as if to say “what a shame” all while flipping through channels. He landed on Hallmark, tossing the remote down ceremoniously. You couldn’t help but laugh as the movie seemed to just begin.

“Is that Betty White?” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome.” George boasted over getting lucky finding this film queued up perfectly for the two of you on this spontaneous night. You spent a little bit laughing over the cheesy musical flares and dramatics that made up every great Hallmark film, this one included. But as the film played on, you couldn’t help but notice the bits of genuinely good storytelling peeking through.

George kept you laughing throughout the film, but near the end, both of you got quiet and watched in silence until the credits rolled.

“Damn. That was actually just a little bit good.” George spoke up, a little quiet. That’s when you noticed how close he’d gotten to you. The sliver of space you’d left at the beginning of the movie was now barely noticeable.

“Yeah.” You laughed, amazed by more than just the film. “This whole weekend has been surprisingly wonderful.” You spoke softly, daring to glance right at George, who had already fixed his eyes on you.

You couldn't tell who made the first move but the next thing you know, you're kissing him. You and George took turns sharing feather-light pecks, each of you chasing each other kiss after one ended. George was definitely the first to place both strong hands around the back of your head and kiss you like he meant it. You were nearly too stunned to kiss him back, but once you started the floodgates broke off their hinges and there was no turning back. You climbed into his lap and latched on for all it was worth because surely this was a dream and you weren't ready to wake up at all.

You savored the steady build of his fingers trailing down your arms while your kisses grew deeper, mouths pushing against each others like you’d been doing this for ages. Your hands had a mind of their own, creeping softly under the hem of George’s soft tshirt to his hot skin below.

"Hey," George gently broke your kiss and cupped your face in both hands. You practically held your breath as his shimmering eyes searched yours. "You okay with this?" George seemed to genuinely wonder. His voice was dripping with lust and his body was warm underneath yours. It didn't take a detective to read George like a book, but he still had the self-control and gentle heart to make sure you were comfortable. It only made you want him more. But you were still far too shy to say so, no matter your actions. So you bit your lip and hummed in sweet agreeance, wrapping your hands around George’s neck.

You watched George’s face stretch into a smile before he ducked his head to the crook of your neck where he let out a contented sigh before grazing his teeth along your skin. You squealed with delight when he swiftly pinned you down on the sofa to playfully pepper your face with kisses like something less heated was taking place.

"You know, now would be the perfect time to carry me from the couch to your bed." You rose an encouraging brow, reminding George of just this morning when he was too afraid of disturbing your sleep on his sofa that matched this one. George let out a laugh as he peeled himself off the top of you and picked you up bridal style in his impressively buff arms.

"Right this way, madame." George teased, carrying you through his bedroom door.

You had thrown the covers into place the best you could the last time you woke up here. George rested you gently on the bed, much like you were sleeping and he was afraid of waking you up. But your heart was beating fast enough to win a race, somehow increasing when George rested beside you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re very pretty, you know?” George blinked, whispering to you.

“I’m glad you think so.” You spoke back even quieter, reaching out to touch his face. He was so handsome it nearly stopped your heart. George leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and steady. You hadn’t felt so content in ages, you could have laid there kissing George forever and been happy. But then his fingers trailed down your side to grab your hip, and you swore you saw stars. George pulled your leg over his and now you were pressed against one another, kisses growing deeper still.

“This alright?” He asked almost timidly, as his fingers crept below your nightshirt.

“Yeah,” You breathed as George moved his kisses down your neck, and his hand to your chest. Your fingers splayed through his hair as he reached around your back to find the clasp on your bralette

“It’s in the front.” You giggled, feeling George smile against your skin.

“Very cute.” He hummed in your ear before kissing your jaw and finding the button. He shoved your shirt most of the way off, and you had to move out from under him to remove it all the way. Before settling back against the pillows, you pulled off George’s shirt so you could revel in the warmth of his skin.

You settled in his lap, each knee on either side of his hips throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again, somehow still enjoying each brush of his tongue against yours like it was the first time. George signed into your mouth, each pleasant groan traveling straight down your spine. You rolled your hips against his, and George’s groans grew darker.

His fingers were lost in your hair and you found a steady pace to rock against him, drawing out longer whimpers from his lips with each new movement. Soon, his hand toyed with the drawstring of your shorts and he had to break away from your kiss to ask if he could take them off you could only muster an encourageable nod as your breath got caught in your throat. George laid you back, keeping those stunning blue eyes locked on yours all the while, only breaking away when he slid the last of your layers off. His fingers slid slowly between your legs as he laid next to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” George spoke, you could feel his breath ghost across your lips while he went on building up the tension in your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to fill with fire, a contradictory chill shooting through your system. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“George,” You sighed, opening your eyes to look at him again, “need you.”

You watched his eyes go dark as he slowly moved away from you, slipping his joggers off and slotting himself between your legs.

“You’re sure?” He asked one final time.

“Please.” You groaned, placing your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. With one last kiss on your lips, the Disney prince type, he pushed into you. If you thought the noises George had made before were beautiful, the ones he was making now could’ve moved you to tears. He found your hand and held it with one of his while the other slipped below your belly button.

Your heavy sighs and desperate moans synced up and you rode your highs on the edge of one another. George didn’t move off the top of you right away, instead, he stayed there with his face buried in your hair soaking up the quiet moment.

“That was wonderful, love.” George whispered in your ear as he fell to your side. You turned to face him, biting back a yawn.

“You’re wonderful.” You sleepily smiled. George pulled you against him then, and you rested your hand on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. The steady rhythm puts you to sleep in no time.

___

The next morning came late, and the Vegas sun shone brightly through the space between the curtains you forgot to close.

George was still by your side, but you’d drifted apart in the night. So upon noticing his eyes were open and glued on you, you felt no shame curling up next to his side.

"This has been the longest one night stand of my life." You sighed dramatically, comfily resting your head on his broad shoulder. George was quiet for a beat and you were a bit worried you’d upset him. But then he spoke up, with a gentle voice saturated in sleep.

"Wanna see how long we can last? I don’t think I wanna stop waking up to you."

How could you say no? You’d spent the whole weekend saying yes to George, and look where it had gotten you. So you agreed to stay one more night in Vegas, hoping what happened there would last a lifetime.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine

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narnianvalkyrieofberk · 3 years ago

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Okay, I.... Have many thoughts and would like to put my two cents in. Also don't wanna take up a bunch of dash space tho sooooo

Okay, so first of all

"This scenario happens a lot in real life, where the kid feels as though nothing is in her favor and life itself is unfair. Her ideals aren’t matching up with reality." Please. Please by all means explain to me how Lilo's life is fair. Yes, shitty things happen in life and we can't just magically change that. But that doesn't mean life is fair. Nani and Lilo having lost their parents is not fair. Mertle treating Lilo like shit is not fair. The hula teacher doing nothing to stop Mertle's constant bullying and Mertle never seeming to face any consequences for being a bully IS. NOT. FAIR. So, I mean, you're not wrong about Lilo's ideals not matching reality. But that doesn't automatically mean the reality that is there is fair.

"Lilo isn’t just the bullied weird kid. She’s a brat. Her first instinct when somebody says something she doesn’t like is to get violent…" Mertle called Lilo crazy after Lilo explained a ritual she does, presumably to cope with her parents' death, that is very important to her. Unless you want to count smaller instances as nitpicks such as shoving Stitch away or slamming her door, this is literally the only time in the movie we see Lilo get violent. And on top of that, she APOLOGIZES to Mertle without prompting from an adult forcing her to do so. Is it ideal that Lilo hit and bit Mertle? No. Is it completely understandable behavior from a child who is still young and learning right and wrong? Yes.

"Lilo is horrendously ungrateful for everything Nani sacrifices for her, and gets bitter and spiteful when she’s called on it, so much so that the child throws a tantrum. Poor Nani is left STILL trying to pick up the slack, STILL trying to fix things in Lilo’s destructive wake, and Lilo honestly doesn’t care." This is a literal six-year-old. Like, if this was a teenager or something, yes by all means she should understand the situation a lot better. But she doesn't because she is a child. Like. Six-year-olds' brains literally have not even fully formed into one cohesive personality yet at this point. They're on the tail end of doing it, but they're not done yet until usually about the 7-9 years old range. So you are asking this literal developing child who is probably also stunted due to the trauma of losing her parents to fully comprehend the weight of what her sister is taking care of. Please, let that sink in for a moment.

"Lilo is of the mindset that it’s Nani’s job to clean up after her messes, and takes that entirely for granted. And the message of the movie, “family means nobody gets left behind,” underscores this and even says that it IS the family’s job to fix its members’ messes… without holding that family member responsible or accountable." Look, I'm very much of the mindset that different people can get very different messages from the same story. So I'm trying to be understanding here. That being said, I am genuinely baffled as to how this is the message you got from Lilo and Stitch. Like. Nani does hold Lilo accountable. That's what their whole fight that I'm presuming is what you were referencing in the last point I touched on was about. Lilo holds Stitch accountable in some ways as well, hence the widely popular "This is you. This is your badness level" scene.

"The natural result of that message is a wonderfully horrific movie called The Godfather. I highly recommend it if you haven’t actually ever watched it; it is not a fun movie but it is very eye-opening." Okay, I can't give a lot of commentary on this because I haven't actually seen The Godfather. The most I've done is read the wikipedia summary. So take my opinion on this with a grain of salt. Said opinion being, yes this movie does depict a very unhealthy level of "family first" mentality. But.... I don't see it as comparable to Lilo and Stitch??? Like... I genuinely just don't see where this connection is being drawn at all.

"So when Lilo wishes for somebody to arrive to fix all her problems again, somebody who’d reinforce the behaviors that she likes, regardless of how bad those behaviors are for everyone around her… well, she gets what she asked for. She gets Stitch." -- "I need someone to be my friend. Someone who won't run away. Maybe send me an angel? The nicest angel you have." -- Please. Please, by all means explain this one to me. Explain to me how a desperate bullied six-year-old asking for a friend, asking for THE NICEST ANGEL HEAVEN HAS is asking for a little demon to indulge all her worst behaviors. Please. Because I genuinely do not understand this leap of logic.

"Now, Stitch is a monster. Stitch is - and SHOULD be - the physical manifestation of Lilo’s bitterness, self-indulgence, and tendency to lash out at anything that’s set against her." Lilo isn't bitter. She is a traumatized child. By all means, if you know a way to help a child who, again has a brain that hasn't fully processed yet how to be a singular, consistent, cohesive person yet even, process complex emotions like grief and PTSD in a manner equivalent to the abilities of (I'm assuming you're a) grown ass adult, get on the line with child psychologists and teach them your methods. It could literally revolutionize the field of child psychology. Otherwise, you're just asking a small, emotionally underdeveloped child to do the impossible and behave in a more perfectly mature manner than even a lot of adults do.

"Of COURSE she’d like this little beast. And the movie portrays him as a little beast! …sort of. He should be even more of a monster than the movie claims. It is not Stitch’s narrative role, in this kind of story, to be sympathetic." Okay, so I'm assuming (hoping) that the narrative role you're referring to is the narrative role he would play in your ideal version of Lilo and Stitch and not the narrative role he plays in the actual story. Because in the actual story he is a narrative parallel to Lilo the protagonist, both of whom are supposed to be sympathetic in some manner. They are both outcasts trying to find a place to belong. I'm.... Okay, I'm gonna be honest. I actually think I'd kind of enjoy a discussion with OP about Mary Shelley's Frankenstein because then at least there's (in my opinion) more grounds for a "This character [the monster] is not meant to be sympathetic" because while I do find several of his actions to be unforgivable in a narrative context, I still find him to be a painfully sad and horribly sympathetic character. But I can understand why someone else wouldn't. I genuinely cannot understand why one would think Stitch is not meant to be sympathetic or shouldn't be meant in such a manner.

"He needs to be the ultimate result of allowing your kid to become a little monster. Nani continues to indulge Lilo when she should be putting her foot down, and the result is that the household invites in the worst kind of monster there is - one that everyone in the house created together." Please. Please for the love of god show me one example of Nani indulging Lilo. She chides Lilo for getting in fights. She chides Lilo and sends her to her room for not waiting at the school like she was meant to. Like.... Are we just defining indulging a child as "not verbally beating them over the head for every mistake the make"??? Like, I don't think that's what you mean. I genuinely don't. But I'm not sure what alternative it is that you have. "Where the story SHOULD go from here is that Lilo and Stitch have a grand old time together, wreaking further havoc on Nani’s life (and the lives of everyone around them)… until finally that havoc actually affects Lilo’s life, and she cannot avoid the repercussions. Her indulgence in allowing this little monster to destroy everything has brought things to a very, very bad place." Please. I am begging you. Explain what havoc Lilo wreaked on Nani's life beyond that which a normal child wreaks on their caregiver's life! Like... my immediate thought is maybe you're focusing on Nani getting fired from her job as a waitress. But like... That wasn't Lilo's fault. If you want to blame anyone for Nani getting fired, blame Jumbaa and Pleakley. Like. I personally wouldn't even blame them because they're just trying to capture the highly dangerous creature they were sent after and don't have any reason to believe their actions would negatively affect the life of anybody but said creature. And Stitch is just trying to not get captured and isolated and/or taken apart piece by piece. Can't really say I blame him there. The manager I'm torn on because Nani's "dog" DID just attack a patron. But I'm inclined to call him a dick because he doesn't really seem to try and get the full story and it's entirely possible he allowed Nani to bring her "dog" in in the first place. And Lilo's just sitting there coloring and potentially trying to work out how best to teach Stitch to behave. So..... yeah, all the blame I'm seeing going anywhere pretty much goes on the manager.

"Lilo should try to confront Stitch, and Stitch should not care in the slightest, echoing how Lilo responded to when Nani finally tried to confront her… and now the reality of what’s happened should sink in for Lilo, so her only remaining option would be to abandon Stitch, to get rid of the monster. Only at this point would Stitch also start to realize that he’s done this to himself." I'm still so fucking lost. What did Lilo do??? Like, I'm genuinely confused why you seem to have such vitriol for this child. What has this child done????? She was bullied, fought back against the bully, was punished despite no punishment happening to the bully, and still apologized for attacking the bully with no adult prompting. She fought with her sister and is having an understandably difficult time processing the loss of her parents and her sister's new role as a parental figure to her. Like.... what has this child done that requires comeuppance????

"Things should then get bad in the plot from here. As is commonly said, acknowledging the problem is only the first step to fixing it. Lilo and Nani are left in pretty much a broken home, where Nani has no idea what to do, Lilo has destroyed Nani’s life, and yet Lilo doesn’t want to accept that the problem was of her own doing (if she did accept it, she wouldn’t have tried to act like it wasn’t a part of her - she wouldn’t have symbolically removed Stitch)." Now you're just contradicting yourself. Does "reality of what’s happened [...] sink in for Lilo" or does it not sink in and she "[tries] to act like it wasn’t a part of her"???

"Stitch is up in space or whatever, being brought back to the research lab or something. There, however, he learns of something terrible that’s going to happen to Nani and Lilo, and all the people that put up with his nonsense for so long back down on Earth. What exactly this terrible thing that’s going to happen is doesn’t matter - what matters is the theme, the moral being shown. Stitch tries to ignore it, because “hey, it’s not my problem,” but can’t shake the guilt that begins to eat at him… and at the last second, Stitch changes his mind, makes the RIGHT decision, and arrives to rescue Lilo and Nani in the nick of time." Why should he? You literally said he shouldn't be a sympathetic character. And you've been arguing that other people shouldn't have to clean up your mess. So why is Stitch now supposed to do the right thing? Why is he supposed to clean up the mess Lilo made? Again, you're contradicting yourself.

"This would be the first GOOD thing that Stitch has ever done, something entirely selfless for the benefit of another person. Think of how much stronger a message that would be, then, when after the day is saved, Stitch is welcomed back into the family, and things are finally starting to look up for the three of them. It would be a story of personal growth, of how to face your own demons and how to treat your loved ones with the respect they honestly deserve, how to show gratitude when somebody makes a sacrifice for you!" Okay, so this one is where things get personal for me. I'm going to try and not let my emotions get the better of me because I recognize this is a sore spot and could lead me to taking things out that don't belong here. I apologize in advance if I don't keep it all contained. Alright. *deep breath* In my opinion, this is an infinitely more dangerous message to give kids than "Family means nobody gets left behind" especially when the family depicted in Lilo and Stitch ends up including people not related by blood. Nobody getting left behind isn't supposed to mean your family cleans up your messes for you. It means that even when times are tough you know someone will be there for you, even if that being there for you means calling you out on your bullshit. This is the kind of message that finally got through my thick (at the time) twenty-two-year-old skull that love doesn't need to be earned, that the friends who would be there for me emotionally cared more about me that the mother who fed, clothed, and emotionally abused me ever did. Now let's take a look at what might have happened if I had gotten more messages like what you propose here throughout my life. Messages that I should show gratitude for all the sacrifices made for me. I may never have stood up to my mom in that case. Sure, she made me feel worthless if I didn't do what she wanted. But I should have done that stuff anyways to show her gratitude, right? She married a man she didn't love so that I could have my dad in my life, and all she wanted in return was for me to be her dumping grounds for all the vitriol she held against the dad I loved. She let herself be completely financially dependent upon him so she could be a stay at home mom and homeschool be so I wouldn't be indoctrinated by public schools or bullied like she was, and all I had to do in return was follow her religion unquestioningly and (by the time I was finishing up highschool) teach, do, and grade all my schoolwork myself so that she wasn't so tired at the end of the day. She drove me to after school activities a few times a week, and all she asked in return was that I listen meekly to her bitch about what a burden it was for her to take this time out of her day to drive me around when I was too young to have a license. While I do think your ideas are well intentioned, I also have to say that if the "improved" Lilo and Stitch that you suggest is what I grew up with, I would have had an even harder time convincing myself that I didn't owe my mom my entire soul for all the sacrifices she made for me.

"But instead, we get “you should love and take care of your family no matter how they abuse you and take you for granted.” What a HORRIBLE message!" I can agree with you that this is indeed a horrible message. What I can't agree with is that this is the message conveyed by Lilo and Stitch.

Alright, I'm not going to touch on the bit about the other person's post because i read that post myself and it talks about a lot of historical context that I'm not familiar enough with to feel qualified to comment on. And I'm not going to touch on the parts that have since been redacted because I wouldn't personally find that fair to do. The last bit I'll mention is this quote here: "I’m still not a fan of the movie myself, for all the reasons I mentioned above. I don’t think it’s a helpful message to teach kids - even as young as Lilo - that they don’t need to take responsibility for what they say or do, or that it’s all right to lash out as long as you’ve got a reason for being hurt and upset." Your opinions are your own and if I were to try and say they're objectively right or wrong I'd be making a pointless endeavor trying to give objective value to a subjective thought. I will say I fully disagree with your thoughts, as this ramble-rant of an essay has shown, but I can at least appreciate that you probably put just as much time and effort into your original analysis and I have into giving my thoughts on it.

Would you mind sharing a quick summary of why you don't think Lilo and Stitch is a good movie? I didn't get to see the stream and I'm quite curious as I haven't met a person who didn't think Lilo and Stitch was a fantastic movie.

Sure thing, I’ll try to be brief!

So let’s take a look at Lilo and Stitch’s setup. It’s actually a great premise - a kid who thinks the world is set against her, an older sister who’s at her wit’s end trying to care for the kid completely on her own…This scenario happens a lot in real life, where the kid feels as though nothing is in her favor and life itself is unfair. Her ideals aren’t matching up with reality.

The kid and her sister - Lilo and Nani - have a REALLY bad fight, and Lilo shuts herself in her room in a tantrum. Later, Nani finds Lilo wishing for an “angel” to come and save her from this horrible situation she’s in.

Now, here’s where the movie starts to do what it shouldn’t do. Let’s take a look at Lilo.

Lilo isn’t just the bullied weird kid. She’s a brat. Her first instinct when somebody says something she doesn’t like is to get violent… and it may seem funny on the screen, but this sort of behavior is NOT funny in real life; and if you think it is, there is a real problem there. Lilo is horrendously ungrateful for everything Nani sacrifices for her, and gets bitter and spiteful when she’s called on it, so much so that the child throws a tantrum. Poor Nani is left STILL trying to pick up the slack, STILL trying to fix things in Lilo’s destructive wake, and Lilo honestly doesn’t care.

Lilo is of the mindset that it’s Nani’s job to clean up after her messes, and takes that entirely for granted. And the message of the movie, “family means nobody gets left behind,” underscores this and even says that it IS the family’s job to fix its members’ messes… without holding that family member responsible or accountable.

The natural result of that message is a wonderfully horrific movie called The Godfather. I highly recommend it if you haven’t actually ever watched it; it is not a fun movie but it is very eye-opening.

So when Lilo wishes for somebody to arrive to fix all her problems again, somebody who’d reinforce the behaviors that she likes, regardless of how bad those behaviors are for everyone around her… well, she gets what she asked for. She gets Stitch.

Now, Stitch is a monster. Stitch is - and SHOULD be - the physical manifestation of Lilo’s bitterness, self-indulgence, and tendency to lash out at anything that’s set against her. Of COURSE she’d like this little beast. And the movie portrays him as a little beast! …sort of. He should be even more of a monster than the movie claims. It is not Stitch’s narrative role, in this kind of story, to be sympathetic. He needs to be the ultimate result of allowing your kid to become a little monster. Nani continues to indulge Lilo when she should be putting her foot down, and the result is that the household invites in the worst kind of monster there is - one that everyone in the house created together.

Where the story SHOULD go from here is that Lilo and Stitch have a grand old time together, wreaking further havoc on Nani’s life (and the lives of everyone around them)… until finally that havoc actually affects Lilo’s life, and she cannot avoid the repercussions. Her indulgence in allowing this little monster to destroy everything has brought things to a very, very bad place.

Lilo should try to confront Stitch, and Stitch should not care in the slightest, echoing how Lilo responded to when Nani finally tried to confront her… and now the reality of what’s happened should sink in for Lilo, so her only remaining option would be to abandon Stitch, to get rid of the monster. Only at this point would Stitch also start to realize that he’s done this to himself.

Things should then get bad in the plot from here. As is commonly said, acknowledging the problem is only the first step to fixing it. Lilo and Nani are left in pretty much a broken home, where Nani has no idea what to do, Lilo has destroyed Nani’s life, and yet Lilo doesn’t want to accept that the problem was of her own doing (if she did accept it, she wouldn’t have tried to act like it wasn’t a part of her - she wouldn’t have symbolically removed Stitch).

Stitch is up in space or whatever, being brought back to the research lab or something. There, however, he learns of something terrible that’s going to happen to Nani and Lilo, and all the people that put up with his nonsense for so long back down on Earth. What exactly this terrible thing that’s going to happen is doesn’t matter - what matters is the theme, the moral being shown. Stitch tries to ignore it, because “hey, it’s not my problem,” but can’t shake the guilt that begins to eat at him… and at the last second, Stitch changes his mind, makes the RIGHT decision, and arrives to rescue Lilo and Nani in the nick of time.

This would be the first GOOD thing that Stitch has ever done, something entirely selfless for the benefit of another person. Think of how much stronger a message that would be, then, when after the day is saved, Stitch is welcomed back into the family, and things are finally starting to look up for the three of them. It would be a story of personal growth, of how to face your own demons and how to treat your loved ones with the respect they honestly deserve, how to show gratitude when somebody makes a sacrifice for you!

But instead, we get “you should love and take care of your family no matter how they abuse you and take you for granted.” What a HORRIBLE message!

Now, the spiel from my recent stream actually went on from here, and @kaleidraws would be able to speak more knowledgeably about it, but basically the way she put it is: from the depiction of Hawaiian culture in the film, “the person/people who made the movie clearly had no first-hand experience in the era they were depicting, and instead were projecting what they thought it was like based on their own biases and intended messages.” Hawaiian culture from Lilo & Stitch’s time period was, in reality, very much opposite to the way Lilo & Stitch glamorized it… but you won’t hear people talking about that.

At any rate, it’s no wonder people like this movie - it’s so incredibly indulgent and reinforces the notion that a person doesn’t need to be responsible for themself, because somebody else will fix every problem they ever have… what a blissfully irresponsible message.

Watch out for people who get offended at this sort of critique, and who react highly negatively when somebody insults something they like - it often means they’ve attached too much of their identity to that thing, and feel personally called out when somebody points out that it’s a bad message!

^ I shouldn’t have said this.

The point of this response should have been to explain my perspective and opinion on a movie, not to make a qualitative judgement of people who like the film, and it was presumptuous of me to do that. There’s a lot about the film to like - the music is wonderful, the animation is lovely, and there’s a whole slew of other reasons to admire it. Everyone has things from their childhood that they’re fond of, which left a lasting impact on them. Of course people are gonna go “whoa, wait a second” when somebody basically insults it and them for liking that thing.

It was really uncool of me, and I’m sorry.

I’m still not a fan of the movie myself, for all the reasons I mentioned above. I don’t think it’s a helpful message to teach kids - even as young as Lilo - that they don’t need to take responsibility for what they say or do, or that it’s all right to lash out as long as you’ve got a reason for being hurt and upset. But I shouldn’t have insulted people over it, and again, while it wasn’t my intention, that’s exactly what I did.

I’m gonna keep this in mind for the future - it’s foolish to fall back on insults when what I really care about is sharing my passion for storytelling and analysis thereof. Thank you guys for your patience and understanding - I won’t make the same mistake again.

(Side note: @kaleidraws did a wonderful bit of analysis on the Hawaiian culture side of things here.)

#lilo and stitch #rant #rant essay #child abuse #emotional abuse #I really went off on this one #because a lot of it hit close to home for me #not just because that movie was my childhood tho

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