#just so that you can consume as much pop culture news as possible

[baby-girl-aaron-dessner]

[alexanderwales]

A small addendum to the post on art under communism/capitalism, which had been queued for a bit: I occasionally see people complain about the "everything is a reboot, sequel, prequel, or tie-in" nature of modern mass market pop culture film, and then also complain that this is a capitalism problem, and if you're a person who cares about empiricism (like me!) you immediately go out to see whether this is true.

Which immediately led me to the character of Stierlitz, who I had never heard of before. But you can't just say "well, this was a 14 novel series with six adaptations, written and produced under communism", because this was also a series that was being pushed by the KGB, and maybe that doesn't fit in with your idea of "communism", and says more about the particular time and place it was written/made than the economic system it was made under. But my suspicion is that popularity and risk-aversion are what cause the sequel/reboot phenomenon, and that this is only substantially different under other economic models if there are deliberate efforts to avoid it. There's another example, the Soviet Union's most popular film of 1965, Operation Y, which was followed by a semi-sequel, Kidnapping, Caucasian Style, and actors reprising their roles across multiple films, and ... does this count? How many more of these examples could I dredge up if I had more than a passing familiarity with Soviet film? How many from other regions?

Possibly coordination between communist film organizations would help this problem. It's unclear to me, but I don't think that we can say that this is clearly a problem that capitalism created, not unless we're just talking in terms of pure theory.

Certainly we can say that it wasn't an endemic problem in any communist country, but I don't think that by most measures it was an endemic problem during the same time period in the United States either. In the 60s and 70s Hollywood was mostly making original films, a pattern that didn't begin to shift until later. The emergence of television created reduced demand for cinema basically everywhere, so that might explain some of the risk aversion, and funding for Soviet film declined pretty rapidly going into the 80s with much fewer standout films (the movie "Come and See" is a notable counterexample).

There's also an argument that whereas in the Hollywood system there was a great deal of risk aversion, that aversion was financial in nature: a film is a bet, and a studio can only make a limited number of bets at any given time, with a string of bad ones leading to bankruptcy. But in the Soviet system, the primary risk was ideological risk, which wouldn't give the same incentive structure that led to sequel culture. I'm not sure how much I buy this, more study is needed.

I guess I want to immediately compare sequel culture to oral traditions and the way that Arthurian legend (for example) ballooned with new knights and new quests over time, becoming confused. Or the way that fanfic, absent any market forces, results in many of "the same" fics being written and consumed, similar beats getting hit over and over, formula that we can only (at best) blame on attention economy. Writers and creators often want to capture the largest number of readers/viewers, and so pitch to the lowest common denominator, using the tropes and characters that people are most familiar with.

The writers that are writing specifically for their weird friends are obviously just doing their own thing, but it's going to be harder to interest people in funding a movie with a niche story, even if it's well-told, and it's going to be difficult to get theaters to show it unless those theaters are specifically committed to showing weird stuff.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Assistant Noah AU, since Noah isn't a contestant, Ezekiel takes Noah's place as a member of Team Chris...

Ezekiel doesn't lose the stick, so there's no eliminations in the Egyptian Episode...

Ezekiel had become Lindsay's and Beth's platonic BFF, and now has a new better respect for women...

Ezekiel is also a bit smarter, and somehow sees through Alejandro's tricks...

How would Alejandro honestly feel about Ezekiel? 😉

I'll take any oppertunity to "save" Ezekiel from his canon treatment, and having him substitute onto Team Chris in Noah's place is a great idea.

But I don't think Alejandro would like him at all.

You've got to understand; Ezekiel is the equivalent of a very misguided, very lost puppy. He's not exactly sure what's going on at the best of times, and after Island his response to the culture shock between his homelife and his life on reality TV is to adopt a fake "cool" personality from whatever pop culture he's managed to consume... which only serves to make him more insufferable to the people around him than his clueless farmboy demeanour ever did.

Had he retained his pre-Total Drama personality and naivety, then Alejandro would tolerate him, if only as an exploitable pawn (much like Tyler). But it's repeatedly shown in canon that Ezekiel is unpleasent to be around by design. He's talkative and outspoken at the worst times, oftentimes with opinions that aren't exactly palatable, he doesn't understand the concept of personal space and acceptable social behaviour, he smells bad, ect ect. Pair this with him mimicking the stereotypical "rapper" demeanour, and you have the perfect foil for Alejandro's nice guy act.

Because Alejandro is very many things, but patient isn't one of them. At least, not in the context of being around people who annoy him. Just look at his canon relationship with Owen; if he couldn't stand to be around Owen of all people, then he'd really hate Ezekiel.

That's not to say that I think Ezekiel is a hateable character. Quite the opposite, really. He's so interesting to think about from a writer's standpoint, since he has a surprising amount of characterisation for a character who spends the majority of his screentime feral and non-verbal. Just enough to base characterisation on, and just little enough to expand upon in whatever way you'd like and not have it feel out of character.

In the given scenario, I'd have him form a friendship with Owen and and Izzy (by this point in the series he's been educated on how his father's mindset is very outdated and toxic, so he's more than happy to befriend a girl). The two of them aren't concerned with things like "coolness" and social acceptability, which would be a huge part of Zeke's character arc in this season - learning how to accept himself for himself, instead of trying to conform to his skewered perspective of what the media deems "hip".

Pairing this with the somewhat limited but amicable relationship he shares with Lindsay on Team Victory, and the intangiable but nonetheless just as impactful influence of Beth who's stuck on the Aftermath, and suddenly Ezekiel has a whole support system of genuinely kind people who can and will help him learn the ropes of modern society. (Give Ezekiel Friends 2k24‼️)

A direct contrast to Alejandro, who's whole deal is presenting himself as a perfect, infalliable person who doesn't really form any friendships. (Unless you count Heather and maybe Courtney?)

See here's where the two of them play the role of "contrasting narritive foil" for each other. Alejandro and Ezekiel are both fueled by their need to prove themselves by winning, but their methodology is entirely different; Alejandro's game plan is to be as fake and perfect as possible whilst sabotaging the competition and inadvertantly isolating himself, and Ezekiel is just doing his best to play fair whilst learning how to be the most authentic version of himself in the proccess with the help of his friends. (Something something the power of friendship...)

Something to note here: Both of them are trying to prove themselves to their families. Alejandro's trying to prove he can be more than second place (to José, or just in general), and Ezekiel is trying to prove that he can withstand the challenges of the world outside of his family's farm (which he never got the chance to, given he was the first boot of the previous two seasons).

As for Ezekiel being "smarter" and seeing through Alejandro's tricks; I'd like to veto that idea and offer you this instead.

Ezekiel has gullibility and naivety practically woven into the threads of his character, so of course he'd be in the same boat as Owen and Tyler. That is to say, he'd initially be one of Alejandro's most staunch defenders, since he doesn't have the intelligence or the instincts to see past his fake exterior, as Ezekiel isn't worldly enough to know how to spot a fake.

And that's exactly what causes Alejandro's downfall.

As stated before, Ezekiel is annoying by design. Pair his enthusiasm with an idolisation towards Alejandro (for being an objectively strong competitor, or whatever reason you want) and you've got the perfect recipe for Alejandro to blow up at Ezekiel once his already negligable patience snaps. Probably in a scene similar to the confrontation he has with Owen in the Amazon.

All of a sudden, Ezekiel has seen Alejandro's true colours and the rose-tinted glasses he's been blinded by come shattering to the ground - and the knowledge that's been painstakingly imparted onto him by Lindsay and Beth comes into play. Alejandro is a bad guy, just like Zeke's dad.

From then on, Ezekiel is hesitant around Alejandro. Quiet, uncharacteristically so. The sight of unapologetically loud and obtuse Ezekiel being subdued (scared?) of Alejandro has the other contestants beginning to question his performative geniality. If Zeke of all people doesn't trust him, it must be a bad sign.

[heizlut]

So This is Love

cw: angst/misunderstandings

tags: fem!reader from natlan, kaeya being kaeya, angst/comfort/smut, diluc is heavily mentioned, venti and jean are also mentioned, mostly proofread

a/n: don't ask how many words this is, it's a lot😅

m!list here

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

Kaeya would do anything for you, why couldn't you just see that? He didn't understand since he had been so attentive towards you, even after that one night where he witnessed something from outside the window of Angel's Share that made him feel too many emotions at once. Was he just not enough for you? Did you move on? Even worse, did you truly choose Diluc? These thoughts consume him constantly and tear at his aching heart.

So, in this moment, Kaeya is standing there soaked from the pouring rain in front of your door as you look up at him with a mix of confusion and concern. His gaze full of turmoil as he stares down into your eyes, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?", his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache.

But how did you two even get to this point? Had things always been this way? No, they hadn't. And Kaeya was more determined than ever to have you by his side.

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Being in Mondstadt was certainly quite the culture shock for you since you had come from Natlan. Mondstadt was a far-cry from the scorching heat and endless wars that consumed your nation. Everything here was so peaceful and freeing. There seemed to be no archon ruling over the place finding joy in calling for constant war between its people. In fact, the archon seemed largely absent here but many people still held faith for him.

It was...nice. You felt like you could breathe without smelling the stench of death and fire. You certainly turned heads when you arrived here since you did not look like the people who resided in this nation nor did you dress like them. Maybe if you had gone to Sumeru instead, less heads would have turned at your appearance, but you wanted to get as far from Natlan as possible.

The guards at the gates leading in Mondstadt City looked at you warily while you looked at them with curiosity. "Who are you and what is your purpose here?", one of the guards spoke. You blink a couple of times as your brain processes the language difference and makes the switch to their tongue, "I'm here for refuge." The two men cast sideways glances at each other before looking back at you, "And how long do you plan on staying?" You frowned slightly as you thought, "For as long as I can."

The guards looked skeptical of you and one narrowed their eyes at you as he spoke, "Come with me. I'll escort you to the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius where you can meet with the Acting Grandmaster." Just as he turned around to lead you, Venti seemed to pop out of nowhere with a bright smile and curious eyes, "Who's this?" The guard jumped, startled by Venti's sudden appearance and put a hand to his chest to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest from the innocent scare, "Gah!" He clicked his tongue, "If it isn't Venti the bard... We have someone new here and I was going to escort them to the Knights Headquarters."

You looked at Venti curiously, trying to figure out if he was someone you could trust. It was a habit you didn't think you would be rid of anytime soon. But he only smiled happily at you then back at the guard, "Let me take her. I have nothing else going on right now." The guard hesitated for a moment, then released a deep, defeated sigh, "Fine. I shouldn't leave my post anyways." Venti's bright smile seemed to get even brighter at his relentence. He looked back to you, "Come and follow me!" You only shrugged and began to follow after him.

Walking through the main city beside Venti, you felt many eyes on you. Some wary of you while others just looked on in curiosity. Maybe they would relax if you had walked with a small smile on your face, but alas, resting bitch face was your default unless you were among close friends (which you could count on only one hand). Venti chattered away endlessly as you followed him as if he had known you for ages, but you hardly listened. The only thing that caught your attention was the towered statue of the nations archon. You paused as Venti continued to speak, until he shortly noticed you had stopped, "Huh? Is something wrong?" Your eyes go from the statue to him, back and forth a couple of times before you finally spoke, "Do your people not realize that you are their archon? Why do they call you the bard and seem to disregard you?"

Venti's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, "Oh... That's um..." You raised a brow at him, "Why do you hide your identity?" Venti paused again, but recovered by clearing his throat, "I would rather the people have full freedom then feel the need to bow down to me, I don't want to go into details." You simply regarded his words with a shrug, "Well, that's your choice, I guess." Venti blinked at your nonchalant acceptance but quickly smiled his usual bright smile, "Anyways, that's enough of that tour. I'll take you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters now."

It wasn't long before you both arrived to HQ and entered through the grand double doors. Venti approached the first door on the left, "And this is Acting Grandmaster Jean's office." Venti stepped aside to allow you to enter first, but before you hand could even turn to handle, the door flew open. A hard mass ran into you and the next thing you knew, you were on the ground. Your nose scrunched up from the fall and a smooth voice sounded out, "Oh my! I am so sorry. Please, let me..." The voice trailed off as you looked up at the source.

Light periwinkle eye met yours. You studied the tall tanned man before you as he looked at you, not with wariness, but with pure awe. Venti stared at the interaction and then let out a light knowing giggle which snapped both you and the man out of it. The man cleared his throat and held out his hand out towards you and you took it. After you were pulled back to your feet, the man gave you a charming smile, "The name's Kaeya. Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonius." His smooth voice made you feel as though you were being wrapped up in a soft blanket. "I'm y/n", you replied then looked down at where his hand was still holding yours, "You can let go now..."

Kaeya's cheeks reddened immediately and he let go of your hand, letting out an awkward laugh, "Sorry about that." A blonde woman peeked behind Kaeya's shoulder, "And who might this be?" Kaeya stepped aside to allow both you and Jean to get a better look at each other and Venti spoke up, "She's new here and will be staying here for awhile." Jean smiled softly at you, "Then, please, come in. We can discuss any questions you might have and I'll find you a good place to stay while you're here." With that, you entered her office and discussions began.

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After Jean had escorted you to your new home, you were finally alone again. You laid flat on your back against the small, soft twin-sized bed as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. "Things will be different now... Things will be better... At least I hope so...", you spoke aloud to noone. Since it had become late in the day and you were too exhausted to prepare a meal for yourself or purchase clothes that better with this nation, you resigned yourself to head to the tavern Venti spoke so highly of.

Making your way through town as the sun hung low in the sky that casted pink and purple hues over everything, you push open the door to Angel's Share and were instantly greeted with music from a bard you didn't know and drunk patrons laughing and talking loudly throughout the cozy space. Your eyes drifted over to the bar where you spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair. Your heart instantly jumped in your chest at the sight of a familiar hair color that the majority of your nation bore. He made you feel a small comfort with something so familiar.

Without much thought, you strode over to where he was and sat on one of the bar stools that creaked slightly underneath you. The sound caught the man's attention, he paused his wiping of the drinking glass he had been cleaning as his crimson eyes met yours, "What can I get for you?" His voice was deep and almost monotonous, but there was a sense of comfort tied to it. He studied you with a brief curiosity before he apparently decided your different appearance didn't matter to him.

"I'll take a Queimada", you replied instantly earning you a quirked brow from the man. "Apologies, but we don't serve that here. From that choice though, you must be from Natlan, correct?", his question wasn't wary, simply curious as he took in your appearance yet again. You nodded once, "That's right." There was a bit of an awkward pause that the man had no intention of filling, so you were the first to break it, "I'll just take what specialty you serve here." With a nod, he made your drink and set it down in front of you, the golden liquid looked bright and sweet, "Enjoy."

You took a sip and it wasn't long before you had downed 3 more glasses of what you learned to be dandelion wine. You finally cracked a little smile at the brooding man and introduced yourself, to which he finally casted a glance your way for the first time in a while, "I'm Diluc, the owner of Dawn Winery and Angel's Share." His response was gruff though you could tell he meant no harm by it. You both had been fine with the silence between the two of you as you drank what he served you, but with the alcohol that buzzed beneath your skin, you longed for more conversation. Before further conversation could ensue, you heard a familiar sing-song voice calling out to you, "Y/n! Come join us!"

Diluc groaned which made you turn to see the one who called out to you. It was no other than Venti who sat with a smirking Kaeya. You quirked a brow at Diluc to which he gave you a defeated and narrowed look, "Those two cause too much disturbance. It would best if you didn't get too wrapped up with them." But you being you, took that as a bit of challenge, "I can handle it." Diluc rolled his eyes at your response and didn't spare you a second glance as you strolled over to the two men who desired your presence.

Kaeya got up and pulled the chair out for you. One corner of your lips curled up as you gave him a teasing look, "Such a gentleman." He bowed dramatically, playing along, "Of course, my dear~" This display pulled a laugh from you that caused Kaeya to feel a tug on his heart, but he hid it behind a cheeky smile and sat down when you did as well. The night went on and whenever Kaeya got up to retrieve more drinks for both you and Venti, the girls seemed to flock to him. You couldn't help but watch as he never turned down flirtations from the girls and expertly charmed them in return.

You weren't close enough to Kaeya to feel any sort of jealousy, but part of you silently admitted you hated what you saw. That small part of you hoped he treated you and only you like that. What a silly thought to have for someone you had just met earlier that day... Without your knowing, Venti took in your very subtle disheartened look whenever Kaeya charmed someone else. Not that he would particularly do anything with this new information, but he didn't like seeing you unhappy.

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Weeks seemed to pass by quicker than you had expected. Some of the people of Mondstadt were still wary of you and kept their distance, not that you particularly cared much. You were happy with your small group of people you were now considering your friends that consisted of Kaeya, Venti, Diluc, and Jean. You remember being with Jean when you decided you should probably purchase clothes that better fit with the style of Mondstadt. You looked at her as if she were crazy when she came over to your place and handed you an off-the-shoulder long sleeve top, a brown corset, and dark green pants.

She insisted that you put it on and relented with a heavy sigh, going into your bathroom and changing. When you stepped out in the new outfit, Jean looked so proud, "Come on. You should be out and about in this!" You felt awkward leaving your home in an outfit that felt foreign to you, but when the two of you came across Kaeya by the fountain in the center of the city, you felt differently. Jean looked up at him expectantly, "Welllll? What do you think?"

Kaeya stood there stunned at the way you looked. His eye trailed your figure, taking in the swell of the top of your breasts and the way the corset hugged your figure tightly and oh... the pants.... He felt his cock twitch involuntarily and a slight blush crept to his tanned cheeks, "You look more beautiful than ever." You weren't entirely sure of how genuine his words were since the tone of his voice was the same tone he used to charm every other woman who approached him with flirtatious intentions. That small part of you whispered to you that you wanted him to only say those words to you in such a tone, but you knew from what you had observed, that wouldn't ever be likely. Kaeya seemed to belong to everyone.

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As months passed, you felt yourself longing for Kaeya's attention, but he always seemed just out of your grasp even if he spent most of his free time with you and the others. You knew it seemed foolish to have that desire, but you couldn't help how you felt towards him. You two had grown quite close and even shared moments where you felt as though he felt the same way towards you.

One memory you can recall of such an instance is when he insisted on walking you home late at night after quite a few rounds of drinks. The warm air felt comfortable as it brushed through your hair and his as you both walked. The streets were mostly quiet besides the sounds of frogs croaking somewhere in the distance and bugs singing their nightly songs. There was a brief moment in which your hand brushed against his and you muttered a quick apology. Kaeya chuckled softly in response and told you it was fine.

Part of you wished you were brave enough to just take his hand in yours, but instead you were a coward. Once you reached your doorstep, you turned and looked up at Kaeya who gave a soft smile down at you, "Goodnight. Sleep well." His voice and the way he looked at you made you want so much more. You stood there lost in him, wishing he would kiss you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Kaeya tilted his head ever-so slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and lowered his voice, "Are you alright?" You blinked and gave a half-hearted smile, "I'm fine. Must've just had too much to drink..." Kaeya visibly relaxed at your answer, "Well, have a good night then. I should be going now." You kept your half-hearted smile, "Yeah. Goodnight, Kaeya." He gave one more soft smile and turned, walking away into the night.

Another memory you were quite fond of was another time were it had been just you and Kaeya. You were sitting on the edge of Starsnatch Cliff letting your legs dangle as the wind threaded through your hair. "Need some company?" a smooth voice spoke out to you. You turned your head to see a smirking Kaeya approaching. You gave him a slight smile in return and he sat down next to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, but neither of you moved away at the feeling.

Kaeya broke the peaceful silence between you, "Do you come here often?" You barked out a laugh that turned into genuine laughter, “Does that line usually work for you?" Kaeya raised a brow at your response, but once the realization struck him he laughed, "I've never had to use that line before, so you tell me..." He gently grasped your chin and leaned in dangerously close with a smirk, his voice lowered, "Did it work?"

Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned crimson at the closeness and the gesture. You quickly came back to yourself and swatted his hand away, turning you face back to the sprawling view in front of you, "You'll have to try a little harder. Lines like that don't work on me." Kaeya looked amused but also faced to view that captured your attention and spoke nonchalantly, "Guess I'll have to be better next time."

Later that evening, you came home to find three cecelias tied together on a blue string with a little note that read: Hopefully this is an improvement from cheesy pick-up lines. Your heart skipped a beat. This certainly was better than any cheesy pick-up line.

From then, your heart seemed to ache for him even more. But seeing the way he was with every other woman really made you feel like shit, so you turned to the one who knew him best, Diluc.

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It was evening when you made the decision to ask for Diluc's advice, strolling into Angel's Share with a disheartened look. Diluc's crimson eyes met yours as soon as you walked in and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw the look on your face, "What's wrong?"

You sighed and plopped down on one of the bar stools, immediately crossing your arms on top of the bar and resting your forehead down on them. "This is so stupid. I'm so stupid. I hate this...", your voice came out muffled from the position you were in, but Diluc caught the gist of your grumbles. "Come on, lift your head up. How can I possibly help if I can't even hear what's troubling you?", his voice was stern but was mixed with genuine worry. Though Diluc wasn't one to be generally close with others, he felt that all those times he spent around you that he was comfortable with you.

You finally lifted your head and Diluc's somewhat stern expression morphed to pure concern when he saw the tears pricking your eyes. Immediately he announced for everyone to get out of the tavern, stating they were closing early for the night. People grumbled, not wanting their drinking shenanigans to end to early, but they left as they were told. As soon as the tavern was empty, he came from behind the bar and sat next to you, his voice low with worry, "Tell me why you're crying."

You sniffled as tears threatened to spill, "This is so stupid. I shouldn't even be crying." Diluc frowned, "No. Whatever it is, it's making you cry. Not once have I seen you cry while you've been staying here in Mondstadt. So tell me." You bit the inside of your cheek and then relented. As you explained your feelings about Kaeya, the only thing that kept Diluc from confirming that you were indeed stupid to even have feelings for his brother were your tears that continuously rolled down your cheeks.

In a soft gesture that Diluc didn't do for just anyone, he gently wiped one of the tears from your cheek with the pad of his gloved thumb, "Your feelings and concerns aren't stupid, even if I don't agree with you having romantic feelings for Kaeya, I can't disregard them just because I personally dislike him for my own reasons." You looked into his eyes and knew he was being genuine with you, "But what do I even do? I hate feeling like this..." Diluc frowned as he tried to come up with a proper response for something he had never dealt with before, "Try to distract yourself. Put your focus on yourself and when you're ready, start to focus on someone new."

You pondered his words for a moment with shaky breaths, "But what if I can't?" Diluc gently grabbed your shoulders and leaned closer to you, "You can. You're a strong woman, so don't doubt yourself." For some reason his words made you cry again, perhaps not from sadness, moreso from feeling too much at once. This startled Diluc and he did what he thought would be best to calm you. He stood up and brought you into his arms in a warm, comforting embrace. He held you and smoothed your hair as you cried into his chest.

One thing the two of you did not know what Kaeya was there just outside the tavern, having watched this exchange from the front window. He didn't know what had been said between the two of you, but seeing the way Diluc wiped your tears in an intimate gesture and held you against him in his arms made something twist in Kaeya's stomach. So, you had supposedly chosen Diluc. Maybe you wanted Diluc this whole time. Kaeya witnessing what had just happened seemed to bring a sense of finality to his question. To him, you chose his brother.

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Ever since that night, you had noticed that Kaeya seemed to be avoiding you which made you feel incredibly worse. You wanted to listen to Diluc's advice and push past your feelings for Kaeya since he seemed so unattainable. Kaeya would still spend some evenings with you and the others, but more frequently began to find excuses for why he couldn't join you all. When he was around you, he still had that mischievous charm, that sweet but sly smirk, and kind compliments that he gave to you. He seemed the same as ever, but with the growing distance, you weren't sure what to think.

You made yourself believe that you were fine with this. Diluc said to keep your distance as well so you tried to not let it get to you whenever Kaya couldn't join you are the group. But fuck, it did bother you. So fucking much. Will this heartache ever go away? No.

Apparently you were only getting ready to be completely heartbroken.

You couldn't have known what you were about to walk into. How could you have? You had gone to the tavern as usual, already accepting that Kaeya said he wouldn't be able to make it for whatever made up excuse he came up with this time. You sat at the bar having some light-hearted conversation with Diluc and throwing back a drink or maybe more than just one. Your brain was swimming with the alcohol you had consumed and excused yourself to the bathroom to splash your face with water to sober up a little.

Before you could even make it there, you heard a familiar laugh.

Kaeya's laugh. Your first thought was that it was a comforting sound only for your second thought to come barrelling in. What was he doing here? He said he couldnt make it so why the hell were you hearing his laughter? With the alcohol flooding your mind and heating your body, you went to find the source.

The sound of his flirtatious, sultry voice could not be mistaken for someone else's. The voice carried you to the second floor of Angel's Share. And there he was. He wasn't alone. Some pretty little blonde stood there, leaning over his table and propping herself up on her elbows as her ass stuck out in the position she put herself in. You couldn't hear what either of them said because the pounding of your heart filled your ears.

You stood there in some kind of stupor, frozen in place. The next thing you knew, the girls lips were on his. You didn't stay to see what happened next. You raced down the stairs. This caught Diluc's attention. The sight of you racing towards him looking as though you had seen a ghost. He didn't hesitate for even a second when you begged him to take you home, claiming that you couldn't bear to be alone right then. Tossing the tavern's keys to Charles, who caught them effortlessly and took over as if this was nothing new to him.

Diluc held you by your waist protectively as you both walked quickly out of Angel's Share and towards your home. He didn't speak, feeling it wasn't the right moment to ask you anything. As soon as you both entered your home and Diluc shut the door, rain began to pelt against the windows and you threw yourself in his arms and sobbed.

❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ

Diluc held you for what seemed like hours as you wet the front of his shirt with your tears, your fingers clutching the fabric as if he were your lifeline. He didn't mind it so much, he just wanted you to feel better and if holding you and letting you cry against him was what you wanted, he would stay like just like this.

You meant something to him, even though it wasn't in a romantic sense, you were deeply important to him. After what seemed like forever, he tilted your head up gently so you would look up at him, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. But just know that I’m here and I’m listening.” You drew in shaky breaths, your body trembling from all the crying, “He was there. With someone else. She… They… They kissed.”

Diluc's expression of concern morphed to anger and he held you close once again as you began to cry once more, but softly this time.

Why was his brother so fucking stupid? Didn't Kaeya know what you felt for him? Couldn't he even tell?

It took a long time for you to calm down, but with Diluc keeping his arms wrapped around you as you listened to him breathe and softly soothe you helped immensely. When you looked up at him again he gave a sad smile, "Will you be alright by yourself tonight?" You wiped your tear-stained cheeks and let out a breath, "I'll be okay... You've done enough for me already...”

He brushed away a strand of your hair that was stuck to your wet cheek, "Are you sure?" You gave a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Promise. Now go home. I've kept you long enough." Diluc huffed at your answer but he wouldn't push you to change your mind.

If you said you would be okay, he would believe you. He gently grasped you shoulders and spoke in earnest, "Don't hesitate to come to the winery if you find you can't be alone later. My doors will be open for you." You smiled slightly at that and thanked him. Diluc pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before turning on his heels and heading out into the pouring rain.

❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ❅*ִ

You change into a nightgown, get a fire started in your little fireplace, and make yourself a cup of hot tea. You hold the warm mug in both of your hands as you watched the steam rise. The rain didn't seem to be letting up any time soon, but that was fine with you. It suits your mood. You take a sip of your tea and let the warmth fill your body as your eyes trail after a raindrop that was rolling down your window.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a desperate knock on your door. Your heart clenched tightly when you heard the voice on the other side, "Y/n. It's me. Please, please let me in. Let me talk to you." It was Kaeya. A small part of you held a flicker of hope when you heard it was him, but the other part of you felt even worse. The knocking and desperate pleas to be let in continued as you weighed whether you should open the door and hear what he had to say.

A crack of thunder reminded you that it was pouring outside and Kaeya must be absolutely soaked. You would feel bad if he got horribly sick, so with a heavy sigh you open the door.

There he was, looking down into your eyes with a gaze full of turmoil, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?" his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache. You frown up at him, but step to the side to let him in without a word. Kaeya steps in and water droplets roll off of him, dripping to your wooden floors.

You set down your mug on the small wooden table that still held the now dried-out cecelias he had given you some time ago, "Let me get you a towel." Before you could turn to do as you said from your bathroom, his large hand grabbed your wrist. Kaeya pulled you back towards him, almost making you stumble, "No, let me speak first You blink up at him, opening your mouth to protest, but you quickly close it and sigh heavily. The fire crackles to your left and you decide to speak, "Let's at least sit in front of the fire. ... don't want you getting sick because of this." Kaeya let go of your wrist and nodded.

You both sit on the intricately designed rug as the fire crackles and casts a warm, orange glow on both of you. You avoid looking at him, staring at the flames instead when you speak softly, "I don't really want to talk to you right now, but you seem to have something to say. The least I can do is listen." Kaeya runs a hand through his damp blue hair, "I'm sorry for avoiding you occasionally." You huff, "No, I get it. You were seeing someone else so-" "What are you even talking about??", Kaeya cuts you off.

You finally turn your head to look at him with an incredulous look, "Seriously, Kaeya? I saw you tonight with that girl. You were kissing." Kaeya groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, "It's not like that." "Then what else could it possibly be?", you snap. "If you're seeing someone then just say so, I'II be fine." His jaw clenches, "Of course you'd be fine, you're with my brother." Your jaw drops at the words,"What are you saying? I'm not with anyone, certainly not Diluc for that matter. We aren't together."

Kaeya scoffs, "Well you sure looked awfully cozy when he wiped away your tears and held you some nights ago at Angel's Share. And you seem to spend an awful lot of time with him these days." "That only happened because I was crying over my aching feelings for you!", you raise your voice and immediately regret letting your words slip so easily. Kaeya stares at you in shock for a moment before speaking softly, "..What?"

Tears threaten to prick the inner corners of your eyes, but you turn to face to fire again, "My feelings don't matter. As I said earlier, you have that girl." Kaeya leans in towards you, "Look at me." His voice was soft, but with a commanding desperation. You finally spare him a glance, tears welling up in your eyes. He puts his palm to your cheek and caresses it, "I'm not with the girl that you saw. I didn't even know who she was.” A tear rolls down your cheek and your voice breaks when you speak, "Then why did you kiss her?"

His thumb swipes away the rolling tear and his forehead presses against yours, "She kissed me and I pushed her away right after she did that. You can ask the others that were up there, I'm being honest here." A few more tears fall and he holds you face with both hands now, forehead still pressed to yours as he speaks in a hushed voice, "You're the only I want. The only one I've been wanting since you came here." Your teary eyes search his eye, looking for any trace of dishonesty but you could find none, only truth. His breath fans against your face as he speaks again, "You're the one who has my heart. No one else. I mean it, truly."

You don't even think, you just act. Your lips press against his, startling him at first but he soon melts into it. His lips move in rhythm with yours. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. Your nightgown getting wet as you pressed against his rain-soaked body.

The kiss becomes more desperate and you find yourself laying flat against the rug with Kaeya caging you in underneath him as the fire crackles and pops beside the two of you. "Tell me you want this just as much as I do", his voice came out almost shaky between heavy breaths. Your soft hand caresses his cheek and down to the back of his neck as you pulled him down to you, "More than anything, I need you."

That was all it took for him to hastily unbutton his shirt and and shrug it off his body, his pants came off just as swiftly. You lay there in awe of his tanned, muscular body and your eyes trailed down the light blue happy trail that led down to a small tuft of tangled blue and a heavy, throbbing cock with a pink, leaking tip. If you had been just anyone, he would've smirked at your reaction, but right now was not the time for teasing. He made quick work of you nightgown, tossing it unceremoniously behind him. Your breasts moved in time with you heavy breaths and he took in every inch of your body, "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you...” His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

Kaeya lowered himself down and spread your thighs gently. His breath is hot against your sensitive pussy and makes you long for him even more. His uncovered eye flits up to your face and just as quickly as he look up at you, his tongue began to flick against your clit. You draw in a sharp breath as your back arches off the rug in time with a sporadic pop from the fireplace. He groans with need when his tongue licks through your folds and laps at the taste of you.

Your legs begin to shake from the intensity of it all and you tangle your fingers in his still slightly damp hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your grind your pussy against his tongue as he pushes you over the edge into white-hot bliss. You cry out his name when his tongue gives one more flick to your now overly sensitive clit. When he moves up towards your blissful face, you can see your own juices glistening against his lips. You don't even care that you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue when Kaeya kisses you with a deep passion.

His aching cock rubs against your wet pussy as his tongue dances with yours. Kaeya pulls back just enough that your lips still graze against each other as he speaks, "Please.." That's all he says with a breathless voice as his eye gazes into yours with so much love and desperation. You nod once and it was all it took for him to be lined up with your entrance and pushing in slowly. His eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a broken moan as he pushes his length into your warm, wet walls.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him against your body tightly as you release breathy moans. Once fully sheathed, Kaeya stills inside of you, letting you adjust to his thickness and length that were foreign to you. He presses a soft kiss to your neck as he pulls out slightly then slams back into you, making you dig your nails into his shoulders. He hisses at the feeling but doesn't stop his movement, "Fuck, you feel so good. Tell me you're mine. Please, angel, tell me you're mine." His voice was so desperate as he spoke between deep thrusts and whining groans. "I'm yours, Kaeya. Always was yours. Forever yours", you cry out as tears spill from your eyes yet again but for an entirely different reason.

Your heart feels like it is overflowing with emotion that you can't even begin to put into words. Kaeya's lips meet yours feverishly as he thrusts relentlessly into you. His cock hitting the deepest parts of you and you wrap your legs around his waist. "Gonna cum, angel", he breathes against your lips and soon your name becomes like a prayer falling repeatedly from his lips. Barely a moment later, Kaeya moans loudly and his cock throbs and twitches erratically as hot, white ropes of cum fill you. Your pussy contracts tightly around his in response as you hold him even tighter and cry out in time with the booming thunder outside your home.

Kaeya relaxes on top of you, his chest heaving and sweat glistening in the glow of the dying fire. He rolls off of you but turns towards you. You turn your head to take in his features and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "So this is what love feels like, huh?"

Your heart flutters in your chest and you turn your body fully towards him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close against him. You press your face against his chest and he kisses the top of your head. You finally speak, your voice soft, "You must be right."

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

a/n: i went through all the stages of grief while writing this🥲

[centrally-unplanned]

As I normally do, I very much enjoyed Folding Idea's latest video, an interpretative discussion/cinematography flex about James Rolfe aka Angry Video Game Nerd. Anyone treating the history of the internet with the depth it contains, as a culture & medium unto itself, is gonna get a win in my book.

It also hit on a point I find myself always coming back to in cultural history; how often people confuse chronology & causation. The Angry Video Game nerd is, of course, one of the most influential "Youtubers" to ever exist, by virtue of being one of the first ever do, in video format, media reviews via a comedic lens. There are years where you can say he was the center of the whole genre. He inspired legions of imitators, some incredibly directly referencing him in their identity, and when you talk to a ~30 year old online creator today who does things adjacent to that space, you can bet good money they watched AVGN when they were a teen.

(I didn't - my stereotypical influence is the Red Letter Media Prequel Reviews)

But is he that influential? Depends on your meaning, of course. Because when you ask people what that influence is, they say something like "pioneering comedic, caustic, hyperbolic review video essays". Which, he did, but he invented none of those parts. As the above video outlines, caustic, exaggerated reviews of media have been around for about as long as reviews have existed as a consumer product; making them entertaining for their own sake is an incredibly logical leap to take. AVGN was coming around in a time where slapstick violence and faux-rage was entirely the vibe of the internet; Penny Arcade had been doing its thing for over half a decade before AVGN's first video was published.

And more importantly, video content in those days was obviously going to lean towards things like comedy and "skit" styles compared to say text reviews, because it complemented the medium better. It takes a lot of niche craft to make a rage speech pop on text; it's much more accessible to just be a good actor and be visibly raging. Going even more downstream, the "media mix" of people consuming content about the art they like or engage with was so old hat by the 2000's that consumer brands were using it as fucking jargon in marketing meetings. There isn't a world where this kind of content would not have appeared. It had to, the culture demanded it.

This is no grand dig at AVGN of course - this is to some extent true of all artists. As Olsen's video notes, what set AVGN apart was that James Rolfe was not a game reviewer; he was a filmographer, he had gone to film school, he was trying to make movies. Which in 2004 meant that he had a ton of cameras and lighting and equipment to make viable content in a way others did not. He had a technological advantage in exploring a new medium, one that would fade as webcams and lighting rings became as cheap as dirt, or shift as markets for crazy stuff like vtuber rigs would evolve. And of course the specific way he went about his content did imprint itself on the medium.

But not thaaat much; I think time has not been kind to AVGN. The humor is of course dated to its time, the MTV's Jackass of video game reviews. And as the medium of self-published video essays has evolved, the medium discovered approaches far better than comedic skit shows. Much longer content is possible, you can ride on parasociality and authenticity instead of endless "joke moments" (Or go the reverse - every comedy video from the old days is too long, a tiktok-level joke stretched over 5 minutes). Some of this was tech dependent as well, of course - youtube had duration limits on uploads in 2005! Making 4 hour Star Wars Hotel videos was not possible outside of stringing "Part 1 of 37" video playlists together. But time and culture marches on as well, and I don't think the average creator today is pulling from 2005 Youtube much at all, really. They are different eras.

As mentioned, if you ever deal with doing causation in cultural history, you run into this all the time - people essentially going "work X was first, and therefore invented the genre and influenced all after". And I don't think it really works that way - establishing causation just takes far more detail than that.

[remus-poopin]

I can attest that being good at sports doesn’t always translate on the dance floor, but I’ll take your answer! And to continue on a musical streak, here’s some more

Which marauder?

- Most likely to pick up an instrument (and what would it be!)

- Most likely to be into disco

- Has a good singing voice

- Sings in the shower

- Brought a record player to school (or a wizard variation of this technology)

- Has the best music taste (goes out of their way to discover new music, wizard or muggle!)

- Was the best dj at Gryffindor parties

- Secretly likes Celestina Warbeck

- Who danced with who at Lily and James’s wedding?

Oh for sure but being coordinated is a step in the right direction. I definitely don’t see any of them as particularly good dancers though lol.

Ok because this is music based I’m going to take this time to talk about my ideas on the wizarding world and music:

I really don’t think the wizarding world consumes music the way the muggle world does. I just don’t think that it’s that much of a part of the average wizard’s life.

When the statute of secrecy came into place in the 17th century it was before music became commercially available to the masses. The biggest reason for its turn to being accessible is technology. We never actually hear of any records or anything similar that could play music on demand in the books. The only way we hear about music playing is in a live performance or through the wizarding wireless. It’s notable that there only seems to be one station for wizards, a station that isn’t exclusively playing The Weird Sisters or Celestina Warbeck but also having news reports and lifestyle tip segments. Which makes me believe that music (or at least pop music) is more of a novelty for wizards to enjoy instead of a daily fixture in their lives.

I also think that the wizard pop music we do hear about is less about the music itself and more about wizarding pride. It’s taking something enjoyable but muggle and turning it distinctly wizard (Celestina Warbecks lyrics being inextricably tied to wizarding culture; “You charmed the heart right out of me” “oh come stir my cauldron” “Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? It’s left me for a spell”. The name of the band “The Hobgoblins”. The Weird Sisters’ name and the fact that they use instruments like the lute and bagpipes, which are not typically found in rock music, (which also might give us a hint of what traditional wizard music sounds like)).

So I think the amount of modern wizard music is very low and the appeal of it is that it’s a symbol of a cultural pride. Which means if a wizard was going to really be into modern music they would have to look elsewhere than just the WWN.

Moving on to the questions:

- Most likely to pick up an instrument (and what would it be!)

I’ve always liked the hc that Sirius’ parents had him take piano lessons as a kid. But @superfallingstars mentioned Lupin playing guitar once (but in a sad lame guy way) and it really stuck in my head.

- Most likely to be into disco

None of them are cool enough to like disco. Lily however…

- Has a good singing voice

Sirius. I’m mostly going off of the fact that he is the only one we see sing (and Harry doesn’t find it offensive so it was probably decent enough)

- Sings in the shower

James, purely vibes for this one.

- Brought a record player to school (or a wizard variation of this technology)

Possibly Sirius, maybe he charmed it down to be smaller and lighter.

- Has the best music taste (goes out of their way to discover new music, wizard or muggle!)

I always have Lupin in my mind as someone who really enjoys music due to his halfblood upbringing and his loneliness as a child. I just imagine him as someone who got a lot of comfort from jazz records from his mom or the 60s pop songs on the radio when he had no one to talk to. However I think he would cling to those sounds and not really expand his taste that much.

Sirius on the other hand is someone I can see going out to find new muggle music as an act of rebellion and falling in love with it (I’m a Sirius loves punk rock truther! However I don’t think he was punk, big distinction!).

My (unfinished!) Remus playlist vs my Sirius one for reference:

- Was the best dj at Gryffindor parties

I think being a dj requires you to be in tune with the crowd and be adaptable and I’m not sure Sirius would excel in that. Remus however would. He also has enough musical knowledge to help him out here.

- Secretly likes Celestina Warbeck

I feel like James’ parents might have listened to her at home and he would have developed a fondness for the sound.

- Who danced with who at Lily and James's wedding?

James and Sirius (it definitely wasn’t gay)

Lily and Peter

Lily and Sirius

James and Remus (had to drag him to the dance floor)

Thanks for the ask! These were super fun ahh!

[iheartchv]

hihi I’d like to request a dmc male matchup please! (also, I’m happy to make this an exchange if you would like! my requests say closed but I’m still happy to take an exchange, completely up to you!)

appearance: 5’7”, long light blonde hair, i have glasses but usually wear contacts. i don’t have one specific style but i love alternative and girly styles especially. i put lots of effort into my fashion and makeup.

personality: ENFP, very talkative, outgoing and loud. im quite often joking around but I have the capacity to be serious if needed. im on the more sensitive side and my feelings will guide my decisions before my mind does. everyone says I can be very dramatic haha. i do take a bit of time to be open and vulnerable though. I am extremely loyal, ride or die. i stand up for what I believe in firmly (but I don’t like causing a lot of trouble really, im not intimidating at all and i can’t fight 😅) im a typical sagittarius- extremely creative and always craving new adventures and experiences- unless they involve heights then I’m totally out lol.

my likes: travelling, throwing myself into any artistic hobby I can manage, having my music on full blast (i love rock, metalcore etc but im also a sucker for pop and kpop. hell, i even love a musical soundtrack. whatever I’m feeling.) i love both consuming and creating stories, and I love certain aspects of history. things like greek and roman mythology, or monarchies and culture from thousands of years ago. i also love geeking out over video games, cartoons etc.

in a partner i don’t have a set type much. introvert or extrovert is fine so long as you’re willing to have long conversations with me. i can talk for hours about basically anything. im the physically affectionate type but only with an s/o, not really with anyone else at all. i like when someone knows how to flirt a little, but it’s not a necessity. im just lowkey a sucker for cheesy romance.

i think that’s all. I hope this is ok! thank youu :D 💕

//I'm curious who you'd pair me up with, so I'll send you a PM with my info x3; hope you like your match ^v^/~♡

🤔 I'd pair you with...

Virgil 🗡💙

Possible matches: Sparda

I think you'd be a perfect match for Virgil

Your personality balances out his

You're basically his opposite

One can't live or exist without the other

.....

But ofc at first he thinks you're too loud and talk too much

You take no offense to it, you just let it roll off your shoulder and just tell him to 'lighten up more'

Being with you sparks something inside him

It's more like a rekindling of a flame

He felt his human side trying to surface but always drowned it out

You, however, unintentionally bring that side of him out...

He'll deny anything when he stares at you, admiring you, or he saves you from any danger

But you know better

You could only smile to yourself as you feel yourself falling for this white haired half demon in blue

💙

He'll listen to you prattle on about your cartoon and other media you like

He'll make a mental note to research more about whatever you were talking about so he could have some conversations on that topic

But he'll start to talk with you more with history or philosophical topics

The more he listens to you, the more he likes hearing your voice

He will take the excuse of being quiet as listening to you... while he looks over you, memorizing every small detail of your face

You'll be the first to make a move

But Virgil will be the one to engage in more displays of affection when he's alone with you; he'll kiss you, hold you tight against him

Deep down he wants to make you his but he holds back... he doesn't know for how long though

It's been so long since he's been with anyone

But you're the one he wants

And whether he admits it or not, you make him a better man

He will tell you he loves you in his own way

But during a few intimate moments he will outright say "I love you" after hearing you say it plenty of times

He will have an inkling of knowing why his father loved his mother

He wants more, he wants more with you

The one thing he thinks about now is what it would be like to not have you in his life

One thing he doesn't want to happen is what happened to his mother: she died trying to protect him and Dante

He doesn't want that to happen to you at all; he doesn't want you to die

"Promise me that you'll let me protect you... till the end"

"You've already saved me... in more ways than you know"

💍

He gives you a ring he had picked up, telling you to wear it and never take it off

With how his life is, demons coming to try to challenge and kill him for his father's power, this could be the closest you could get for a wedding and wedding vows

[dropintomanga]

Get That Bit of Chunibyo Inside You

"We must have a bit of 'chūnibyō' inside us. The fact is we like manga because of the moral within that could touch us emotionally, and we have to behave as we are taught from these media." -Chloe Lisa Kung, Organizer of Rainbow Gala 30, Source: Rainbow Gala 30 and the End of an Era: Hong Kong's Biggest Doujinshi Convention Set to Shutter

I stumbled across an Anime News Network article about a Hong Kong doujinshi event, Rainbow Gala, possibly not existing anymore after a long run in a convention center set to be demolished in the near future.

The organizer, Chloe Lisa Kung, was asked about the future and what led to the impending doom of her event. She spoke about how Hong Kong youth aren't allowed to thrive or chase creative pursuits. Kung lamented on how there's no breeding grounds for young artists to shine or inspiration for art in Hong Kong compared to almost 30 years ago when she started to draw at the age of 12 after seeing doujinshi art.

It does make me think about Hong Kong's anime culture today. I remember visiting Mong Kok Shopping Center back in 2009 and it felt like going to Akihabara in some ways. Every floor was filled with anime, manga, video games, artbooks, toys, etc. When I hear about Hong Kong now, I hear that it's "dead." And reading what Kung said now makes me hesitant to go back there in some way. I do feel that Hong Kong is a bit too commercialized at times. I never liked Canto-pop much and listened to counter-cultural Cantonese music. While anime has always been popular in Asia, it does feel like there's a very genuine communal vibe in that part of the world when it comes to anime/manga fandom and outside forces are slowly stripping that away as everyone wants to jump in on the fan convention train.

There's something that Kung says about the future of Rainbow Gala that makes me think about fans in general and the growing appeal of anime to doujin artists.

"Indeed, there are more consumers now than ever, but the most important lead still lies in the people inside drawing."

I think about the kids who draw manga after watching an episode of anime. I think about the various drawings I've seen over the years of their favorite characters. Sure, some adults will find it "cute" and suggest that it's just a "phase." But to me, the magic starts to happen there.

There's so many consumers, but not enough people to create stuff that can touch lives. It's hard to be creative. Creativity is often devalued due to a general obsession over measurable outcomes.

Kung's words about learning from manga also make me think about how much manga has meant to me. While I did write that I needed mahjong to save me, manga is still what I care about the most. A lot of my mannerisms and attitudes still come from manga. I try to incorporate my manga reading experiences into how I behave. Sometimes, I make blunders, but I still try.

I think about how most fans aren't like me and countless others who use their love to talk about manga on the internet (shout-outs to the bloggers, YouTubers, and podcasters that promote manga in their way). What drove us to start talking about our love to manga to people who don't know us in person? What drove us to become more than just consumers? How do we cultivate that mindset? Those are questions that I'm still trying to get the answers for.

I can only speak for myself in that my own personal mental health experiences combined with the environment I grew up in made me want to blog in the first place. I continue to do so because of how much manga has grown in the past few years. I know it's not just a phase for some youth.

Until then, I'm proud to say that I still got a bit of 8th grade syndrome in me. I'm proud to say that stuff that's mostly read by teens still gets me pumped to seize the day. I'm proud to be a fan that wishes for future creators and their youthful enthusiasm to be treasured as much as the mainstream works that inspired them.

[upalldown]

Olivia Rodrigo - Guts

Second album from the American singer and actress produced by Dan Nigro

9/13

There was a moment, in the first half of 2021, where adults felt a pressing need to announce to the world why they liked Olivia Rodrigo. The young, bright-eyed Disney Channel actress and songwriter had just gone through her first teenage heartbreak, and had poured her emotions into a “drivers license” (her devastating first single that topped the charts), and then again on her debut album, SOUR—which also topped the charts, won a few Grammys and catapulted the 17-year-old into global pop stardom.

Socially starved, we relished living through her innocence and naivety as she navigated her deep pain. We cried remembering high school heartbreaks that may or may not have happened (though, shockingly, first heartbreaks can actually happen at any age). We used the words “nostalgic” and “geriatric” and “millennial” a lot. What does all that outsized attention do to a teenager with no chance to hone her craft on a smaller stage, whose debut was already hailed as a classic, generation defining voice? In a 2021 piece for The Ringer, Julia Gray noted of our fascination with Rodrigo’s age and SOUR’s ‘00s-era musical influences as a “fixation with dated pop culture relics…We don’t see Olivia Rodrigo for who she is as an artist, but who she is when we project ourselves onto her.”

It’s fitting then, that Rodrigo’s second album, GUTS, begins with “all-american bitch,” an ironic gem that arrives as a gentle, folksy ballad before making a heel turn into a pop punk kiss-off to her idolizers: “I am built like a mother and a total machine,” she sings angelically over a light, fairytale-like guitar plucking. When the full band kicks in and rocks out in the chorus, it’s apparent just how much the now-20-year-old has been holding in all these years: “I don’t get angry when I’m pissed / I’m the eternal optimist / I scream inside to deal with it,” she chants, tauntingly, before actually screaming her guts out. This is about more than just adulthood: GUTS is a brash, sobering look at the totality of fame on a young woman—how it consumes, abuses and isolates.

On SOUR, Rodrigo wore her sadness and rage as armor; her emotions were intense but predictable; and the music hinted at a brighter sky beyond the stormy weather. Not so on GUTS, where bad decisions are encouraged, death is preferable over socializing and every playboy can be fixed. On the dizzy, jangly-rock “bad idea right?,” she willingly ignores her mind’s rational pleas to have one more tryst with an ex, while on the soaring ballad “logical,” she attempts to reason with her own lovesick feelings by believing the impossible: “‘Cause if rain don’t pour and sun don’t shine / Then changing you is possible / I guess love is never logical.” The stakes are higher in these new loves built on power and age differentials—and the consequences cut a lot deeper. “I know I’m half-responsible / And that makes me feel horrible,” she repeatedly sings near the song’s end, soft and fragile, embedded in a wilting layer of synths.

There’s so much self-deprecation and internalized blaming here, which could be viewed as a depressing cry for help if it wasn’t so much fun to listen to. Rodrigo, along with her songwriting and producing partner Dan Nigro, plays with abrupt changes in voice and structure in these otherwise heady tracks, as if to signal that she knows just how absurd she’s being. “ballad of a homeschooled girl,” a rollicking, bratty emo highlight, has her crying out in embarrassment over the most minuscule social faux-pas in a breathless chorus: “I broke a glass, I tripped and fell / I told secrets I shouldn’t tell / I stumped over all my words / I made it weird, I made it worse.” Soaring into a dispiriting line that sounds euphoric—“Each time I step outside / It’s social suicide”—Rodrigo quickly dips into a nonchalant chorus of “ahs,” dismissing her anxious headspace with a shrug.

Meanwhile, the raucous “get him back!” almost positions her as drunk and pleading to a friend at a party, as she raps in a muffled tone trying to make the case for her cheating ex: “But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends / And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end.” A sing-songy chorus drives the point home, as she flutters between what she really wants (“I want sweet revenge and I want him again”)—but it’s the track’s bridge where Rodrigo lets her rage boil up. “I wanna key his car / I wanna make him lunch,” she quietly sneers amid backing chants and a choppy guitar, ramping up the viciousness of her anger and letting it out in a gleeful squeal.

And yet, even with all of Rodrigo’s Kathleen Hanna yelps and fiery screams, I almost wish GUTS was a little more punk than it is rock: Its production seems too clean at times, its fadeouts too exact, and its structural changes too accurate. But the honesty of her rage is still refreshing and, at times, comes across as more earnest than the debut single that turned her into a superstar. Beneath the cannonball of her voice and the album’s thunderous sounds, there is a soft fragility waiting to be absorbed. Anger comes from having no total grasp of the unknown, from the realization that growth is a never ending process.

On SOUR’s opening track, Rodrigo wished for her own “teenage dream;” now that phrase titles GUTS album closer—a reflective lament on the pressures of fame and the fear of not living up to the world’s expectations: “They all say that it gets better / It gets better the more you grow,” she lightly sighs, “They all say that it gets better / It gets better, but what if I don’t?” Raising her voice from that fluttering falsetto to a stronger, yet panicked belt, Rodrigo brings her deepest fears to the surface. These are emotions you don’t need to reminisce on, as long as you let them float within you—as long as you know when to let them go.

[girl4music]

Wow. No wonder this video game and its story is so beloved by horror enthusiasts. It essentially just goes on to prove what I’ve always said. You never see what’s outside of your own consciousness. You never see the world - your environment - for what it really, truly is …

Odds are it isn’t anything at all. But that’s such a meaningless understanding for someone who doesn’t believe that life and what it can mean is of your own making and therefore the way you see it is because you see it YOUR way. No other way. No one else’s way.

But Silent Hill 2 - if what was explained in this video is true - that is a piece of art/entertainment that just shows you that life is an interpretation station. That it’s based on conception and perception. You may repress what you think, feel, believe and so you hate the way that it is because you hate yourself and just view everyone and everything as your enemy even if they’ve never meant any harm to you or to ever come to you.

Or you may engage with it as a friend, a guide or a saviour. You may see it the way a child would see it because a child has no such preconceptions of evil so even if the world is truly bleak, hard and painful… a child’s innocence naturally colours, eases and heals it. And I think out of the very few characters in this game… I would say Laura is the most interesting one because of how much life experience she has yet to experience.

Everybody else is so full of lore of trauma and hardship. And then there’s Laura. Basically a blank slate aside from the few significant interactions she’s had in life. And it’s interesting how the only person she resents is James all because of what Mary told her about him. Which also proves how easily and quickly an adult can condition a child’s mind. Especially one they look up to.

So as for my take away on this story… I’m certainly not going to blame Mary for conditioning Laura as she probably never even meant to - diseased mind and all - but it does teach you something pretty damn profound about a lesson I remind myself of as often as possible.

Hurt people hurt people.

All of the characters I would say teach you this lesson in many different ways but I would say it’s most important and poignant with Laura because she still has way too many years to live and being that conditioned so early in life will take its toll all throughout those many years and she will unfortunately get to the same point as everyone else does in this game. Irrevocably damaged.

But as I said… I can see why this video game and story is both so beloved and reviled in equal measure by so many different people. You can’t really be indifferent to a game or story like this. You’ll either love it or hate it.

There’s just too much going on in it to be neutral on it.

So in saying this and despite how much I understand it… I love it. But that’s not a surprise. I love anything that makes me think. Especially if it challenges me.

I’ll never play this game. I’m too much of a coward to.

But I have to say that it’s a great fucking horror story!

Why is it a great fucking horror story?

We’re still talking about it to this day.

And I often find that’s the key to something being just pop culture or a full-on cult classic. We’re still talking. We’re still thinking. We’re still engaging and adding.

No true piece of art/entertainment ever dies when there’s consciousness around to keep giving it life. Art/entertainment comes and goes all the time. But what sticks around is timeless because life keeps it going.

It’s something not just remembered but repurposed. For an entirely new generation of people to latch on to.

I think that’s so incredible that I stay here to share what I can about what I love and am most passionate about because it gives me just as much life and purpose back and I think there’s value in people gaining life so much more so than there is than in consuming lifelessness because I don’t think of “life” as a permanent thing. I never have. I think of it as a continuation of things. And what happens when you consume any media that can give out what you’ve put in - that’s what really happens.

It continues. You exchange your energy with its energy and it grows with you and within you - and vice versa. So all true art/entertainment is timeless because it belongs to everybody and nobody at the same time.

[skepticalarrie]

i am quite new to larry. i’m in my twenties but still fully missed the whole one direction phenomenon until two weeks ago when I saw one (1) tiktok of harry performing satellite and it has been all consuming since. what’s so strange to me about the whole experience (and i know this is not unique) is there’s no way i have thought of to talk about it with anyone irl. like how do i convincingly impress upon anyone how sincere i am in saying that these two former members of the 21st century’s most ubiquitous (and straightest™) boyband — including pop culture’s current golden boy — are actually exceedingly queer and closeted and now soul crushingly important to me as a queer person??? it’s just so contrary to the commonly accepted narrative of them, which i know is the whole damn point, but jesus. all i’ve been able to do is say “hey you should do some research about one direction lore, it’s interesting” and hope my friends accidentally fall down the rabbit hole too. tis a wild and wacky time.

This message would never feel as relatable to me as it feels right now. Because you’re right, it’s not a thing you really talk about in real life, it sounds insane.

I want to share something about Harry, specifically. I wasn’t sure if I would want to share that in the first place, but since you just sent this ask I thought it would fit this discussion just right and it literally just happened in my life. I’m sure a lot of people can relate to that. I’ve been a fan for several years now and I always got away just fine with it with people IRL, I don’t really talk much about it. But apparently now everyone in my social circle is completely in love with golden boy Harry Styles, and well… people happened to notice within the last year I’m a big fan. I just went to a bunch of his shows last week and people definitely noticed that even more. I had A LOT of friends coming to me saying all kinds of things, but mostly how hot he is. *Thank god he’s single now* was something I’ve had to sit through a couple of times. And fuck… it was by far the most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in all the years of being a fan, it was intense, he truly causes a reaction on people and I wasn’t expecting that. The kind of things some people say about artists just because they’re famous is just… yikes. And I’m talking about friends of mine, good people, treating him like a piece of meat, like he’s not human. People don’t even realise he’s just a normal guy behind all the fame and marketing. And I’m not going to be hypocritical and say I never treated artists like that because I must have at some point, it’s such an easy concept but somehow it’s very hard to realise how human they are unless you *really* look at them and listen to what they’re saying.

Anyway, it was a very devastating situation. I was uncomfortable enough once or twice to tell people to give up thirsting over him because he wouldn’t fuck them anyway, and they should look it up online because he was definitely not straight. I was *angry*, it really got to me. And people actually looked at me like I had completely lost my fucking mind. Like, what do you mean you don’t want to fuck him?? why do you love him so much then?? So it’s what you said, maybe some of them will look up and accept the idea that closeting may be a possibility, and that’s why a lot of queer fans connect with him so much... but who the fuck knows, they probably won’t. But it truly hit me like a ton of bricks how far deep in the closet he is, most people (in my very LGBTQ+ circle) don’t even consider the possibility even though he’s out there waving pride flags every single show and defying gender norms. I’m definitely keeping it more to myself now than I was before.

[fozmeadows]

race & culture in fandom

For the past decade, English language fanwriting culture post the days of LiveJournal and Strikethrough has been hugely shaped by a handful of megafandoms that exploded across AO3 and tumblr – I’m talking Supernatural, Teen Wolf, Dr Who, the MCU, Harry Potter, Star Wars, BBC Sherlock – which have all been overwhelmingly white. I don’t mean in terms of the fans themselves, although whiteness also figures prominently in said fandoms: I mean that the source materials themselves feature very few POC, and the ones who are there tended to be done dirty by the creators.

Periodically, this has led POC in fandom to point out, extremely reasonably, that even where non-white characters do get central roles in various media properties, they’re often overlooked by fandom at large, such that the popular focus stays primarily on the white characters. Sometimes this happened (it was argued) because the POC characters were secondary to begin with and as such attracted less fan devotion (although this has never stopped fandoms from picking a random white gremlin from the background cast and elevating them to the status of Fave); at other times, however, there has been a clear trend of sidelining POC leads in favour of white alternatives (as per Finn, Poe and Rose Tico being edged out in Star Wars shipping by Hux, Kylo and Rey). I mention this, not to demonize individuals whose preferred ships happen to involve white characters, but to point out the collective impact these trends can have on POC in fandom spaces: it’s not bad to ship what you ship, but that doesn’t mean there’s no utility in analysing what’s popular and why through a racial lens.

All this being so, it feels increasingly salient that fanwriting culture as exists right now developed under the influence and in the shadow of these white-dominated fandoms – specifically, the taboo against criticizing or critiquing fics for any reason. Certainly, there’s a hell of a lot of value to Don’t Like, Don’t Read as a general policy, especially when it comes to the darker, kinkier side of ficwriting, and whether the context is professional or recreational, offering someone direct, unsolicited feedback on their writing style is a dick move. But on the flipside, the anti-criticism culture in fanwriting has consistently worked against fans of colour who speak out about racist tropes, fan ignorance and hurtful portrayals of living cultures. Voicing anything negative about works created for free is seen as violating a core rule of ficwriting culture – but as that culture has been foundationally shaped by white fandoms, white characters and, overwhelmingly, white ideas about what’s allowed and what isn’t, we ought to consider that all critical contexts are not created equal.

Right now, the rise of C-drama (and K-drama, and J-drama) fandoms is seeing a surge of white creators – myself included – writing fics for fandoms in which no white people exist, and where the cultural context which informs the canon is different to western norms. Which isn’t to say that no popular fandoms focused on POC have existed before now – K-pop RPF and anime fandoms, for example, have been big for a while. But with the success of The Untamed, more western fans are investing in stories whose plots, references, characterization and settings are so fundamentally rooted in real Chinese history and living Chinese culture that it’s not really possible to write around it. And yet, inevitably, too many in fandom are trying to do just that, treating respect for Chinese culture or an attempt to understand it as optional extras – because surely, fandom shouldn’t feel like work. If you’re writing something for free, on your own time, for your own pleasure, why should anyone else get to demand that you research the subject matter first?

Because it matters, is the short answer. Because race and culture are not made-up things like lightsabers and werewolves that you can alter, mock or misunderstand without the risk of hurting or marginalizing actual real people – and because, quite frankly, we already know that fandom is capable of drawing lines in the sand where it chooses. When Brony culture first reared its head (hah), the online fandom for My Little Pony – which, like the other fandoms we’re discussing here, is overwhelmingly female – was initially welcoming. It felt like progress, that so many straight men could identify with such a feminine show; a potential sign that maybe, we were finally leaving the era of mainstream hypermasculine fandom bullshit behind, at least in this one arena. And then, in pretty much the blink of an eye, things got overwhelmingly bad. Artists drawing hardcorn porn didn’t tag their works as adult, leading to those images flooding the public search results for a children’s show. Women were edged out of their own spaces. Bronies got aggressive, posting harsh, ugly criticism of artists whose gijinka interpretations of the Mane Six as humans were deemed insufficiently fuckable.

The resulting fandom conflict was deeply unpleasant, but in the end, the verdict was laid down loud and clear: if you cannot comport yourself like a decent fucking person – if your base mode of engagement within a fandom is to coopt it from the original audience and declare it newly cool only because you’re into it now; if you do not, at the very least, attempt to understand and respect the original context so as to engage appropriately (in this case, by acknowledging that the media you’re consuming was foundational to many women who were there before you and is still consumed by minors, and tagging your goddamn porn) – then the rest of fandom will treat you like a social biohazard, and rightly so.

Here’s the thing, fellow white people: when it comes to C-drama fandoms and other non-white, non-western properties? We are the Bronies.

Not, I hasten to add, in terms of toxic fuckery – though if we don’t get our collective shit together, I’m not taking that darkest timeline off the table. What I mean is that, by virtue of the whiteminding which, both consciously and unconsciously, has shaped current fan culture, particularly in terms of ficwriting conventions, we’re collectively acting as though we’re the primary audience for narratives that weren’t actually made with us in mind, being hostile dicks to Chinese and Chinese diaspora fans when they take the time to point out what we’re getting wrong. We’re bristling because we’ve conceived of ficwriting as a place wherein No Criticism Occurs without questioning how this culture, while valuable in some respects, also serves to uphold, excuse and perpetuate microaggresions and other forms of racism, lashing out or falling back on passive aggression when POC, quite understandably, talk about how they’re sick and tired of our bullshit.

An analogy: one of the most helpful and important tags on AO3 is the one for homophobia, not just because it allows readers to brace for or opt out of reading content they might find distressing, but because it lets the reader know that the writer knows what homophobia is, and is employing it deliberately. When this concept is tagged, I – like many others – often feel more able to read about it than I do when it crops up in untagged works of commercial fiction, film or TV, because I don’t have to worry that the author thinks what they’re depicting is okay. I can say definitively, “yes, the author knows this is messed up, but has elected to tell a messed up story, a fact that will be obvious to anyone who reads this,” instead of worrying that someone will see a fucked up story blind and think “oh, I guess that’s fine.” The contextual framing matters, is the point – which is why it’s so jarring and unpleasant on those rare occasions when I do stumble on a fic whose author has legitimately mistaken homophobic microaggressions for cute banter. This is why, in a ficwriting culture that otherwise aggressively dislikes criticism, the request to tag for a certain thing – while still sometimes fraught – is generally permitted: it helps everyone to have a good time and to curate their fan experience appropriately.

But when white and/or western fans fail to educate ourselves about race, culture and the history of other countries and proceed to deploy that ignorance in our writing, we’re not tagging for racism as a thing we’ve explored deliberately; we’re just being ignorant at best and hateful at worst, which means fans of colour don’t know to avoid or brace for the content of those works until they get hit in the face with microaggresions and/or outright racism. Instead, the burden is placed on them to navigate a minefield not of their creation: which fans can be trusted to write respectfully? Who, if they make an error, will listen and apologise if the error is explained? Who, if lived experience, personal translations or cultural insights are shared, can be counted on to acknowledge those contributions rather than taking sole credit? Too often, fans of colour are being made to feel like guests in their own house, while white fans act like a tone-policing HOA.

Point being: fandom and ficwriting cultures as they currently exist badly need to confront the implicit acceptance of racism and cultural bias that underlies a lot of community rules about engagement and criticism, and that needs to start with white and western fans. We don’t want to be the new Bronies, guys. We need to do better.  

[boop-le-snoot]

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

[justfangirlthingies]

The prince of lies (Loki x reader)

Soulmate AU: Every time your soulmate lies, their words are permanently written on your skin

Word count: 3140 Words

I think this is the last Soulmate one that I have on Wattpad as of right now

Father is dead. Your banishment... The threat of a new war...it was too much for him to bear. You mustn't blame yourself. I know that you loved him. I tried to tell him so, but he wouldn't listen.

The truce with Jotunheim is conditional  upon your exile

Mother has forbidden your return

This is goodbye brother, I'm so sorry

Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service

I'M NOT YOUR BROTHER I NEVER WAS!

I don't know what happened on earth to make you so soft! Don't tell me it was that woman?... Oh, it was. Well, when we're done here, maybe I'll pay her a visit myself!

You're not

(etc. more lies)

Lies...

Every single one of them. How did you know? Well, because they were printed all over your body.

Every single lie your soulmate ever told up until now graced your (s/c) skin.

How was a liar like that supposed to be a soulmate for you? Someone you could trust?

Yes, your so called soulmate would never be able to lie to you, for as soon as he tried the lie would appear on your skin. Had they only been some minor white lies, that would've probably been fine by you, but looking at the severity of those lies you could only shake your head in disbelief and sorrow for whoever had received those news.

Now ignoring the fact that those statements were lies, there were other aspects that made absolutely no sense. Those you had already researched quite a bit . Jotunheim for a start was a mythical place and the lies stated that apparently the liar and his brother were not from earth, which was complete nonsense was it not? Otherwise he had to be some kind of alien.

You were interrupted in the middle of your thought-process.

I missed you too

A new lie, gracing your forearm. Though this one seemed rather small and harmless, this man was still lying through his teeth and you had to carry every single one of those lies. How often had you been asked why your body was full of lies. Yet you never had an answer to those questions. He was your soulmate, even if he was a liar he had to be good somewhere, right?

Aliens and beings from other worlds did exist though. Thor the god of thunder and the events of New York city. Did they have soulmates as well? They had to, otherwise the statements on your features made even less sense.

But who?

Who would lie so much?

The thoughts in your head kept floating around as you got ready to meet up with your friend Anthony.

You started walking to a nearby park. Your usual meeting point, as you felt yet another familiar tingle. Pushing it to the back of your head in hopes of ignoring it, you kept walking towards your friend and hugged him "It's good to see you" you smiled but only got a confused stare in return "What?" "You uh...got a new one there, a long one." A sigh escaped your lips at the reply of Anthony. "Well, where? And does it at least make sense?" Your friend just shook his head as he took a picture of the lettering on your collarbone "No, but here. Maybe you can understand some of this. It looks like sarcasm this time." He gave you his phone to look at the picture. Great another one.

Wait? Sarcasm? One thing you had to give your soulmate credit for were his snarky remarks, at least those sometimes put a smile on your face. You zoomed in on your collarbone as you read what was engraved on the previously clear space of (s/c) skin.

You know this is wonderful! This a tremendous idea! Let's steal the biggest most obvious ship in the universe and escape in that! Flying around the city, smash it into everything in sight and everyone will see it! It's brilliant Thor! It's truly brilliant...

Thor?! You could not believe your eyes. Whoever your soulmate was knew Thor. It was a shock and a relief as well. If he was friends with this god he couldn't be so bad, could he? You did however, question why Thor would spend time, let alone steal some kind of spaceship with this person.

"I see. I can't say I understand what it's about, but whoever this liar of mine is, seems to be friends with Thor..." The words left your mouth as you handed the phone back to your dear friend. The two of you sat down on a wooden bench underneath a tree, but when you heard Anthony speak up, your mind went blank "He could also be Thor's brother, doesn't that one lie a lot?" It took you a few moments to fully comprehend what he meant "No, that'd be impossible, that man is sitting behind bars for the rest of his life. Besides, that guy is evil. My soulmate could never possibly be a bad person." that last part was a lie. Your soulmate was a liar, he could easily be a bad person, you just hoped with all your might that he wasn't"

■ ■ ■

"Trust my rage" the god of mischief spoke. Just as he had finished his sentence he felt a tingle on his wrist. A rare occasion if it was a real lie, usually it was just a sarcastic comment which most of the time he enjoyed quite a bit. These sarcastic statements often caused a small smile to appear on his face, the few nice moments that made the time in his cell more bearable, not only did he find them funny and witty, they also stood for his soulmate, for someone that was destined for him and also that he was a perfect fit for whoever this soulmate was. He looked at his bare wrist expectantly, waiting for one of the snarky remarks that his soulmate had spoken to appear. When it did appear though, it broke his heart. His cold expression fell for a second as he looked at the writing on his wrist. Quickly regaining his cold exterior before anyone would notice. It was too late though. His brother had seen the trickster's face falter just in time and he had also seen what Loki was staring at. Before the raven-haired could pull his hand back he felt it had already been grabbed "Let go of me Thor!"

"Brother, just let me see!" Thor replied loudly, he wanted to know what this was about. Loki looked away in shame as he let his brother read what his soulmate had said. My soulmate could never possibly be a bad person. As he finished reading he loosened his grip on the other's hand, allowing Loki to finally pull his hand back "I'm sorry" he muttered. "They think I'm a monster too..." The black haired god whispered as he sat down in the small ship, his stone cold exterior dropping by the second. Was a soulmate not meant to understand? Was there really no hope for him?

"Loki..."

"Stop it. Don't pity me for something that's my own fault!" he screamed. He just needed a moment to calm down.

■ ■ ■

"How is this possible? How do I deal with this? I can't just ignore it can I? No" before you knew it you found yourself in front of a massive building. Stark tower. Your (e/c) eyes stared at the monument in awe, but you soon shook your head in order to resume your task. "Enter the tower and talk to the avengers on how to communicate with Thor. You have to do this because Thor knows your soulmate..." you repeated in your head as you entered the building...

...or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye you were consumed by light and gone from where you stood. Was that some kind of security system Stark invented?

Your eyes fluttered open just to see some old man on a throne before your sight went black and your body dropped to the ground unconscious.

■ ■ ■

"Are you certain Heimdall?" the king asked, looking at the unconscious human, who was now dressed to fit the Asgardian culture. He was inspecting some of the tattoos on their body "You were right they definitely are his soulmate. Though they seem to be a rather honest person, for Loki does not have as many markings on him. As far as I know at least"

What were they talking about? Who were these people, why did they speak of you in a connection to Loki, it made no sense. None at all. You tried to look like you were still passed out.

But apparently you failed in your acting. "The human is awake" a different voice spoke. Maybe it belonged to this Heimdall person.

A sigh of defeat left your lips as you opened your eyes. You tried to take in your surroundings when suddenly, your eyes went wide from the sensation on your skin.

You sighed as you waited for the writing to appear on one of your upper arms. "Oh boy this is a long one" You muttered underneath your breath, but it seems Odin had heard, for he raised an eyebrow as his eyes followed your gaze to your arm which you had uncovered from the strange clothing you were dressed in. The king had taken a hold of your arm to read your words.

You really think I cared about Frigga? About any of you? All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet! Malekith! I am Loki of Jotunheim and I bring you a gift! I ask only one thing in return, a good seat from which to watch Asgard burn.

"Fools!" Odin shouted.

Meanwhile you thought your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets as you tried to comprehend the meaning behind those words. The only thing you could focus on however, was the name etched in your skin. His name. Loki.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the Allfather spoke up again "Send guards to Svartálfheimr and retrieve my sons! Bring the Aether back if it's still there!"

His sons?

It was at that moment. Realisation hit you like a bus. You were in Asgard and this man before you had to be Odin then. Your brows furrowed. Why were you here? How did you get here?

"Come. You must have many questions." The king said as you got up and followed him "I am Odin of Asgard. Tell me child what is your name?" "M-my name is (Y/n) (L/n). How-how did I get here?" you stuttered as you looked around still walking. "I gave orders to bring you here" He replied casually.

■ ■ ■

The Jotun prince laid on the ground panting as his brother cradled him in his strong arms "No. No, no, no. Oh, you fool, you didn't listen." "I know." Loki spoke, his voice quiet and weak "I'm a fool. I'm a fool." he gasped in pain. "Stay with me, okay?" The god of thunder spoke close to tears as he pat the other's face to keep him conscious. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" the young god apologized gasping for air but he was quickly shushed by his brother "shhh...it's okay" Thor nodded as tears welled up in his blue eyes. "It's all right. I'll tell father what you did here today" He spoke again the tears now making their way down his cheeks. "I didn't do it for him" The raven haired spoke calmly. As he took his dying breath he spoke his last words "Tell them, I didn't want to be a monster" Just like that the god closed his eyes and went limp in his brother's arms. "NOOO!" Thor shouted in pain and hugged Loki. "I will find them and tell them in your stead brother" He whispered into the other's ear before he let go and left with Jane. Loki's limp body was left in the sand and dirt.

■ ■ ■

"I take it, you know who your soulmate is,  judging by your reaction. It must certainly be hard to carry all the lies of the god of mischief and lies" Odin raised his eyebrow. "I have heard quite a few stories about him indeed." You replied taking a sip of your tea. You were seated in the throne room across from Odin as he tried to answer some of your questions.

In the middle of your conversation a guard entered and as soon as he spoke up you felt a burning and tingling just underneath your chest.

"Forgive me my liege. I've returned from the Dark World with news. " The guard spoke.

"Thor?" Odin asked with hope. The guard dropped his head a bit at that "There was no sign of Thor or the weapon, but..." As soon as the man spoke up again the tingling began once again in the same place as before. "What?" the Allfather asked.

The tingles continued "We found a body."

Silence filled the air for a moment before Odin spoke "Loki"

The guard just looked at his king with sad eyes. The burning had stopped. "Thank you. Bring this one..." The old king pointed at you "...to Heimdall. Tell him to return them to Midgard. Then you may be dismissed for the day."

Your chin dropped as the guard nodded and turned to you. Oh now you were definitely not going to tell the god that Loki was alive and lying. He grabbed you roughly and brought you out of the throne room and to another room, the room you had woken up in. "Gather your belongings mortal before you return to Midgard." Midgard? Was that what they called earth. As the guard was about to close the door you shouted after him "Mister guard man! Wait!" He raised an eyebrow at you, seemingly amused, but he waited for you to speak nonetheless and so you did "Loki can't be dead." He stared at you confused "Well he is."

Another tingle. This time on your finger, but you ignored it for now seeing as you were focused on the conversation you were having "No. I don't think you understand. I-I know he is alive. I can feel it." A small smile was placed on your lips as the man before you began to laugh, he seemed curious though "And how would a little mortal like you know that? Oh you feel it, of course"

"I-I don't know how I know" That was a lie for you did know why and how "I just know." You finished, he seemed distracted though. While the guard was distracted you took a moment to look at the side of your pinkie finger. "No." You mumbled when you realized the man before you was your soulmate, disguised as a guard. "What?" The man asked. "Nothing" you lied, a small smile on your lips. You were scared yes, but he wouldn't hurt his own soulmate, now would he? "Would you please come in and close the door Loki?~" You asked innocently.

His eyes went wide, confused as to how a simple human like you could look through his disguise with such ease. So he complied. He didn't really have a choice now. As he closed the door, he dissolved his disguise. Green smoke surrounded the man as Loki the trickster god stood before you now. He was stunning. Yes there was a deep hatred for this man inside you, but he did something good today and you hadn't met him before. Well not personally, you had however seen him on TV as he tried to take over the world, you had heard he was under some kind of mind control though. "You are a curious little thing, aren't you?" Loki spoke as he approached you "Who are you and how did you know it was me mortal?"

You grinned "I'm no one important to you" Your smile widened as you noticed him being distracted again. You watched in awe as your statement appeared on the back of his hand.

The black haired god stared at you in disbelief "No...no no no no. How? That's not possible" Before you realized what was happening he was already too close for comfort. He grabbed one of your arms and shoved up your sleeves. Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service. Disbelief filled Loki's eyes as they pierced your own gaze. He let go of your hand as some kind of hatred but also hope filled his eyes "You hate me. You think I'm a monster." He spoke with clenched teeth. He was trying to compose himself, to seem calm, but you easily looked through his disguise. "I do not" You replied, your (e/c) eyes were soft as you looked at him. He stood there, waiting for the tingling and burning somewhere on his pale body. But the feeling never came. You had been truthful. "I know better than to lie to my soulmate." The words escaped your throat before you could even think. "Why did you say it then?!" The god growled. "Said wha-" The mischievous man cut you off "My soulmate could never possibly be a bad person" he quoted your lie "what changed?"

"I-I" you were speechless "I said that, knowing that anyone could be my soulmate, I tried to convince myself to see things positively. I did not know it would affect you as it was about soulmates in general. I am sorry for causing you pain Loki"

"So you don't think I'm a bad person?" he asked, turning your words around "I do know of the bad things you did. You tried to take over my home. I cannot confirm that you are a completely bad person though. I-I don't know you well enough to judge. For I try to build my opinion when I get to know people myself, even if this person is the prince of lies. Besides, you can't be too bad if you are my soulmate, at least not towards me" You grinned, reaching out your hand for him to shake "I'm (Y/n) by the way."

Loki looked at your hand, a smirk on his lips as he held your hand in his and brought it up to his lips to press a small kiss against the back of it. His eyes never leaving yours as a blush took over your features "It is a pleasure to meet you (Y/n). My name is Loki and I do not think I'll send you off to Midgard just yet, if ever..." The last two words were not meant for you to hear but you did. "Before we get to know each other better my soulmate~" he smirked "I have to take care of my father and brother." He turned around and walked towards the door "You stay here for now" the man winked at you before he turned himself into the guard again and left the room.

[maxwell-grant]

Might I please ask if you have an opinion of DRACULA? (Either the novel itself or the adaptations); having read both this novel and FRANKENSTEIN, I'm tempted to agree with the reviewer who wrote that one of these is a Classic and the other is actually Fun to read ... (-;

(Art by Cinemamind)

I completely understand the sentiment of "one's a classic and the other's fun to read" and I don't necessarily disagree with it. I don't read Frankenstein for fun, I read it because it's the book closest to me and it's heartbreaking to think about and it's got one of my favorite characters ever in it and it's got a stake in my soul I gotta renew every year. Dracula, however? Dracula is a blast and it boggles the mind as to how every adaptation can be so crushingly lesser in nearly every aspect. My hardcover edition with annotations is one of my most prized possessions.

It's interesting that people tend to talk about Frankenstein and Dracula like Frankenstein was cutting edge sci-fi while Dracula was archaic and folkloric, when it's really the other way around. Frankenstein is the story of an arrogant dipshit rejecting modern science and thinking to unearth outdated knowledge soon blossoming into a vicious cycle of savagery, where as Dracula is the story of an ancient predator adapting and trying to take over current society and fought by a ragtag team of upstanding citizens using modern tactics to stave him off and eventually fight him, desperately struggling to stay ahead of the curve as he wisens to their tactics.

This book was really ahead of it's time in so many ways. I could easily see excerpts of it, particularly the Demeter journals and Renfield's story, taking off as internet creepypastas or found footage horror films. Dracula's a story about a group of characters playing detective as they update their blog entries about the coming of an initially incomprehensible horror taking over their lives. It's a story that could work regardless of Victorian or vampire trappings, and we know this because Blair Witch Project and Marble Hornets are some of the biggest horror successes of the past decades, all of which follow the same general idea, except in Dracula, they don't just discover the true nature of the horror, they also start fighting back and ultimately destroy it.

Dracula's obviously a great villain, that goes without saying. I don't actually tend to take Dracula seriously much of the time because I'm very fond of comedy takes on Dracula and vampires, but that doesn't at all diminish his impact in the original book. He's barely in the novel for much of it which makes his every appearence Count, and the atmosphere as well as the many, many forms he can show up or be suggested at really help solidify what an incredible presence he can be.

He's the strange ruler in a foreign country, he's the kooky old man with weird customs, he's the creepy house owner tormenting a hapless guest, he's a barbarian who lives in nostalgia. He's the wind on your window, a dog on the street, a bat in your windshield, a storm on your ship. He's a predator in every way possible, he's a handsome aristocrat, he's a tragic victim of his own monstrous nature, he's a demon who threatens to consume all mankind, he's the fucker who assaulted your loved one and has to go down hard by machete right now.

Even if we just threw out the 124 years of Dracula's history out, we'd still have enough material in the book not just for a great villain, but dozens of great villains and characters who could take just about any of these traits and run with them. And still, the thing that really, really stuck out to me about Dracula wasn't him, it was the other characters

Art by Kiwi

Dracula's cast is so, so underrated, so unfortunately sidelined as a result of adaptations that only care about The Count and try to give him all the dramatic weight and characterization and sideline all the other characters as merely bit players. Stories that twist Jonathan into a useless fop or an active jerk on the idea that he's the "boring" one, that diminish Renfield's story into just being a hapless and insane goon of Dracula, that make Van Helsing the only character who's even capable of putting up a fight and make him a generic badass, that completely neglect Quincy Morris even though he's great and everyone who discovers him is aghast at discovering "holy shit there's a COWBOY in Dracula?" like yes, there is, and he's incredible and everyone should love him and everyone WOULD love him if only the adaptations remembered he exists.

Adaptations that completely sideline Mina when, and I can't stress this enough, she is the most competent character in the book, one of the greatest pop culture detectives, a wonderful and compassionate and incredibly strong and intelligent character and the main reason why they even managed to win against the Count in the first place, and arguably the closest thing the book even has to a protagonist or hero. I'm not gonna go too into it here but, even putting aside the sheer awfulness of adaptations that try and force a romance between The Count and Mina, seriously fuck off with that, why is it that pretty much every "official" adaptation has had considerably less feminist interpretations of Mina than the source material written in the 1880s? It's a complete travesty (and yes, I'm including LOEG Mina in this, anyone who likes the book and character could have done that concept better)

I enjoy aspects of Dracula adaptations, mostly regarding certain actors's takes on the characters like Bela Lugosi (the only saving grace of that movie, honestly, but rightfully considered the iconic performance), or Peter Cushing as Van Helsing. I very much enjoy the Dracula adaptation Orson Welles did because it at least tried to stay faithful to the book. But regardless of their individual quality, I don't have much to say about Dracula adaptations that try to adapt the book other than "WHY in christ aren't you just sticking to what's in the book? Do you not see how GREAT it is, all the great things about it that are just waiting to be rediscovered and loved by new audiences? STOP WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING WITH MINA FOR THE LOVE OF GOD-"

So yeah I definitely got thoughts on Dracula. Utterly adore the book but thinking about how much of it's greatness has been lost in the adaptations kinda makes me a little angry. Of course, this doesn't extend to adaptations that tell different stories or just put Dracula into existing stories or reinterpret it. I love Nosferatu and Castlevania Dracula and Hellsing Dracula and Billy & Mandy Dracula and Sesame Street Dracula. Dracula's basically become a sub-category of monster in it's own right and there's no such think as too many monsters, or too many Draculas

I'm very glad that Dracula's public domain because it means not only can he just show up anywhere, but it also means that just about anyone can pen their own Dracula stories. Still, it would be nice if the other great characters of Dracula got brought along for the ride on a couple of those.

[lexsang]

from what i've heard, theres a general consensus that vampirism isnt something you can catch, and turning people isn't possible. im new to the community and research is a bit difficult, is that the agreed upon truth? if it is, i can hardly imagine what caused all the myths of vampirism being a mutation or virus you can give someone.

That is an interesting question! This may end up being a pretty long answer, so buckle up!

First of all, remember that this is only my opinion based on what I have read, heard, and personally experienced. I will try to come at this from more than one perspective as well, since these things change quite a lot when you look at them from the different angles of sanguinarianism, psychic vampirism, and even the different beliefs inherent in both of those vampiric experiences.

Generally, it is agreed upon that "turning" is not possible, though of course there are a small number who do believe in the possibility of turning others. Many members of the online community get hounded with questions from people wanting to be turned and have to educate them on the reality of vampirism. In general, no, vampirism is not a transmissible condition as far as I know.

However, that only scratches the surface. It isn't uncommon in literature on psychic vampirism, to see references to sympathetic vampirism. It is a fairly common belief among psychic vampires that vampirism is caused by an energy deficiency or some damage to the subtle body, which causes a person to need to consume energy to make up for the energy they either lose, or cannot produce themselves in the first place. Sympathetic vampirism is the idea that feeding too regularly and too much on a specific person might cause a similar (but temporary) lack of energy within them, and they may start to crave energy and seek it out in a similar way as a vampire would. Beyond that, in some more ritual centric groups, turning is used as a symbolic initiation. Since the techniques used by psychic vampires can be learned by anyone, there is a number of groups that use it within a black magic context.

On the subject of what caused the myths, there are some interesting angles there. My personal opinion is that we use the term vampire because it is the closest approximation to our experience. There is a decent number of things that might tie the pop culture image of the vampire to sanguinarians and other real vampires, but the ancient, mythical depictions of the vampire (at least the most popular ones that we get our modern vampire mythos from) were deceased people crawling out of their graves. So much so that it was oftentimes seen as a prerequisite of vampirism that a person had to be dead to be a vampire. Additionally, those views of vampires in Slavic countries only started after the Christianization of the areas, which brings up the question. Why only after the adoption of Christianity, not before? If you are looking at it from the perspective that the myths were exaggerations of real life sanguinarians, the modern myths aren’t too far off, if you pick them apart at least. However, the blood drinking and more human seeming sides of the myth weren’t always there. They were introduced at a point later down the line. Older myths treat vampires almost like ghosts. They generally fed off of a person’s life force, like psychic vampires. There are even astral feeding practices some psychic vampires use that sound pretty similar, of course most of us try to be more ethical nowadays than just feeding off of whoever.

Vampirism is a huge umbrella that spans over many different things. I hope that was a decent answer, but if it brought up more questions, let me know 😊 And again, this is just from my experience and the things I have read. There are plenty of vampire myths from plenty of different cultures as well, but I know more about the European myths since that is what we generally seem to base most vampire pop culture off of.