#like is that an oblique compliment??

[chemicalarospec]

you've heard of: aroacespec "is this person flirting with me" confusion, now get ready for: Does this person think I'm flirting with them (and also are they flirting "back" with me) because I accidentally bumped into them a lot?

[1-helluva-hazbin]

Hello! can you see a girl reader who wants to be perfect in everything (in appearance, in weight and in work) and cries if someone bypasses her? characters: adam or lucifer :)

I’m so excited for the ask! I’m happy to try and oblique. I’m not certain I 100% understand your ask so if what I’ve written isn’t what you meant, send in another ask! Thank you for your patience while I got to this as well! Both scenarios for both characters are going to be written with established relationships (friendship bordering on romantic for Adam, a romantic relationship for Lucifer). Both stories were only quickly proofread.

Trigger Warnings for Lucifer's story: suicide, self harm, self depreciation

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.  ✶✶ Adam ✶✶  .˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳. Adam x fem!reader

Song that fits the vibe: Sleep Token - DYWTYLM

Adam was used to seeing women cry; usually tears of joy from having their brains fucked out by the dickmaster himself or subsequently tears of sorrow when he made it clear he didn’t want them and their clingy bullshit around long term. Regardless, they were a pretty regular thing for him to have to deal with.

In the time he had gotten to known you, which was decently long since he tended to get bored of the winners, he hadn’t ever seen you shed a tear. Even when you both had initially met and he had said some rude ass shit to you, you gave him grace. You were much like Emily in the sense that you were usually a bundle of joy full of understanding, forgiveness, love for all, blah-blah-blah.

Only you were hotter. WAY hotter.

In his books you were the hottest winner he had ever seen and based on how you acted, you knew you were good looking. You acted sheepish and tried to downplay any compliments you got but he noticed the way you glowed when you got them. You fed off of it. Taking pride in your appearance. You were always dressing to the nines, going through every known self care routine, and working out; even though you didn’t need to in heaven. You had it down to a science at this point with all of it seemingly coming so effortlessly to you.

Even the work you had taken up to help out the angels who needed it was easy for you. You only ever needed instructions once and you could repeat it back flawlessly performing it with ease.

The only more impressive thing besides being the most flawless being of all the heavenly creatures was that you, of all the winners out there, had impressed HIM. Besides killing sinners and fighting, you might even rank higher than Lute for badass bitches. He wouldn’t admit that openly of course. Lute would be pissed. Plus, that would make it seem like he liked you too much and he wouldn’t want to blow up your ego. He wouldn’t want to have to eat his own words down the line.

Yet, one day as Adam had rounded the corner, after a long boring ass meeting with the counsel, and he saw you standing in the vacant hallway with your head down and fists clenched. What the fuck were you doing? He started to ask until he noticed that though your hair covered your gorgeous face, he could see the tears falling to the ground. Your shoulders shaking slightly as you tried to quell the downpour.

The moment he got his barings, he started marching over to you. “Who the FUCK do I have to kill?” Your head whipped up, your eyes puffy and cheeks red. Somehow the tears that littered the marble floor hadn’t disturbed the perfect makeup you had dawned. 

“A-Adam?” you gasp out, suddenly trying to dab dry your face with the back of your hands. “Tell me who made you cry and I’ll fucking slaughter them.” Adam growled out. As he neared you, his approach slowed but the moment you were within arms reach his hands shot out to gently grab your face. His thumbs lightly rubbing away the tears while trying not to fuck with your make up. His eyes roamed your face, taking in how haggard you look, before locking eyes with you, “Give me a name sugartits. I’ll show ‘em not to mess with THE Adam’s friend.”

The intensity Adam was emitting was a little intimidating and yet, the way he was holding your face was so tender. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch as you brought your hands up to cover his. Tears started to well in your eyes again as you took a shaky breath.

He started to simultaneously panic and get wildly more pissed off the moment it looked like you were going to start crying again. His only tell that he was internally raging was that his eyebrows furrowed more, until you brought his hands down away from your face. You held onto them though as you lightly pressed them to your chest, right above your plush bust.

This was the first time you had ever considered talking about this with anyone. Usually you could hold yourself together long enough to get to your room before you fell apart but, today it had all been too much. The fear was overwhelming. The fear of being replaced. Of being tossed aside. You had done everything perfectly. They all had said so. They had sung your praises since you had come and yet now, their attentions had turned elsewhere. How was it that people could suddenly turn their affections to someone else when you had done it all right? You desperately needed the validation; the vindication. You had done it all right, hadn’t you? Where had you gone wrong? What did you DO wrong? How could you fix this?

You look up to Adam with your misty doe eyes. His gauze tightly fixated on you. He was an honest person. Unkindly sometimes but, he was honest. If anyone was going to tell you how you had fucked up and how you could fix it, Adam would.

“It-It…it’s just…” your breathing is shaky so you take a moment before continuing. “I feel…I feel like I messed up and I don’t know how to fix it. There’s…there’s a new winner. She’s really kind, smart, funny, and so pretty. She’s…” you choke up for a moment thinking about all the ways she’s attractive in the ways you aren’t, “SO pretty… and helpful. She’s so fast at everything she does. I…I…”

“Okay sugartits you’ve lost me. Why were you crying over some new winner?” he asked, utterly bewildered.

You tear your hands away from him as your eyes well up again. You shouldn’t have expected him to understand. “EVERYONE wants her help… I haven’t been able to help anyone out since shortly after she ascended and I feel so…so useless. She’s replacing me… I’m… I’m replaceable… how? I thought I did everything right? She’s so much better than me-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The words stunned you into silence and halted your spiral, just as the tears had started flowing again. “You really think some dumb bitch is going to walk up in here and take YOUR place?” he scoffed rolling his whole head, “Yeah fucking right. I give it a week tops before she fucks up. As if some rando new winner can take YOUR place. They’ll be crawling back to you asking for your help. BEGGING for your help. You being the goody two-shoe you are though will forgive them for being stupid and will go back to being #1 at whatever boring paperwork they have you doing.”

“But…why would they just… What did I do wrong?” you ask with a hoarse voice his explanation not making sense.

“Do wrong?” He gasped out, “You couldn’t do a damn thing wrong in your life if you tried. They’re just being fucking dumb. You’re better than every other winners out there and when they realize that you need to rub it in their face. Make them LOATH the day they thought they could replace you. Until they pull their heads out of their asses I’m sure I got some stuff you could help me with.”

He reached out and wiped away the tears again. The aching in your heart eased slightly knowing he wholeheartedly believed what he was saying and, for the moment, his conviction was enough for you. Not that it completely quelled your feelings but, you were able to manage them far better knowing you were still wanted in someone’s world.

His eyes lit up, “You know, you could come to meetings with me and take notes or whatever. Give me the cliffnotes. That shit is SO boring. I’m sure your notes will be better than the official ones they write up anyways and I don’t have to read that shit.”

You smile laughing softly, “I can definitely do that.”

He returned the smile, his thumbs lightly caressed your cheeks, before withdrawing his hands. His whole demeanor instantly reverting back to his usual cocky self. “Damn am I good at giving advice out or what? Just another way I’m FUCKING amazing. You know what, I deserve some goddamn ribs.” he hooted as he turned and started waltzing off.

Seconds later he turned and looked back realizing you were still standing there in a daze, “Come on sugartits I ain’t got all day!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♱𐕣 𖤐 𐕣♱  ☽𖤐☾ Lucifer ☽𖤐☾  ♱𐕣 𖤐 𐕣♱ Lucifer x fem!reader

Song that fits the vibe: She’s An Actor - Austin Giorgio

Trigger warning: suicide, self harm, self depreciation 

You would have thought by now you would be used to being compared to other people. 

Used to aiming for perfection, without ever truly achieving it.

In life you had been constantly used as a pedestal; your sister, friends, co-works. It had never felt like you could claim the recognition you wanted despite having done everything right. 

The perfect GPA in school with extracurriculars to the point you only got a few hours of sleep. Yet your sister’s athletic achievements in swim and cheer had always meant more to your parents. 

The modeling career that you had gotten into, with your best friend following suit only for her to have gotten a contract a year before you. She had even attributed it to your help during a renowned shoot. An unintentional wound that drove you to the edge of your sanity; studying every fashion magazine, the extreme exercising, dieting, any pills that might help and you could get your hands on. 

Then once you finally caught your own break, getting a contract with a big modeling firm, constantly being included in the creme dela crop of models. The never ending critiques of what outfit looked good on which body for x, y, z reasons. Even if you were chosen more than every other model in the company for being the most ideal woman to show off the reveried outfits of the season, you were nothing more than a manikin. Replaced at the drop of hat the moment you couldn’t do it.

You couldn’t stop yourself though. You had to do it all. You had to do it flawlessly. You were a failure if you didn’t.

Yet, somehow it was never good enough.  Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. Even in death, the out you brought about convinced it would be your sweet release, hadn’t ended the torment.  You had only condemned yourself further.  The epitome of failure.

Why couldn’t you even die right?

How had you ever attracted Lucifer’s attention?

As you stood in the the hotel lobby, the Hazbin Hotel gala fundraiser in full swing with all the top sinners and hellborns mingling and enjoying the free event, you felt eyes scrutinizing you. 

Your corset was cinched as tightly as it would go, reducing your waist dramatically, though giving you a somewhat nice hourglass shape. The mermaid style, galaxy themed dress had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder straps. It was a deep hue of royal purple on top before gradually fading to black starting at the hips as it descended your figure with gold and silver stars across the entirety of it, fit your figure snuggly and played off of Lucifer's pristine white and gold tux, his bowtie and pocket square the same royal purple. All your assets were perfectly held within the outfit, with tasteful peeks of skin showing beneath the chiffon overlay at your sides and a silt from just above the knee down. A golden snake choker with its head seated in your jugular notch, accenting your bust.

Lucifer hadn’t left your side since the event started. He had a hand incessantly lingering on your lower back as you both navigated the sea of people. You weren’t sure if the constant touch was for him or for you, but it helped steady you as you held yourself together by a thread. Every person you met was better than you in one way or another; status, poise, brand name outfit, professional makeup.

There was no hesitation with each new face in identifying any and every advantage or feature they had that you lacked. Another chip off your shoulder.

The socialite veneer seamlessly masking the degradation you were inflicting. The practiced saccharine smile never leaving your lips. Well timed laughs. A slight head tilt here to show your interest followed by a slight nod. The only honest part of your act was the high praise you sang regarding Charlie and her truly stunning optimism and strong willed determination.

You could feel the scrutiny lightening the longer the night went on. Some people even reapproached you and Lucifer to continue talking. Prior feigned politeness making way to many of the hellborns attempting political fanangling. Both you and Lucifer’s attempts to redirect the conversation back to the point of the party thwarted or outmaneuvered. Eventually, the conversations fell outside of your ability to participate. You had become an adornment.

You were so tired, so heavy.

Following a particularly trying bird guest whose smarmy quips were particularly taxing you excused yourself from the conversation, missing Lucifer’s panicked glance as you moved away. You just needed a break. 

Just a quick one.

You looked yourself over in the mirror. Fixing any stray hairs. Correcting any smudges of lipstick or eyeliner. You noted the contour along your nose could have been darker to thin your fat nose. You’d need a tighter corset as well should you need to attend another party like this.

You backed up to further evaluate yourself.

The prettiest you can be and still you are disgusting.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you took a slow deep breath. No. No you looked good. This would be something you could wear for a shoot. You just needed to change a few small things. Maybe a couple things. Possibly one bit thing. All the comparisons throughout the night flooded your mind, a tsunami. If only you could change everything about yourself. All the things you lacked. All the things you needed to be. Nothing you could ever achieve.

You choked out a sob. Your hands crawling up your arms as you hugged yourself tightly. You dug your claws into your flesh. Stop this. You couldn’t break down now. The gala wasn’t over just yet. You squeezed your arms tighter, not realizing your claws had broken skin. The failed attempt to reel yourself in breaking you further. Failure. Why couldn’t you hold yourself together for a night? You hunched over as now silent tears hit the floor.

A knock sounded at the door.

You held your breath, eyes wide as you stood there. A breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. “One moment please! I’m almost finished!” you call, your voice taking on a melodic tone. 

There was a pause. “Open the door sweetheart.”

Lucifer. You didn’t reply. Didn’t move. Didn’t breath. He knew you only used that voice when you were hiding a breakdown. It didn’t help that the bathroom was your go to place. “My sun, please?”

You crumbled.

The moment the door was unlocked he was in the bathroom with you. His small, lithe body slipping in and closing the door behind him. A soft smile greeting you despite the puffy eyes and tear streaks staining your made face.

“I’m ready when you are.” he whispered.

Your eyes widen and you’re frantic at the thought of being the cause of the king of hell leaving. Look at you fucking something else up tonight. Before you could say anything, a portal appeared behind Lucifer. He gently took your hands before he stepped back. He didn’t pull you though. 

You stared at him; his gentle smile, soft eyes, adorable cheek marks. The tears started flowing again and your hands squeezed his. You stepped into his room in the hotel several floors up from where you both had been, the portal closing behind you.

A glittery red mist engulfing the both of you before disappearing in seconds. Both of you in the dark blue rubber duckie pajamas he had created for your 1 month anniversary however long ago. His a short sleeve shirt with loose fitting pants and yours a spaghetti strap dress that flowed down to your knees. The gashes on your arms cleaned and bandaged up. Your hair down and make up gone. Across the room, your galaxy dress and his heavenly white suit and usual hat hung up on hangers.

“Thank you…” you whisper, trying to wipe away the endless tears that were still flowing down your face. He pulled your hands away from your face and lightly kissed you. He led the way over to the bed, both of you quickly climbing in. You cuddled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You closed your eyes. Listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing. One of his hand of claws raking through your hair. A rosy cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. Your hands clutched his shirt. Embarrassed you couldn’t keep yourself. He turned his head to kiss your hair. “You don’t have to tonight. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow though?”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to face the feelings, to face him. Admit to him the truth that nothing you did was ever truly good enough. That you were a failure and tonight was further proof.

You backed up to tell him it was nothing. That you just got overwhelmed and were tired. To hide away this ugliness. 

The look of concern caught you off guard though. He was unmasked. Vulnerable. Asking for you to be the same. He had been open about answering everything you had ever asked him, why couldn’t you do the same?

You couldn’t fail him. You could be a failure in every other way but not for him. You couldn’t fail him. Wouldn’t. 

Slowly, you nod and echo, “Tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He returned his cheek to the top of your head squeezing you into him with both arms. His tail manifesting and wrapping itself around your closest lower leg. “I love you.”

You burrowed into his side again, your own arms securing him to you. You smiled, feeling his tail. “I love you too. Thank you, my star.”

Both of you quickly succumbed to sleep wrapped in each other’s embrace.

Neither of you believing you deserved the the other.

[2kmps]

Howl gets secondhand embarrassment seeing you dance poorly with another man.

notes; 993 words, 15+, jealous howl, roughly proofread

it was all a ruse, one that you seemingly believed and accepted without second thought. behind an easy smile and dismissive glance his insides were on fire; glowing scarlet, so sure his blood would boil through all his bone and tendon. when that would happen, he'd finally have to confess his abhor of anyone else you entertained, look you in the eye to do it.

he couldn't remember when he started pretending, purposefully feigning disinterest by looking away, busying himself with anything he could lay his hands on. it was his selfish wish to catch you looking his way in that event; perhaps wistful, wanting, and pleading for him to be the one who held your hand and left you fluttering when he'd kiss your fingertips.

"karma has finally found me and left me a shell of a man." howl said, mostly to himself, just outside of clear earshot of old sophie sitting nearby. "somehow, it feels fitting and right for it to be this way."

"what're you mumbling about?" sophie groaned, knobby hands tipping the wide-brim of her hat forward to cast a larger shadow across her face. "I'm surprised you haven't run out there and stirred up trouble like you always do."

ever the one for compliments and courtesy, howl took her words in stride as best he could.

"isn't it clear from looking?" he raised his voice, gesturing towards the center of the bodies dancing in unison with the band. you were lost somewhere amid the throng of people and ribbons of color. "there is no place for me in the heart of the one I love the most. how many suitors have you counted today, sophie? twenty? thirty?"

the cavernous lines in her face deepened, expression flattening. "you dim fool. none at all! there are no suitors, you're just upset that you don't have someone groveling at your feet."

"not at all!" he yelped, fixing his posture as he laid his hands flat on his hips with his chin perked a little higher. "miss nose, you wouldn't understand the complexities of loving so deeply that you can't bear it."

"right, right." sophie sighed, flapping a hand towards him without looking. "to me, it looks like friends enjoying a dance. but, who knows. maybe if they're together long enough, he'll make a move! wouldn't that be exciting?"

howl completely, utterly disagreed with those words and let it show on his face with a pout. his weight shifted to the other hip, arms now wrapped tight together as his eyes flicked around the crowd of dancers.

their billowing gowns and sashes were like erratic candle flame, swaying and flickering with the wind and whispers near. he found you among the rest, easily discernible because he loved seeing you dressed in red and yellow.

oddly and fondly, it reminded him of calcifer.

the hues were beautiful against your skin, the fabric was light and graceful as it whipped around your body while the ingrate guided you through the dance.

you were smiling, but less than when you were with him. it made his chest swell a little bit, somewhat of an uncomfortable sensation that he couldn't shake.

you weren't close to your dancing partner, keeping a greater distance between your bodies than the rest of pairs.

suddenly, he had a smile inching higher on his lips. this was hard for him to watch; seeing you dancing clumsily despite all the effort he had put into teaching you how to. it didn't fit; you and man weren't compatible, pieces of a puzzle that couldn't interlock.

"what an eyesore, I suppose I should do something about it!" he said triumphantly, paying no mind to sophie's oblique stare as he strode forward. "this secondhand embarrassment will be the end of me."

he told himself this reasoning despite his heart thundering against his ribs. it was easy enough to weave himself through the couples, swaying his body with the beat of the music as he neared you.

and, when it came time for you and the pest to pass him, he was quick to sidestep into place and grab your waist, spinning you out of rhythm in a full-circle until the other man's hands were off of you entirely.

"pardon!" howl called across his shoulder to the flabbergasted other, laughing all the while. "I've been waiting quite a while for a turn!"

"howl! what- I thought you didn't want to dance with me?" you were just as startled, whites of your eyes showing as you glanced from him, and then apologetically in at the man.

the wind whistled in your ears when howl swung you around, away from your former partner. even in your stupor, he thought you were still so alluring and beautiful.

his arm tightened around you, pulling you nearly flush against him, noses just about to touch. if you wanted to do a partner dance such as this one, it needed to be done right.

"do you know how awful you looked trying to dance with that fool?" he said to you, cheeks now touching so to whisper in your ear. "I taught you so much better than that. you dance so much better when it's with me."

the warmth radiating from your skin was not enough for him; he wanted you even closer.

"of course I'd dance better with you, howl." you replied. he felt your jaw move against his. "isn't it a normal subconscious behavior to want to do well in front of your teacher?"

he clicked his tongue behind his teeth, guiding you deeper into the crowd. "right now, I'm not your teacher."

"I'm not a wizard. you're not my apprentice." he continued, wedging his fingers deeper through yours as he pulled your hand inward. "I'm your partner. the only person you should see."

when he brought the back of your hand to his lips, placing a lasting kiss to the back of it, he felt your cheeks grow hot.

divider; @/saradika

repost from my deleted blog: cardeneiv

[ccghastly]

Sub, Dom, or Switch

And Top, Bottom, or Both

With the Rdr2 boys

Some short headcanons on how the Van der Linde men like to get it.

(Nothing explicit, everything's written pretty obliquely)

Arthur, John, Charles, Hosea, Dutch, Keiran, Bill, Sean, Lenny, Javier, Micah, 

Arthur: 

Switch

Really depends on his mood.

Sometimes he's in the mood to feel big and in control, and sometimes he wants to lay back and be taken care of.

Both

He likes both equally well.

He just likes pleasure, however he's given it.

John: 

Sub

A bratty sub, will snark the entire time, but not so secretly really likes being bossed around.

Top

Liked bottoming a bit too much the few times he tried it, and it made him feel insecure, so he sticks to topping 

He is however very good at oral

Charles:

Switch

Not generally one for bed games, but depending on what his partner likes he can go either way

Top

Service top, loves taking care of his partners.

Had some bad experiences bottoming, so really doesn't prefer to do it anymore. But if he really trusts you he might be willing to give it a try.

Hosea:

Dom

Soft Dom, lots of praise and compliments.

Firm but sweet. Unlikely to give physical punishments.

Top

Simply doesn't derive a lot of pleasure from bottoming 

Dutch: 

Dom 

Because not being in control makes him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

Both

Surprisingly willing to go either way

As long as he's still holding the reins, so to speak.

Keiran:

Sub

Tried Doming once or twice but got too nervous that he was doing it wrong.

Likes having clear instructions and plainly stated punishments for if he doesn't follow them. Just likes knowing what to do, and getting praise for doing it.

Both

Can go either way, entirely dependent on what his partner would like to do.

Is very whiny either way, he tears up and gets all stuttery. It's cute as hell.

Bill: 

Dom

Would be a switch if he wasn't madly insecure about his masculinity

If he trusts you he'd be willing to take a few orders.

Top

Bottoming also makes him feel very insecure

But as long as you never make fun of him for maybe wanting it, he'd probably open up enough to admit that he actually likes it either way.

Sean:

Switch

Depending on who he's with he either wants to give until they can't walk or take it until he can't.

Both

This boy just really wants to get fucked up, however the mood strikes him. Refuses to be shamed for it, everyone wants a piece of Macguire.

Lenny:

Dom

Really likes taking care of his partners, watching them fall to pleasure and knowing its all thanks to him.

The king of sweet aftercare.

Top

Was never interested in trying bottoming and still isn't.

Javier:

Switch

Leans more Dom but is willing to go either way depending on his partner.

Both

He is the loudest in bed, hands down. If he's talking It's almost entirely in Spanish, but he gets incoherent rapidly.

Very unashamed of how loud he is, why would he feel bad about a partner that makes him feel so good?

Micah:

Switch

Can go either way, but will run his mouth the entire time.

Some of what he says isn't even close to dirty talk, he just says whatever the hell comes to mind with no filter.

Bottom

He's, perhaps unsurprisingly, shameless about it. In fact he'll taunt his partners if they're not giving it to him well enough.

He's got standards and if they can't give him what he wants he'll go find someone who can.

(Here ya go, hoped you liked it! Lemme know what you think, I'd love to hear everyone's yays or nays)

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - A Fine Line

Vi slowly wins over Caitlyn's parents...

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

The kitchen is a modest sunlit geometry. Vi gets started on breakfast. Caitlyn handles the tea-brewing and the clean-up. After moving in together, they've developed a system. Vi has taught Caitlyn how to hang her towels, do the dishes, fold the laundry. Caitlyn has taught Vi how to pick wines, deposit a check and write 'Thank-You' cards. The slow ramp-up of domesticity is sweetened by a shared sense of novelty.

It’s a freedom neither of them has enjoyed before.

Cracking two eggs one-handed against the bowl, Vi begins whisking. Into the silky saffron froth, she sprinkles a pinch of sea salt and a dash of cayenne. Poverty and pickles go hand-in-hand—that's the saying belowground. Yet Piltover is the real loser when it comes to zesty cuisine. All the premium produce in the world doesn't compensate for their lack of spice.

Since moving in together, Vi has shown Caitlyn a dozen ways eggs can be served. There is no wrong way to cook one, so long as it's flavorful. Ditto for stews, soups, sandwiches.  Her sump-vole fritters—a barbarism to most Topsiders—have won the highest praise. Since then, Caitlyn has sampled all the dishes in Vi's repertoire: a charcuterie board of pickles, rice and onion pilaf, crawfish stuffed with cheap macaroni. 

Last week, she'd invited her parents on a tentative dinner. Their first together in a month.

Councilor Kiramman had stared at her plate with polite revulsion. But as the wine flowed and Mister Kiramman proffered genial compliments on every dish, the matriarch began to thaw.  Midway, she'd tasted a forkful of Vi's sump-vole fritter. A startled smile had softened her severe face. In that moment, the resemblance to Caitlyn was uncanny.

"Where did you learn this dish, child?"

"Down-low, Councilor," Vi replied, smiling.

"Is it always so spicy?"

Vi cocked her head. "There's a fine line between good flavor and a hole in your gut. You gotta walk it."

Caitlyn had stifled a snort. Mister Kiramman hid a smile behind his handkerchief. The Councilor was less amused. But the food had woven its magic, and by the time dessert was served—a tart berry crumble, the only dish Vi could make without setting off smoke detectors—she'd unbent so far as to ask Vi directly for the recipe, instead of addressing Vi obliquely through her husband.

Vi had given her the recipe: a personal gift.

Afterward, Caitlyn grinned with unabashed pride, Vi's hands clasped in hers. "I think she's warming to you."

"Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

Caitlyn's kiss was all the answer Vi needed.

[abalidoth]

Die a Hainly or Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Vilia: Gender, Breath of the Wild, and Representational Sterility

Thanks to @start-anywhere for encouraging me to write this essay!

Major spoilers for Breath of the Wild, minor spoilers for Mass Effect Andromeda and Horizon: Forbidden West, as well as the Tears of the Kingdom trailer and H:FW Burning Shores.

cw: transmisogyny.

"Be careful playing the Gerudo segment," I heard from friends. "There's a transmisogynist joke there."

There's a lot I don't remember about 2017. That year was a perfect recipe for dissociation: I was finishing a very fraught and frustrating PhD dissertation and TAing at the same time, with very little sleep. I was constantly worrying about finding a job after graduation, and moving to a new city sight unseen. I spent the first two months of the year away from Emma for a math fellowship, the longest we'd ever been apart.

And on top of that, I was a closeted trans femme living in Laramie, Wyoming, a town famous for a homophobic hate crime, during the first year of the Trump administration. My gender pressure had been building for years, out to friends online but not to anyone in person save Emma. I knew I wasn't a man but the closest I could come to expressing it was wearing skirts at home, and nail polish on the weekends. (Apply Friday afternoon, remove Sunday evening, repeat weekly.)

But I do remember playing Breath of the Wild with Emma.

Zelda is in the DNA of our relationship -- Emma showed me Ocarina of Time before we even started dating, Twilight Princess was one of the first games we played through together, and I proposed to her with a ceramic replica I made of Anju and Kafei's wedding mask from Majora's Mask.

So, getting to play a new Zelda game -- an extremely good one, at that -- with her, during one of the worst years of my life, was an incredible beacon of light.

So the warning about a transmisogynist joke in the Gerudo segment was disappointing, but I kept it in mind as we played.

For those who haven't played the game, here's a quick synopsis of that quest: Link, our hero, needs to access Gerudo Town, a town of all women. (Sorta. Put a pin in that. 📌) You talk to a male shopkeep outside who tells you that he's heard "a man" has been "sneaking" into town, and he's waiting to catch a peek. Other (Gerudo) characters mention an odd human woman, a merchant, who hangs out on the roof of a bazaar a ways outside town. Up there you find Vilia.

(image source: Zelda Wiki, which correctly genders Vilia unlike some wikis 😒)

If you accuse her of being the "man in disguise" she brushes you off and won't speak to you further. If you compliment her, she'll offer to help you get into town, sell you the Gerudo clothing set (grab another pin 📍) and say how pretty you look, making Link blush. Then the wind will blow her veil aside, which we only see obliquely, but we do see that she has facial hair. Link acts surprised.

Okay. Let's unpack.

First off... Vilia is a trans woman with a beard. I'm just gonna treat that as a fact from this point forward. Everyone who actually interacts with her refers to her as a woman, she refers to herself as a woman, we will set "but maybe she's just a crossdresser" or whatever aside, she's a trans woman. With a beard.

Is that problematic?

A big theme of my evolution as a social justice advocate is that "problematic" is meaningless in a vacuum. The existence of a trans woman with a beard is not, itself, problematic. Otherwise that's pretty bad news for me, a trans femme with a beard.

But her depiction... There are definitely some elements of cultural transmisogyny being upheld here. Stubble is a common feature in popular caricatures of the Gross Tranny. Link's reaction being played for comedy makes Vilia's existence sort of a big joke.

And on a surface level examination, it looks like this is a straightforward "man dresses as woman to gain access to women's spaces" story, straight out of Joanne's Twitter-addled fever dreams.

But other than that, Vilia is pretty well treated by the narrative. All of the Gerudo refer to her as a little odd, but fundamentally a helpful person, and they respect her identity. It's clear when Link runs around Gerudo Town that multiple people clock him, but nobody ever throws him out because they just assume he's a trans woman and therefore implicitly welcome.

Vilia's character model isn't exaggerated in any way I'd consider transmisogynist, aside from the facial hair, and Link in the Gerudo outfit is, well, far from an unflattering portrayal.

And importantly, you cannot progress the main story if you misgender her.

There is no other way to get into Gerudo Town, and thereby the Divine Beast Vah Naboris, if you just say "you're a dude, right?" and don't walk it back. You can technically finish the game without any of the four Divine Beasts, but they make it MUCH easier, and a significant chunk of story is locked behind her quest.

So back in 2017 I played this, went "well that wasn't great but it wasn't as bad as I thought," and went on to wear the Gerudo outfit as much as humanly possible.

Flash forward to my 2023 replay, in anticipation of the sequel. I'm avidly curious to replay this section, given my evolution in my own gender understanding. (The first time around, I id'ed as genderqueer and Definitely Not A Guy but I'm not sure I was comfortable with "trans" yet, and definitely not "situationally a girl".)

Turns out? Vilia fuckin' rules. Gender icon. They hate to see a girlbeard winning.

Ok, I'm exaggerating. (A little.) But there is a reason I'm writing this essay, and I came away with a much improved sympathy for her character and her position in the story. I want to talk about why, but first let's clear a couple of those pins.

📌 The Gerudo are an all-female race. This is historically true in the Zelda games, with the single exception of Ganondorf, an ancient incarnation of evil who is born as the only make Gerudo once in an age. Ganondorf isn't in this game (though he is in the sequel!) so he's not relevant here. There are two things to note here: one, the Gerudo are nonwhite and heavily middle eastern coded. This is something I can't get into, as an Extremely White Person, but their interaction with gender is not without racial context and it would be irresponsible of me to not mention it.

But second, and the thing I will talk about, is that they seldom use the words "man" and "woman", but rather "voe" and "vai". We get these translated for us, but they are just that -- translations. They are gender concepts unique to the Gerudo that get mapped imperfectly to Hylian standards. The Gorons, a race of rock people who all use male pronouns and forms of address, are allowed into Gerudo Town, being "neither voe nor vai". And all of the Gerudo characters treat you differently when you're in the Gerudo clothing, even though it's clear that many of them have the perceptiveness to see through it.

I think it makes perfect sense to interpret "vai" as less "woman" and more "fem presenting". The Gerudo's actions are consistent (arguably, more so) if you do so.

📍The Gerudo armor. There's a few things to talk about here. First, Vilia sells it to you rather than just giving it to you. This seems a bit callous, but there's other similar monetary roadblocks in the game, and she's explicitly a traveling merchant and jewels are (as she says) expensive. I don't blame her.

The Gerudo armor is also, in game, pretty terrible. If you're wearing all three pieces you get a tiny bit of heat resistance, but it has basically no armor and can't be upgraded. There is a purchaseable "voe armor" with similar aesthetics but much better stats, but it can't be used to access Gerudo Town.

This is... Not ideal. I like to run around in the Gerudo armor because Link looks absolutely adorable in it; that was more of a priority back then than it is now that I have my own fem wardrobe, but it's still true. I wish it could be upgraded. I also wish you could just wear whatever armor aesthetically and get a different set of bonuses.

Okay. Now. To explain what it is I actually like about Vilia's portrayal, I want to talk about two other transfeminine characters from open world games: Hainly Abrams from Mass Effect: Andromeda and Wekatta from Horizon: Forbidden West.

Hainly Abrams is a scientist on the planet Prodromos in Mass Effect: Andromeda. In her first conversation with you, you can ask her why she came to Andromeda, and she says she was looking for a fresh start for her transition, and then... weirdly deadnames herself, in a way that feels utterly alien to anyone who's interacted with trans people. BioWare took criticism on this... sort of, and patched that conversation to only happen after you gain her trust by saving her fiance. But it's still extremely jarring. I cannot find information about her voice actress.

Wekatta is a troop leader of the Sky Clan Tenakth in H:FW. Like Vilia, the narrative is actually somewhat cagey as to whether she's a trans woman or not. I don't believe anyone actually refers to her with she/her pronouns, unlike Vilia, and the closest she gets to saying she's trans is

Aloy: And you think he's crazy for trying?

Wekatta: I'm not a fan of that word. When I chose to wear a woman's armor, people called me crazy, too.

Wekatta only shows up for a single minor side quest, and doesn't really get to actually do anything. She is at least voiced by a trans voice actress, Rebecca Root.

Both of these portrayals are mostly free of overt transmisogyny. Hainly deadnames herself in a strange and off-putting way, and Wekatta's portrayal is ambiguous to the point of over-caution, but there's not much that could be read as a transphobic joke like in Vilia's story.

They're also both boring as heck. And neither of them really feels trans.

Both of these characters feel like existing bit-player characters with one "bee tee dubs, I am A Tran" line slapped into their dialog. Sure there isn't anything overtly wrong with that kind of representation, if it's done carefully, but this is "minor character mentions he has a husband" rep, not "on-screen gay kiss with main character" rep. (Side note, though, good for Guerrilla for making Aloy canonically queer in Burning Shores. Haven't played it yet but I'm stoked to. Hell yeah.)

Vilia, as problematic as elements of her portrayal are, feels like a real transfeminine person. She feels more like me. Her gender is kinda messy! She has a girlbeard! She gets to call you out if you misgender her!

And best of all, her interactions with Link (excluding the shocked face at the end, which is pretty annoying) can be read very easily as an older, more experienced trans woman helping a younger trans girl with early transition, giving her her first feminine outfit and complimenting her. There's no wonder why transfem Link is such a popular headcanon. (My personal favorite for Link is some kind of transfeminine genderfluid.)

Vilia isn't perfect, but truly great and realistic trans representation is going to be easier if you start with a Vilia and clip off the overtly problematic bits, than if you start with a Wekatta or a Hainly and try to make them feel more real.

[transmutationisms]

can you expound on your thoughts on the logan footage scene? it kinda felt Too sentimental to me but i cant tell if thats just me being overly nitpicky

eh yeah i understand what they were going for but it honestly just didn't land for me. like i get why they wanted to show logan having that cameraderie with his c-suite. the footage just felt a bit heavy-handed and especially that shot of all the sibs tearing up was like.... a little bit tonally off from the rest of the episode. like almost this interlude that just felt awkward and out of place to me. which is a shame because i thought the emotionality of most of that sequence in logan's place worked really well, and i did like that second of shiv complimenting connor's logan impression on the tape lmao (also the fact that connor was there). it didn't, like, ruin the episode for me but i didn't love it and if i'm honest i didn't love logan making another appearance period. it's a hard thing to pull off on a show with characters who normally do emotion in such an oblique and constipated way.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Alright! If it's the end, it's time to tell you the truth >:D

Hare! In addition to being 'oblique', you are also a stowaway. At least, we use your name to address to those who don't pay for their ticket and sit quietly, unnoticeable. Like a hare in the snow 🐇

The question is, how is it that your name suits you so perfectly? Even within the natural world. I mean, bunnies are adorable and domestic, and so is Rabbit. And hares are badass and kick-ass and real tough guys and - oh my god! - have ya seen their CLAWS?! I swear, if they showed me two picture with you and a 'fuzzy bastard', I wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

I have a weird way of making compliments, yeah.

<3

[boombox-fuckboy]

EM: “Mediocre advice columnist”?

AMET: The advice itself is sound, but you have a tendency to shoehorn in pseudo-intellectual tangents, then finish off with some general statement that relates more to those philosophical musings than to the situation at hand, as though you’re unable to answer a question without obliquely relating it to some event in your life that you haven’t dealt with yourself.

EM: Okay, that’s fair.

DOLOR SIT: He also said your relationship advice sounds like it was written by “an alien anthropologist fascinated yet disgusted by human courtship rituals.”

AMET: That was a compliment.

The Godshead Incidental, Episode 3: Early Action

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 15th October ✨

Here are the shows that got me to and from my night shifts! 🚴🏻‍♀️🎧

Spoilers!!

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (137) ough the scene with Yaretzi and Mort 😭 both nearly hurting her in their desperation to comfort each other. “How do you expect me to say goodbye to you?” <- how do you expect ME to go about my day after hearing this?!?! God, she’s going to be a sight to see when she finds out what’s happened to Polly 🥶

Emily Kellog did such a good job! I had a feeling she was going to pop up in the LEM segment and I loved all the oblique Parkdale references.

The references to the observer effect are so cool! Even if he hadn’t woken Mort, would the watching itself have been enough to sway the path of the future - is Nikignik still affecting things now? Are we???

🤴InCo ( @itmeblog ) (S2 E15-16) I personally would love to have therapy with SAWA. Let me know if she’s taking new clients.

🧛‍♂️ @re-dracula Minaaaaaaaa 💔 my heart breaks for her and friend Jonathan!! We’re officially past the part of the book where I got up to last year. It’s all new to me from here!

🧬 Regina Prime I knew that the season finale was going to end on a cliffhanger but I would not have picked this one! What the hell is going on?!?! I’ve really enjoyed the way this season played with timelines and the listener’s expectations and I’m really excited for more!

🥾 @doyoucopypod (13) oh mAN! THEY WERE SO CLOSE TO GETTING OUT!!! 😭😭 seriously!!! I’m on absolute tenterhooks waiting for the resolution to this!! Tell me everything, I need to know!!

🐬 @patterspod nah, I’m sorry, the jokes about how a moving guy describes the gothic surroundings made me CACKLE. it hit like when Helen Mirren breaks the 4th wall in Barbie and if you know me you’ll know that’s a huge compliment. loved this.

I’m really looking forward to catching up on the Tiny Terrors releases this week! So many cool people have been involved, they’re sure to be spooky!! 👻

[naffeclipse]

I can only imagine the frustration and excitement the detectives would feel towards a mafia Y/N. Like, I’m trying to hate you but you make it hard kind of feeling. It doesn’t help that Y/N probably doesn’t seem to be a genuinely bad person either. Eclipse is probably even worse off knowing he wants Y/N but now has a genuine obstacle in his way which Y/N’s power and influence.

Oh yes, that's the vibe! Mafia Boss!Y/N is frustratingly charming much to the detectives' chagrin! They are so dangerously illegal but they offer them a place at their table and tell them again and again that they have great plans to change this city for the better. Detective Sun and Detective Moon shouldn't be so flattered when Y/N compliments their work and intelligence. The detectives should resist a lot more when Y/N tells them to visit one of their hideouts, although, of course, the detectives can't know where it is, so blindfolds are included in that invitation.

Eclipse, on the other hand, faces a true roadblock. Y/N does have the manpower and the support to keep him at bay, but he still insists on seeing them in meetings and dinners. Y/N only obliques when they're in an agreeable mood, but even then, there are armed men surrounding the bar they're sitting at on every side. Eclipse can't give Y/N one bruise without inciting a very deadly gunfight, and Y/N knows how much Eclipse wants to. Y/N makes it clear that they're not interested in Eclipse's plans, but he's persistent, and still holds his own in the dirty city, so they can't outright ignore him, but they can refuse him.

[liesmyth]

Me and my friend hold to our theory that God has told Ianthe she reminds him of a song from before the Resurrection called Pumped Up Kicks He has told her no further context. She is convinced it's a compliment about her fashion and status. God was in fact just finding the nicest way he could to convey the idea of "you fucking creep me out and come across as a serial killer" without ruining his chances of her being his friend

This is of course John in the absolute depths of his Sluts Era when he really, really wants Ianthe to like him for some reason so he has to be oblique even in his insults. John right before or after Sad Slut Era would just smile and offer her tea and give her a biscuit and say, by the way Ianthe you're so fucking creepy :) because he knows no matter what she'd be like aw thank you *wearing her employee of the month badge*

Also I think Ianthe would be glad to know she comes across as a serial killer. She tries SO hard to keep up her villain era vibes

[xochaithoughts]

my big three: cancer sun, taurus moon, scorpio rising

my pronouns are she/her and something that I'm proud of myself for is being able to get up and never give up, no matter how difficult things may be.

my question is: What is my next romantic partner's personality like and where can I meet them? (I have a male preference if that also helps)

Tarot Card(s): Seven of Wands, The World (they fell out and belonged together) Oblique Strategies card: The most important thing is the thing most easily forgotten

Your next romantic partner’s personality compliments your own! He is strong and values hard work. He intuitive, intelligent and a like-minded, out-of-the-box thinker. He takes pride in the energy he sends out into the world and believes it always comes back in turn. I kept the second card in your reading because while it depicts you two as a couple, you are a part of each other. There is a wholeness and playfulness in the space between you two.

Oblique Strategies is meant to challenge your way of thinking, forcing you to think laterally rather than linearly. Ask yourself what this card means for you. To me, this reads like a fortune cookie, but one that rings with a strangely resonant promise. You’re destined to meet. Your souls know it already, even though you have forgotten. Your meeting is a thing of divine timing. You’ll receive signs leading up to this event. 4s are very important here.

🚪 p.s. hello again, helene! you are resilience embodied! proud of you!

[crowdsourcedloner]

7. Do they (or would they) pursue the other character’s affection, and if so, how? Do they tell the other character how they feel? Try to earn their admiration? Woo them with romantic gestures? Flirt with them, skillfully or otherwise?

Nailah pursues G'raha's affection in the most oblique ways possible, all for the sake of plausible deniability should he not return her affections. She'll try to spend time around him ("I have nowhere better to be" or "I think you'll like this place") or she'll get food for him ("I was hungry and bought more than I could eat") or she'll bring a neat trinket for him (she doesn't even try to justify it, she just leaves it with a little note on his desk saying its for him).

Words don't come easily to her, and even less so when she's trying to communicate her feelings. Whenever she's tried to tell him how much he means to her, even as a friend, the words get caught in her throat and refuse to come out. She's somewhat better at writing her thoughts into poetry, but her poor handwriting and habit of switching between hroth and common makes them difficult to read. She has recently discovered an interest in scoring music, though, and is trying to compose a song to give to him in the form of a small music box. She hopes it will, at the very least, show him how she sees him as a good friend and admires his character.

On G'raha's side, he tries to be as verbally open as possible with her without outright saying he loves her. He'll tell her about places he's recently read about to try and make conversation with her, which she usually obliges in her normal terse way. He'll shower her in compliments at the slightest provocation, nearly waxing poetic at her accomplishments, which she bashfully brushes off. His most successful attempts have been letters detailing what he's been up to since they last met, which he leaves in her room at the annex for her to find later. She cherishes each one she finds.

[mercurygray]

Unforeseen + punctual for one of your OCs in HOTD? Juno xx

Decided I need to write more Elin. As one does. This is mildly NSFW.

She never tired of coming home.

The townhouse near the Red Keep would never compare to the splendor of Casterly Rock - she was reminded of that every time she made the journey there and back. But the Rock was not Elin's to claim, and this place was - it was her staff who met her at the door to take her cloak, her tapestries and hangings that decorated the walls. Modest, perhaps, but only compared against the gilt trimmings of the Lannister castles. She let her maidservant take her cloak and gloves and carefully climbed the steps to the upper landing, passing another embroidered lion as she went. But no one will forget a Lannister lives here, either.

They had made good time, from the western coast - Elin fairly marveled sometimes that the trip had only taken twenty days, but there had been no rain to speak of, and the roads had been good. The Master of Coin would complain about the expense of such building works, when Viserys bid the treasury pay out for their upkeep, but the cost was worth it, when a journey of nearly a month lost four or five days.

"I said I was not to be disturbed," Tyland said angrily from his chair, obviously very deep in his ledgers.

"The mistress said I should," Elin said with a grin from the door. Her husband looked up, surprised at her voice, and she allowed herself even more of a smile.

"We didn't expect you for another week!"

"The realm's investment in its roads is paying out."

"I thought you would have sent a raven when you were closer Harrenhall! I would have had the servant- never mind. How was the journey? How is Johanna?" He pushed his chair away from his desk a little, and she came around to his side, resting on the edge of the desk.

"Well, and delivered of a healthy baby girl."

Tyland sighed. "How many does that make?"

"Five."

He scoffed - and with good reason. Jason's daughters were all lovely girls - but at the end of it all, a daughter was still a daughter, and five of them was only adding insult to injury. "How did my brother manage?"

"He stayed well enough away until we were done and had the good sense not to say anything terrible after."

"And he behaved himself, otherwise?" Tyland's eyes were sharp.

"I should say suprisingly, but it was explained to me later that he has a new mistress and that settled the matter some," Elin reported with an amused look at her husband. "If I didn't know you better, Tyland, I'd say you were disappointed."

"My wife is owed the compliment of a little flirtation," the Master of Coin offered, somewhat obliquely, his shoulders set just the way they did when he was feeling defensive.

"Well, if I'd wanted that I could have stayed nearer to home. The Prince greeted me on my way in. Aha - see?" Elin smiled at Tyland's sudden scowl. Prince Aegon was predictable in many ways - and trying to proposition the wife of one of his courtiers was a regular occurence. "He only does it to vex you, you know. If I were to say yes to his proposals he'd be terrified. You know as well as I do he only likes women who don't say no."

"That pup needs to learn to mind his manners."

"I'm not entirely sure he has any," Elin reported with mild amusement. "Not that the Queen hasn't tried." She made herself comfortable on the edge of his desk, facing her husband and studying his face. "Shall I tell you what he said?" she asked, brushing a hair out of his face and choosing her words carefully. Her husband said nothing, but she knew he wanted it, that swell of jealousy. "He asked after my journey, neatly enough, and then said if my dry old stick didn't serve me well enough there was plenty of sap in other trees." Her hand traced down his chest, over the blackwork of his tunic and his golden chain, gently moving her hand between his thighs. "I told him he was kind to offer, but that old wood is stronger than green."

"Elin," Tyland's voice was tinged with warning and desire, closing his eyes as she moved aside his tunic and began undoing the points of his hose so she might slip her hand inside, finding the length of him and letting her fingers just ghost over his skin before she took him in her hand. "Elin, it's the middle of the afternoon."

"And it's a very long ride from Lannisport," she said, patience in every word. "Your wife wants something between her legs that isn't a horse - or a piddling princeling." I've been gone three months and I miss my husband.

"I've - ah! a meeting with -" he lost his thought as he moaned again, his eyes still closed. "Jasper Wylde. And he's usually-" Tyland groaned. "Punctual."

Elin smiled, continuing to stroke him without a second thought. "Perhaps we can make the Ironrod jealous, too," she said, moving closer so she could kiss his face, her hand still stroking him steadily. "Lady Wylde's not nearly as pretty as me."

[thebestoftragedy]

https://www.gq.com/story/james-cameron-profile-men-of-the-year-2022

if you care at all about insane men. please read this. fave quotes below the cut.

@redactedmatopoeia @entertheaardvark you are both deranged go-getter enjoyers. I want to invite james cameron to dinner with all of you.

Cameron recalled working with Ron Howard, the famously nice director, on the visual effects for Apollo 13: “And I just watched what a great guy he was. I'm like, ‘I'm a total asshole compared to Ron Howard. I have to get in touch with my inner Ron Howard.’ And he probably has bad days, too, I don't know, but I didn't see it. And he was so complimentary to people. I always figured that no negative comment was the equivalent of a compliment. That's not how people are wired at all. You have to actually say it out loud.”

...

Because of Cameron’s clarity, and his ability to bring his crew into his process, Saldaña said, “When you are a part of a James Cameron project, you don’t feel like a tool. You don’t feel objectified.” But she acknowledged it took a particular mental toughness: “If you can take it, hang on, because it’s always going to be fun and beautiful and rewarding. But if you’re sensitive, and you can’t take it, then trust me, there is always somebody else who is going to accept it.” (She also said she’d gotten good advice from another actor who had worked with Cameron before, who’d noticed that Cameron often got so focused on what he was doing that he forgot to eat: “If he starts getting edgy, make sure you give him some chocolate and you give him some nuts.”)

…

A decade ago, Cameron and his wife decided to become vegans: “I’m 10 years, one hundred percent, not a molecule that I know of of animal entering my face. And I’m healthier than I’ve ever been, and most of these punks can’t keep up with me.” In an oblique way, this is part of the explanation for why Cameron has at times drifted away from filmmaking. “Nobody does empathy better than Hollywood,” Cameron told me. “But there’s a certain point where my mind wants to solve problems that are real-world problems.”

…

But Cameron still remembers an executive at the company—“who will go unnamed, because this is a really negative review”—who approached Cameron with a “stricken cancer-diagnosis expression” after a prerelease screening of the film and begged the director to shorten it. “I said something I’ve never said to anybody else in the business,” Cameron recalled. He said he told him, “ ‘I think this movie is going to make all the fucking money. And when it does, it’s going to be too late for you to love the film. The time for you to love the movie is today. So I’m not asking you to say something that you don’t feel, but just know that I will always know that no matter how complimentary you are about the movie in the future when it makes all the money’—and that’s exactly what I said, in caps, ALL THE MONEY, not some of the money, all the fucking money. I said, ‘You can’t come back to me and compliment the film or chum along and say, ‘Look what we did together.’ You won’t be able to do that.’ At that point, that particular studio executive flipped out and went bug shit on me. And I told him to get the fuck out of my office. And that’s where it was left.”

…

I was driving back to my hotel, not too long after, when the phone rang. It was Cameron, wanting to talk again about the shuttle flight he turned down and which eventually became—Goldin’s recollection differs here again, but no matter—a very notorious flight indeed. “I forgot the punch line to the story!” Cameron said. “The punch line is, the shuttle mission I refused? It was the Columbia.” His voice rose: “I fucking saved my own life by choosing the higher path!”