#with how the story is going at least three of my predictions are going to be right

[dilf-luvr-4evr]

Marry-Me-Salmon | Joel Miller x F!Reader

The amount of game Joel fics aren’t enough‼️ Taking matters into my own hands. Though I think they somewhat behave the same! I saw these recipes of “marry me salmon” going around and got inspired lol. Just tooth rotting fluff and a bit predictable but I just wanna see this man happy :(🩷

(Set in Jackson and Joel lives forever in MY blog ☝🏼)

Joel had bought a ring.

It was like his body moved on its own. When he laid his eyes on the thing, he thought there could possibly be no ring that could be more you.

That was a week ago. Why he bought it, he still doesn’t know. Well.. He knows exactly why. Just didn’t want to do it. Scared to do it. And this is coming from a man who isn’t scared of much.

You were arguably the best thing to ever walk into his life. Why you chose his hard-ass, he’ll never understand. After three years of you shutting him up and convincing him that you love him (you’d make him repeat it too), by default he’d say that yes, you do love him. But deep down, he still has a hard time believing it. He just knows that he’s very scared of losing you. And that he’s a goddamn lucky bastard.

So he decided, he doesn’t want to scare you off until he’s perfectly sure you wanted to be with him (yes, three whole years and he still isn’t sure). The ugly insecure monster within him thinks the day will never arrive. But in the comfortable silence that you two occasionally shared tangled with each other, he somehow had a feeling. Though fleeting, he did feel from the way you squeezed his hand, that you wanted this forever thing just as much as he did. So maybe — just maybe — your words did pierce through him. And he keeps the ring in his back pocket all the time just in case.

A week ago, you had overheard some ladies in the Square telling a story about how her husband of thirty-six years decided to propose to her because she cooked him the marry-me-salmon. You scoffed at the idea. There was no way it was that simple. Right?

Fast forward to present day, a salmon fillet was laid in front of you. You didn’t know how, you didn’t know why, but you managed to pull the strings. Although.. you know exactly why. Just didn’t wanna admit it. Shy to say it. Hence the salmon. You just wanted to cook Joel something nice. A lie you tell yourself.

The problem is, you don’t really cook. You learned to, yes, and occasionally do because of the situation of the world. But the marry-me-salmon intimidated you, the scribbled recipe mocking you from the counter. Were you too desperate? No use crying over spilled milk. Or in this case, killed salmon.

“What’s this I’m smelling?” You can hear the faint sound of Joel’s teasing as he made his way downstairs. You rolled your eyes, knowing he’d make fun of you attempting to cook. Before you know it, he was already behind you, trying to take a peek at what you’re making.

“Go away, it’s a surprise,” you quickly say, rushing to cover the recipe title. You would rather die than have him see that. He chuckled at your panicked reaction and raised his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, darlin’,” he grinned ear to ear, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before retreating to the dining table. “Just don’t burn down the kitchen,” he teased again. You clicked your tongue in annoyance though you can’t help but smile.

You messed up the recipe a bit. And it didn’t help that Joel kept looking up from the book that Ellie lent him to see what you’re cooking. You shouldn’t have said it was a surprise because you’ve got him awfully curious. At least it’s finally finished. You tried to plate it nicely, earning a few chuckles from Joel from how endearing you looked. It was lost on him why you had to be doing all this.

“And what did I do to deserve this?” He asked, cocking a brow at you when you put down the dish in front of him. He immediately closed his book, taking a whiff of the salmon.

“Just.. Cause I love you,” you smiled, taking a seat across him and propping your cheek on your palm. He chuckled again, warmth spreading in his chest. There was no way you cooked for him without any ulterior motive. If Joel learned anything from those three years with you, it is that you hate cooking unless you really have to.

But when you’re this beautiful, speaking to him so softly with that angelic smile? All for him? Joel chooses to believe you. He was a goddamn lucky bastard indeed.

“Well I love you too darlin’, thank you,” he says genuinely in that baritone voice of his. The sweetness of the moment didn’t last very long as he starts cutting the fish and you anxiously waited for his reaction. You just hope that the little mistake you made wasn’t very crucial to the dish. He eventually puts it in his mouth and started chewing.

“Well?” You ask, not even giving him a second. He hummed, taking a moment to process the taste. It was quite alright. He thought it could use more salt.

“S’good,” he nodded with a little smile. You knew damn well he was lying. And you knew that he would finish the whole thing anyway just because you made it. You wondered if the mistake you made had been that bad or if the lady at the square was full of shit.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You pouted, pulling the plate and taking a fork to taste it yourself.

“Darlin’, I said it was good,” he insisted, his brows knitted together. He’d tease you til his death but he’s so sweet when he needed to be. It made you feel really bad. You finally tried it yourself and none of you were exactly right. It was just.. Average. Okay. Edible. Just needed more salt. You felt silly for not giving it a taste test before serving it.

“I’ll fix it,” you say, abruptly standing up to look for the salt above the counter. It wasn’t there. You hurriedly searched the kitchen like a cop scanning for drugs.

“Darlin’,” Joel chuckled, standing with you. “Would you just sit down?” You didn’t listen, suddenly remembering that you ate breakfast in front of the TV and brought the salt with you. You were already running to the couch before Joel could stop you.

As he shakes his head with a loving smile, he sees it. The scribbled recipe on the counter. The marry-me-salmon.

He felt like the wind got knocked out of his lungs. This was it. You wanted to marry him. He quickly reached into his back pocket as if he was trained to do so upon hearing the information. His mind was screaming at him, now! Now! Now! Hell, did he even prepare a question?

You got back to the kitchen to find Joel on one knee. A ring between his thumb and his pointer finger. Funny enough, you thought it really was because of the salmon. In a way, it is kind of true. Are all salmons hexed with a marriage spell no matter how bad they taste? Doesn’t matter. Joel Miller, the love of your life, was finally proposing to you. You shakily exhaled as if you’ve been holding your breath for a while.

“Darlin’..” Joel began, his voice shaking. Though he didn’t really know what to say except for the desperation that he felt. The urgency to just be with you. “Please marry me?”

As tears formed in your eyes, still not believing what’s happening, you can’t help but ask him, “Is it because of the salmon?”

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

[someoneintheshadow456]

Xenoblade 1 thus far be like:

The Monado: Can't damage organic beings but can only damage mechanical beings

Mechons with Faces: Can speak, have red streaming things in their "arms" and "legs", and are immune to the Monado. Always claim that they want to eat the humans for some strange reason that we certainly can't figure out.

Metal Face: Has Mumkar's voice and claws and behaves as though he already knows Shulk and co.

Xord: Stops in his tracks when you asks his name and wonders if "he ever really had one"

Fiora: Dies in the early game but somehow is playable (AND gains exp!), has equipment, and has Heart to Hearts. Is "eaten" by a Mechon shortly after dying.

Dickson: The one time he is playable he doesn't have skill tree link or gain exp, is a guest party member for the rest of the game, has no equipment, and he makes a comment about having to "deceive those kids" en route to the Entia's place

Me:

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Beating Perfectionism

1. Recognising writing perfectionism. It’s not usually as literal as “This isn’t 100% perfect and so it is the worst thing ever”, in my experience it usually sneaks up more subtly. Things like where you should probably be continuing on but if you don’t figure out how to word this paragraph better it’s just going to bug you the whole time, or where you’re growing demotivated because you don’t know how to describe the scene 100% exactly as you can imagine it in your head, or things along those lines where your desire to be exact can get in the way of progression. In isolated scenarios this is natural, but if it’s regularly and notably impacting your progress then there’s a more pressing issue

2. Write now, edit later. Easier said than done, which always infuriated me until I worked out how it translates into practice; you need to recognise what the purpose of this stage of the writing process is and when editing will hinder you more than help you. Anything up to and including your first draft is purely done for structural and creative purposes, and trying to impose perfection on a creative process will naturally stifle said creativity. Creativity demands the freedom of imperfection

3. Perfection is stagnant. We all know that we have to give our characters flaws and challenges to overcome since, otherwise, there’s no room for growth or conflict or plot, and it ends up being boring and predictable at best - and it’s just the same as your writing. Say you wrote the absolute perfect book; the perfect plot, the perfect characters, the perfect arcs, the perfect ending, etc etc. It’s an overnight bestseller and you’re discussed as a literary great for all time. Everyone, even those outside of your target demographic, call it the perfect book. Not only would that first require you to turn the perfect book into something objective, which is impossible, but it would also mean that you would either never write again, because you can never do better than your perfect book, or you’ll always write the exact same thing in the exact same way to ensure constant perfection. It’s repetitive, it’s boring, and all in all it’s just fearful behaviour meant to protect you from criticism that you aren’t used to, rather than allowing yourself to get acclimated to less than purely positive feedback

4. Faulty comparisons. Comparing your writing to that of a published author’s is great from an analytical perspective, but it can easily just become a case of “Their work is so much better, mine sucks, I’ll never be as good as them or as good as any ‘real’ writer”. You need to remember that you’re comparing a completely finished draft, which likely underwent at least three major edits and could have even had upwards of ten, to wherever it is you’re at. A surprising number of people compare their *first* draft to a finished product, which is insanity when you think of it that way; it seems so obvious from this perspective why your first attempt isn’t as good as their tenth. You also end up comparing your ability to describe the images in your head to their ability to craft a new image in your head; I guarantee you that the image the author came up with isn’t the one their readers have, and they’re kicking themselves for not being able to get it exactly as they themselves imagine it. Only the author knows what image they’re working off of; the readers don’t, and they can imagine their own variation which is just as amazing

5. Up close and too personal. Expanding on the last point, just in general it’s harder to describe something in coherent words than it is to process it when someone else prompts you to do so. You end up frustrated and going over it a gazillion times, even to the point where words don’t even look like words anymore. You’ve got this perfect vision of how the whole story is supposed to go, and when you very understandably can’t flawlessly translate every single minute detail to your satisfaction, it’s demotivating. You’re emotionally attached to this perfect version that can’t ever be fully articulated through any other medium. But on the other hand, when consuming other media that you didn’t have a hand in creating, you’re viewing it with perfectly fresh eyes; you have no ‘perfect ideal’ of how everything is supposed to look and feel and be, so the images the final product conjures up become that idealised version - its no wonder why it always feels like every writer except you can pull off their visions when your writing is the only one you have such rigorous preconceived notions of

6. That’s entertainment. Of course writing can be stressful and draining and frustrating and all other sorts of nasty things, but if overall you can’t say that you ultimately enjoy it, you’re not writing for the right reasons. You’ll never take true pride in your work if it only brings you misery. Take a step back, figure out what you can do to make things more fun for you - or at least less like a chore - and work from there

7. Write for yourself. One of the things that most gets to me when writing is “If this was found and read by someone I know, how would that feel?”, which has lead me on multiple occasions to backtrack and try to be less cringe or less weird or less preachy or whatever else. It’s harder to share your work with people you know whose opinions you care about and whose impressions of you have the potential of shifting based on this - sharing it to strangers whose opinions ultimately don’t matter and who you’ll never have to interact with again is somehow a lot less scary because their judgements won’t stick. But allowing the imaginary opinions of others to dictate not even your finished project, but your unmoderated creative process in general? Nobody is going to see this without your say so; this is not the time to be fussing over how others may perceive your writing. The only opinion that matters at this stage is your own

8. Redirection. Instead of focusing on quality, focusing on quantity has helped me to improve my perfectionism issues; it doesn’t matter if I write twenty paragraphs of complete BS so long as I’ve written twenty paragraphs or something that may or may not be useful later. I can still let myself feel accomplished regardless of quality, and if I later have to throw out whole chapters, so be it

9. That’s a problem for future me. A lot of people have no idea how to edit, or what to look for when they do so, so having a clear idea of what you want to edit by the time the editing session comes around is gonna be a game-changer once you’re supposed to be editing. Save the clear work for when you’re allocating time for it and you’ll have a much easier and more focused start to the editing process. It’ll be more motivating than staring blankly at the intimidating word count, at least

10. The application of applications. If all else fails and you’re still going back to edit what you’ve just wrote in some struggle for the perfect writing, there are apps and websites that you can use that physically prevent you from editing your work until you’re done with it. If nothing else, maybe it can help train you away from major edits as you go

[eddiernunson]

Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev |

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.

Word Count: 6.8k

This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.

Chapter 6

You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”

“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.

“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.

“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”

“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.

“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.

Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.

He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.

“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.

He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.

He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.

Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”

“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.

“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.

“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.

You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.

You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.

“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.

The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.

Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.

Now all of that seems silly.

The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.

You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.

Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.

When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.

His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.

“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.

“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.

“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”

Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.

“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.

“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.

The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.

“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.

You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.

Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.

Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.

The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”

You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.

“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.

You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.

“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.

“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.

“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”

“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”

“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”

Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.

You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”

Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.

Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.

“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.

Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.

Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”

A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”

“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.

Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.

Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.

Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.

“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.

“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”

“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”

You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.

The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.

The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.

Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.

“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.

“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.

“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.

“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.

He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”

You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”

“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.

“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”

“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”

“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”

You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”

Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”

“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.

“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”

Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.

He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.

“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.

He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”

He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.

“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.

A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”

Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”

“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.

A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.

His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.

His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”

“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”

You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”

“Were you?”

You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”

“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”

You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”

“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”

You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”

Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”

“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”

His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”

“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.

“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.

It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.

Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.

You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”

“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”

“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.

“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.

You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.

You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”

It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.

“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”

You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”

Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”

No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.

“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”

It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.

“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”

Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.

“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”

It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.

“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”

You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”

Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.

“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”

All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.

The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”

“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.

“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”

Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.

But your brain has turned into a puddle.

“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”

You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.

Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.

He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.

“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.

You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”

“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.

“Ed–”

“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.

“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.

“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”

Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”

“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.

“Might be true.”

First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.

His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?

He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”

You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”

“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”

“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.

“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.

He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.

We probably should keep it as a one time only event.

You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.

Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.

By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.

The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.

Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.

-

Six Months Later

Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”

You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”

“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”

“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.

“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.

“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”

“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.

The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.

After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.

A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.

You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.

Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.

Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.

Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”

You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.

You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.

Sometimes it's just easier that way.

Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“

He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.

For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.

And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.

Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.

“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”

When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.

A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.

Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.

But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—

Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.

The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.

The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.

”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”

-

Oop.

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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭

[agatharkn3ss]

Lilia Calderu is extremely important (Spoilers)

Lilia says in ep.5 that she "reads people" and she "reads time". But she is much more than that, she just doesn't know it yet.

I believe Lilia Calderu is Fate itself - or Fate of this coven at least.

You can see the background of Patti's end credit is the tarot table. This is going to be her air trial in episode 7. But do you also see the word "Fate"? Circled in red?

Now... Doesn't that remind you of something? Like maybe... "Circle sewn with Fate"?

Oh and what else does Lilia do? That's right, her side hustle "Lilia's Leggings"! The motif of sewing around Lilia is repeated throughout episode 2 - she has a sewing machine in her kitchen/bedroom and when she starts singing the ballad, there are big thread spools in her background. Could they be any more obvious?

Without Lilia, there would be no coven. She is the one who sends the list of names to her past self so that they can form their circle.

I am convinced she will do this as part of her trial. She will be doing a tarot reading and sending messages to the past events, trying to find the right time - just as she uncovers her tarot cards - and yes, that's including the broken line "Alice don't try to save Agatha".

If you want to know more about how I think those messages will be send, I have described the detail in this post.

The tarot cards that have been used so far give us insights into the story - not just because of their tarot meanings, but also because the images on those cards correspond exactly to the moments when Lilia said their names out loud.

These are the scenes as seen through Fate's eyes.

Three of Pentacles has the coven singing the Ballad. Three of Swords is the moment before Teen is healed - they are in the woods, on the purple Road and Lilia sees Agatha's heart being broken three-fold (because of Rio, Nicky and now Teen). High Priestess is exactly how Lilia first met Jen - with the rays coming out of the painting behind her. And finally, the Knight of Wands is standing in exactly the same stance as Alice was when she saved Agatha.

The rest of the cards, although not named in the show yet, will likely make appearance in her trial. Queen of Cups bears striking resemblance to young Lilia. Death is holding a dagger and a black heart, and is surrounded by flowers... And finally, there is the Tower card. Which is going to be about the her tarot (Air) trial.

You can read more about my predictions on how her episode 7 trial will go in this post.

But essentially, the members of the coven will be dressed up as the evil witches from the pop culture, while Lilia will be in white - like Glinda the Good Witch. So it looks like Lilia will need to confront those negative stereotypes yet again. She will also understand, that although she predicted tragedies in the past, she actually has the power to predict something good, even control it.

There will be swords sticking out of the ceiling and falling down to the floor - probably serving as a time reminder. You can see those swords in the poster above too. There is another poster - that resembling the cover of "The Crucible" - a play about the Salem witch trials. Again, we see the "thread" elements clearly here.

Unfortunately, we know that Salem Seven manage to get inside the trial too. I think once Lilia completes her task to finish the tarot reading and deliver the list to the past, she will then flip the sand timer - another reminder that she can, in fact, control time. Unfortunately, flipping the timer will also mean that the whole tower room they are in, will also flip upside down. We see Lilia and Salem Seven floating up. Sadly, I think that means that they will end up impaled on those swords? We can't see anyone else from the coven.

The Tower card seems to suggest people floating, but there is also a blue crown being toppled off the top. I wonder what that means for Billy.

That last shot breaks my heart!

But to finish on a different note, there is even more to Lilia Calderu.

You see, every tarot card has this little squiggle in the corner. Looks familiar?

I believe, after all this, that it is Lilia who puts the sigil on Teen - again, this maybe done in retrospect, when she sends her messages from the future. She knows that Teen's identity must be hidden or Agatha never becomes interested in what he has to say. And maybe others' decisions would change too if they knew. Maybe he needs protecting from the Salem Seven, because he is the son of the Scarlet Witch (that Salem witches call the Harbinger of Chaos and wanted to attack Wanda). Or even protection from Lady Death herself - because if she found out he was literally a ghost, reincarnated, she would want the body to restore the order?

So, in her true style, she literally SEWS the sigil onto Billy's mouth.

Lilia Calderu, what a legend. She is FATE.

[etirabys]

meandering post about reading Orson Scott Card again

I've been offline starting at 9pm every day (except once. I was drunk at karaoke and asked for anons at 8:30pm) for six weeks, with the result that in befuddled boredom two nights ago I picked up Orson Scott Card's Songmaster from the house bookshelf.

I read Ender's Game and three sequels when I was a teen thought the books were mid. Since those are OSC's best works I assumed he had nothing more interesting to offer me and didn't try more of him for fifteen years, but Songmaster was compelling enough that I immediately afterwards picked up The Memory of Earth, the first book of a pentalogy.

TMoE is extremely my jam: after humanity blows itself up on Earth, AIs monitor thriving human civilizations in the planets that survivors managed to escape to, and suppress any tech that enables large scale violence by exerting low key mind control via satellites. But forty million years pass, many of the satellites break down, and the AI needs help from humans to restore capabilities. Because as its control wanes, people are starting to e.g. conceive of airplanes or bombs again, and override the injunctions against entering military alliances more than two edges of connection away.

The AI is worshipped as a god all over the planet, but the fourteen year old protagonist that becomes one of the AI's agents tells the AI from the beginning that he'll break with it if its morality seems wrong to him. I like the fourteen year old – unlike Ender or Songmaster's protagonist (adult minds piloting ten year old bodies), he's a normal gifted kid who's unpopular 50% due to his ego and big mouth and 50% because he's socially inept and offends people even when he's trying to be nice.

Songmaster is also partly about a permanent solution to large-scale violence, albeit through one guy who establishes a monopoly on violence and sweeps in pax galactica. Both it and TMoE are preoccupied with the eradication of suffering from evil / human violence, which is closer to my resonant frequency than narratives about defeating particular people or ideologies. At the moment I can't think of any other book with such an insistent focus on the matter than T.H. White's The Once and Future King. It's hard to make a compelling story out of, and I don't think Songmaster really succeeds, but TMoE's premise is well suited to explore that. (I'm also enjoying the matriarchal culture where everyone is expected to have multiple serial-monogamous marriages.) After reading 70% of TMoE last night I wrote:

Usually when I read fiction there's a small part of me going, how can I use this as fodder for my own growth, how can I remix or improve or react against this, how do the author and I measure against each other? (If the quality and content are at an anti-sweet spot, the small part becomes quite large and I feel all teeth towards the author.) But on occasion I read something so close that the absence of that measuring-feeling is its own sensation – ego departs, or at least is split across two bodies. There's just amity and recognition

And it's pretty interesting to feel this way about Card for, well, the reasons.

(If you're familiar with Card drama none of the following will be new to you; I'm coming to it fresh so the rest of this post is me going "uh... wow")

I vaguely knew he was a homophobic Mormon who'd gotten into fights about gay stuff, but I couldn't tell from the Ender books I read. But in Songmaster his issues spring off the page in such a weird way. Every fifth Goodreads review of this book is "Card, u gay?" because, well,

(One review, possibly from a fellow Mormon, that went "Card, it's so sinful of you to be this gay in your novel". Why did he write this book that would predictably make everyone mad...)

it's full of gay male desire. The protagonist (Ansset) is approximately a castrato and characters notice him sexually a lot. The first and only time Ansset has sex it's with a Kinsey 4-5 male character he loves, who's married to a woman but has fallen in love with Ansset. It turns out the drugs Ansset took to prolong his singing career painfully and only-kinda-figuratively explode your balls when you have your first orgasm and you'll never feel sexual desire again. (You'd think his loving teachers would have warned him of that, but, whatever, they didn't.) The other guy is literally castrated in punishment for inadvertently torturing a highly valuable castrato. It's pretty bald: GAY SEX IS ALMOST IRRESISTIBLY TEMPTING BUT YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.

(Sidenote: both Ansset and the guy's wife are very close and have a "there's enough love to go around" attitude about the gay sex initially, before they go "wait Josif is a SERIAL MONOGAMIST... he can only love one person at a time... the moment he had the gay sex his marriage was destroyed". It's funny in a mildly stupid way that Card would set up this parable of homosexuality destroying lives and a marriage but almost everyone involved is peacefully ready to sail into an open marriage. I guess it makes sense if you want to say very clearly that THE GAY PART IS THE BAD PART)

which is fascinating to me, because... why would you tell on yourself like that

(81k also told me secondhand of an essay? interview? where Card openly says "we have to stand against legalizing gay marriage because everyone will get gay married and society will collapse", so that's informing my read of Songmaster as well)

I am pretty dang open about my personal life online but if I had a lot of feelings I thought were disgusting and immoral I would not write a novel dripping with those feelings before pointedly castrating the leads for them. Especially if it wasn't relevant to the actually highbrow themes of (checks notes) winning over your adversaries with kindness and never relinquishing your monopoly on violence. I would be so so so so embarrassed to let this go to print, it's so psychologically transparent, what was he thinking

(Well, I assume he's a very different person with different social incentives. For all I know, people in his church went "hey Orson we read your book and it's clear that you're gay but signaling strongly that you won't give into the gay feelings, we're here for you, it was really brave of you to publish this".)

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[harstyle]

The Beginning of Something New

Summary: You and Harry Styles could not be more diametrically opposed— so maybe that's the reason you've hated each other from the start. One conversation on a rooftop is all it takes for you to realize that you may have more in common than you've cared to admit.

Word-count: around 3.3k (she's short)

Warnings: they fight a lot lol, mentions of alcohol and drugs

A/N: Hi there! It's been a while. I wrote this short thing on vacation and felt like posting it. It doesn't really follow a time structure or anything, it's just random little snippets of their relationship to the big confessions at the end but I think it's cute, so I hope you enjoy! Both reader and Harry are in uni and Harry is the lead singer of a band that performs in clubs and pubs around the city. I’d say they’re around 20.

credits to the owner of this photo!

You can feel his eyes on you, daring.

You’re trying not to entertain it, to keep your eyes on Luke, to feign interest in his life. But it’s so difficult; it’s so difficult with him standing across the room, this weird hue in the air, this magnetic pull he has on you. And it doesn’t matter that you’re touching Luke’s arm or dragging a finger down his chest— all you care to think about is how hard you’re pushing Harry’s buttons.

And how fucking sweet victory tastes.

Well, aside from… you know, having to actually listen to Luke’s blabbering.

“The hotel’s great but the service is unbelievable. I had to wait fifteen minutes for a guy to bring me an extra towel once and I almost handed in a complaint—“

“Right. Luke, I’m going to get myself a new drink. Do you want anything? No? Wonderful.”

Your rough sigh speaks volumes, wasted air solidifying into something more important as you order at the bar. The bartender smiles at you, almost pitiful, and you writhe in disgust when you think about having to go back in a minute. You suppose it’s worth it to prove your point to Harry that you’re not as undesirable as he thinks, but maybe you should’ve done so with a guy who tells more interesting stories. Or at the very least knows not to speak with his mouth full

“Bored already, princess?”

It does irritate you when Harry sees right through you.

“Were you watching us? How cute.”

He rolls his eyes in your periphery. “You reek of disinterest, is all.”

“As a matter of fact, I’m very interested.”

“Very, you say.”

You lock eyes with him, “very.” Your bartender places the drink in front of you and you’re quick to take a sip. Harry snickers at your side. “What do you want, Harry?”

“Nothing. Are you sure you didn’t pay him to take you out?”

“Are you sure you have nothing else to do with your life? Because it sure is a little pathetic how invested you are in mine.”

“Aw come on, sweetheart,” he pinches your cheek and you recoil in an instant, shoving him back. Harry chuckles like he gets off on it. “Admit that you like the attention.”

“From you? I think I’d rather not.”

His smile never fades. “So this guy, very predictable.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”

“Just his look and everything. It makes sense you’d go out with him.” When you don’t reply, simply tilting your head in an even mix of curiosity and disdain, he elaborates. “All of the boys you date, they’re the same. Bet his Porsche’s insurance is under his daddy’s name.”

Your fixated glare could kill.

But he doesn’t mind— in fact, he loves it. He knows he’s struck a cord, that he’s right. “There’s no thrill in it. No excitement.”

“He’s everything you could never be, Harry.”

A beat of silence ensues, you take a sip of your drink.

You probably shouldn’t elaborate, but you do. You find yourself wanting to. “He’s kind, and he cares about me. He opens doors and he holds my hand when we’re walking down the street. So yeah, maybe he doesn’t get drunk tattoos or share a joint with me at three in the morning, but he’s a gentleman. And that’s something you could never understand.”

You don’t even wait for him to interject, because at this point it isn’t fun anymore. It’s true; Harry is exciting, he’s a breath of fresh air. He keeps the chase going— but he doesn’t fucking care enough. So it doesn’t matter how often you’ve caught yourself hoping for him to change and see how good you could be if you didn’t hate each other, he will never be an option for you. He likes the game, teetering on the edge of something more certain and then letting go.

Everything happens at night. By morning time, he couldn’t give less of a shit. You’re not good enough for him. Not exciting enough, not spontaneous enough.

And even though you’re sure you hear him calling your name, you don’t turn back for him. You’re already walking to Luke’s table, and finding yourself happy to do so.

“Everything okay?” He asks when catching wind of your tight expression.

“Yeah. Let’s finish this drink and get the hell out of here.”

—

His eyes are much greener at night, and you hate it.

You hate the rasp in his voice and how smooth it sounds in spite of it. You hate how his eyes close when he’s entranced in the music, when he feels his guitar riff flowing like blood through his veins. And mostly you hate how weak you are, how little convincing it took for you to be here tonight.

By the end of his set, you’re three martinis in and Jessica is poking you in the shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Im fucking great, Jess.”

You don’t see why your friends are always walking on eggshells when the topic of Harry comes up. You and Harry can’t stand each other, that’s it.

And yet every time they act like you’ll break into tears when you see him.

Mitch and Harry return to the table in your periphery and you try your best to ignore their presence. Sometimes you feel bad that Mitch seems to be at the receiving end of your cold attitude so often because he’s genuinely a cool guy, but he’s also Harry’s bandmate. It’s aversion by association.

“Great set, guys!”

Jessica and Mitch aren’t officially dating, but they’re fucking. Hanging out. Hence the reason for your frequent visits to this club and to their gigs; she forces you to come and you can never say no to her.

Mitch slings an arm around Jess’ shoulders, kind enough to acknowledge you with a welcoming smile. They’re perfect for each other and you can’t help but let a grin tug at your lips when you see yet again how happy he makes her.

You wish you could have that.

The couple leaves to get drinks, leaving you and Harry alone.

“Didn’t bring your boyfriend?”

Your eyes roll. It’s involuntary at this point how often you do it. “Can you get off of my dick?”

“If you hop on mine.”

Disgust molds your features, “you’re fucking gross.”

He laughs. You don’t find him funny at all.

His grin dims. “Trouble in paradise then?”

“No trouble. He’s just not here.”

You’re lying; you haven’t called Luke in weeks and he hasn’t reached out either. You don’t think that’s going to change.

“So you’re still dating him.”

“Yeah. Does that bother you?”

You watch as his jaw constricts and clenches. Then he shakes his head, surprising you with the silence it’s accompanied by.

And for some reason, it causes a twist in your stomach. A guilty twist, like it’s somehow your fault the air has turned uncomfortable.

It takes you seconds to realize that for the first time since you’ve gotten to know him, he’s failed to deliver a snarky remark or a hurtful comment; anything resembling a testament to the hatred the two of you feel for one another.

It’s like he has something he wants to say, something on the tip of his tongue, but he’s a coward when it comes to relationships and vulnerability, so he can’t bring himself to do it. And you have enough self-respect to not pry it out of him.

“I have a thing in an hour so I’ll get going. Do you need a ride home?”

For some reason, his offer doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You and Harry can hate each other all you want, but at the end of the day he’ll still care enough to make sure you don’t get harassed on the way home. Somewhat comforting, but only somewhat.

You also know exactly what his thing is, and thinking about it makes you nauseous.

Your first instinct is to say no, but then you pause. Your eyes wander to Jess and Mitch kissing by the bathrooms and you find yourself unable to resist the offer of a ride, as much as you’d hate having to sit in a car with him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Harry’s only confirmation is a subtle nod. He probably hates the idea just as much as you do, but having a death or an injury on one’s conscience can’t feel better than having to endure this.

Most of the ride goes swimmingly, but that’s owed to the silence.

And then you get sick of it, and it all goes downhill.

“You’re the most confusing guy I’ve ever met, you know that?”

His jaw clenches again.

But you don’t stop, probably because the alcohol is finally taking its effect. “You’re mean and as emotionally unavailable as a fucking tree.”

In any other setting he’d probably smile at the comparison, but he’s not in the mood today. He says your name and it resembles a warning.

“I just don’t— I don’t fucking get it. Because you’re nice to everyone else and every one of our friends loves you. But with me you have a problem, with everything I do. I can never do anything right, I’m never right—“

“Do you realize that maybe it’s just you? That you never shut up, that you’re so fucking irritating. You walk around like you’re god-chosen, pretending to know everything better than anyone else. You’re so— it’s so fucking irritating.”

Silence.

He shouldn’t have said anything— least of all anything he didn’t think through beforehand.

But it isn’t his words that terrify you; it’s how he says them. He’s so… genuine. It’s not some halfhearted comment delivered out of spite. No, it’s real, something you can tell he’s kept concealed for a long time out of… what, something he considers kindness?

But you don’t want to self-reflect. You don’t want to open up a can of worms. Instead, your hatred for Harry only flares up. It eats you up and leaves your body in strong waves.

“Pull over.”

You can tell Harry regrets his outburst when he sighs, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Princess—“

“Pull over, Harry. I want to walk.”

“It’s dangerous out—“

You don’t care anymore, though, his pleas becoming background noise as you’re opening the door and getting ready to step out mid drive. Harry finally gives. He’s not worried about the damage you might’ve caused to his door, he’s worried about your state. How angry you seem and how much alcohol is in your system.

You slam the door shut, hug your blazer closer to your body and start walking.

Guilt spreads in Harry’s chest as he watches you walk away from him. He messed up.

He’s sure there’ll be a special place in hell waiting for him when he sees your shoulders tremble. You’re crying. And it’s all his doing.

His forehead hits the steering wheel.

Fuck this.

—

You’ve always loved watching the stars on your own. You suppose it’s how stuffy the room was that makes this particular viewing significantly more enjoyable, though, the air clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel protected. The rooftop is secluded, offering a view of the city in its twinkling lights. For a minute, you forget that you’re depressed. You forget that you haven’t spoken to Harry in two months and that it’s left a gaping wanting hole in your chest.

The beer in your hand isn’t cold anymore, your phone has died and your heels are long discarded on the floor somewhere. Your arms are resting on the railing.

You’re a reasonably social person, but the idea of talking to a human being right now makes you want to vomit. And you feel bad, truly bad, because it’s Nina’s birthday. Because you’re having a party in the art gallery she opened earlier this year, because you should be down there celebrating her achievements like all of your friends are doing— and you feel so incredibly selfish for not feeling up to the task. For feeling like you want to fucking cry just because Harry’s here too, and you weren’t expecting him to be.  

You hear your name being called. You know exactly who it is; you would probably know by the pattern of his breathing, really, and that realization makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come back up.

“Everyone’s worried about you. You just disappeared.”

Your frown deepens. You can’t look at him right now.  “Are they?”

He sounds impatient and you don’t blame him. “Yes. Can you come in?”

You sniffle, “in a minute.”

“Princess—“

“I said in a minute, okay? Just— give me a minute.”

He allows you silence for another minute. Two, actually, before walking closer. You can’t see him, but his presence is loud enough for you to know.  

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head, “no.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

“No.” You breathe in deep, readying yourself for something you’ll probably regret later. But the sudden rush of courage is overwhelming, so you’ll take your chances. “I, uh… I’m always terrified of being exposed to hurt. And so I think, as a defense mechanism, I close up around people. At least the ones who show signs of disliking me.” His silence allows you to go on. “And I always got the impression that you hated me. I never knew what I had done, but I knew you didn’t like me, and that sent me into a fucking spiral because I hate when that happens.” You interrupt yourself in a chuckle, watching as lights flicker off in the distance. “And so maybe subconsciously, in the beginning, I made it a mission of mine to make you like me, you know? Which is why I used to try to talk, to keep conversation going, never shut my mouth. And when I realized that wasn’t working, I needed to shut myself off.  Keep you as far away as possible because I knew you would hurt me one way or another.” One last deep breath helps you bask in this feeling of relief. For once in your life, you’re being honest.

“And so I know that I can be overbearingly rude, that I get on your nerves, but it’s because…” you can’t bring yourself to say the complete truth, so you modify it a little, “it’s because if you knew the real me, the version that everyone else knows, then you would know how to hurt me. And I didn’t want that to happen.”

His breathing changes, you hear it. You almost can’t believe you would open up like you did, but somewhere deep down you’re also proud of yourself.

“And I’ve realized now that… that somewhere along the way I got swept up in the illusion of it. The nights we spent together getting tattoos and drinking until morning, I took them for something they weren’t because I wanted it all to be real. I wanted for us to be real, I guess, for us to stop hating each other so much. I held onto the hope, but you would never communicate the same to me. And that scared me because I felt like I wasn’t enough for you. But instead of accepting it, I got meaner and more defensive because I felt played.”

“And I know it’s so… it’s so fucking weird for me to say this to you now like it’s some kind of confession, but… I just can’t shut up, so.”

You find it comical how it all flows out of you like water. How easy it seems now and how much of a big deal you used to make it.

“I never hated you.“ He says after a beat of quiet.

“You didn’t?” You ask as you turn around, pressing your back to the railing. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his washed out jeans and walks closer. He stops next to you, his arms resting on the railing. It’s his turn to watch the lights.

“No,” he shakes his head, taking a deep breath to brace himself. “I… when I saw you for the first time, I felt drawn. I thought you were sweet and funny, and you definitely had me wrapped around your fucking finger by the second time we met. It terrified me, how someone like you could have that effect on me.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone so caring and deserving of something more than I could offer her. What you said at the bar that night, it was true. It was all true. Because I never had to be a gentleman before, you know? I don’t exactly date. You know that.” You do. “And I knew that you could worm your way in and completely change my life if only you wanted to. You could hurt me a million times over and I would forgive you every time.”

You can feel his eyes on you, studying the curve of your nose like it’s something he wants to memorize. “I was insecure. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I chose to scare you off. But it was real, all of it; the nights we spent together, everything in between. I pretended like it wasn’t, but deep down I knew it would come to kick me in the ass.” You laugh at his choice of words; he smiles in return. “Because you’re… you’re perfect for me, you know? And letting myself be happy was too much to ask, so I resorted to being an arse. I figured if I could control how you felt about me, I could control how I felt about you.”

You always thought you and Harry were complete opposites... you’re talkative, Harry’s quiet. You’re warm, Harry’s cold. You can’t take it when people don’t like you, and Harry couldn’t give less of a shit.

But now you know that it isn’t the complete truth. Beneath that superficial layer you know so well, there are similar fears. At it’s base, you’re both scared of hurt. You’re scared of exploring unknown territory and risking everything in the name of something that could leave you heartbroken. It could all be for nothing.

And yet, could it not still be worth it?

“We’re both stupid.”

Harry chuckles, and you’re convinced it’s the most beautiful sound anyone could make.

He taps his fingers against the metal railing, nodding. “That we are.”

For the first time in a long time, the silence you share is comfortable. It isn’t courtesy of having too much to say and yet saying nothing, instead it’s courtesy of having said everything and agreeing it’s enough. For now, at least.

You smile to yourself.

The door opens, revealing a timid Jess.

“Hey guys, we’re about to cut into the cake.”

“We’re coming,” you say, sharing a short look with Harry. The two of you walk down the stairs, Harry behind you and Jess in front.

Nina embraces you, ushering both you and Harry closer. If she noticed you were gone, she doesn’t mention it and you’re thankful for that. Tonight, you just want to be a good friend.

And although you have more to say, you’re not worried. Because it’ll all be fine— you’ll be fine.

Nina blows out her candles, everyone erupts into cheers. You grin, sharing a look with Harry over the rim of your bottle. It’s longer this time, something worth holding onto. His eyes are daring, they’re sure, and most of all, they’re welcoming.

It’s a guarantee of trust, a confirmation of the beginning of a new chapter. And although you’re eager to explore it, you have no doubt in your mind that the story won’t come to an end for a while.

[formosusiniquis]

any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

.

.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Silly idea me and my friend had with sagau, sahsrau and possibly sawuwaau(??)

But like, what if, due to your consciousness essentially merging/being connected to the MC more, sometimes stuff gets a lil funky and you start seeing things you shouldn't

Like yk, ghosts 😇🙏

I recommend strapping in because these are gonna be three flash fictions into one + having lots of talking lol

(more utc‼️)

For example, in a fic style:

"Hey, are you gonna eat your food, Traveler?" Paimon asked, looking worriedly at the distracted visage of her friend. "Something on your mind? You can always tell Paimon what's on your mind!"

They shook their head, eyes looking at the person who stared at them and their companion. Eyes unblinking, appearance overall disheveled and aged.

"That guy's been staring at us the whole time we've been eating," they replied, eyes switching over to Paimon in a barely contained distressed fashion. "It's almost worrying me."

"What guy?"

Paimon silently asked again, "What?" when her friend looked at her so incredulously.

"You don't see him?" they asked again, now worried beyond belief. The last time Paimon saw them like this was when they fought Arlecchino.

"Traveler, I think that's a ghost we're both seeing," the voice inside his mind pointed out, trying to calm their mental state. Right, they forgot the Creator was a part of their mind now.

And as the voice just predicted, one blink and that figure was gone, the Traveler seeing its shadow scurry into a corner of the restaurant.

The door chime rang out and in a cyan and a blue haired boy entered the restaurant, another blue haired girl following right after. Right, Chongyun, Xingqiu and Xiangling.

The ghost must've scurried off when it sensed Chongyun nearby. Well, at least that put an end to their distress.

——————

LIKE THE AMOUNT OF DISTRESS WHEN THE MCS SEE A GHOST FOR THE FIRST TIME

it'd be so chaotic, especially hsr's mcs bc good god they're already so adhd coded

You could think of them going through it like:

"Woah woah, what's got you all terrified, Trailblazer?" March 7th asked, a worried Dan Heng embracing them when they accidentally bumped into him trying to run away from something.

The Astral Express were quickly informed by them personally that they've been seeing ghosts and all sorts of spiritual apparitions that don't normally appear physically like heliobi, but seemingly living people that were doing normal things or otherwise.

It all started around the time they also figured out that the Creation's consciousness had somehow taken an interest in the Trailblazer, latching onto their body and making the Stellaron inside them a bit restless, unstable.

"It's... I saw Cocolia at the Administrative District," they said, panting from exhaustion. The story sounded so unreal, with how impossible it sounded, but with how broad the Creation works nothing was truly impossible.

"She was looking at Bronya shopping and talking to the people, always un-staring." March patted their back in assurance, joining Dan Heng in sitting them down onto the red couches in the Parlour Car.

"When I came closer to see if she was real, she whipped her head around so fast with the scariest look on her face!—"

"It's okay, Caelus Stelle Trailblazer, she can't reach you here," the choir of voices erupted in their mind, the chirping of birds and clinking machinery in their tone momentarily calming them down by a substantial amount.

"Well, it's a good thing ghosts can't get into the Express because that means she can't hurt you here!" March exclaimed, Dan Heng having to resist rolling his eyes at the obvious but letting her reassure them nonetheless. Dumb, dumber and dumbest— the trio wouldn't be complete with one of them missing.

Then, the cabin's speakers erupted in an all too familiar voice. "Attention, all Astral Express crew members! Dinner is ready, so please hurry over to the kitchen cabin and join me and Welt to eat here!" The Astral Express's Conductor excitedly exclaimed over the mic, never failing to make the three smile from their infectious enthusiasm.

"Well, we were supposed to find you and Himeko for dinner but it looks like Pom Pom beat us to it again," March said, jumping up from her seat with her hands on her hips.

"Last one to reach the kitchen cabin is a rotten egg!"

"Hey, no fair, you got a head start!"

Dan Heng sighed at the two's shenanigans yet again, slowly getting up from his own seat as the two raced over to the cabin. That Aeon truly knew how to control and manipulate the emotions of a being to THEIR liking, and he even felt it wash over him earlier.

He'll need to observe it more before adding another entry into THEIR dedicated part of the Archives.

———————

This one was a little confusing to make into a scenario but it's what my eepy mind came up with on the spot :p

Now for our dearest Rover, it's a bit difficult to make it make sense, yk? Mostly because Tacet Discords shapeshifting into people is canon (if people actually paid attention to the lore), much less actually fitting the lore of this seemingly interplanetary eldritch being into the world of Wuthering Waves in the first place lmao

Maybe we could be the galaxy eye we see in the first cutscene, as well as the one when Abby (the lil echo that appeared after the Dreamless fight) and Rover being together

But this is all me yapping about a whole other subject— related, but not the one we're diving into right now

Getting back into the subject though, this is how i think it'd go:

It was another bright, sunny day at Panhua's Restaurant, the scent of delicious food wafting through the air as always. Rover, Yangyang, Chixia and Jiyan all sat around a table, with Abby floating around all plump and full.

"Say, Rover, didn't you say you had something to say for us today?" Chixia inquired, stacking and overall making the empty dishes look cleaner and neater.

"Yeah, just a strange sighting I saw near Desorock Highlands," they replied, putting a deft hand on their chin as if to think back on the memory.

"Me, Jiyan and The Black Sun were conversing like usual when we came across groups of people near the Tacet Field where the Thundering Memphis usually dwelled," Rover recounted, unconsciously pulling the leash that was attached to Abby's collar closer. "Some were laughing with eachother, acting as if most groups weren't crying out in agony."

"Aren't those just Tacet Discords that have absorbed lots of human frequencies?"

"No, there was something more... alive to them, besides the fact that the General himself couldn't see them," they replied to Yangyang, letting the leash go as Abby went back in their Tacet Mark with one last burp.

"Even when I went closer to them, they didn't attack me, more or less ignoring me entirely."

"Wait, who's this 'The Black Sun' you're talking about Rover? Is there another echo inside of you?" Chixia jumped up to ask, startling both Jiyan and Rover.

"The Black Sun is what you may have seen when you first found Rover and ventured back to Jinzhou, just as I did so as well," the General explained, waving over to Rover's direction in an attempt to explain this name to both ladies. Yangyang nodded and Chixia let out an "Oh," in understanding.

"I will admit, seeing them not react to us at all looked a lil' unnerving," the voice inside their mind stated in a breathy voice, unclear like a cloud of smoke.

Though the voice had no body and claimed that they weren't an echo like Abby, only really being able to be heard clearly when they're dreaming, it often provided support whenever it could— unlike a certain someone.

"I've already sent the proper human resources over to investigate the matter, the only thing left to do is to wait for results," Jiyan said, already standing up when he saw the bill arriving.

The three simply nodded in thanks to the General, knowing full well he'd insist on it till his last breath. And when he came back to the table the subject had already changed into another, more or less silly one.

Well, at least everyone was enjoying themselves.

———————

I didn't have much for the last part like i said, and it's more filled with dialogue, but it's better than nothing

Please do tell me if I missed anything or said something totally wrong!!

Now, is this an excuse to push my sahsrau fic more? ... mmmmaayyybbeee 😇

[codfanficedits]

Cheating Ghost, full version.

I've always posted this in the parts as I wrote them, this is the full story. This story came to mind after I've suffered childhood abuse, and now my brother is following in the footsteps of my father.

Also, happy birthday to me.

CW: Domestic Violence, mentions of sex/describing sexual acts, mentions of rape.

18+ MDNI.

Ghost POV:

My hands on her hips, my lips leaving hickeys on her neck, my hard cock against her stomach. It all felt so right. Expect she wasn’t you. She was better than you, sexier, hotter, willing to try all the positions you wouldn’t do. She looked at me with the most hypnotizing eyes when I called her a good girl, those same eyes sparked when I called her my filthy slut. She was everything you couldn’t be for me. The first few times I felt incredibly guilty, I would spent minutes watching over you when you slept, cursing myself for being so weak, but as time passed, my heart stopped aching. Instead your flaws were showing even more. I knew you too well for you to be ever exciting again, I knew the way your lips tasted, the way your body felt on mine, I could predict your every move.

It took me 2 extra days to come home to you again. I had been dreading the moment, waiting until the very last moment to come home. Her smell still wrapped around my body as I set foot into our bedroom.

YOUR POV:

You and Ghost have been together for three years. You moved across the country for him, 10 days after you met him. You had been at his side ever since. You were there after the good missions, the bad missions and the failed mission. You were there to kiss his bruises, to hold him while he cried about a fallen teammate, you were there to celebrate every success he had in his career.

But lately things had changed. His mission taking longer than you were used to, him being more distant, no longer sharing the details of a mission with you. The first few weeks you tried to ignored it, thought it was because of a bad mission, but after a while you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something was going on. Ghost was away on a mission when you received a text from one of his teammates, telling you he had seen Ghost leave with another woman. It left your heart shattered. You wouldn’t believe it at first, Ghost would never do this to you. But you knew it would fit, it was the missing piece of information to tie all of his odd behaviour together. You tried to ignore it at first, until the place you used to call home, was no longer appealing to return to. You could hear him set foot into the bedroom. You waited, pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t have to face him. He just stood there, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Hey..” You said, making your voice sound hoarse. “How long have you been standing there?” You ask him.

“I was just admiring the view.” He answered. The fucking liar. You kick back the blankets and pat on the bed. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

He starts to undress, and you pretend you don’t see the hickeys on his happy trail. Looking at it makes me feel sick. He slides in to bed with me, and you can feel the distance. “How was the mission?” You ask, your fingertips caressing his jawline, like you always do. “Oh you know, same old, same old.” He tells you. You can smell her on him, her perfume smells floral and expensive. He didn’t even have the respect for you to at least take a shower before coming home to you. You roll over to your other side, “let’s go to sleep, you must be tired, baby.” You say.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your neck. Her perfume invading your bed, his erection pressed against you. “How about we have some fun first, hm?”

 You don’t know what makes you feel sicker. “I’m really tired, sorry.” You say, being too disgusted to even feel horny.

“Fine.” His voice got cold and he rolled away from you, refusing to touch you. Fine.

Your mind was racing, trying to make up a good excuse for him, it was trying to diffuse the situation. Surely there must be a logical explanation? He had fallen asleep next to you, you were wondering how he even could sleep at night. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he.. Maybe he.. But your mind couldn’t come up with a good reason, it was way to easy to connect the dots. But you needed to know for sure.

You saw the screen of his phone light up. Bingo.

Careful to not wake him, you got up from bed, slowly taking his phone from the nightstand, trying to not make a sound. You snuck his phone into the bathroom, you tried to unlock it, his passcode was your birthday for ages. Access denied. You frown, maybe you made a mistake typing it. You try again, this time even more careful. Access denied.        

Fuck.

You decided to type his own birthday, maybe he just happened to change it? It worked. As you scrolled through the messages you couldn’t really find anything. Soap sending him some memes. Captain Price reacting with two thumbs on everything Ghost send him. Gaz sending him pictures of food. Even their group chat was innocent.

You scrolled through everything. Until you found a hidden folder with pictures. Your eyes widened by the view. The pictures started looking innocent. Just some nudes, nothing too special. You could live with this.

Then they became more graphic. She was sitting on her knees, her tongue stuck out, semen on her face. You guess whose it was. You swiped again. It was her again, lying on a bed, looking at the camera with her hungry eyes.

A video. Against your better judgement you click on it. Your heart drops when you do so. He was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was on all fours, her face down, her ass up. You could tell by his pace that he was about to cum.

She helped it put it in again when it slipped out of her. It made you sick to your stomach. Yet you can’t stop watching. You’re torturing yourself. You can see his thick semen being shot on her back. You could imagine him grunting while he did so. You watch it again, pressing the volume button once. The sounds made you sick to your stomach, but your eyes were glued to the screen. The grunting was as you imagined, they were dancing with her moans. His voice cracked when he called her beautiful and you could feel your heart shatter.

A large hand slaps the phone out of your hand. “Do you always snoop through phones that aren’t yours?” A deep voice growled.

“Simon, what the fuck is this?” You ask. “What the FUCK is this?’ You yell at him.

“Oh come on, it’s nothing big.” He answered. “I’ve always been there for you!” You start to raise your voice again. “With every mission, good or bad. I have ALWAYS been by your side.”

His hand grabs your wrist. “Are you going to fucking behave?” He hisses in your ear. “Quit being a fucking drama queen.”

“Why? How could you?” Your voice sound defeated. He laughs at you. “Oh come on. You became boring. I can tell how you react at everything. It’s no longer exciting or new anymore.” He scoffs. He takes a step towards you. “Did you really think I loved you? Jezus Christ, you’re so fucking naïve.”

His words cut through you like knifes. Part of you wanted to change for him, be a more exciting person, anything so he wouldn’t leave you. But you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no coming back from this.

“I need you to get the fuck out of here.” You hissed. “Go sleep at Price or something.”

It was his laugh that sent the shivers down your spine. “I have to get out of here? Do I need to remind you this is my house? Take the few fucking things you own and get out before I kick you out.”

With tears in your eyes you grabbed your bag. You stuffed it with some clothes, your phone, your laptop and your wallet. He is right behind you when you walked out. Not saying a word to you. When you turned around to beg him to let you stay, his cold eyes told you enough. He slammed the door in your face. Leaving you all alone.

Ghost POV:

Of course I didn’t want it to end like this. She was always the safe option, but at least something was better than nothing.

I grab my phone, calling the girl I had been fucking for the past few months. A frustrated grunt leaves my throat when she doesn’t pick up. So I call again, and again until she finally picks up.

“What the fuck do you want?” She hisses at me. “It’s fucking 4 in the morning.” I let out an amused chuckle. I loved it when she was so feisty. “My girlfriend is gone for the night, and I don’t expect her home until noon. Care to come around?” I asked her. It’s quiet at the other side of the line and it is making me feel rejected. I hate that fucking feeling. “Well?” I ask, trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.

“You have a girlfriend?” The woman on the other side hissed. “You’re such a fucking pathetic man.”

I was taken aback by her reaction, where did she get the nerve to trat me like this? After all, she was nothing more than my toy. A toy I used to pass the time, but she didn’t let me answer her, her angry rant going on. “You’re a horrible, horrible man, if I had known you had a girl waiting for you, I would’ve never let you touch me.” She continued. “Lose the number, you fucking asshole.”

She hung up on me. The fucking bitch had the audacity to hang up on me? I scoffed. I didn’t need a stupid fucking toy anyway. I had you to come back to. After all, you always came back to me, no matter how much I fucked up.

I sat down on the couch, my fingers lingering over the screen of my phone. Fuck it.

“When are you coming home?” I texted you.

5 minutes. Five whole minutes had passed and you still didn’t text me back. Usually you’d text me back within seconds, like a fucking needy dog.

“Listen, I’m sorry you feel this way. I can change. I promise” I texted you again.

8 minutes. It had been eight minutes since my first text, and you didn’t hadn’t sent me anything back. It caused me to pace around my living room like a caged animal.

“Please come home, I miss you.” I texted, once more. It started to irritate me that you didn’t answer, but I couldn’t let you know.

14 minutes. The anger was getting to me. What the fuck were you doing? It was 4:28AM. You couldn’t possibly be doing something useful.

“Get your fucking ass home.”

???? POV:

He had known Ghost was a cheater, but he always tried to ignore it. Until he met you. God, you were gorgeous. It pained him that you only had eyes for Ghost. He fell in love with you the first time he met you. The way you walked, talked, your smile. Your beauty was out of this world.

But of course you were in love with Ghost. Ghost was everything he wasn’t. Mysterious, handsome, tall, confident, a deep, hoarse voice. So he hid in the shadows. He wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

But the guilt began to eat at him when Ghost started cheating on you, bringing some blondie back to the base after a mission. Her loud moans filling the empty halls. He couldn’t ignore it anymore after Ghost had brought back the second girl, but he was to afraid to tell you. It took him two more years to finally find the courage to tell you. He couldn’t even do it face to face. No, he texted you, like a coward.

But he had finally told you and that is what mattered.

He started to hate Ghost for this. The idiot had the most precious woman in the world and he tossed it out of the window for a little thrill.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw your text. You’d gone through his phone, and now he had kicked you out?

Damn.

A feeling of guilt washed over him, if he hadn’t told you, you’d be safe and sound in your bed, not wandering the streets at 4 in the morning.

He texted you his address, offering you a place to come to if you were lonely.

Your POV:

You felt alone. So god damn alone. You’d left everything, everyone behind to move in with Simon.

There was nothing you wanted more than to get back to Simon, to feels his strong arms around you again, but you weren’t stupid. You knew those arms would never feel like home again. You knew you’d never trust him again. The common sense in your body told you, you were worth too much to worry about him, but the love you felt for him tried to prove your common sense wrong, still. You could change for him, right? You could try to be less boring, to be less predictable.

A nearby bench in the park became your new place to stay, just so you could gather your thoughts. The bag you’d been carrying with you got dropped on the ground. A big sigh followed. How does one even go from here? Back to Simon was not an option, you refused to be his second choice.

Your phone buzzed. It was Simon, asking you when you would come home. Your heart skipped a beat. He still cared about you. Of course he did, otherwise he wouldn’t be texting you! You’re trying to convince yourself, but it’s not working. Something is different. For once, your love ending didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

You fidget with your phone, ignoring the messages that come rolling in. You pressed the phone against your lips, your mind working overtime. What was it that you wanted?

After what seemed like forever you make a decision. You don’t want to be alone, not right now, so you decide to text him. Not Simon, no, he wasn’t worthy of your presence. You text the person who tipped you, after all, he had always told you he would be there for you if you needed him. It takes every ounce of your selfcontrol to not text him the whole story, so you give him a short update. 3,5 minutes. That’s how long it took for him to answer you. It’s just his address, and you take it as an invite that you’re welcome. As you open the navigation on your phone, it shows you that it is just a ten minute walk. Perfect for you to clear your head, so you wouldn’t be all in your feelings when you got to him.

It's 5:25 AM and the sun is starting to rise again. For a moment the world doesn’t seem so bad after all.

Your hands shake as you ring the doorbell. The door swings open almost immediately.

Johnny.

Ghost POV:

I was starting to lose it. You’d come online, but you didn’t read my texts? How dare you? Where the fuck do you think you have the audacity from to ignore me?

I texted you again.

“At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

An uneasy feeling starts to linger in my stomach, causing me to pace around the living room. What if you really did decide to leave this time? No, you wouldn’t. I was sure of that. But then why didn’t you answer me?

No it shouldn’t bother me this much. I can just go to the bar and pick up a better version of you, a prettier one, a more adventurous one. Then you did the thought of you leaving me sting so much?

I lose my temper, and an empty teacup flings across the room, against the wall. The brown liquid dripping down.

A few deep breaths and I should be okay again. Wrong.

The uneasy feeling in my chest stays and there is nothing that I can do against it. Why would you do this to me? Why did you have to make things so hard? Why couldn’t you just come home when I asked you to?

God, you’re being a pain in my ass right now. Making such a fuss, and for what? Because I had a little fun? That was your fault really, you had always been a little boring, why couldn’t you just be a little spicier in life.

And now your behaviour is making me feel bad? I don’t think so. I sent you a final text.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Soap POV:

He was waiting in the living room for her, nearly falling over his own feet as he made his way to the front door. The sight of you standing there, with your broken heart is the hardest thing he had to watch.

‘Even in her agony, God is jealous of her beauty.’ Soap pushed that thought away, he wasn’t here to hit on you, he was here to be the friend you needed. He stepped aside to let you in. “It’s not much, but it’s safe.” He said, gesturing around his living room. It was clear a single man lived here, the pizza box from last night still on the table, his dirty socks and shoes next to the couch. A sheepish smile on his face, hoping that you wouldn’t judge him too much.

He was mesmerized by your eyes, but he could see the sadness, the hurt in them, and it made his heart ache.

He signalled for you to sit on the couch, handing you a beer, his own in his hand, as he took place in his recliner, wanting to keep a distance. There was a silence between the two of you, but to him it didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt like coming safe home after a long, stressful day.

He glanced over at you. You looked so fragile on his couch, a large pillow being used as a shield, as your gaze met his. A nervous smile.

Your phone buzzed, and he could see it was from Ghost, his eyes narrowing as he read the text. “At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

But you were strong and you didn’t pay any mind to his text, you tossed the phone next to you and met his gaze once more.

Then the words started to pour out, and you told him everything. How you couldn’t believe it at first, how you finally started to connect the dots. How Ghost dared to come home smelling like another woman, the video you had watched. He took an occasional sip from his beer every now and then.

With every full sentence he could see your mind working overtime, telling you to not go back to that relationship anymore. It made his heart beat faster in his chest.

As if it’s natural the conversation shifts to a lighter one, as if you want to leave Ghost and the darkness that he brings with him in the past, and Soap was happy to oblige.

You tell him about your job, your hobbies, your favourite crystals and he takes in all the information as if it is the most important thing he has ever heard.

Your phone buzzed again and the both of you look at it at the same time.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Those words made Soap’s stomach drop, he had always known that Ghost had a temper, a bad one, but even this felt low for Ghost. He looked over at you, expecting to see fear in your face, but instead you just laughed. As if you were freed from the chackles Ghost had put on you.

“Shit.” Your voice sounded like giggle. “I should really put him in his place for speaking to me in this tone.”

‘God, her laugh could light up a room without trying.’

No stop, he shouldn’t think like that.

Maybe it was the beer talking, maybe it was the lack of common sense from the whole situation, but he had an idea. An idea that would put Ghost in his place.

“Come with me.” Soap told you, as he made him way to his bedroom. It was surprisingly tidy compared to his living room. Sure, the bed wasn’t made, and his backpack was casually tossed into the corner, and now that he looked around, his nightstand were a mess too. But the dirty socks were limited to the bathroom only and that was something.

“I need you to trust me, I’m not a pervert, I promise.” Soap was rambling, a treat he had when he got nervous. He swallowed some air before he started explaining. “I need you to get on my bed on all fours, I promise I won’t look okay.” The rambling continued.

You didn’t even question it, you just did what he asked you to do. He took a step closer to your ass, his breathing getting hard to control. “Look at the wall.” He muttered. The shadow being rather, suggestive.

‘Life was an artist and you were the fucking masterpiece.’

He couldn’t help but look down at you, the sight of you presenting yourself like this, God it got him hard, the blood going straight to his growing erection. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, he had to contain himself.

You handed him your phone, allowing him to take a picture. If he didn’t know any better the shadow suggested he was actually fucking you. The thought of how tight you would be, how good you would take it, it was flooding his mind. Shit shit shit. He needed to stop.

He handed you your phone back, stepping aside, it would drive him insane if he kept looking at your ass.

Soap looked over your shoulder as you sent Ghost the picture. A grin on your face when you started to type.

‘Sorry, I was busy.’

Ghost POV:

It has been more than a fucking hour since I’ve sent my last text, and yet you lack the fucking respect to answer me. You’re a fucking worthless waste of air.

I look over at the table when my phone buzzed. “Sorry, I was busy?” I repeat your text to myself. My fingers are quick to open the picture you sent me.

My phone buzzed. A text from you.

No, no, no, no, NO.

I could feel my stomach drop from that picture. You’re a fucking disgusting slut and you know it. How the fuck dare you? After all we’ve been together you’re throwing us away like this? How fucking dare you?

My anger gets the best of me. I want you to be hurt. I want to take away the things you like. I want to see you cry, beg me for the mercy you don’t deserve.

In a blind rage I pull out the cutlery drawer in the kitchen, I was looking for some scissors but couldn’t find them, so I took our kitchen knife. The fucking stuffed animal I had won for you at the fair was the first to go. God it felt so good to take my anger out on something. Besides, who the fuck has a stuffed unicorn?

The rest of your clothes became my second target, a maniacal laugh leaving my throat as I could hear the fabric rip under the force of my knife. Shit it felt good, too good even. For a second I would imagine you there instead of your clothes and the rage would leave my body, but it’s temporary, I want to destroy you.

If I can’t have you, no one should have you.

My hands tremble when I look at the picture again. My eyes widen when I recognize the room, I recognize his fucking backpack, the idiotic sunglasses on his fucking nightstand.

God fucking damn.

My best fucking friend. The fucking son of a bitch.

Where the fuck did the two of you get the fucking nerve to betray me like this?

Granted, Soap had been more distance towards me since I’ve started to cheat on you, but he never had a problem with it during my last relationship. This must’ve been his idea. Letting you catch me cheating, so I’m the bad guy, while you’re getting your pussy pounded by that fucking traitor.

I’m angry, furious even. Part of me wants to take the knife and stab the both of you, watching as the life leaves your eyes. I can feel the rage boil inside of me.

A sudden wave of relief washes over me. I know what I have to do.

I leave the knife in our matrass, I don’t even grab my jacket. I know the way to his house, it’s a short walk and I know what I’ll find when I get there. You all loveydovey in his arms, as the goddamn slut that you are.

The walk there pisses me off even more, it gives me the time to think about you, about that fucking traitor of a man I used to call a friend.

My fists bang on the door. “Soap! I know you’re in there with this filthy whore.” My voice is a mere bark.

“Be a fucking man and face me.”

Your POV:

You had nearly forgotten about Simon. Not really obviously, you knew you still had to face him one day. Half of your belongings were still at that house. But for now, for now you could forget him. Soap’s bedroom was filled with laughter, you had more in common than you thought, memories, hobbies, even the same dishes you liked.

Although he liked olives, and the mere thought of them was enough to make you shudder.

Soap was in the middle of a story about Captain Price, something about his hidden porn stash when three loud bangs made the both of you quiet. It was unmistaken who’s voice it was. It felt as if a hand had reached out to your throat, squeezing it shit. Your eyes pleaded to Soap, begging him to stay in his bedroom with you. Surely Simon would leave, right? Right?

The banging got louder, more violent, his profanities carrying out over the street. All you wanted was for the ground to break open and swallow you whole.

“I have to face him.”

“What? No Johnny that’s ridiculous.”

“He won’t leave, I can just explain what happened. I’ll tell him you don’t want to see him.”

“But he sounds dangerous.”

“I’ve known him for years, lass. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach, the horrible feeling as if something was bound to happen, Soap had closed the door behind him, as if he wanted to shield you from what was about to happen. You hid away in the corner, your knees brought up to your chest, as if you wanted to make yourself as tiny as possible.

You could hear the door open. Soap’s voice was the first to be heard. “Hey man, I know this looks ba-“ His sentence got cut short.

Something was happening, but you couldn’t make out what it was. The closed door muffled the sounds to much.

Yet the sounds of a person falling was clear to you. A man begging another man to stop, the faint sound of fists hitting their target.

Your bag.

It was still on the couch, you knew it was there, all you could do was to pray that Simon didn’t find it.

Your mind was racing, where had you put your phone? You knew it was in this room, somewhere, you had used it to text him that picture.

Oh god, why did you do that?

This was all happening because you just had to be petty. Johnny was getting murdered and you were having a pity party. Selfish bitch.

You had to find that fucking phone. Call someone. Call the police even.

But you were too scared. Afraid that if you were to move, Simon would hear you and come for you.

The sounds of footsteps on the stairs snapped you out of it. You wanted it to be Soap, you really did, but you knew it was Simon. “I know you’re in there you fucking filthy slut!”

You pressed yourself against the wall, hoping that you could blend in, maybe disappear while you’re at it.

The bedroom door swings open, and the man before you is no longer the man you once loved. His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared, a predator looking at his prey.

You can hear the soft groans coming from downstairs. You want to escape, you want to leave, but your body betrays you.

“Simon, I, I, I.” You start to stutter. His hands grab a handful of hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“You really thought you were smart, huh?” He hisses through his gritted teeth. He lets go of your hair, and for a second you think you can breathe. That was a mistake.

His right fist hits you, then his left, right, left, right, left, right. Until you start to lose count.

You hold up your arms to defend yourself, but it’s useless. He is trained to do this, and you’re his target.  

You start to beg him, beg him for your life, but you can tell he is enjoying this, your tears, the fear in your eyes, it is nothing but fuel to his anger.

His hands grab your hair again, dragging you towards the bed. You’re too stunned, too terrified to even react.

The sound of his zipper going down makes your eye widen in fear. “I’ll show you who the fuck you belong to.” He hisses at you.

It is Soap who stumbles into the room that make the both of you look up. God. He looks horrible, he looks as if he was dragged through hell and back. The pain is visible in his eyes, the blood on his face, the red marks on his body.

A broken promise.

Ghost let’s out an annoyed grunt. “I’ll take care of our little problem.” He whispers into your ear. His voice, the tone, the words, it sends shivers down your spine. The sound of his zipper going back up is a blessing and a curse.

You’re safe, for now.

You can only watch in horror when you can see Ghost make his way over to Soap. You want to react. Your mind is screaming at you to do something. But your body can’t.

It seemed as if time was slowing down. The sunset slowing illuminating the room you’re in. The tension in the thick air. It looks like a horrible nightmare, one you wish to wake up from.

You’re held captive by your own body and mind. No control over what you’re thinking or doing, it makes you feel helpless.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. Snap out of that freeze response, no more freezing. You need to fight or you need to get out. Go. Go. Go.

Your body handles on it’s own, despite the pain you’re in, you manage to get up, stumbling over your own feet.

Get out or fight.

It’s the gunshot that follows next, that puts you into freeze again.

Your POV:

Ghost looked at his hands, he was visibly confused by the blood on them. His blood?

Your hands are shaking, your mind goes back to a date you and Ghost went on 2,5 years ago.

It was a sunny day, and he was so excited to take you there. He had been talking about it for a few weeks and you finally decided to give in.

Who would have thought a silly little date to a shooting range would save your life one day?

Not you, not Ghost.

You had spotted the gun in Soap’s backpack, the will to survive took over, your body snapping out of your freeze mode before your mind was able to.

“That’s a good lass.” A Scottish accent broke the silence.

Ghost dropped to his knees, his hands pressing on the gunshot wound. So much was happening at once, yet you tried to take control over the situation once again. Your hands tremble as you load another bullet into the chamber.

“Stay down or I’ll fucking shoot again.” Oh how you try to be confident, but the words are a mere whisper as the tears start to roll down your cheek. You try not to choke on your shallow breaths.

The tension in the air is horrible. You can tell Soap is holding on for dear life, not knowing how to continue. You can tell that Ghost is defeated, as if the shot held a mirror in front of him, he was no better than his father and he knew it.

And you, standing there. Holding on to that pistol for dear life, your knuckles white from the tight grip.

A few loud bangs, a loud voice, a small army of police men joining you in the room, the rest of the day a blur.

You didn’t exactly look innocent, holding a loaded weapon, pointing it to an already wounded man.

And God, for the first time you felt lucky. You could show the texts he had sent you, the way he had torn up the place you used to call home, you had only shot him once, and it was a non-lethal shot.. It all ruled in your favour, the judges ruled it self-defence.

Ghost on the other hand didn’t get as lucky, all the evidence pointed in his direction, even after you’d shot him.

Although the sentence he got was a joke.

Sixty days.

He would spent two months in jail for traumatizing you, for harming you, for destroying what belonged to you, for harming Soap, for making your home feel unsafe.

Just sixty days.

But, for sixty whole days you felt safe. You knew he wouldn’t be lurking around the corner, you knew that for sixty whole days you could breathe again.

Ghost POV:

I lost it all. And for what? For a little toy, for a little smile, for a little weak moment. Sixty goddamn days of my life.

It wasn’t even worth it. It made me lose the job I worked so hard for. Price didn’t want to hear shit after I got my sentence. I tried to explain how it wasn’t really my fault. After all, you and Soap had planned this. No matter how innocent you tried to act in court. I knew what had happened.

I really tried to live with my anger. I had to go to therapy, but that was a waste of my fucking time. I have one little outburst and all of the sudden I am the problem?

I had to sell the house, because of you. Everything reminded me of you, at night I thought I saw you stand in the doorway, I swear I could hear your footsteps, your laugh, your voice. But you were never there. It haunted me, you know that? So I sold it, bought another house. Tried to forget about you. The money I had made during my time in the military, it lasted me a long time. I didn’t have to work, no I could drown my sorrows in liquor and hookers. The funny thing was, money doesn’t last, just like we didn’t.

And I really tried. I tried to get new jobs, but they would never last. God, people are morons and I just cannot deal with them. Do you know how hard it is to keep your house when you’re not able to keep a goddamn job? And furthermore, do you know how hard it is to keep a relationship when you’re not able to hold a job, when the bills are stacking up?

God, and even if I could hold a job, I’m not able to keep a relationship, I keep searching for a piece of you. Even when they’re a perfect match, they’re still not you.

I hate myself for letting you go, I crave how predictable you were, I crave your touch, your voice, you.

Yet at the same time, I am so angry at you for taking everything from me. I deserve better than this. You took everything I worked so hard for.

The anger is tucked away, for now. It reappears whenever I hit the bottle. Everything I’ve been holding in comes out then. It’s not a pretty sight when I get my shit together again, it makes me feel ashamed.

Your little action has made me unable to look into the mirror. I see my fathers eyes whenever my eyes linger to long on the man I see in the mirror. I became what I hated the most and I can only blame you for it.

I even tried to make up with the last woman, the one you found the video of. I went to her house, tried to explain myself. I even apologised for calling her my toy. She had the audacity to laugh at me. She told me to fuck right off. Hell, she even pulled her girlfriend to her side when I asked for a second chance. It left me broken. Not even my back up wanted me anymore.

Lately I’ve been wandering the streets, as a soul without a purpose. I avoid the large windows, I cannot stand to see my reflection in them, the shell of the man I was supposed to be. I had such a good life ahead of me, but it was all ruined. My days are filled with sorrow and time is slipping through my fingers.

It is a good day, a beautiful day, so I decide to go to the park, maybe it would ease my mind, before I would go home and get drunk again. I wander around in the park, aimlessly, the sun on my skin is a nice feeling, it beats the feeling of feeling sorry for myself.

My heart skips a beat when I see you. You’re standing close to the water, and I can’t tell what you’re saying to the man in front of you, but you look happy. The clothes you’re wearing fit your body perfectly, and truth be told, you look better than you’ve ever looked before.

God I miss you. I miss you so goddamn much. I start to make my way over to you, I want to talk to you, maybe there is a new chance for us to be together. The guy you’re with can suck it, I can show you what you deserve.

My blood runs cold when I see the man in front of you go down on one knee.

No.

Your POV:

You never stepped foot into that house again, you tried, but the tea stained wall was enough for you to back down. All your belongings you had left behind were things you could replace.

But that wasn’t your biggest worry. Soap had risked his life for you, and for what? Because you needed to prove a point to Simon? You felt so, so, so goddamn guilty. Luckly for the both of you, Soap ‘only’ had two broken ribs, a black eye and a few other bruises. You both knew it could have ended different.

Soap was a kind soul, and you knew it. He offered you a place to stay when you couldn’t go back to the place you once called home. He insisted on taking the couch, even with his injuries. He insisted that you were the one who deserved to sleep in his bed after everything you had been through.

In return you made him breakfast every day. The man was a sucker for fresh pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, maple syrup. All of them together, or just one of those things. It didn’t matter to him, as long as it was something you had cooked, this man was content.

What started as just breakfast, quickly became dinner too, lunch followed shortly  after. Although Soap slept on the couch, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running up the stairs when he could hear you having a nightmare, eventually you’d start having flashbacks of that morning. The events repeating themselves in your mind time after time, leaving you frozen in place.

Soap was there for you, no questions asked. He was on medical leave anyway, and he wanted to care for you, protect you. He would always be there when the nightmares or flashbacks started. Holding you, grounding you, bringing you back into reality every time.

After one particular flashback the two of you stayed on the couch, even though it was late at night. You didn’t dare to go to sleep, worried that the nightmares would keep you up again, and Soap wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

The next thing you knew was that you woke up with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder as you held him tight. The best part of it all? It never felt awkward. When he finally woke up he had a boyish grin on his face.

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in a while.” He told you, before he gave you some space again. “How about I make you some pancakes this time?”

You had always thought that Ghost made you feel at home, but Soap.. Holy shit, Soap was something else. When the night fell that day and it was time to go to bed you held your hand out to him, he didn’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Not if it was up to you anyway.

You could tell he was hesitant to take your hand. “I want you to, no, I need you to know you don’t have to do this to pay me back in any way, shape or form.” He began. You shushed him. This wasn’t about paying him back, this was about the feeling that had began to grow inside your heart.

He responded with a simple kiss on your nose. A token of appreciation.

It was the start of something beautiful, Soap was so much kinder than Ghost had ever been to you. Because it was Soap who woke you up with a thousand and one kisses on every inch of skin he could get his hands on, it was Soap who made sure you were always comfortable, no matter where you were or what you were doing. It was Soap who made sure you would at least get a text every day when he was on a mission, it was Soap who hid little love notes around the house when he was away.

Soap brought you stones from the missions he had been on, always proudly telling you how he picked the prettiest rocks, just for you. Even when he was away on missions, he always made sure you never, ever felt lonely.

He had just come home after he went to a little bakery to get you both breakfast, so you could sleep in.

“I saw some ducklings in the park when I walked back.” He told you, before he took a bite of his croissant.

“Really?” Your voice is filled with excitement. “Can we check them out after breakfast?”

“Only if I get a kiss first.”

“Deal!”

“Ah shoot, I should’ve asked for more.” The Scot pouted while he stole your last piece of pastry.

“Hey! That was mine.”

“Sorry lass, boyfriend tax.” He grinned as he swallowed the stolen bite.

“Now.” A devilish grin formed on his lips. “You still owe me a kiss.”

A laugh escapes your lips before he kisses you, his strong arms wrapped around you, as your hands rest on his waist. “That was worth all the ducklings in the world.” He whispers to you as he presses a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Come little lass, before those ducklings are fully grown ducks.”

He doesn’t let go off your hand for the whole walk to the park, the two of you walk in silence, and it’s nice. His presence is enough for you, and you are enough for him.

You look around the little pond to see a glimpse of the promised ducklings, but they are nowhere to be seen. You have your back turned to him, as your eyes scan the area.

“They’re gone.” Your voice sounds disappointed. “Well damn it, I want that kiss back Jo-“ Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn around to face him.

There he is, on one knee in front of you, a little black box in his hand.

“Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

[panlight]

Does anyone else remember when breaking dawn book came out the fans criticized it, and meyer kept retconning her words in every single interview? she stated one thing then she would say something else. There was a person who made a petition about a letter to her about breaking dawn and her brother seth gave a very rude response. Fans of twilight (I myself just realized this) need to realized the twilight books are about the author stephaine meyer herself. it's meyer's dream, she is bella cullen, edward is her dream man and renesmee is her dream baby girl she never got. the whole twilight saga franchise of the novels are written for her, not the fans as she stated before in a interview (when she said that i was shocked).

what are your thoughts on this?

I was around for the Breaking Dawn controversy. I wasn't as invested in the fandom at the time, just sort of dipping my toe in, so it was more that I was watching it from the outside than being really involved myself, but yeah it was a lot. A lot of people really hated Breaking Dawn, and one of the sticking points was that the fandom felt like SM had shut down any possibility of Edward and Bella having kids with her answers about vampire reproduction, so for her to do this surprise twist of like, "haha I didn't say a vampire couldn't have kids with a human!" went over like a lead balloon. A lot of people felt lied to, even if SM didn't technically lie. Misled, at least.

I vaguely remember the petition to the brother (who managed her website at the time), and I also remember some leaks a few days before the book came out and everyone trying to figure out who Nessie was and what the name could be short for, and people guessed Agnes because it meant lamb and people complained about what a terrible name Agnes was (oh you sweet summer children!).

As I said, I wasn't super invested at the time. I had read the other three books but I had read them as part of a marathon read of vampire books, so it wasn't that I was into Twilight specifically, more vampires generally, but I spent quite a bit of time reading through Amazon reviews because some of them were so funny. I waited for the book to be available at the library before I read it, though. I wasn't in a place of "you ruined my favorite thing!" it was more like, haha wow this is weird!

And like, I get it. At the end of the day, SM wrote this for herself because she had a cool dream. She's a mom and a wife and that's the world she knows and the "happily ever after" she wanted for her story. But Breaking Dawn just kind of laid all the weirdness of the other books bare. Things I thought were hyperbole or exaggeration I was like, "oh wait, that was all literal this whole time? Wild." And everything that bugged me about Bella being the center of the universe who everyone fell all over themselves to help and protect and comfort and reassure (and if they didn't, they were Bad) was taken to the next level with everyone's instant devotion to Renesmee, who I personally found uncanny and soulless as written rather than cute and endearing.

I found it interesting how SM misjudged how a large portion of the fandom would feel about Renesmee, and especially Jacob's imprint on her. It's like she didn't understand Team Jacob at all if she thought they'd be happy with this. I remember following someone's recap and they got to a point where they were like "ugh are Jacob and Leah going to be a thing? That's so predictable" and then read them epically freak out when the imprint on Nessie happened and they were like "I take it back! Give me Jacob and Leah!! Anything but this!!!" And she misjudged a segment of Team Edward too, who wanted Edward and Bella to have sexy and romantic vampire adventures rather than a kid.

She wrote the story she wanted, so much so that she fought to have a fourth book so she could include Renesmee who was in her original ending (Forever Dawn). And that's her right as an author, and you know it worked out for her, she made a ton of money from the book and movie(s). But her version of a HEA (marriage and kids) came off to some as strange in a teenage vampire romance. I remember SM explaining that the Twilight Moms seemed to get it, that nothing was sexier than your boyfriend becoming your husband and the father of your child, and it's like, cool, but these characters are teenagers so the younger readers who related to them weren't expecting this yet.

[court-jobi]

AAAAH i love your bakugo x biker!reader series every time you post a new story I get so excited their relationship is so cute and your writing is so compelling I just have to read them over and over again

Awwww anon!!! Thank you so much!!! That is high praise, and I appreciate you sharing your love for them so much~ Methinks I need to start a little timeline for that sweet n' spicy reader... and perhaps give you a lil sneak peak into an idea I've had recently where biker!reader is a bit cheeky... all in good fun, right?

To catch up on this series and my other MHA fics, check it out here!

Bakugou x biker!reader WIP incoming...

Picturing UA holding a Work Study Expo -a new initiative by Midoriya to help connect would-be heroes with Pros they may not know yet; namely for the hero courses, but also with added attention for the support students!

Enter our darling biker!reader. Reader is sandwiched by Kirishima and Bakugou to come attend-- the boys both RSVP with a unanimous 'yes' seeing a UA reunion tour in the making, with Bakugou particularly excited to take you there to see his former school since you'd received your secondary education elsewhere.

You're happy for it too; gives you just a little more insight into the place that had a large part in building him up to the hero status he is today...

...until the three of you are checking out the figures across the reception space-- and you freeze when you spot someone. Kirishima clocks it as a starstruck response and despite your harshly whispered word of denial, he makes off in golden retriever fashion to go get them.

Bakugou would be... a bit intrigued to see this reaction from you. Not that you weren't allowed your idols (even though he feels no one holds a candle to Allmight by default), but he was curious as to why you would look so... antsy. It wasn't quite a 'Deku' level of floundering - but that purposeful squaring up of your shoulders and avoidance of his eye contact altogether gave him cocky cause to tease you further.

"What, scared to meet your heroes? Figured you'd be plenty used to that by now."

"Shush,heisnotmyhero."

"Oi--" Bakugou cocks his head to the side, effectively forcing you to look at him over your predicted line of sight. "What's your issue then, angel eyes?"

With an unavoidable storytime bubbling in your gut, you run the risk to see if you can sum everything up for him by the time Kirishima comes back-- or at the very least, figure out the nearest exit to gracefully disappear to for the next fifteen minutes or so....

You pull him aside lightly by the wrist, closer to one of the tables of handouts for the event.

"Okay... You have to remember one thing, promise?"

"Yeah?" Bakugou chimes back, entertained.

"This happened before I met you."

His interest doubles, but smile falls, "...yeah?"

"I have not thought about it one day since.."

"... yeah?"

"Remember how I told you," you tread lightly as some students pass you by with some excited waves, "-when I transferred here, I had to work with that proviso license from the Commissions office 'cuz of the whole 'double-triple-check' applicants' liabilities clauses? And mine took forever and a day, because of all those traffic violations that were completely legal where I was last stationed?"

"Uh-huh."

"And that meant I took nothing but graveyard shifts for the first, like, six months... so I basically broke ground solo before the agency could pick up my contract?"

"Uh-huh...?"

Reader sets the scene for a particular alleyway they'd been stationed at, something of a traffic stop role and in prime position for hopping onto the freeway if needed. Helmeted with your visor up, you could keep on coms while getting a little bit of fresh air to keep you awake.

But it's also the sort where villains make their playground meetups and cause some trouble for unsuspecting folks. It's easy work- though trouble could crop up at any time....

Enter the hero you caught sight of across the room: the man you'd watched string up a trio of baddies so expertly, you knew they were never gonna get anywhere near you, so why flinch?

The hero who'd snidely commented how he coulda appreciated the help, but who you assured with a saucy 'you had it under control, hon'.

The hero who you proved yourself to by jumping into action together in a bit of an impromptu high-speed chase.

The hero who ultimately caught your name, but chose to call you 'Speedy' after your impressive performance. Who said you were no rookie like he thought.

The hero who chipped the lip of your helmet in thanks and patted the rear of your bike in a casual move before setting off into the night again, sufficiently making a mark on your fluttering heart as your new favorite hero of Japan.... who you cannot believe you with and who is now approaching over Bakugou's shoulder:

"... AIZAWA?!?"

"Eraserhead," you corrected gracefully.

A flurry of emotions crossed Bakugou's largely incredulous face, though he settled on merely repeating,

"You flirted... with Aizawa?!"

Forcing Bakugou to lower his volume was a lost cause, but you could control yours, "I had-not-met-you-yet-- remember that!"

And was it considered flirting? You could barely get a read on the guy

"Nah, I'm still stuck on my fucking teacher hitting on you... and you called him what?? You know how fuckin' old that guy is?!!"

"Thirty-nine." you fire back immediately.

"--HEH?"

And you can't stop-- though you have the gall to look a little sheepish.

"Scorpio. Ambidextrous. Has a white cat named after the title character of Samurai Jack."

"...."

"Went on Present Mic's show a few months back.. not that I had a notification or anything for when it aired-"

Bakugou stands in a rare moment of silence. Disbelief, rage, shock, and maybe something heated lay behind his eyes, but you honestly can't tell which is going to win out.

".. you're fucking with me."

"I am not."

"

"Absolutely not! Kats, he is never going to single me out of an entire room here, and think back to one patrol night out of thousands, that's ridicul--"

"Bakugou... 'Speedy'."

Alongside Kirishima's proud presence who had been anxiously awaiting this interaction stood Aizawa: fitted with his off-hours eyepatch but who clearly did -in fact- remember you.

As long as you avoid Bakugou's absolute stare of death, you can properly school your reaction to be one of perfect charm; as always when meeting other Pro-Heroes. It's not like you still hold any feelings whatsoever with this man... but you'd truly rather have this conversation anywhere else than beside your darling Katsuki, who's about to blow up if you so much as smile at his former homeroom teacher.

"Should I be scared that you remember me sans helmet, or flattered?" you offer pleasantly.

Aizawa gives a little bow to you before straightening up with a smooth reply, "I never forget a face."

If looks could kill, Shota Aizawa should be collapsing on the spot under Bakugou's eye. And even if you think it's a harmless comment, you know for a fact you'll be paying for it later.

--Scene--

To be continued, m'loves?

TLDR; Bakugou:

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most)

Yeah, I should’ve known that I needed to get around to this someday.

You see, the reason why I hadn’t made a theory about the identity of the Despair Time mastermind is that… I'm not totally convinced on any one person being the mastermind. Like, look at these clowns! They’re all so weird! I love them all for it, obviously, but none of their personality quirks or roles in the story stand out to me as particularly mastermind-y. There are a lot of characters that I believe could be the mastermind, but it’s also pretty easy to convince me out of it for one reason or another.

However, it’s not like I had any idea about who the P:EG mastermind would be, either! At least with two chapters under its belt, I can feel more comfortable that I’m not just fully mischaracterizing the Despair Time cast. And I definitely have things to say about various DRDT masterminds, just… in a way that’s kinda hard to rank.

But, that’s no reason for me to be cowardly! I’m sure that seriously scrutinizing all of the characters’ mastermind potentials and ultimately coming up with who I think the most likely candidate is will be super fun. It’s just… going to be really long, so, buckle in. And maybe prepare to take breaks in the middle.

(Spoilers for all three main canon games and DRDT.)

Why is it going to be so long? Well, it’s because, when it comes to DRDT, I think that my predictions will be at least partially based on how long I think each character will make it into the story. If I have a particularly strong inclination that a character is going to die in Chapter 3.456, no matter how unfounded, it might make me feel worse about their prospects of being the mastermind. That’s not to say that a mastermind can’t appear to die (or actually die) before Chapter 6 rolls around, of course. However, it is an uncommon additional hurdle to the story that would require some justification and a little suspension of disbelief if I’m trying to call it years before it transpires.

So, if we’re going to talk about the mastermind, I need to share my current feelings about where each character might place in the death order. Should I update the title…?

Danganronpa: Despair Time Mastermind Ranking (Least to Most) AND ALSO Death Order Predictions

These are my mastermind rankings, so my opinions on where the characters might be headed will obviously be used as the baseline. Naturally, you don’t need to believe in anything I'm about to throw out here. I’m just trying to explain my thought process so that nothing I say later on will come as a total surprise.

Also, since it’s kind of long, here’s the top of the death order section. I think it’ll provide some important context, but if you want to skip it, look for the other green, bold text.

Some of my thoughts were inspired by anderscim’s death predictions theory, as I read that pretty soon after I joined the fandom. I encourage you to go read their work as well!

The tiers are mostly pretty self explanatory– 3-4 means I think they’re at risk of dying sooner and 4-5 means I think they’re at risk of dying later. But, I’ll give everyone what I hope to be a quick rundown on each character just to explain my thinking. 

Xander: Xander canonically died as the Chapter 1 victim.

Min: Min canonically died as the Chapter 1 blackened.

Arei: While I respect the concept, I personally don’t believe in the “J and Arei swapped places and Arei is actually still alive” theory, and I will be writing the rest of this post accordingly. So, to me, Arei canonically died as the Chapter 2 victim.

Eden: Pretty much anyone who’s seen my DRDT theories at this point shouldn't be surprised that I’m listing Eden as the Chapter 2 killer. The logic behind this belief has been explained by my lovely mutuals here and here.

Levi: Alright, on to the ones I don’t have any concrete evidence to support! (There is concrete evidence behind the ch2 murder, even if you believe it points elsewhere.) Levi has had a decent amount of focus already in his trainwreck of a relationship with Ace and discussions of morality with Eden and Teruko. If he does serve as an accomplice to the Chapter 2 killer (see the first link in Eden’s section), then I feel like his clock will really be ticking. He’d be trapped with the branding of a bad person, his greatest fear, and left without any relationships to lean on. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone targeted him as a victim they “believed deserved to die after what happened,” or even if Levi decided that he was doomed to be a villain from the start and decided to kill. Alternatively, he could try to redeem himself as a classic Chapter 4 buff curse sacrifice in some way. In either case (or even in the case of him just being the Chapter 2 killer), I have my doubts that he’ll be making it too much later into the game.

Arturo: To me, Arturo doesn’t feel like a character set up for incredible longevity. That doesn’t mean I’m pigeonholing him as a one-dimensional villain or pure comedic relief, just that Arturo seems like a character who might be set up to have his ideology lead to his downfall. I don’t think he’s dying in Chapter 2, as I believe the narrative would want to see how he reacts to J burning the bridges between them, but I could definitely see the story only needing one more round of daily life (or possibly a trial as well) to resolve wherever his character is going.

Charles: Look, it’s not only because he’s already been pronounced dead at 3. As I elaborated upon in Charles’ section of this post (The Jerk), Charles feels like he’s speeding towards the end of his character arc far ahead of schedule. It could just be that he needed to learn to make friends quickly before Whit makes an early exit, sending him on a secondary arc where he learns to process his current grief and fears as a parallel to regaining memories about Elliot. However, I find it much more likely that the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario plays out in the opposite direction. He makes a lot of sense as a Chapter 3 victim to me.

Nico: Similar to Arei and J, I am writing all of my theories with the assumption that it really was Nico who attempted to murder Ace in Chapter 2, because I think it makes the most narrative sense. (I could keep typing out a “well, unless” every time, but I don’t really want to eat up my time writing or your time reading all of that.) Through that lens, the fact that Nico has already murdered someone and “gotten away with it,” more or less, puts them in a really weird situation. I don’t really see them killing again, as it feels like we’ve already explored the emotional and narrative implications of that happening through Chapter 2. Although, I can’t deny that it would be interesting to see the fallout of Ace being proven totally right and Hu 100% wrong. Still, if they were to be a survivor after doing something so severe so early into the game, it seems like they would have to undergo some sort of redemption for the audience to accept them as a face of hope in the end. I don’t currently see any great paths to that happening, although there’s obviously still plenty of story time for something to open up. For now, though, I feel more confident in placing them as a early/mid-game victim, likely as a consequence of choosing to harm someone else.

Hu: Given her overall lack of focus in the story thus far, I find it likely that Hu will be one of the focal characters of the Chapter 3 daily life. That could be bad news, considering how Xander and Arei fared after being focused upon in their respective daily lives, but… I dunno, I just feel like Hu would survive it, somehow? Wouldn’t be too surprised if she didn’t, but my gut instinct is that she would. I kind of see her character exiting the story in Chapter 4, no preference on killer vs victim.

Veronika: Veronika is a very weird character (an “oddball,” I’ll call it), and thus, my predictions for her are strongly based on the patterns that oddball characters normally follow. I’ll be using canon characters only, because I believe that those are the only killing games that I have the right to assume every DRDT fan has seen. But, you can apply these same kinds of patterns to many fangan characters. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for fangans breaking from typical Danganronpa norms and following their own paths. But, in the case of how oddballs are treated, I think these characters generally tend to follow these patterns because they’re sensible writing practices. I’ll try to explain why each of these conventions makes sense in the following bullet points.

Oddballs tend not to die in Chapters 1 or 2. This is because oddball characters are generally created to supply a very niche kind of comedic relief– examples from DRDT could include Arturo’s commentary on ugly people or Ace’s bizarre remarks of cowardice. Any character deemed worthy of being included in a fangan occupies one of 16 highly contested slots. So, if you include a character for the purpose of making jokes with them, you'll want to get your bang for your buck! It’s hard to fit every joke you have in mind into only a chapter or two. The best example I could come up with for a (canon) oddball who dies early is Teruteru. In his case, the writers likely anticipated that his hyper-flirtatious nature would get tiring if it continued on for too long, and thus, exhausted all of the jokes they wanted to make in Chapter 1 before his exit. An oddball who dies this early has a limited shelf life, and is likely accompanied by other oddballs who can pick up the comedic slack.

Many have pointed out that silly oddballs often die in Chapter 3 (Hifumi, Ibuki, Tenko) as a way to signify the death of fun and innocence. You also have a chance to get rid of some of the more sinister oddballs (Celeste, Kiyo) at a point where it seems unfeasible for them to have stuck around this long without… well, killing someone. In either case, it’s because Chapter 3 is a great balance of letting a character stay in a story for long enough that they achieve whatever strange effects you wanted from them, while also clearing them off the stage before you get into the really serious business. Silly oddballs especially may not be equipped to handle the often turbulent natures of Chapter 4 without breaking the serious tone too much, so it’s best to axe them at the midpoint.

Endearing oddballs (Gundham, Gonta) have a hard time making it past Chapter 4. If Chapter 4 is serious, Chapters 5 and 6 are even more so, and the Chapter 4 killer slot in particular is a viable dumping ground for characters who don’t really have a place in the finale. Their deaths are meant to pull at your heartstrings and prove how a killing game can make literally anyone– yes, even that guy– a killer. (Miu is an outlier; more like an extended Chapter 3. Unlike THH, which has its tonal shift at the end-of-Ch3-Sakura Traitor Reveal, and SDR2, which has its tonal shift at Mikan’s insanity and death, v3’s tonal shift comes at Kokichi's accusation and Kaito and Shuichi's argument, or possibly even Miu's death itself. The Chapter 4 Daily Life isn’t all that serious in and of itself. Thus, Miu dying as a Ch4 victim functions more like killing off a silly oddball before she has to deal with all the betrayal and scheming that occurs later on.)

Oddballs really only die in Chapter 5 to the extent that you can count major antagonists like Nagito and Kokichi as Weird Dudes. As the precursor to the big, showstopping, mind-bending Chapter 5 Trial, the mood is typically pretty… straightforward. Depending on the overall plot’s arc, Chapter 5 is either the point where most of the surviving students are concluding their character arcs and learning how potent a weapon teamwork is (THH, SDR2), or a “dark night of the soul” type moment where all of the slowly growing inter-character conflicts are finally coming to a head (v3). It can also be Version A for some characters and Version B for others, but, either way, hijinks are not ensuing, basically. Plot relevant things happen here, and as such, plot relevant characters are the ones who are dying. It can be hard for an oddball to find a place in the narrative relevant enough to serve as one of its final, poignant deaths without also being a major antagonist.

Despite everything I’ve said about oddballs dying, it is definitely possible for oddballs to survive. Danganronpa is, at its core, a dark comedy, and as such killing off all of your funny joke characters before the ending is probably a bad move. Hiro, Toko, Kazuichi, and Himiko are all characters I’d call oddballs that survive until the very end. The difference in their case is that part of their oddball nature is being… kind of pathetic? I think it helps them fade into the background more. It's also probably easier to give them a character arc than some others... like Veronika.

I’m sure that you can find exceptions to these “rules” I’ve laid out, especially amongst casts that have a high percentage of oddballs (which you could certainly argue fits DRDT). However, pattern recognition brain go brrrr. I don’t think that Veronika fits the description of a Chapter 1-2, Chapter 4, or survivor oddball particularly well. That leaves Chapter 3 (sinister) and Chapter 5 (bewildering antagonist). I don’t know if it’s that Veronika doesn't seem to have much of a reason to kill at this point in time or all of Veronika’s weird mastermind coding that makes me think DRDTdev might have greater plans for her. Either way, I’m leaning Chapter 5, probably victim. Jeez, that was a long section for one character. Favoritism, I guess?

J: J gets her own category because, honestly, I have no idea what to do with her. Could J make it to the end? Sure! Could J die in a Chapter 3 scheme? Sure! Could J be the Chapter 2 killer? Well, I personally believe the evidence points elsewhere, but in terms of narrative? Sure! The only real inclination I have is that I think it’s more likely that she would be a killer than a victim, mostly because Ultimate Effects Artist is a talent that could lend itself to some really creative and fun murder setups. Given that I have more characters pegged as early game deaths right now, I lean towards J late game, but… man, I don’t know!

Teruko: Teruko is the protagonist, and also is a Lucky Student who allegedly “can’t die.” Especially after she made that claim, it would be silly if she died before the ending– it’d just kinda make her look like a fool. I’m not averse to theories where Teruko is no longer the protagonist by the end, whether by her death or someone else taking up the role for whatever reason, but in the sense that “Survivor” = “Chapter 6,” I think Teruko will survive. I’m not here to predict crazy last-minute Kiibo-blowing-himself-up twists.

Rose: I think that Rose has a really nice arc of overcoming her fears and becoming less passive set up in front of her. We spent enough time establishing her relationship with Teruko that I could see her being a good potential friend/support character to Teruko in the endgame if relationships with people like Eden or Charles fall through. (And, at this point, you know what I think about Eden and Charles…) She’s also good at delivering low-key jokes that can provide some levity without totally ruining the tone. We already saw some of that in this scene. The main things that I think could be standing in her way are her photographic memory and history of debt. The photographic memory could be too annoying of an obstacle to write around for the entire game, and instead be an ongoing effect set to expire in in Chapter 3. Additionally, a money motive paralleling THH’s in Chapter 3 could be too tempting for Rose to pass up. Really, what I’m saying is, if Rose can make it through Chapter 3, I think she’s golden. We’ll just have to see how that Chapter pans out in the future.

David: Oh, David. Currently serving as Teruko’s largest antagonist, I can see why people would think that he would die in Chapter 5. However, I’m not going to beat around the bush and pretend that I’m the only person who thinks David might survive, either. As an inspirational speaker, David is established early on as a character who should be a beacon of hope, before revealing that he’s more of a hope-sucking black hole. It would make sense if, alongside Teruko, he learns to find more of a balance between blithe optimism and cynical depression and heal as a person. He has a lot of very obvious depth that I think a lot of people want to see explored, and whose exploration would be very on-brand for the themes of a typical killing game story. Plus, if Teruko ever does stop being the protagonist, David probably needs to be alive at that point to pick up the slack.

Ace: Similar to Nico, it seems like we’ve already gotten a taste of what Ace being a victim would be like, in a way where I don’t think we’re going to see it again. He could still be a killer, but would the cowardly Ace even want to attempt killing someone and throwing himself into the scrutiny of a Class Trial? Well, it is true that Ace believes that “[neither] dying young or living a long, shitty life of suffering… are as bad as this” (the killing game?). So, he could simply grow fed up with the killing game and decide that risking a Class Trial is worth it, even if he does wind up dying young. However, if that were to occur, Chapter 2 seems like the narratively best time to do it, as it’s when his emotions are most potent and probably when others would least expect him to do it due to his weakened state. Like Rose, I feel the period Ace has most to worry about is this upcoming Chapter 2 killer slot, but if he makes it through, his arc of learning to escape his fear by bravely rising above it instead of lashing out to try to knock everyone down feels very viable.

Whit: The pro of the Inevitable CharWhit Doom Scenario is that, hopefully, one of the two would manage to make it as a survivor after the other one dies. And, I’m Team Whit Surviving! Not just based on which of the two I like better (they’re my first and second favorite characters, so I’m taking a massive L either way), but because I think it makes more sense for it to be Whit that lives further on. Unlike Charles, who feels like he’s already in the final lap of the character arc race, Whit has barely left the starting line. The laundry scene in Chapter 1 and Whit’s secret in Chapter 2 have both been used to establish that Whit focuses on his and others’ bliss in hopes of remaining ignorant of everything that stresses him. The main offender, of course, being that Whit lies about his mom being alive to presumably stave off his grief. The easiest way to give him a character arc that resolves that issue is to give him something to grieve– namely, Charles– and soon. If Whit’s main character struggle is pretending that people dying doesn’t bother him, he might need an entire Chapter or more to stubbornly show off his central flaw. Now, it is possible that, if Whit can’t overcome this flaw, he could die soon after Charles and meet a tragic fate. But, those just… aren’t the vibes, to me? A post-character arc Whit who knows how to grieve fiercely but healthily might come in handy if Teruko finds herself handling her own emotions about Xander, Min, and/or anyone else at the end of the game.

And here’s the bottom of the death order section!

Finally finished writing something that nobody asked of me at all. Well, I still think it was important, and I hope you feel the same.

Now that we’ve laid all that out, I think it’s finally time to actually see who I think the Danganronpa: Despair Time mastermind might be! Although, please keep in mind that, despite the large preamble full of story predictions, I’m still pretty uncertain on who I think the mastermind is. So, my points might not be the best supported, and I might change my mind again pretty soon after I post this theory. I expect to be far better at disproving why everyone is the mastermind rather than proving why anyone would be, because that’s generally how I feel… but, onwards we go!

#17: Arei Nageishi

(Forgive me for reusing art here, I’ve drawn these bastards ENOUGH /j)

If I were writing this after Despair Time’s prologue, like I did with P:EG, there’s a pretty good chance that Arei, at the very least, wouldn’t have placed dead last. But, well, now Arei is dead. And also last.

Obviously, there are other dead characters too. But still, Arei is the one who I most struggle to see as the mastermind. Given that Arei died as a victim whose body was thoroughly investigated by several parties, it’s pretty hard for me to believe that anyone could have missed any signs of life. I don’t get the sense that DRDT is in some kind of simulation where everyone can magically be alive again at the end either, so I think Arei is, sadly, well and truly dead.

On top of all that, we know a lot about her backstory from her Chapter 2 breakdown, and none of it seems to point her towards masterminding a killing game specifically. She doesn’t have any particular ties to any big organizations that would have helped her accomplish it, either. While she is NOT just a temporary weather spell whose absence will be celebrated and then forgotten, David… I have a hard time believing that the audience would find her character relevant enough(?) to be a good twist mastermind come Chapter 6 several years down the line.

I don’t think I really need to keep elaborating on this. Arei isn’t the mastermind.

#16: Charles Cuevas

I know it’s a bit of a bold move to put a character who’s currently alive below characters who have already died, but… man, I really just don’t see how Charles could pull this off.

And it’s not (just) because I think he’s going to die in Chapter 3 as part of Whit’s character arc, or that I want to believe that he’s a good person. Really, it’s mostly because of his phobias. How is a guy who started gagging at the sight of blood splattered on the floor supposed to be the one who orchestrated an entire death game? Could he get through the process of creating a brutal execution like Min’s without freezing up and freaking out? Even if he could do it, why would he? Sure, he didn’t seem to remember the fact that he had necrophobia until Xander died, but that might be even more of a problem. Wouldn’t the mastermind, who’s certainly had to consider the others’ deaths before, remember that they were afraid of death? He would almost certainly have to be lying about at least the scale of his reaction, although that’s probably a given if he is the mastermind.

Of course, there are mastermind subcategories that could better benefit Charles. If DRDT is actually a simulation, especially one in which the participants don’t actually die, that would definitely make it easier for him to be the one behind it. We’re also meant to believe that Charles has childhood amnesia, so he could have amnesia in other areas as well and be a mastermind who forgot they were one.

However, as I said before, I don’t particularly believe that DRDT is going to be a computer simulation or that Charles is an amnesiac mastermind. I just… don’t see this one in general.

#15: Xander Matthews

Let me preface this by saying that I’m not trying to argue that Xander is actually still alive. The concept that he would be able to fool not only Min, making her believe that she dealt him a fatal blow, but also everyone else as they identified his body, seems outlandish to me. However, just because Xander is dead doesn’t mean that he couldn’t have entered this game as the mastermind.

We know for a fact that Xander wanted to kill Teruko due to his dialogue regarding the note he received, which lines up well with the popular theory that Xander is the individual speaking in the first scene with the papers and the blood. If we assume he is that guy, then it may seem a little counterintuitive to think that the person who says “I have to end the killing game” would be the one behind the killing game. However, he also says, “Even if I can’t do that… I have to kill Teruko Tawaki,” implying that killing Teruko is of a higher priority than ending “the killing game.” Thus, if, for some reason, Xander thought that orchestrating the killing game was the only way to kill Teruko, it’s possible that he would be willing to let the death game roll for as long as it takes to eliminate his bigger target.

However, I can’t deny that the Xander mastermind theory has some massive flaws to it. For one, Xander is dead. I don’t think we’ve technically seen any evidence that the mastermind has to still be alive as of Chapter 2, but a mastermind-less Chapter 6 would be… an interesting challenge to write, to say the least. Also, while Xander betraying Teruko and the others was a great surprising hook the first time, if it happened again, it would be kind of… underwhelming, in my opinion. It’s the same kind of concept I brought up in my Eden’s Garden ranking:

Then, in Chapter 6, we’d be faced with the revelation that, wow, the mildly antagonistic character was actually a really antagonistic character all along! It just doesn’t seem like enough of a dramatic hook to me, I guess?

“Wow, the guy who betrayed Teruko and became a killer actually betrayed Teruko and was the mastermind all along! And now, he’s not even around to reap the social or karmic consequences of it!” You see.

And then, there is the literal interpretation of the text that Xander (if he is bloody hands man) obviously stands against the killing games. He’s also the Ultimate Rebel, someone who stands against corrupt institutions in general.

If Xander is revealed to be evil later down the line, it would make much more sense if it was as a traitor type. As for being the one and only mastermind, I think the odds are pretty low.

#14: Ace Markey

Hey, it’s another character that’s alive! And, this one doesn’t even have a crippling fear of death. However, he is a massive coward, and that’s the main thing that’s dragging him down for me.

Similar to Charles, what would Ace stand to gain from hosting a killing game such as this? Ace doesn’t seem to have any interest in notoriety, money, the destruction of society, despair, or any other things that I can think of that would motivate a typical mastermind. We’ve seen time and time again that Ace cares most about having control over both his life and how other people see him, even though he often fails on both fronts. I guess both of those things could be solved by hosting a killing game, but… Come on, there have gotta be easier ways to do that which don’t threaten your precious life.

Furthermore, what exactly would Ace being the mastermind have to say about the story as a whole? Jockey has to be in the running for “talents that are least relevant to a potential killing game host.” How about the idea that the mastermind nearly died in Chapter 2, only to go off the rails threatening and blaming his assailant? I… always knew that Nico was… fully in the right for doing that, because it would have killed the big bad early??? Ace Mastermind is the preferred ending for those who believe that Nico can do absolutely no wrong, lol.

I can’t remember where I saw it, but I once saw a theory of writing that said that there are two major kinds of character arcs. One is the typical character arc, where the narrative pushes a character's traits to change over the course of the story for better of for worse. The other, this theory posited, was an arc on the part of the viewer, where they learn that a character that they thought was flawed was actually not as flawed as they thought all along. You could potentially apply this kind of thing to Eden: in the first chapter, some people may have seen her as a dim-witted positive girl, but in Chapter 2, we firmly establish that her kindness is not stupidity and learn how her optimism is a strength.

So, you could say that the character arc DRDTdev is going for with Ace is something more like that, where we spend the entire game learning to treat him more seriously just in time for him to be a real threat as the mastermind? It still feels like a bit of a stretch, though– I don’t know exactly what Ace would do to make us take him more seriously that wouldn’t either send him on a growth arc not super befitting of a mastermind or wind up with him being a blackened. Ace as the mastermind certainly isn’t impossible, but I obviously found it unlikely enough that I placed him below one character who is currently (presumed) dead.

#13: Arturo Giles

Arturo’s role in the story so far is not very mastermind-ish, in my mind. In the prologue, we establish him as a cold and judgmental person who puts his own opinions of how the world works over everything else, especially how other people feel. This already feels like how a mastermind would act, so if he turned out to be the mastermind, it would be more of the same.

Then, in Chapter 2, we establish that he’s a massive simp for celebrities, to the point of transforming into something adjacent to comedic relief. We’re meant to think that his over-the-top sprites and refusal to actually listen to anything J is saying is hilariously pathetic. Other characters are constantly dunking on him, such as Teruko calling him a “bigoted” “crazy person,” and even the narrative gets in on the action when highlighting how he cares less about the fact that J’s life was at risk than that she didn’t come out of it with drip. Narratively, we’ve already seen these characters get the better of Arturo. If we the audience interpret that as confirmation that the surviving cast could easily beat Arturo should he ever come to stand in their way, it could diminish the stakes upon his mastermind reveal.

However, for all of his negatives, there are some definite positives to Arturo being the mastermind, too. Despite his comedic effects, we have seen through his threats to Eden that Arturo is very capable of being very scary in a way that I don’t think we have with Ace. The horror factor of a plastic surgeon as the mastermind could be a really fun and creepy design theme to explore. And, Arturo is obviously super obsessed with celebrities. If hosting a deadly TV show is what he thought it would take to get him in with the Hollywood celebrity scene, he might be willing to go for it.

I don’t really know why he would have made his secret what it is if he was going to get that upset about it, though. I guess if there just weren’t any better options that wouldn’t tip his hand…? Also, Arturo would blend in terribly as a survivor. If you’re heading into Chapter 6 and you have to pick the evil character out of (let me spin a wheel real quick...) Teruko, Eden, Rose, Charles, and Arturo, Arturo is definitely the evil one. (Okay, that was actually a terrible randomized draw for Arturo on the innocence front, but I hope you can imagine how he would oddly stick out of most groups.) Like I said in his death predictions, I find it hard to imagine a character arc for Arturo, which is why I find it hard to believe that he would make it as far as Chapter 6.

#12: Min Jeung

Honestly, if Min weren’t (most likely) dead, she might be pretty high on my list of mastermind choices. While not as suspicious as the Spurlings, XF-Ture Tech is pretty suspicious, even more so with the introduction of that one altDRDT character. Min is related to XF-Ture Tech, so if that company has anything to do with the operation of the killing game, she could have been the one behind it. Min is also very smart, and her talent has obvious applications for how it could have been used to set up/influence the killing game. The fact that her talent is so similar to Teruko’s, Ultimate Student versus Ultimate Lucky Student, could have also set them up for some great parallels and duality down the line.

However… Min’s role as the Chapter 1 killer throws a pretty big wrench in her chances. Beyond the dying part, Min’s role as the blackened was incredibly evitable. It’s not like she was thrown into a situation where she had to kill or be killed, or even one where a motive was particularly difficult for her. If she wanted to be the mastermind and survive until the end, all she had to do was walk away from Xander stabbing Teruko and pretend she never saw it. However, if Min’s goal was the inverse of ol’ Bloody Hands (keep the killing game running, but most importantly, keep Teruko alive), her actions could line up. And then, perhaps Min could have falsified her own execution early to draw suspicion off of her, much like Junko did by killing Mukuro.

Beyond her death, though, it’s really Min’s reaction to being the blackened that makes me think she can’t be the mastermind. The stellar voice acting in Min’s breakdown scenes makes me really believe both that this was the first time she had ever hurt anyone as gravely as she did to Xander, and that she fully believed that she was about to die. Those are two things that a mastermind, especially one headed into a fake execution, would not be feeling. Maybe Min memorized how to be a great actress too amongst all those textbooks, but I doubt it. I can still see several reasons why Min would have been a good mastermind, but her actual death and her reaction to being told she was dying knock her down several pegs in my mind.

#11: Hu Jing

Hu is a bit more suspicious to me than some others just because I think she has something to hide. Between her refusal to share whose secret she received or had herself, mysterious “I want to pay for what I’ve done” hidden quote, and intense desire to be relied upon, there’s definitely something about Hu as a person that the narrative has yet to uncover. Could that something be “Hu is the mastermind”? I dunno, maybe.

Hu also has a tendency to react to things with her temper. That could be a sort of foreshadowing to how she would act as the mastermind, much like how David’s brief spell of apathy during the prologue hinted at the way he would act further down the line. Hu’s defense of Nico could act much the same way. Our overall impression of Hu at this point is that, while she is a flawed person, she’s one of the nicest and morally best people in the game, who’s always looking out for others. Defending Nico to the point of babying them might cross the line a little, but she’s only trying to help everyone…! Hu could make it to the end as a believably heroic survivor and then reveal that all of her presumed poor decisions were actually active malice, and I think she could pull that off.

All that being said… I don’t, like, actually think that’s going to happen. In fact, I’m probably overexaggerating the extent to which people think that Hu is nice and morally good. I’ve seen several people discuss the unjust amounts of hate Hu gets in this fandom, which implies that a lot of people hate her, even if I haven’t particularly seen much of it myself. At the very least, I definitely over exaggerated the extent to which people believe Hu could survive! As implied in the death order predictions, I do personally think Hu is going to die, possibly as a consequence of getting too invested in everyone else’s business when they don’t want her to be and/or wearing herself too thin. There are paths which I believe could lead to Hu being the mastermind, but they seem to be the roads less likely traveled.

#10: David Chiem

While I have no doubts that David has the fame, charisma, and worldview to pull off a killing game… I’d have to wonder about how he would see himself playing into all of it. As we saw in Chapter 2, David knows that his career has a lot of value, possibly to himself but definitely to other people, and therefore, he doesn’t want to jeopardize it. In fact, the reveal of his manipulative secret was the inciting incident behind his massive change in characterization. So, if he were the mastermind of a televised killing game… How would he think that would play out to his viewers?

Now, to be fair, there’s a lot we don’t know about the worldbuilding of DRDT. MonoTV claims that the TV show will be broadcast to a widespread audience. Perhaps that indicates that, in the world of DRDT, publicly broadcasting talented young peoples’ violent deaths is normal, or even sought after. Maybe the cast of DRDT forgot about it.

However, David seems to think that people learning that he sees everyone as manipulable would do damage to his reputation, so it’s a bit of a contradiction either way. If the world has been wracked with despair and craves intense violence on TV, then David’s reaction to his secret is either an elaborate lie or the result of the mastermind erasing his own memories regarding the situation. (Or, I guess the public could see death as fine and dandy but manipulation as a cancellable offense, which is… one of the interpretations ever.) Otherwise, in the scenario that the DRDT world is a normal one, David wouldn’t care about being revealed as a manipulator if he’d already committed to the mastermind bit. If his career was already preemptively ruined by agreeing to commit literal murder, why get so worked up about the thought that people might abandon ship over you not being 100% honest?

And then, there’s also the whole “surprise factor” thing that I keep bringing up. Admittedly, it’s been a longer hiatus between the start of Chapter 2 and the end of Chapter 2 than DRDTdev might have been hoping for, but that doesn’t change the fact that this part of David’s characterization happened in Chapter 2. DRDT fans far and wide have written thousands of words gushing over “the David reveal” or “evil David.” If David were unveiled as the mastermind, we’d have to start writing stuff about “the first David reveal” or “when David showed his true colors again.” You see how it kind of takes the hype away from such major plot points? That’s the sort of concept I’ve been trying to get across with some of my other choices too, but a bit more clear cut.

I don’t know why I sound so much like a hater in this section (in my opinion) when I’m literally putting David at #10, above seven other characters. I guess it’s because I can see why his theatricality and traits foiling Teruko could make him a good mastermind, but also have some major issues with the logistics of him getting there. A lot of good points versus a lot of bad points settle out to him winding up someone in the middle.

#9: Levi Fontana

With our first single digit number, we’ve also reached our midway point of mastermind candidates: Levi!

Levi would be a really interesting mastermind choice because of how his character centers around grappling with his morality. I think it would be really intriguing to have a mastermind outwardly struggling with their attempts and failures to be a good person throughout the entire game, only for the player and the characters to receive the full context of the debacle at the very end. I guess in this situation, it would be pretty likely that Levi would be redeemed at the end? That’s not necessarily a problem. (Honestly, I don’t know if I think the DRDT mastermind could be redeemed or not based on the fangan’s themes… that’s a post for another day, perhaps.)

Anyways, I think that what we know of Levi’s backstory could work well with him being the mastermind. If he does have the “murderer without remorse” secret, that would be in line with orchestrating a killing game. We also know that he’s “been disowned” and that he and his family were “all bad influences on each other.” We’re meant to assume that Levi was fortunate enough to escape a bad/abusive situation (and in all likelihood this IS what actually happened!!!!), but we are hearing about the situation from his point of view alone. There is a small possibility that, if Levi is actually a despair enjoyer, his family cut him out because they thought he was a danger to their lives.

I will reiterate again, though, that I don’t think this is the case. Levi seems like he’s a chill guy, or at least that he’s trying very hard to be one despite how he’s been told to react all his life. The whole “mastermind wanting to become a good person” lens also makes less sense given how channeled Levi’s development is through Ace. Like, I would imagine that, if this were the angle DRDTdev was going for, Levi would be making an effort to get along with everyone as part of his atonement. The mastermind randomly choosing to focus on just one person out of the crowd seems kind of strange, especially when that person is someone as disagreeable as Ace. That kind of plot would have big “the mafia CEO vampire prince fell head over heels in love with me, the random average girl” vibes. Repenting mastermind Levi is the preferred ending for pining lovers to enemies to lovers AceVi shippers, lol.

And then there’s the part where I think he’s going to die. I don’t think Levi is the worst mastermind choice, but I think there are better out there.

#8: Nico Hakobyan

Yay, we finally got to one of the characters that Anon thought was suspicious! It only took… 7k+ words. Oh boy.

I definitely think that the cat coding is the strongest thing that Nico has going for them. It would be pretty funny if the extent to which “Ultimate Pet Therapist” is relevant to the plot is the climactic reveal that “yeah Nico has been talking to a (robotic) animal the whole time.” That’s a joke, as Ultimate Pet Therapist is already quite relevant to Nico’s characterization as someone who prefers communicating with animals over people, but it would be funny as hell from a character designing perspective.

There are less silly reasons to believe that Nico is the mastermind too, though. While it seems like, similar to David, pulling the trigger on Nico’s change in behavior in Chapter 2 would be a bit early, I don’t think it’s as destructive to mastermind Nico as it is to mastermind David. There’s a lot more doubt in people’s minds that Nico even did anything to Ace, to the extent that a decent number of people (in the story and out of it) think that it was someone else trying to kill Ace entirely. Nico also has a stalwart defender in Hu, which adds an extra level of intrigue to the situation. Instead of confirming that everyone was right to be suspicious of David, at least some amount of focus could be placed onto Hu being wrong for trusting Nico and failing to see someone’s true colors again, which could be interesting for her characterization if she was alive at that point.

On the other hand, the biggest reason that I think Nico isn’t the mastermind is also because of the attempted Ace murder. Why would Nico, as the mastermind, try to kill Ace at this time? If Nico wins the Class Trial, then the killing game is over, which is probably counter to the mastermind’s goals. If Nico loses the Class Trial, well, we’ll say that the possibility of Nico dying isn’t an issue, as they could just fake their own death or deny entering the execution. But still, why?

It could be that Nico was trying to remove themselves from the killing game on purpose, but I don’t see why it would be necessary. No one was particularly suspicious of Nico being the mastermind, and if they were worried about their gender identity getting out, they could have simply made their secret something else. A mastermind could kill to avoid the killing game falling into a standstill, but tensions were really high at the time that Ace almost died! With a full day left to go before the motive secrets were revealed, such drastic action wasn’t yet forced. I guess the best option would be that Nico was just really angered by what Ace said, and wanted to retaliate as part of their vicious mastermind nature. Is that worth taking yourself out of the killing game and risking the show’s termination, though…?

There is also the possibility that Nico is the mastermind, but didn’t try to kill Ace. In that case, suspicion of Nico would be such a huge in-universe coincidence that I’m doubtful DRDTdev would have included it as a major plot point.

Speaking of “show’s termination,” I also don’t know why Nico would have any involvement in creating a TV show, both from a backstory/talent perspective and a personality one. Nico doesn’t like interacting with people. Therefore, I don’t know what would possess them to want to create and join a TV show for which the major draw is a big stressful discussion between a bunch of people.

I guess I had fewer reasons why I thought Nico would be the mastermind than I thought. I would love to hear more details about why you suspect Nico though, Anon! I’m definitely willing to believe that they could be the mastermind.

#7: Eden Tobisa

Make no mistake, I still think that Eden is the Chapter 2 killer. However, in the case that she isn’t… mastermind isn’t a terrible choice for her.

The biggest draw of Eden being the mastermind would definitely be the shock value. The seemingly nicest character suddenly being revealed as the mastermind would create a huge hurdle for the surviving characters to overcome. Teruko especially, given that she probably would have grown at least a tad closer to Eden if they survived five chapters together. It would be a little mean to give Teruko a trustworthy friend just to rip it away from her again, but I could see the opportunity being used to highlight Teruko’s growth. When Xander and Min betrayed Teruko, she panicked and shut everyone out, but when Eden betrays Teruko at the very end, she’s able to remain strong and rely on the other friends who she continues to trust. Or DRDT could have an unconventional feel-bad ending, I suppose.

If some kind of time loop is at play within DRDT, then Eden’s talent would obviously be thematically and perhaps practically relevant as well. I could see a lot of comparisons being made regarding a killing game being run “like clockwork.” Her secret quote “you can’t go back, no matter how hard you try” is... actually kind of anti-time loop, but at least the concept of going back in time is somewhat related…? Speaking of secret quotes, her Mai quote, “she kept calling the number, even though no one picked it up” is also really weird. That suspicious hidden evidence could point to her being the mastermind.

However, Eden’s personality is a pretty major issue when it comes to her being the mastermind. Shock value is great in the moment, but it can ring hollow in retrospect if people find that the twist doesn’t make any sense. Masterminds aren’t typically known for their kindness or optimism. So, if Eden is the mastermind, it seems like her whole “even if this world is cruel, I’ll still make the choice to be kind” speech is a complete lie. And, that would be a shame! I don’t think that having an unexpected mastermind at the end of the game is worth the cost of completely demolishing a character that we’ve come to know and love over the course of six chapters and several years. (I’m not saying that complete demolition has to be the case if Eden is the mastermind, but I think it’s a reasonable worry that many people have.)

And, I know that all this talk about how wonderful Eden is might sound rich coming from someone who strongly believes that she just killed someone who wanted to be her best friend. But, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? As someone who thinks that Eden is the killer, I know very well how a lot of people have a really hard time believing that Eden could do something as terrible as killing Arei. I can only imagine how hard it would be to accept that Eden was the one who put Arei, Min, Teruko, and everyone else in danger, and the one pulling the strings behind every execution.

Eden as the mastermind, to me, is more tempting in concept than it would be viable in execution. And also, I don’t even think she’s going to live to see the light of Chapter 3 day. However, there’s also some definite emotional power behind the accusation that makes me see how shooting for this ambitious choice could be worth it in the long run.

#6: Whit Young

Alright, it’s finally time to talk about Whit. I know that he’s a really popular mastermind choice, but… I just don’t see it, personally. Even though I put him at 6th place. (I do not enjoy putting him in 6th place.) Is that just because he’s my favorite and I’m attached to my interpretation of the character? Perhaps. But, I’d still like to explore some points that I find faulty.

Perhaps the biggest reason behind suspicion of Whit that I’ve seen is the way that he breaks the fourth wall. People connect his asking people to pause for the evidence list to MonoTV invoking similar mechanics, and lines such as “do you really think she’d be hanging out in the playground” to him knowing more than he’s letting on. However, there are a couple of ways that this accusation can be depowered, in my opinion.

Firstly, Whit isn’t the only person who says stuff like this. Veronika alludes to the killing game before it begins, Teruko also breaks the fourth wall to tell the viewer to pause (albeit only in her thoughts, not out loud), and Arei makes the same kind of “hanging” wordplay in Eden’s flashback that Whit did. I won’t say that characters addressing the fourth wall can’t be important at all, because I believe there are some moments where the other characters commentate on how weird it is that MonoTV is talking to no one. However, I also think that breaking the fourth wall may simply be part of DRDTdev’s humor, as exemplified by that “make sure to like and subscribe so that Teruko has enough mental strength to carry on” joke. Whit is a funny guy, so it just makes sense that if DRDTdev’s brain generates funny meta jokes, Whit would get some of them. Everything that Whit says reminds me more of Mia AceAttorney saying “hit tab to open the Court Record” than some sort of groundbreaking DDLC-Undertale direct communication with the viewer. However, I can see why others would think otherwise.

The second is that I think some of Whit’s comments (more so the “dead at 3” and “hanging in the playground” than the pause) are just meant to showcase his intuition. And, yeah, it could be that DRDTdev has been leaving crumbs of Whit’s intuition behind so that in Chapter 6, he can use it to exploit everyone’s insecurities and greatest despair. To me, though, Whit’s intuition has always reminded me of the myth of Cassandra.

For those who don’t know, Cassandra is a figure in Greek mythology who was blessed/cursed to receive prophecies, but for no one to ever believe them. By my interpretation, Whit is a really smart and perceptive guy who has strikingly accurate gut feelings about how things will play out down the road, even when he doesn’t realize it himself. However, the curse of his own coping mechanism– choosing to act like an eternally cheerful goofball– leads the majority of the other students, and perhaps some of the viewers, to never take his point of view seriously. He can only realize the accuracy behind what he said after the bad things have already happened, leading him to blame himself more and more for not being able to speak up and help when times were tough.

This kind of behavior would line up with two different themes we’ve seen from Whit before. The first, that when he jokes around without thinking, he can accidentally say hurtful things that he later reprimands himself for. We saw that when Charles blew up at him at the end of their shared FTE. The second is Whit’s major theme of good things hiding a darker undercurrent. Being the Ultimate Matchmaker is great until you’ve never had a successful relationship yourself. Having an awesome mom is great until the truth comes out that she’s actually dead, and you’ve been covering it up. Growing super close to someone is great until he dies. Having an amazing intuition and understanding of everyone is great until you can never actually use it to help those you care about. Joking around is great until it's all you can do. Pretending everything is fine is great until it’s not.

Like I said, very specific interpretation. I promise I was not citing classical literature to make my argument sound smarter than it actually is. I am aware that my interpretation of Whit is no less or more valid than everyone else’s. However, it’s one that I hold very close to my heart, and thus, I personally have a hard time seeing around it.

However, I’ve also seen a lot of people argue some valid points for Whit, so I can at least acknowledge that he deserves to be in the upper echelon of choices. There’s a lot of weird stuff regarding him in Literature Girl Insane, and he’s certainly an option of someone who felt so much grief that they became totally empty inside as shown in that one hidden quote. I would be appropriately surprised and heartbroken if Whit revealed himself as the mastermind in Chapter 6, so he checks the box in that regard. There isn’t anything from his backstory that opposes the notion that he set up the killing game, and, to quote what I said about our other Ultimate Matchmaker, Toshiko…

While Ultimate Matchmaker might seem like a silly talent to give the mastermind, it could also be a ruse to distract us from the fact that [Whit] has a talent that allows [him] to read people well and make choices that will impact their lives dramatically.

I don’t like it, but I can see the argument… kind of. To me, most mastermind Whit interpretations feel like mischaracterization, but as a theorist, I always try to keep in mind that I’m the one who could be twisting the text to my whims as well. In this my-opinions-based list, though, he’s not getting any higher than 6th.

#5: Veronika Grebenshchikova

Ooh, what spooky art for a spooky mastermind. Let’s be real, though, Veronika is way too obvious of a mastermind candidate to actually be the mastermind. Unless… she’s so obvious that she loops back around to not being obvious, and thus, is the perfect mastermind candidate?!

Veronika is in a really weird place. I obviously have no doubts that she would have any moral qualms about hosting a killing game, because she’s told us herself that she doesn’t. She knows what Monokuma is in immense detail, but claims to have no idea what a killing game is. She’s dressed really similarly to Junko, though. Is that just a coincidence? Are giant pigtails also a symbol of fear in the DRDTverse? I need ANSWERS, LADY!!!

The biggest problem I see with Veronika is the potential for obviousness. Similar to Arturo, if she actually made it to Chapter 6, I feel like it would be pretty obvious what’s going on. An oddball like Veronika is not the typical survivor type (although she could break the mold). Because Teruko’s character arc is all about trusting people, it would make sense if the reveal of the mastermind was someone who challenged her trust to some degree. With Veronika being obviously unhinged the whole time, I don’t think that Teruko would have any particular difficulties with kicking her to the curb.

However, Veronika clearly has the motive to start a killing game, and potentially to spread despair. DRDT has taken inspiration from Trigger Happy Havoc in the past, so it could make sense if DRDT’s mastermind was also inspired by THH’s. Having a so-obvious-it’s-not-obvious mastermind could also be another way to mess with theorists like me, as DRDTdev did with the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane. “bro Veronika being the mastermind would be WAY too obvious” sounds EXACTLY like “I just hope XXXXXX doesn’t go crazy and kill in chapter 3. That would be way too predictable” or “XXXXX will obviously die in ch5”. If part of the point of DRDT is to make know-it-all analysts rethink the rules they believe to be set in stone, I could see Veronika as a subversive choice.

Veronika definitely seems to be building up to something, but I don’t know if being the mastermind is exactly it. I think that Veronika could make it pretty late into the game, but I still struggle to see her making it all the way to Chapter 6. I would absolutely love to see what DRDTdev does with her writing if that is the case, though. 

#4: Mai Akasaki

(Well, now I feel bad that I’ve never made a colored portrait of Mai.)

As you may have noticed back at our first entry, Arei, I started the countdown off at seventeen, not sixteen. (If you didn’t remember that, I don’t blame you– it was a WHILE ago.) That’s because I thought it was only fair to include DRDT’s best kept(?) secret, the lovely Unnamed Student herself, Mai Akasaki, as an option! Because, man, is she mysterious in some suspicious ways.

“But, didn’t MonoTV tell the students that the mastermind was one of them? Mai isn’t one of the students in the killing game (unless prosopagnosia is REALLY going crazy), so she can’t be the mastermind, right?” Well, yes and no. The scene where MonoTV confirms the existence of the mastermind is SUPER weird. Let’s take a look at it.

On one hand, MonoTV is still in the Movie Screening Room, where it was JUST talking to the student body, so it would only stand to reason that it’s a continuation of the scene we just saw. However, the setting also seems to be doing everything in its power to tell us that this is NOT the same scene we just saw. The lights have been turned off, even though they were on in the scene just before this. They return to being on in the first scene of Chapter 1, which the students treat as being directly after the scene during which the lights were on before. The widget denoting the time, chapter, and episode has completely disappeared, placing this at an even more unknown time than “Time Unknown.” The text indicating that the speaker is MonoTV has even disappeared! I mean, I assume that MonoTV is still the one saying it, considering that it’s on screen and the speech bubble is pointing right at it, but we don’t even know that for sure!

Additionally, MonoTV refers to the viewers directly (“dear viewers”) two speech bubbles after this one, which makes it seem more like MonoTV is talking to us the audience rather than the students in the room. But then, if the mastermind is “one of you,” and MonoTV is talking to us, wouldn’t that mean the mastermind is someone in the audience? That could lead in to some really meta interpretations of the text (i.e. “DRDTdev is the mastermind of DRDT because he’s the one who created the killing game”) or it could indicate that I’ve gone fully off the rails. 

A midpoint between those two ideas is that the mastermind is part of the in-universe audience watching the killing game, as in, a fictional character who is watching the real-to-them TV show that is Danganronpa: Despair Time. That could include Mai, a very notable character who is not one of the sixteen participants in the killing game.

Side note, I’ve seen some people fight back against the concept that Mai could be the mastermind with the idea that making the mysterious character the mastermind would be too obvious. While I sort of agree, I feel like we’re somewhat overestimating the extent to which Mai is obvious. It’s not like no casual viewers would know who she is, because her image was shown pretty obviously in Chapter 1. However, the name “Mai Akasaki” is only accessible by finding the hidden quotes on the optional associated website’s character profiles. To learn anything about her beyond that, you have to have the thought to type the name into the website URL, and then solve another puzzle just to see the bare bones of what’s there.

I’m not trying to assert any sort of dominance or superiority over DRDT fans on YouTube, Twitter, TikTok, or anything else, but from what I’ve gathered, Tumblr is the place you want to go for deep analysis and theories on DRDT (possibly because of Tumblr’s longer word count). Therefore, anything about DRDT that may seem like common knowledge on Tumblr may only be common knowledge to the fans who specifically bothered to come to the deep lore and crack theories website to find deep lore and crack theories. Essentially, this:

Sort of similar to what Gravity Falls did with the reveal of Bill Cipher back in 2012 (at least I think, I wasn’t actually in the Gravity Falls fandom at that time), I think it would be reasonable to plant clues about an overarching villain that people who want to analyze can analyze ahead of time, such that the villain’s arrival can come as a victory to the puzzle solvers and an exciting new development to the more casual viewers.

However, while I believe that Mai has an awesome setup that she could use to become the mastermind, whether she would actually fit the role is another question entirely. As I alluded to back in the first Mai paragraph, I’m rolling with the widely held (among theorizers) belief that the Unnamed Student in Xander and Min’s bonus episodes is supposed to be Mai. In those episodes, Mai seems to be incredibly caring, peppy, and sweet. She knows a ton of little heartwarming details about Min and Xander, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same is shown to be true with Arei and whoever else’s bonus episodes in the future. Those hidden quotes on Mai’s profile also give off the impression that everyone in the cast really loves Mai– one could call them a “portrait of a person dearly loved,” perhaps.

While it’s possible that these scenes are supposed to highlight Mai’s social prowess and how much she can get people to fall in love with her, they… don’t really seem to be giving off those vibes. We see her thoughts in those bonus videos, and she really does seem to be dedicated to helping Min and Xander out. Mai’s change from someone who wanted nothing more than to help out her friends to someone who was willing to throw all of them into the killing game is something that would have to be explained, and it could be difficult to communicate that shift within the confines of bonus material, if Mai’s content is mostly kept there. There is the concept that Mai could have put her friends into a killing game to protect them somehow, which could be a way to avoid Mai’s character seemingly doing a total 180, but that rationale would need a lot of explanation too.

Otherwise, there’s also the problem that Mai is almost certainly dead. I won’t get super into it myself, because the amazing @1moreff-creator has already done a great job explaining why here (starts in the XI. God is Dead section). I don’t think I need to elaborate on why Mai being dead potentially before the killing game even began would be detrimental to the idea of her being the mastermind.

To be honest, I don’t know how much this idea actually makes sense. I think I’m personally more inclined to believe that Mai could be the mastermind just because I really don’t get mastermind vibes from pretty much anybody in the cast. If the mastermind simply wasn’t one of the members of the main cast, that could solve that issue, right…? Mai is very likely involved in the inception of the killing game somehow, so extending that role to one of being the mastermind isn’t the biggest stretch. However, her personality and living status do throw in some pretty big question marks, so I don’t think she should go any higher.

#3: Teruko Tawaki

Teruko was definitely the first character who I believed could be the mastermind after I watched the series for the first time. However, over time, I’ve sort of fallen off of the idea that she would be. Is that because I’m forgetting key details of the plot, or because I’m drifting closer to the truth…? Honestly, I have no idea.

Let’s start with the strongest “evidence” we have against Teruko, her motive secret: “How could I even select which secret to make your motive? Just about everything you’ve done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault.” Although “the killing game [being] all [Teruko’s] fault” sounds pretty damning, there’s the obvious counterargument to be made that this isn’t even Teruko’s motive. In fact, the board currently shows it assigned to Xander. However, the majority of people (including myself) seem to believe that David was lying, and this secret is Teruko’s. So, let’s analyze under that assumption.

Teruko did admit to Veronika that she doesn’t know what secret could be used as her motive because there were so many. Even if that motive secret isn’t hers, that still means that Teruko has done a lot of shady stuff. Teruko’s decision to live on set forever could line up with the mastermind's goal of wanting to keep the cameras rolling as well. The very first scene of DRDT shows that someone who wants the killing game to end also wants Teruko dead, which implies that Teruko and the killing games are on the same side.

Teruko also has a prior history of concealing things about herself from us, the viewing audience. We knew basically nothing about her past or trust issues before Xander stabbed her, causing her sudden change in attitude to come as a blindside. Teruko apparently has a “risky” killing game-ending plan in mind for the end of the second Class Trial that she’s told us absolutely nothing about. And, most notably, Teruko clearly knows things about Mai that she’s decided not to share with viewers at home. (I do believe that Teruko genuinely can’t remember Mai’s name, but she does remember that Mai is similar to Xander and wanted to help, which is more than anything we would have known from the main text on our own).

Point is, DRDT is written in a way where we don’t hear a ton of Teruko’s thoughts. That would make it much easier for her to scheme something behind the scenes, as opposed to someone who we get a lot of emotional reactions or logical theorizing from. It’s actually kind of similar to the difference between Kaede and Shuichi’s styles of narration, as pointed out by ShortOneGaming in their impeccable v3 playthrough! I recommend watching their entire letsplay if you're in the mood for v3, but I found one time where they talked about this concept here. I’ll transcribe it for anyone who doesn’t want to open YouTube right now:

Gina: I do want to call– as my final sort of note– what’s interesting is that you called out immediately that Kaede’s narration was weird. That, it was always, like– dictation? Allison: Yes! Gina: It’s always, like, speaking directly to a person– Allison: Yes! Yes, I did say– It never really felt like actual internal monologue. Like, she never was expressing her thoughts or anything to us. I mean, yes, she was, but then there were those weird moments where she was, like… y’know, hiding it from the player, and… probably from herself, too, to some extent. Like, she was just like, “and then I had to go do this thing.” Um, and like, “we won’t really address how I’m feeling about this.” Gina: Yep. Allison: And at the same time, it hides it from the– the player. And that was very clever. Really good. I mean, her– yeah, her narration was always kind of weird. But, she did have moments where she had internal reflection.

Hopefully, you can see the comparison. By putting a greater emphasis on actions as opposed to what Teruko is feeling (“I kneeled down and touched his neck” after finding Ace’s presumed-dead body; “Everyone else started filtering in” when people walk into the Playground and find Arei’s corpse), it becomes much easier to have Teruko hide exactly what she knows or exactly how she feels about certain events. It’s actually the opposite of the kind of narration that Damon had (“I’m trapped in a killing game… with people who despise me. How… how did this happen? I just wanted to help… I wanted to make sure we didn’t trust each other too easily… and now I’m being treated like the bad guy” after the 0th Class Trial) that made me believe he wasn’t the mastermind!

So, do I think that Teruko would be a mastermind who remembers, or a mastermind who forgot? Well, I could kind of see it either way. Personally, I think that Teruko being a mastermind whose memories are intact is the more interesting version, and I do believe it’s possible. I also don’t understand why someone with as many trust issues as Teruko has would want to remove her own memories if it weren’t necessary. Then again, Teruko being an amnesiac mastermind could make up for some of the… issues that arise with her as a mastermind candidate.

What? She’s in third place, not first. Despite how long I’ve already talked about Teruko, there’s still more to say!

First, the problems if Teruko did retain her memories: why would she ask MonoTV about the mastermind’s identity when the two were alone? Why would she be creating a plan to end the killing game? Why would she pretend to not know who Mariabella Rosales was even though everyone else clearly knew?

And then, the problems that persist even if Teruko did lose her memories: where would Teruko have gotten the resources to plan a killing game of this caliber? Even if she had them, why would she use it on this? Assuming that secret is hers, why would she write that about herself in a plausibly public place (beyond the swapping, Arei looked over Whit’s shoulder)?

Oh yeah, back to that secret. Just because “the killing game is all [Teruko’s] fault” doesn’t mean that she’s the one who planned it. In fact, the wording sounds very accusatory and hostile for something that Teruko would have theoretically written to herself. From the first scene, we already know that there is a person or group of people somewhere who are out to get Teruko. It could make more sense if that entity is the mastermind, and wrote the secret to blame Teruko for whatever she did that got her on their bad side.

There’s probably more to be said, but hopefully you can see why I have so many mixed feelings about Teruko. I definitely think she’s one of the more likely mastermind candidates out there, but I still don’t know exactly how likely that is, y’know?

#2: Rose Lacroix

Once upon a time, a wise and powerful theory alchemist known only by the epithet @1moreff-creator postulated that Rose could be the mastermind of Despair Time, and then never elaborated on the idea at all. For centuries (a couple of weeks) the townsfolk (me) were baffled by these dark and mysterious ramblings. However, as seasons passed by, as travelers came and went, as the tide advanced to kiss the land before slinking back to its home once more– the idea… started making more and more sense?

Rose is a really smart character who has already shown her proficiency in Class Trials. In the first, she utilized her ability to perfectly capture the scene and her knowledge of chromatography. Although her talents haven’t been as useful so far in the second, she’s still managed to keep up with the conversation despite never looking at the scene of the crime. Thus, I can see why, from a writing perspective, DRDTdev would choose to make his mastermind the Ultimate Art Forger.

There’s also the angle that Rose is a criminal, and therefore could be willing to do illegal or immoral things. However, she does seem to be pretty remorseful about it, and she’s already been caught for her criminal behavior before. Unfortunately for her, her relationship with her saviors the Spurlings only makes her all the more suspicious. Even if Rose didn’t want to be the mastermind of a killing game, if the Spurlings forced her to do it, she might have not had a choice. (Xander is very against the Spurlings… Xander is bloody hands guy → stop the killing game → stop the Spurlings?)

I also like the angle of “the Spurlings forced her to do it” because of what I talked about back in Mai’s section– the concept of the mastermind not being among the students. In Rose’s case, you can get the best of both worlds. The entity behind the killing game, the Spurling Foundation, would be a group outside of the killing game for MonoTV to contact, but there would still be a student among the cast’s ranks to suspect and accuse come Chapter 6.

What’s the argument against Rose? Well, I would ask why Rose would want to put herself in this kind of situation, but if it was the Spurlings’ choice, then that explains that. You could say Rose has been too helpful to be a bad guy, but everything she’s done so far has been to help the students win a Class Trial. That keeps the killing game running, which keeps the show on. The biggest problem I’m thinking of at the moment is the notion that the Spurling Foundation would have chosen to make Rose’s secret about how her backstory led her into their clutches. However, the secret doesn’t actually acknowledge the Spurlings by name, and it also frames Rose’s crimes in a way that makes her look like a good person– the opposite of what someone would think of as a mastermind. The secret was also only intended for Rose’s eyes, so it could have functioned as more of a low-key threat to remind her why she needs to stay in line.

Shouldn’t all of this talk of Rose lacking agency make her a bad mastermind candidate, though? If a villain doesn’t even believe in their villainous motivations, the story could end on a really flat note, with the good guys steamrolling an evildoer who doesn’t really care. How are we supposed to reach a satisfying conclusion if the mastermind hardly has anything to be held accountable for?

Those are normally things I would argue, but as many have pointed out, Teruko isn’t a normal protagonist. Actually, I think that this kind of mastermind setup for Rose could be a great way to end Teruko’s arc about learning to trust other people. Rose is the mastermind, somebody who shouldn’t be trusted…! It would be so easy for Teruko to just crush this person who betrayed her into dust– Rose isn’t even putting up much of a fight. But in the end, Teruko will choose to be patient, and see that Rose never wanted to betray Teruko. Even if her actions wound up hurting Teruko and many others, she still deserves a second chance, or at least a second evaluation.

As you saw in the death predictions, I obviously believe that Rose has the potential to make a late game run, whether as a survivor or something else. Writing all of this out, I can see even more clearly why Rose just might be the DRDT mastermind. However, despite all that I wrote, the idea still feels kinda more like a fun AU than the actual truth to me…? So, I still think there’s one person whose chances I like slightly better.

#1: J Rosales

Whaddya know, J’s personal ??? tier catapulted her into the lead. It is probably true that my uncertainty about where she might land is contributing to me deeming her the mastermind– it’s a really weird space in the kill order, as someone who survives long enough to theoretically have a positive character arc while sometimes not being counted among the survivors at the end.

Part of why I put J this high is that I really like the theory of J being the mastermind along with her brother, Ryan. Sadly, I cannot find any of the original theories that postulated this idea to link to, so I’ll try my best to explain what I remember myself. Basically, some people found the scene in c1e4 where Rose doesn’t remember who J is suspicious. They combined this scene with J’s younger brother, Ryan, and J’s talent, the Ultimate Effects Artist, to suggest that J could be using her FX talents to disguise Ryan as herself and have them occasionally trade places. From this Q&A, one of the few things we know about Ryan is that he enjoys crossdressing, which furthers the idea that he could enjoy pretending to be J. Ryan is also (to my memory) the only DRDT character’s sibling whose name we have seen in the main text, which could indicate that he’s more important than Arei’s sisters, Levi’s brothers, or other potential siblings.

I think it’s a really fun idea that I would at the very least want to see come to fruition, regardless of how likely it is. If J was working with Ryan, you can once again repeat the argument that there’s both a mastermind for MonoTV to talk to outside the game and one to be accused within the game. The biggest issue with it is that I don’t know how Arturo wouldn’t see the differences between the two, even if Rose may have. Maybe if J and Ryan haven’t swapped since the Rosales secret got out, and won’t swap again until Arturo dies…? I don’t know, I’m getting ahead of myself.

The thing is, other than just being a unique and interesting concept, I’m not really sure what the point of having J and Ryan swap would be, in universe or out of it. (This is why I wish I could’ve found a link to the original theorist... :,( ) My best argument for in universe would be that there are some things that only J has the skill to do, her being the Ultimate Effects Artist while Ryan is not. However, they couldn’t just have Ryan be the one in the killing game full-time, because he’s too young and therefore wouldn’t have been part of the original Hope’s Peak class. Thus, there are some points in time where J needs to be working behind the scenes (like on the executions or something), and during those intervals, Ryan subs in. Metatextually, I guess it could show how every person in the entertainment industry can be cutthroat, or that every child of a celebrity is bound to get messed up about it somehow…?

Regardless, even if Ryan isn’t involved at all, there are plenty of reasons to suspect J on her own. Ultimate Effects Artist is a highly suspicious talent when it comes to the deception of a killing game (just check out how many people think J already used it to kill Arei), and in connecting her to Hollywood. J may claim to specialize in theater as opposed to television, but 1) she could have been lying, or 2) that could be true, but she’s making an exception this time. Even if she normally works in live theater, if you were a TV executive approached by the daughter of Mariabella Rosales who is also a Hope’s Peak Ultimate student in her own right, would you really turn her away…?

J’s custom weapon is also pretty suspicious. Even if it doesn’t seem to be able to trigger traps like the one used on Levi (though that could be another lie), I could still see it being pretty helpful for subtly operating MonoTV, turning on a monitor, starting an execution, or stuff like that. Charles essentially confirms that the custom weapons were in the students’ rooms since they all woke up, which means that J could have had this remote on her the entire time.

J’s relationships also seem potentially mastermind-y. Thus far, the two characters with which she’s been associated most are Arei and Arturo. Those two (at least, prior to Arei’s change of heart) have been so clearly villainous and hateful that J would obviously look like a nice person in comparison. Why is this helpful? It means that J can get away with doing more objectionable things without raising any huge red flags. If J is the mastermind, we can look back on her demolition of Arturo in the Chapter 2 Trial as a brief early glimpse into how cruel she can really be. But, for the moment, although it’s definitely memorable, many people (including myself) can react to it with a, “yeah, but based on what Arturo was doing to her, it’s kinda justified…” (Not saying it isn’t somewhat justified either way, just that it could also be something more.)

J could also have a range of motivations related to her hatred for her mom. Maybe she’s trying to turn people against the Rosales name to ruin Mariabella’s reputation. Maybe this killing game is a plan to finally have a big artistic success all on her own (or with Ryan) to prove her mom wrong. Maybe she thinks that a world so enamored with fame and glamor deserves to rot in a pit of despair. I don’t know which of these options would be the most likely, but I could see how any of them could be possible explanations for how J got to this point.

I think my biggest argument against J once again comes back to the “why”. I think that J has a lot of potential to be a good mastermind, but I don’t know if that carries over to being a good mastermind for Teruko. Unlike with Rose, I don’t have a good sense of how J being the mastermind would tie into a satisfying ending to Teruko’s trust arc.

@venus-is-thinking and I sometimes like to run randomized killing games as a fun writing exercise (randomize the cast, motives, and mastermind; see where it takes you), and we’ve generally found that the most compelling protagonist-mastermind duos either have the protagonist sharing the same worldview with the mastermind, or being the only person who believes the opposite.

If the protagonist starts with the same beliefs as the mastermind, then defeating the mastermind is a showcase of the protagonist’s development. Hajime and Izuru work as protagonist and mastermind because Izuru is the manifestation of Hajime’s belief that only talented people are important and can make an impact on the world. By renouncing Izuru, Hajime proves that he’s learned that anyone has the chance to change their future if they put in the effort. 

If the protagonist has the opposite opinions from the mastermind, then it proves how crucial the protagonist is to the narrative because they are the only one who could deliver the critical message. A great example of this is Shuichi and Tsumugi. When Tsumugi tries to set up the conflict of “hope good, despair bad” that will keep the killing games going, all of the other surviving students fall for it. Shuichi being the only character who has spent the entire game learning the importance of balancing two extremes makes his callout of Tsumugi incredibly satisfying, and justifies the protagonist swap by proving that Shuichi is the only hero who could have saved this day.

That’s why I think that J would be a great mastermind for a protagonist who has issues with family or stardom, but might not be the best choice for a story with Teruko at the helm. Those are only my observations, though, so I’d understand if DRDTdev planned things differently.

And that is finally the end! Here’s the final tierlist I wound up working off of, which I fiddled with a TON while writing:

(It’s based off of Ocean Unknown’s tierlist!)

Since this has already gone on so long, I’ll try to keep the conclusion brief. Please take all of this with a grain of salt, as I wound up making a lot of claims about writing that don’t necessarily have the strongest foundation. I didn’t write anything that I think is blatantly false, obviously, but whether it’s good advice or not doesn’t necessarily mean that DRDTdev considered it. We may have different priorities in telling a compelling story. And, we’re less than two chapters in! Even the end of the Chapter 2 trial could throw a positive or negative wrench in any of these profiles.

Thank you so much for reading through this whole thing, and if you got through it and still have anything you want me to elaborate on further (a specific character, a specific theory, a specific aspect of fangan writing, etc), I would be happy to do so. I, uh, really hope that this answered the question that Anon asked, haha. Until next time… stay wary. There could be masterminds lurking about...!

[schraubd]

Do Republicans Care That Trump Admires Hitler?

The Atlantic's bombshell story this week was that Donald Trump expressed an admiration for Hitler, saying "I need the kind of generals Hitler had." This had been reported before, but the confirmation by former Trump Chief of Staff John Kelly gave an extra boost of confirmation from Trump's inner-most circle. How are Republicans responding to the news? In a variety of ways. Door #1, from the Trump campaign itself, is just to declare it all a lie: Trump’s campaign categorically denied The Atlantic’s reporting and blamed Harris for encouraging Trump’s assassination. Steven Cheung, a campaign spokesman, said Harris “continues to peddle outright lies and falsehoods that are easily disproven. The fact is that Kamala’s dangerous rhetoric is directly to blame for the multiple assassination attempts against President Trump and she continues to stoke the flames of violence all in the name of politics.” I actually respect this response the most, since it at least concedes the premise that Trump being pro-Hitler is a bad development that should be shunned.  Not every Republican agrees. Behind Door #2 is New Hampshire Governor Chris Sununu, who said that Trump supporting Hitler is "baked-in to the vote at this point." In other words, Republicans already had figured Trump was a Hitler supporter and were fine with it. No surprises here. And then finally, there's Fox News' Brian Kilmeade, who's response was to say "actually, Trump was making a good point!" On Fox News, anchor Brian Kilmeade said Trump was justifiably frustrated by aides who refused to carry out orders they deemed illegal. Kilmeade said, “I can absolutely see him go, ‘It’d be great to have German generals that actually do what we ask them to do,’ maybe not fully being cognizant of the third rail of German generals who were Nazis or whatever.” "...or whatever," indeed. What sort of president wouldn't want generals who blindly follow executive orders to commit the most horrific atrocities humanity has ever witnessed? (Answer: the sort of president who isn't interested in replicating the most horrific atrocities humanity has ever witnessed). Meanwhile, yesterday on Bluesky I snarked that I couldn't wait for the inevitable "Jonathan Greenblatt response that contains three paragraphs of effusive praise for Trump’s allyship towards the Jewish community sandwiching a vague gesture that 'this sort of rhetoric isn’t helpful.'" That drew off of this post which observed how Greenblatt's recent treatment of Trump has been defined by a fundamental trust in Trump as a true "ally of the Jews," the commitment to which he regrettably occasionally falls short of realizing. So was my prediction on Greenblatt's response correct? Answer: We don't know, because as far as I can tell the ADL hasn't issued a statement on this news at all! What a sterling performance by America's preeminent antisemitism watchdog. via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/p7WQjYc