#you really do not get more underdog than this

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay, this is the conclusion to my posts about Sophia Stewart. I'll never do something like this again

Everything I've posted is from her own book or her web presence btw. That's all I'm drawing from and if anyone tells me any information about her they gained any other way I'll block them immediately so uh, don't

Towards the end she reveals some of her other pitches. By showing she copywrote sequels to the Matrix and Terminator

Lots of strange details here - she wrote The Matrix 4 in 2000? They didn't even start filming The Matrix 2 & 3 until 2001. Also, we can see in this book that her pitch has nothing to do with The Matrix or Terminator, but she claims she wrote direct sequels to both?

(Her explanation for how both very different films are ripping off her work - a 1:1 copy, she claims - is, hilariously, that The Terminator plagiarizes it front to back, while The Matrix plagiarizes it back to front. What?)

But also she didn't write it. She registered copyright on a synopsis for The Matrix 4. She has concepts of a plan for a Matrix 4.

The book ends with a pitch for another...she calls it a book, but it's a movie pitch? And this, too, is just a synopsis for some grand epic series, light on detail of character and plot and heavy with lore and rants (in this case, primarily about God and Adam & Eve). Of course her exhaustively long but barely sketched-out epic movie pitch has a prologue, which is also full of Christian-tinged Ancient Aliens pyramid power woo.

Sophia Stewart is unimportant, bc she represents a class of writer. Writers who have Ideas. Who have outlines and plot points but no real story, bc they never write it. But they think just having Really Good Ideas is enough - that you should get credit for coming up with a good idea for a story, regardless of if you make an actual story out of it. They're a "writer", but they never write. Despite this they often have a deep case of Dunning-Kruger, churning out outlines that leave out basic details like "what happens in the climactic battle" and the personalities of characters while insisting that an inability to author anything shouldn't keep you from being praised as a genius author

If that type of person is lucky enough to have money, they become a studio executive or tech guy, both professions awash in the uncreatively creative, or they hire ghostwriters. If they're not, they become the type of person to file spurious lawsuits under the misapprehension they own basic plot concepts. It's the "I coulda made the majors!" of writing, except, you know. Baseball players who didn't make the majors still actually played baseball at some point. I assume from now on all those types will just pump their outline into ChatGPT and try to sell the gunk it slops out and then claim they 'wrote' it so uh, uhhhhhhhhhhhh

The only reason I made these posts was discovering the conspiratorial angle to her work, bc who cares if a major studio has to deal with a spurious lawsuit? That was the part that actually sucks. But also, she does a lot of press: profiles on news websites, podcasts, that documentary was even made by other filmmakers, who actually make films. It's persisted from blogs and chain emails all the way to podcasts and TikToks. All of this uncritically spreads her story, but I also have to ask: how many actual African-American science fiction writers do those platforms profile? How many of them get documentaries made about their work? How much air is being sucked out of the room by the decades long misinformation about the "true" creator of The Matrix? And why is that misinformation so persistent when it takes a trivial amount of effort to find out it just isn't true? It feels good to support the underdog against the big studio, but in this case it just isn't true.

The sad truth is a lot more Hollywood plagiarism cases look like this than are real exposures of wrongdoing, but people tend to accept them at face value since they feel like a little guy taking on a corporation, though in reality it's just two writers suing each other. Take The Holdovers case, where people immediately turned on it, but if you look into it, the two scripts have very little in common, and the accusing writer makes odd claims like a human character in The Holdovers being a ripoff of a billboard in his script.

Or look at Groundhog Day, which was accused of plagiarism by Richard A. Lupoff, writer of the story "12:01 P.M.". The two stories have nothing in common besides a time loop; in Groundhog Day he's reliving a day, in 12:01 PM he's reliving an hour. Groundhog Day is a romcom, 12:01 P.M. plays it for horror. Groundhog Day never reveals the source of its lop but it's clearly fantastical in nature, 12:01 P.M. is explicitly science fiction. In Groundhog Day he escapes the loop, in 12:01 P.M. he never does. You can't deny Lupoff felt personally slighted, but at the end of the day, a world where a writer could own the concept of time loops would be a dystopia where creativity and art would die.

But even though they were wrong, The Holdovers & Groundhog Day cases were based on real works of writing that existed. They were based on a real, if misguided, sense of violation from the writers. But in this case, we have a mere outline of a story with not even basic similarities to the stories she's claiming are a 1:1 copy of her work, and decades of media appearances based on exploiting a community college media student's mistake in 2004. Anyway seems bad

[constelationprize]

A background detail in the books that facinates me is that the Foxes were on the verge of being dismantled. And by detail I mean that it's a fact so widely known that we hear about it from chapter 1, just as passive knowledge Neil has before even dreaming of playing with them.

It ends up staying fairly background because Neil has... Bigger worries, but it is very much present for the whole series. There are plenty of descriptions of how Palmetto thought the Foxes would breathe life into the town; How Wymack lives practically alone in one of the apartment complexes built out of the expectation.

For four years, the Foxes placed dead last, and if they do it again, they ARE getting demoted from Class I. Of the original team, there was only Seth left. And if you do the math, that means that people were leaving up until the semester before TFC begins, because there are nine players including Kevin, who was an assistant coach, and Neil is replacing another recruit. Seth's death brings them down to nine again, and the ERC's response to that is to start a discussion on whether the minimum number of players should go up to 12. If it weren't for the intervetion of Coach Rhemann, they would have gotten disqualified anyway when Andrew went to Easthaven. PSU was against signing the girls, and both the university and the ERC fought back against making Dan captain.

They are not only fighting for their lives out here, they are straight up losing.

That puts a lot of things into perspective, I think. For one, I think it really explains a lot about Kevin's relationship to the Foxes. Like, imagine knowing your second – your last – chance at a life is under threat, and out of nowhere, the best player in your league offers to help you. And then he does it by saying all the effort you've made up until now was useless, that all your fighting wasn't enough. I'd resent him too.

It also says very interesting things both about who Wymack is as a person and exactly how big of a deal he must have been as a player, that he keeps facing these incredible odds and getting just one more chance. And even when he knows he's running out of strings to pull, he keeps on, because "one more chance" is what his team is supposed to be about anyway.

And then they turn around and not only break their own records by making past the first rounds, they go all the way up and dethrone the undefeated champion of their league for first place. It's no wonder not even they believed they could do it.

[kacievvbbbb]

Honestly despite my feelings about how the last arc of MHA went down I really love Deku and his story.

I just feel like a lot of the time we get these protagonists whose whole philosophy is it doesn’t matter what you were born as everyone can achieve greatness. But then the series goes on and it turns out that actually it DOES matter because the protagonist has this really great lineage and these really great powers you can only have through birth they were actually born born, predestined if you will, to do this.

But MHA actually sticks to its guns. Midoriya wasn’t revealed to have some great connection to all might that the universe had put in place. He wasn’t defended from some great lineage that makes him uniquely suited to this. Hell All for one didn’t even turn out to be his father, there was no hidden powerful quirk he was always meant to have. He was just Midoriya Izuku a boy who was in the right place at the right time and simply decided to act while the world did nothing. And that’s what really made him a hero.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I believe him a bit more when he goes anybody can be a hero if you just decide to act

[sysig]

Totally unaffected by this gesture of affection, definitely (Patreon)

[meowchela]

thinking about the running joke in dorabase where suzu is constantly getting mike wazowski'd and while its a good bit that i like, i also can't help but think about what thats been doing to his psyche

like. honestly its part of why i like him so much, he's a genuinely capable player and has a good number of standout moments but they're all undercut by the fact that nobody ever gets to see them/he never gets appreciated or even seen for what he does. do you think that gets to him??? like hes clearly dejected when he sees how nobodys rly reconizing him and i think after a while thats gonna get internalized hard. like i dont think it'll affect him on the field because hes a determined team player but his self esteem and interpersonal relationships are gonna suffer a LOT if he keeps getting treated like that......like if you feel invisible its very easy to start isolating yourself because whos gonna notice yknow. add on the fact that hes a servant robot (for a rich family yes, but considering we havent even seen his owners they probably dont treat him as anything but a product either.....like compared to kuro and hyoro, when we see those two's home lives its a very close familial bond but the one time we see into suzus house we just see another butler with his owners nowhere to be found??? like even chibi has his owner shown once so we know he exists but suzu's are mentioned but never shown so. the whole "not being seen" extends to his home life too no doubt) AND ALSO that hes shown to be sensitive and crumbles under presure easily (example: when he got stressed and cried during wabc and hyoro had to snap him out of it) i really really really domt think his mental state is doing too well

like my brother in christ your sense of self is probably Horrible for so so many reasons

its even more intruiging because outwardly he seems fine and i think thats def playing a part im things. like he just blends into the background so well and he's so polite that he wont wanna disturb anyone with his problems but that In Itself is the problem!!!!! he probably underestimates his own importance a lot because hell everyone else kinda does too and i can def see that leading to him closing off internally

idk its late and im having a lot of thoughts but not much is coming out comprehensive esp bc suzu is mostly a secondary character who has few moments of focus but like. his inner machinations are so fascinating to me and i love atudying him under a microscope

[thekidsare-not-alright]

I think some mcr fans would rather die than acknowledge that the break up helped cement their legacy and popularity. everyone loves a martyr/what they can't get more of, yknow. it's a fact of life

[animentality]

deadpool is sort of the last movie I would've expected to draw back the old marvel charm, and remind you why its movies were so successful in the first place.

it has all the foundations, you know.

cameos based on pure nostalgia, self aware humor, the big epic action set pieces, and endless CGI.

things that got ruined in all of the other mediocre movies that plagued phase 4, and damaged the brand's reputation with audiences.

but deadpool being the movie to bring back that special feeling, of like, seeing a movie that's both good AND fits into a multiverse, but without being completely dragged into it...

it's just nuts that it was DEADPOOL of all things to do it.

Deadpool's not kid friendly, which is basically Disney's entire brand, especially when it comes to Marvel. He's openly pansexual, a concept that terrifies the Russo brothers and Disney execs.

It also married nostalgia to its main plot, AND played up the nostalgia of the Fox version of the X-men, as an homage/farewell to Fox.

Which I really wasn't expecting. Like Disney is trying to bury the old X men.

Writing them a love letter, and still making fun of them, was just so out of left field.

I guess it's just surprising that it was Deadpool and Wolverine to bring back classic Marvel, because it was this underdog, that no one expected to be popular from the very beginning.

It coming back to save the MCU...

Yeah.

Deadpool being Marvel Jesus...fitting in more ways than one.

Well done, Deadpool.

You did get the last laugh...didn't you?

[luveline]

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

Eddie asks you out on your very first date, indulging you in huge philly cheesesteaks, a vanilla milkshake (with two straws), a largely neglected bucket of popcorn, and a sugary first kiss. requested here. shy fem!reader, 3.2k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

I'm actually going to die here, you think morosely. 

This was a very bad idea on your part, and perhaps a worse one on his. What possessed Eddie —ripped jeaned, silver-chained, aspiring heavy metal rockstar Eddie— to ask you on a date? Perhaps you'd appeared more formidable outside of Hawkins library than you usually did.

You were in a particularly bad mood after a chilly fall afternoon spent checking the quality of the returns, and the prospect of walking home in the cold was a dismal one. You'd been glaring at nothing when a big, hulking bucket of a van slowed to a crawl beside you, thumping bass leaking from the closed window. It rolled down, the music quieting with it, and out came a head of inky dark curls. 

"Hey, sweetheart," Eddie said, pet name rolling around in his mouth, "you heading home? Do you want a ride? It's a long walk." 

Somewhere between the library and your driveway, Eddie asked you on a date. You genuinely can't remember what you talked about or how it happened, your adrenaline high enough you could've used it to climb Everest. You do remember the quiet way he'd asked, as though he was waiting for an impending rejection, and his smile bordering goofy when you breathed out, "Yeah, okay." 

You rub at the seam of your cream sweater over and over, the pad of your thumb numb. The wind runs through you, ruffling the skirt of your black dress against your thighs. I'm an idiot, you think. Hypothermia might kill you if your racing heart doesn't. 

Eddie holds a similar sentiment, "What the fuck are you doing out here?" 

You flinch embarrassingly hard. He wasn't there a moment ago. Eddie cusses and holds his hands out to you before you can slip backward off of the low brick wall you'd been waiting on, his fingers shooting tingles down into the epidermis of your skin like wild golden sparks where they grab you, hoisting you up into a more secure standing position. 

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Like, really really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, just– it's like, minus ten out here? What are you doing?" 

"I–" You give him a more petrified look than you mean to. "You said to meet you here?" 

Does he not want you here? Was it a joke?

Eddie laughs out of the side of his mouth like he's holding a cigarette between his lips. "Well, yeah, but I meant inside. I've been waiting for you at the table." His amusement dissipates as he feels the chill emanating from your clothes. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Are you ready to come in?" 

Minus ten was dramatic. It's a solid 30 Fahrenheit, but the cold wind makes it feel colder. As soon as you enter the diner you're warm, heat nibbling at your fingers as the blood starts to pump. Eddie takes you to the side of the restaurant away from the noise of the games machines and the bathrooms, slipping into a booth where a worn paperback book is waiting. 

"I left that in case someone decided to steal our table." 

"What if they stole your book?" you ask, sliding into the booth seat opposite. 

"They'd love it," Eddie says. He leans forward with a mischievous air about him. "It's about a bullied teenage girl who loses her shit and gets psychic powers. I think she's gonna kill someone." He blinks. "Not that that's cool." 

"It's just a book, right? You're not a murderer."

You wonder why the fuck you'd say something like that, but he nods his agreement breezily. "Exactly." 

"Plus," you add, eager to say something he'll like, "it's hard not to root for the underdog." 

His smile twitches with an emotion you can't name. "Exactly," he says again. 

A waitress with thick rings of eyeliner comes to take your order. She has a sunny attitude, like Eddie in that way, an exterior some might say was intimidating and a bright smile. You're nervous from the get go and you have a cliche worry, watching Eddie interact with her from the corner of your eye. 

"For you?" she asks you. 

You stammer. What you'd thought about on the walk here this evening can be pinpointed into two simple lines of inquiry —what should you say to Eddie, and what should you say to the waitress. Shy to the point of aching, you'd rehearsed your order ten times, but all that comes out is hot air. 

"Um," you say, wishing you'd paid more attention to what Eddie said rather than how he looked at the waitress, "could I have, uh. Just the same? As he had, please." 

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks, nothing but patience in his tone. "Do you like pink lemonade?" 

You don't want anything carbonated tonight, nauseous enough. "Um, the same but with water instead, please." 

The waitress writes a short sentence with a big flourish. "Water," she reads, giving you and Eddie each a glowing smile. "No worries, I'll bring your drinks right out, food in twenty at most."

"Thank you," you and Eddie say together, in starkly different tones. 

Eddie waits for her to leave before he shucks off his jacket. He puts his elbows on the table and runs his knuckles up and down the length of the opposite forearm, smudging the whorls of his inky tattoos, the skinny silver chain around his wrist catching the light. "You know, I don't mind doing the talking, if you don't want to." 

You can't describe the embarrassment that bites at you, then. "It's– I'm sorry, I just couldn't think of what I wanted–" 

"I'm sorry," Eddie interrupts. "I should've told her to come back in a minute, I didn't give you chance to read the menu. I swear that's the only time I'll make a dick move tonight." 

You cough. He grimaces, teeth sinking into the pink of his bottom lip as he laughs it off. "Not like that. Or, not not like that. No dick moves," he says, "I just wanted to talk to you over a table rather than that pillar of a desk in the library." 

"It's a really tall desk." 

"It's so tall! I get that they want us to have somewhere to put the books but they have to go down to you guys anyways when you stamp 'em." 

"I don't know what the idea was behind them," you say. 

"Maybe they hired a bunch or very small librarians initially," Eddie says. He spies the waitress approaching with your drinks and leans back to accommodate her. He thanks her, but as soon as she leaves he's staring at your tap water with critical eyes. "It looks a little cloudy. You want my lemonade, instead?" 

"No, it's okay," you say, though drinking it feels like a bad idea. There's a whirlpool of scum at the top like clouds circling a mountain peak, ice cubes drifting in slow laps beneath. 

"I can take it back–" 

"Please don't," you say, "I'd be so embarrassed, it's only water." 

"I get you. Maybe I can get you something else, then. I'd say we should get hot cocoa but it's weird having hot cocoa with cheesesteaks." Eddie knocks the table. "I'm really sorry I asked you here." 

Your heart could be likened to a balloon popped by a sharp pin. You knew he'd regret asking you, knew it was too good to be true–

"We should've gone somewhere nice. Like Enzo's or Bullock's. Hey, we even could've gone into Indianapolis. And I have to say sorry double 'cos I should've asked you if I could give you a ride, I really messed it up." 

"It's not messed up," you say. "It's not." 

Eddie smiles at you, his most stripped back to date. 

Things are awkward and you theorise that it's your fault, but Eddie doesn't let you flounder in it. He asks questions, he says kind things. You have no choice but to relax and laugh at his ill-conceived jokes. You almost choke on your sub and he goes as far as to say, "Hey, you even make choking look good," having leapt up to pat your back. It's too much but it's weirdly nice at the same time. It's almost worth dying if it means Eddie's gonna rub your back with a big, unflinching hand. 

He wanders off when he's sure you're alive and you catastrophize: choking is far from attractive. He saw the way your nose wrinkled and your jaw went soft in your coughing and jumped ship. You dab the tears (from choking, though they could change at any moment) away with a napkin, sniffling. Your throat hurts and your sandwich doesn't look as appetising now. 

"Here," Eddie says, placing a tall glass in front of you grandly. 

"What is it?" you ask, though it could only be one thing. 

"Vanilla milkshake. Benny uses full fat cream, it's basically ice cream and nothing else. Is that okay?" 

You take a sip through a red and white striped straw without answering, the cold soothing your raw throat. A second straw stabs you in the cheek. 

"That ones for me," Eddie jokes. 

You swear you're gonna catch fire, putting the milkshake down with a thunk. "Oh," you say. 

"I'm kidding," he says. 

"No, I mean, if you want to share–" 

You're offering in the interest of being polite, but the look on Eddie's face reminds you of the more romantic connotations. "You sure?" he asks. 

You could say no. "Yeah. Of course." 

Between sips, you talk. Your conversation begins to feel like the unwinding a tight knot, unravelling defences you were unaware of, like a tapestry you never agreed to shaken out. Sure, you're shy, but you're interesting, and you have things to say. Eddie's eager to hear them; he won't stop pulling on the thread. 

Your throat tickles intermittently with scratchy pain. Eddie tucks a rather lustrous curl behind his ear, exposing a small stud earring and a hoop behind it. 

"I never noticed you have your ears pierced," you say, leaning forward to take another sip. 

Eddie pulls his straw from the glass to hit at yours teasingly, the slope of his eyebrows arching steeper. "Then you should look at me more often," he says. He stabs his straw into the glass and meets your eyes. To the outside observer, you're sure you look like partners getting gooey. "Notice anything else new?" 

Your pulse tangles in on itself, a snag in the thread. "Um, well…" You glance over his pale cheeks, their gentle caress of freckles. "You have freckles… and," —there, nestled between his lashes like a tiny dotted star— "a beauty mark under your eye." 

He doesn't smile, but some sweet softness plays in his eyes, his lashes kissing as they close ever so slightly. "You're prettier up close," he says quietly. "I didn't think you could get much prettier, but I've never been this close before, I guess." 

You take another sip to avoid further mortifying yourself with a stammering answer, but Eddie has a similar idea, leaning in. More awkward to pull apart, you share your drink and try not to bump his nose. The drink slurps and crackles as you finish it off together. Sitting back with twin smiles, awkward and flushed and not knowing what else to say, you fluster. There's a lot of stuff you want to ask him, but now he's finished his food and the milkshake is empty, you might not have time.

"Did you, like, wanna catch a movie or something?" Eddie asks, sounding for a second not quite as confident as he appears. 

You like metalhead Eddie, but you're starting to love this earnest version of him too. 

"Yeah, I'll see a movie with you," you say quickly. 

"Yeah? I know that's weird to plan more date in the middle of the date, I'm not trying to pressure you." 

"I've never been on a date before, so. This is setting the precedent." 

"The precedent," he says. "For future dates?" 

Is he hopeful? You open your mouth without thinking. "With you." 

His lips purse to one side, tamping down a big smile. Your cheeks hurt from how much you've smiled tonight. Is it always like this? Being with someone, dating, is it always unnervingly pleasant? You're eager to find out, and Eddie's eager to show you. 

"Let me go track down our waitress and we can probably get to the Hawk before the seven thirty," he says, clambering sideways out of the booth. 

You and Eddie are fifteen minutes late for a slasher movie, but you get there. Dark, two lone seats at the back are your only options, and you cram into them together with a frankly ridiculously huge bucket of popcorn to share. Eddie keeps whispering even when it's quiet and ticking off your rowmates, but he's being so sweet on you that you forget where you are. You forget to worry about what people are thinking. 

It's bliss. 

"Look at that," Eddie says, a handful of popcorn to his lips. "Ew, that's bloody. Shit, sweetheart, don't look at that." 

Sweetheart. "What do you think that is?" you whisper. 

"The fake blood? Isn't it pig's blood?"

"Is that legal?" 

Eddie almost drops the popcorn as something super gross happens, a silver flash and a spray of sticky orange movie blood coating the protagonist. "Holy fuck," he says, much too loudly as he puts the popcorn in your lap and covers your eyes. 

You laugh in surprise, "Woah, wait a second!" 

Someone shushes you loudly (and deservedly) from the row in front. 

"Sh, we're at the movies!" Eddie whisper-shouts. "Don't be inconsiderate." 

You peel his hand from your eyes. It doesn't drop entirely, long fingers slipping slowly down your cheek, turning your face to his. He's close, the nature of the small seats and your low conversation, his skin glowing with a red-pink and dappled white as the movie plays to your left. 

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers. 

On the walk to Benny's, your mind had drifted to the fantasy of a kiss. Eddie and his hands, the small silver bands of his rings and their heavier signets, how he'd offer to drive you home, walk you to your door, and peck you chastely in goodbye. He'd smell like his cologne that you tend to notice when he returns his borrowed books on Saturday mornings, chamomile and something deeper you've never been able to identify, no matter how long he stood there chatting. His lips would feel solid and cold from the weather, and here's where you stopped yourself from thinking any further, blood rushing to your wind-bitten cheeks. 

It's not so simply condensed, here. 

"I've never kissed anyone before," you whisper. 

"I'll have to set a good precedent, then," he says, rubbing the hollow of your under eye tenderly. "Or you can say no. That's okay, too."

You shake your head, "I want you to." 

The eagerness that's been simmering behind his eyes all night rears as he ducks in for a kiss. It's not what you're expecting, but it isn't bad; it's lots of things, his hand on your face and your elbow, your hands vying for him in startled delight, the popcorn between your knees tipping dangerously to the side as your lips give under his. 

He doesn't smell like chamomile at first, but hairspray. He presses against the seam of your lips and only as they part, forcing you to suck in a breath through your nose, do you smell it on him, close now. The cologne must linger on his shirt. 

He pulls away to shush you gently but urgently, Don't get us kicked out, it seems to say. 

And he's kissing you again. Nothing heavy, charged all the same, the barest taste of sweet popcorn shared between you. His hand does half the work, the tracing of his fingertips and the soft line they draw as he slots them behind your ear puttyifying you, like jelly in his warm palm. You make an unsure sound and he pulls away a second time, sugary brown eyes widened in concern.

"Bad?" he whispers. 

"Am I doing it right?" you ask. 

The concern becomes adoring. You feel like you've been injected with manic butterflies, having a guy like Eddie looking at you like that. "You're doing it super right," he says, so quietly you can barely hear him. "I'd tell you practise makes perfect 'cos I'm dying to do it again, but it was already perfect. You lying to me?" 

"No, of course I'm–" 

"I was kidding," he says, his side pressed heavily to the back of his chair as he drops his hand to your elbow casually.

"Oh. I knew that." 

He pats your arm, sympathetic, a tad condescending but he's hot enough to get away with it like this, lips kissed rosy and a glossy black curl falling into his eyes. 

You look down at his lips. Eddie doesn't make you beg, but he does gesture you forward, your hand landing atop his thigh as you angle up for another kiss. It's unlike you, but it's such a rush of feeling, you don't give your hokey-pokey brain time to consider the things you'd usually worry about. 

That being said, you pause just before your lips connect. You close your eyes too hard, head listing to the side self-consciously. 

Eddie must see it, whispering reassurances with a rough scratch, "Hey, it's okay. You can kiss me. You worry a lot for such a pretty girl, you know that?" He takes your hand. "Don't overthink it." 

"I can't," you say. 

"Take the night off. Let me worry…" His breath fans over your lips. "I'll take the lead," he suggests, closing the short gap between you. 

Your hand goes limp in his. 

—

The flowers are delivered to your desk sometime in the mid-afternoon. Pearly white lilies with green spots creeping toward the soft edges. Your chest yawns open and your lips curl into a smile like you've been hooked, rubbing a thick petal between your thumb and your forefinger. 

There's a long note folded and tied to one of the stems. 

Y/N, 

I am so, so sorry. So sorry. I am the sorriest boy who has ever lived, and I would love to make it up to you. Please call me when you get the flowers and tell me if they're a sufficient apology, or don't call me and I'll send you more. I know you said it was fine, but still.

Yours, Eddie Munson. 

P.S. did the flashlight guy have to be that mean? He pretty much blinded us with that thing. And did he have to make fun of my jacket? 

P.P.S I promise I will get you unbanned from the Hawk. Best date ever, yeah? 

You'll call him. Getting kicked out was a joint effort, after all, and you really want him to kiss you dizzy again, even if you found it hard to look at him on the drive home.

Maybe if he kisses you enough, you'll forget how it felt to be shepherded out of the movie theatre like a common criminal. 

You drop the note between the pages of your current read with a sigh. "Best date ever," you say. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you so much for reading! i really hope you enjoyed ♡ if you did, please considering reblogging, it means the world and makes a difference :D 

[okartichoke]

ace avian. that’s what we’re calling this 🗣️🗣️🗣️

please let me know if you have any thoughts or suggestions or input or anything! i’m happy to bounce ideas around (i'll post DL-6 someday soon i swear)

shoutout to the anon who sent in that ask bc i seriously fell in love with blue jay phoenix. SHOUTOUT TO TAKAHE PHOENIX TOO THO takahe phoenix, you will forever be in my heart and im glad you existed <3333,, (maybe in this au he’s got some loving adoptive takahe parents :3) (YKNOW WHAT YEAH that’s canon now)

but yeah, flight-avoidant jay phoenix still lends itself well to the common-man hardworking underdog vibe i want from him. speaking of flight-avoidant...

Phoenix's relationship with flying:

It's a bit complicated. Basically, Phoenix can fly, but he historically chooses not to. From the lack of any practice, he's an INCREDIBLY weak flier. (That hovering is really all he can manage)

For one, he's still afraid of heights. Can't help that. This fear means he was less inclined to practice flying, which made him a weaker flier. And being a weaker flier, in turn, made his fear of heights worse. And so on, in a loop. With flightless parents too (it's canon now it's canon), there's even less of a reason to learn to fly. At some point, not flying might've even become something he stuck with out of stubbornness lol, knowing Phoenix.

(I will soon be making a couple small world building posts, but) flying isn't necessary to get around in their society. Convenient, sure, but Phoenix realized he could make do without, and so he did. Phoenix, you icon. Slay. 💅💅

i know this probably isn't the popular take with wing AUs??, but Phoenix being flightless (or at least semi-flightless) sounded like a really fun take on the idea to me. His name is irony at its peak. I also look forward to exploring how other characters react to him not flying. The prosecutors are going to have so many cheap insult opportunities.

As I mentioned though, he still uses his wings a LOT, though. He's much more emotive with them than most people. His sarcastic inner-dialogue remarks are also betrayed by his wings lmao

I also imagine bird-folk never really invented bikes (riding would just be annoying with their wings, plus bikes aren't fast/efficient enough to outweigh just flying), so instead, Phoenix gets around on a little wing-powered scooter device (like scootaloo lol) (they're usually made for children who can't fly yet, but Phoenix still uses one)

finally, wow, stellar jay’s are quite literally just phoenix wright as a bird lmao? color scheme, hair, it’s uncanny. give it a pink tie and it just is Phoenix Wright, i used a blue jay since they’ve got a bit more striking wings but wow.

(ty again for the support and for reading my essay ! :3)

one more thing, but @kora-kat YES YES YES this. ^^^^ omg THIS. this is still true even though he's a jay now.

[pitchsidestories]

Girlfriend Material II Jen Beattie x Reader

masterlist I word count: 3223

summary: in which Jen Beattie falls in love with a sports journalist who is also a single mother.

A/N: based off this request here. We hope you enjoy this one and we agree with you that Jen Beattie is really underrated. As always this is just fiction.

audio transcript of the interview with Jen Beattie for the bookproject

Jen: sips on her coffee So, how did you..?

Reader: laughs amused do I have to remind you Jen Beattie that I'm the person here asking the questions and it's about the Scottish Women’s national team?

Jen: I thought we weren’t starting yet!

Reader: You said you got your coffee in front of you and that we can start recording that conversation.

Jen: I didn’t know you meant immediately.

Reader: So now you know.

Jen: okay, sorry. I’ll let you talk now.

Reader: Thank you can see jen lifting her finger Yes?

Jen: No, sorry. I forgot I’m not allowed to ask questions.

Reader: Maybe you can ask a few so it feels more like a natural conversation? Maybe that works better for you too.

Jen: Okay, fine with me. How did you get the idea to write this?

Reader: Easy your team’s story is very intriguing and inspiring. I really wanted to cover more than a story, and, in a book, you get the chance to tell multiple of stories.

Jen: I like that. But I always think, we’re just Scotland, you know? There are more interesting teams to write about.

Reader: Yes, I get that but it might sound like a stupid reason, but I grew up in Edinburgh, so Scotland is very dear to my heart, also everyone loves the underdog.

Jen: I like that.

Reader: So, what I’m trying to say with this is you can trust me.

Jen: I do. Why would I not trust you with this topic?

Reader: Good point

Jen: See.

Reader: going back to our topic, when and how did you feel when you were getting your first call up for Scotland?

Jen: chuckles Oh that was a long time ago but as a football player you always dream of that call so as you can imagine I was very excited.

Reader: Do you remember that exact moment?

Jen: Yes, I do. I still played for Glasgow, and I almost missed the call because I started at the phone for too long.

Reader: You did?

Jen: Yes, I’m not sure what would have happened if I missed it.

Reader: I guess they would have tried it again.

Jen: Who knows, right?

Reader: I think it was meant to be.

Jen: It probably was. I’m glad I took the call though. It changed a lot for me.

Reader: This must have been a big step forward in your career.

Jen: It is. I don’t know if Arsenal would have wanted me if it hadn’t been for that call.

Reader: but Arsenal did want you. Lily entering the room Oh sorry this is my daughter Lily.

Jen: She’s adorable. Hi Lily.

Lily: Hello, are you mum’s new friend?

Reader: Actually, I’m interviewing Jen for my book.

Jen: But it’s almost something like that.

Reader: True. Can you give me five more minutes, Lil? And when we’ll go to the park to play football like I promised you earlier.

Lily: Okay.

Reader: Thanks love. Sorry, so where were we Jen?

Jen: Uhm.. oh, Arsenal.

Reader: Yes, right, you got the chance to play there.

Jen: I did. Together with my Scotland teammate.

Reader: So, you must have been very young when you made your move to London?

Jen: I was 18.

Reader: Right.

Jen: Kim was 18 too when she moved to London the year before, so I was glad to have her there too.

Reader: That’s really sweet.

Jen: We both were the youngest and now we’re the grandmas.

Reader: protests You’re not grandmas !

Jen: No but we like to joke about it.

Reader: I can see that.

Jen: With all the youngsters here.

Lily: wears a Scotland jersey Mum, I’m ready !

Reader: Shit, the five minutes are over.

Jen: You probably shouldn’t let her wait.

Reader: Sorry, that’s so unprofessional.

Jen: No worries. I understand that.

Reader: Thank you.

Jen: Have fun.

Lily: Do you want to play with us?

Jen: I would love to, but I have training. Another time, I promise.

Lily: Oh okay.

Jen: Lily?

Lily: Yes?

Jen: I mean it.

Lily: I trust you.

Jen: I’ll see you soon.

Reader: Goodbye, Jen. Thank you for taking your time.

Jen: Thank you for inviting me. And don’t forget to call me, so Lily and I can play some football.

Reader: I’ll call you. Promise.

Lily: whispers Mum, she likes you.

Reader: I think she likes you more.

Lily: But she likes you too!

Reader: Do you think so?

Lily: Yes!

Reader: When it must be true.

Lily: Its true.

The London Derby was about to start. The crowd at the Emirates was roaring with excitement. Amazed, you took in the atmosphere from the side of the pitch alongside some of the other jounalists.

Across the grass, you caught Jen’s gaze who was standing next to the tunnel in a big puffer jacket. She subtly waved at you which you answered with a small smile.

Kim Little appeared next to Jen, telling her something with a stern face. You knew the game was about to start so you turned back to your work.

“Has anyone seen Lily? Jen, you were supposed to look after the daughter of your girlfriend. “, Kim scolded Jen on the other side of the pitch. Reluctantly, Jen turned away from you and towards her teammate; “You said you would babysit.“ “After the match! I’m in the starting line up, remember?“, Kim replied, more amused than annoyed.

Laughing, Jen rolled her eyes; “Ugh, show-off.“ Her smaller team mate gave her playfully offended look; “Hey, you’re still talking to your captain here.“ “Yeh, sure. I’ll go find Lily.“, Jen answered with a grin and brushed past Kim into the dressing rooms. “Good!“, the Arsenal captain called after her.

Jen opened the door of the dressing room where the Arsenal players were just getting ready for the important game against Chelsea; “Lil?“ “Here!“, the voice of a child piped up. The little girl waved with one hand from her place between Alessia Russo and Kyra Cooney-Cross. In the other hand, she held a crumbly granola bar. Jen walked towards her, a big grin on her face; “What are you doing here? Having a snack?“

“Yes, Lessie gave me something. And Wally promised to do my hair.“, Lily nodded with pure joy. Jen ruffled her hair; “Lucky girl.“ “Comes from the one who only ever wears a bun on match days.“, Lia laughed while she pushed past Jen and took Kyras place.

Carefully, she started brushing Lilys hair. “It’s the least complicated and most effective hairstyle.“, the Scot defended herself with a shrug. Kim rolled her eyes; “And it makes you even taller than you are.“

With raised eyebrows, Jen made a point to look down at her captain; “How can you even tell that from down there?“ “Rude.“, she replied before turning towards the toddler whose hair was now in a high ponytail, “Lil?“ “Yes?“ “Tell her to stop making fun of small girls.“

Lily nodded determinedly, causing Lia to start over with braiding her little ponytail; “I’ll.“ “We’re done.“, Lia smiled a minute later, satisfied with her finished work. Lily happily jumped up on the bench, standing on her toes to eye her new hairstyle in a mirror. Laughing, Jen picked her up; “Good. Because these girls have to go out and play and important game now.“

“Good luck!”, Lily hummed. Gratefully Lia patted the shoulder of the little girl:” Thank you, Lily.” “Can you give me a hug as an extra motivation?”, Alessia asked her with a big smirk on her face. Enthusiastically Lily nodded, opening her arms up to hug the tall forward:  “Of course.” That sight alone melted Jen’s heart in the blink of an eye.

In her bossy tone which was such a contrast to her relatively smallness Kim clapped motivated into her hands:” Alright girls, time to get out there.” While the playing footballers went on to the field Jen and the toddler took their seats on the bench.

Big eyed Lily pulled on the defender’s jacket: ”Jen?” “Yes?”, attentively the Scottish player put her little hand into hers. Deeply amazed Lily whispered: “This is huge.”  “I know, right?”, Jen solemnly agreed. Not long into the game Beth Mead scored the first goal which made Lily jump from her seat shouting happily:” Yes, Meado!”

“Good job, Beth! She’ll be so happy about that girl.”, the defender commented with a satisfied smile. A bit less enthusiastic the girl added:” Mum told me she had a bad injury.”  “Yes, she didn’t play football for almost one year.”, the Scottish Woman replied seriously.

Quite taken by that she mumbled: “ That’s forever.” “And her girlfriend Viv had the same injury.”, Jen explained the past situation to her.  Moved by those words Lily observed: “That’s not fair.” “No but it happens in football.”, the defender reminded her.

The mood was lightened when the little girl was catching where the older woman’s eyes were wandering:” Jen, you keep staring at mum!” Caught of guard the Arsenal player’s cheek turned red:” I’m not I was just looking if she’s looking.” “Sure.”, Lily giggled.

After the match she ran to Alessia, telling her visibly very animated:” Lessi, your goals were soo cool!” “Thank you, Lily! You were our lucky charm today.”, the forward declared beaming.

After the live recording ended you greeted Jen with a huge grin, while she was wrapping her strong arms around you::” Hi love, did Lil behave?” “You know her of course she did. She’s too focused on the game in front of her.”, the Scottish woman answered cheerfully.

Glad about that news you changed the topic easily: “Good. Remind me, where are you taking me out tonight, again?” “You’ll see when we’re there.”, Jen smiled mysteriously. Excited about what the evening would contain you said: “I’ll be right back I’ll be just saying goodbye to Lily and tell her that it might get a bit later tonight, so she doesn’t need to try to stay awake until we’re back.” “Alright.”, with that word the Arsenal player let go of you for now.

A few minutes prior Kim wanted to know from the toddler:” Have you decided whose jersey you want, Lily?” “Can I have yours?”, she asked innocently. The captain was surprised by that wish:” Mine?” “Yes, please.”, Lily nodded quickly.

Flustered the older woman gave the little girl her jersey:” Oh, sure. Here you go.” “Thank you.”, the toddler gratefully pressed the shirt onto her.  Trying not to show how touched she was Kim waved it off:” You’re welcome.”

Lily was already wearing the oversized jersey when you entered the dressing room. Your daughter happily ran into your arms. You wrapped her into a tight hug while you told her; “Hi Lily, I just wanted to say goodbye for now and that Jen and I’ll be back tonight. But I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun with Kimmy.“

You shared a quick smile with Arsenals team captain. “Okay, have fun, Mum.“, Lily replied, obviously already distracted by what was happening around her in the dressing room. You pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before saying goodbye; “Love you, Lily.“ You could feel your daughters eyes on you while you caught up Jen outside.

Kim realized that Lily was confused by the situation so she kneeled down in front of the toddler; “Tell me, Lily, what do you want to eat now?“ “Can we eat pizza?“, the little girl asked with big eyes.

While Kim nodded, Leah Williamson joined the conversation; “Can we join the pizza party?“ “Please?“, Laura Wienroither added, her facial expression almost identical to Lilys. Kim nodded with a sigh before turning back the toddler; “Sure. How about we make our own pizzas, Lily?“ “Yes!“ “Alright, let’s go.“, the captain decided and got up to grab her bag. She took Lilys hand in hers while Leah and Laura followed them.

At Kims home, they immediately got to work, making small individual pizzas. “I’m jealous. Yours and Kims pizza looks so good.“, Leah complained, eyeing the ham and mozzarella pizza that Kim just took out of the oven. “It’s because Lily and I are a good team.“, she replied, holding up her hand for Lily to high-five. “True.“, the little girl agreed.

Laura laughed; “Not bad, Little team.“ “Thanks.“, Kim said, only partly annoyed by the pun. Excitedly, Leah took her pizza out of the oven next; “Time to eat our pizzas.“ But there was a loud bang that told everyone in the room that Leahs pizza did not even make it to the table. “Oh no.“ “Leah!“, Lily yelled, amused by the mess the tomato sauce and hot cheese made on the tile floor. “Yeah, I know, very funny.“, the defender sighed.

Kim immediately turned back to the kitchen table; “It’s okay, we can make a new one.“ “Lee, you can have a bit of mine.“, Lily offered, gently pushing a piece of pizza towards the defender. Gratefully, Leah picked it up and took a bite; “Thank you, Lily, you’re very sweet.“ “You don’t need to tell her that, she knows.“, Kim grinned while making more pizza. “Still. She shared her pizza with me!“

Finally, the captain admitted; “Yes, okay, it’s cute.“ “See, that’s adorable.“, Leah said. Laura disrupted their conversation, pointing towards the toddler; “Oh my god, girls. She fell asleep with her head next to her plate.“

A soft smile appeared on Kims lips as she watched the child sleep, a piece of pizza still in her tiny hand; “I think it was a long day for her. Winning against Chelsea is exhausting.“ “Very true.“, Leah agreed with a laugh. Carefully, Kim picked the girl up; “I’ll bring her to bed.“ “Good night, Lil.“, Laura whispered. Lily blinked tiredly and yawned against Kims shoulder; “Nighty.“

Meanwhile, you looked at your surroundings being in awe of the restaurant your girlfriend chose:” Jen, this is so fancy here.” “I told you; I’d take you somewhere nice.”, the Arsenal player replied with a warm smile.  Proudly she kept holding your hand until you reached your table and took a seat each. “Yes, you weren’t lying about you.”, you had to admit delighted.

In an honest tone she stated: “As much as I love Lily, you also deserve to be treated to something nice.” “She loves you too, in her kindergarten she refers to you as her mum.”, you confessed, cheeks flushing. Surprised but flattered Jen asked:” She does?” “Yes.”, you nodded cautiously, unsure if this information was too much for your girlfriend.  

The defender let out a shaky breath: “Wow.” “Sorry, if that was too much.”, you stammered an apology. Immediately she reassured you:” No, I like that.” “Anything you would recommend from the menu?”, you tried to lighten up the mood, but the football player was taking your hand meaning you to pause for a second.

Softly the Scottish woman said:” Love..”  “Yes?”, you looked up to her, your free hand was nervously putting a loose string of your hair behind your ear. A deep sigh escaped Jen’s lips, before she confessed: “I want to be honest with you. I never wanted to be a mum; it just wasn’t one of my life goals like it is for other women. But I’d love nothing more than being Lily’s mum.”  

“You’re already a great one.”, you confirmed visibly moved by her words. Equally touched Jen answered: “Thanks. That means a lot.” Because words couldn’t encompass how much her confession meant to you, you kissed her, hoping the kiss could encompass everything you felt in that moment. “I love you.”, the Arsenal player whispered. “I love you too.”  Her voice was filled with gratitude:” I’m so glad you were writing that book.” “It’s coming out soon.”, you announced happily.

Hopefully Jen wanted to know: “Can I read it first?” “Of course, I’ll leave you a copy on your nightstand.”, you promised her excited. A bright grin was on your girlfriend’s face: “Thank you. I can’t wait to read it.”  “I hope you and the team will like it.”, you bit your lip.  “I’m sure we will.” From that on you two had a very pleasant date night.

After the dinner you gratefully greeted Kim in her home:” Hi Kim, thanks for watching after Lily.”  “You’re welcome. She was really tired and already fell asleep at dinner.”, the Arsenal Captain told you. Understandingly you nodded:” To be fair it was a long, exciting day for her.” “That’s true. I hope you had a good date night.”, Kim smiled at you both. Beaming Jen replied:“ We did.” “That’s good.”, the midfielder seemed pleased by the happy faces in front of her.

“Mums?“, Lilys voice interrupted your small talk. The little girl stumbled into your direction, her eyes were barely open. “Yes?“, Jen answered. “You’re back.“, your daughter yawned. You crouched down, your arms outstretched and Lily let herself against your chest. “We are.“, you confirmed as you carefully picked her up. Jen reached over, ruffling the little girls hair; “Yes, and we’re going home now.“ “Okay.“, Lily mumbled, almost asleep again. Jen chuckled quietly; “She is so cute.“

You said your goodbyes to Kim and made your way back home. You placed the sleeping Lily in her bed, carefully tucking her in and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead; “Good night, Lil.“ “I think she had fun today.“, Jen commented from where she leaned on the door frame. You grinned; “Yes, they had pizzas together.“

“Oh, Kim just texted.“, Jen said in surprise. You watched her read something on her phone; “What did she write?“ “That she hopes we got Lily home without waking her up.“, your girlfriend summarized the message quickly. You shrugged; “Kind of. She’s asleep now.“

With a smile on your lips, you took Jens phone out of her hand to snap a photo of your daughter, fast asleep with her favourite plushie in her arm. Grinning, Jen followed up her message to Kim with the photo while you both left Lilys room. “She and the girls seem to like being aunties.“, Jen thought out loud. You nodded happily; “They do. Even though Kim always pretends to be annoyed when you ask her to babysit.“ “Yes, but she secretly loves it.“, Jen replied with a laugh. “Oh yes.“, you agreed while you both slipped into your bed.

Only as your head hit your pillow, you realized how tired you were. Yawning, Jen slipped an arm around your waist and gently kissed your neck once. Just before you two were about to fall asleep, Jens phone screen lit up again.

As she held up the phone and blinked against the brightness of the screen, you caught a glimpse of the message. It was from Kim, reading; “Haven’t seen you that happy in a long time. You deserve this, Jen.“ You could feel a smile spread on your face, similar to the one on your girlfriends and you couldn’t deny that you felt a little bit honoured by that message.

Jen put her phone back on the nightstand and pulled you closer to her. You both didn’t need any words to express how right it felt to be there in each others arms.

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐫 | 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

【Synopsis】 : Don't piss Bucky off... You might like it too much.

『Word count』 :  777

Paring: MobBoss!Bucky x Innocent!Reader

[Warnings] : Toys, Angry Bucky, sir kink, manhandling kink, dom/sub dynamics, Mafia mentioned. Fingering. Swearing. Begging.

Masterlist | Navigation

Hit after hit, your teasing began to get out of hand. Throughout the day, all you did was make him hot and bothered, and man did that send him off. Your anniversary was two days away, and your mission was to get a rise out of him until the day arrived.

You see, Bucky is a loving boyfriend and an amazing man. Everything you could have asked for. But there was one thing… His personality towards you and then towards everyone else was completely different. Don’t get you wrong, you love the sweetness, the innocence, but you wanted the roughness he gives to others. When he is working on a new run, he growls lowly at the underdogs to get their job done. Or when you caught him holding another man from a different gang up by his collar while they were both bruised and bloody.

Man, you have to hold back a whimper whenever you see him covered in blood. Call you sadistic but you craved for him to be rough, fuck you like his life depended on it. But he saw you as an angel, something pure, something too soft for his world. He would try and shield you no matter what, but you finally snapped.

He took a sharp turn, putting both hands on the wheel before coming to a stop in a dirt patch on the back road. No street lights, no cars. You were in trouble. Maybe teasing him in the car wasn’t as a good idea as you thought… He got out of the car without a word, heading for the trunk. Your heart stopped, scared and excited about what might happen. He came back with a bag, looking furious.

“I wanted to give this to you after our anniversary dinner. But you’ve been so bad these two days…” His voice was low, turning your focus to his. He holds your chin, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. His eyes are cold and dark. He’s never looked at you like this before. There was no love, no softness…only lust…

“It looks like I need to punish this brat out of you instead.” And with that, he let go of you, diving into the bag. There were a bunch of goodies inside, but he only pulled one item out.

“James…Please, I’m sorry.” You knew you had taken it too far, trying to give him doe eyes, you pleaded. But he just smirked more, opening the box. You didn’t really want him to stop, but playing innocent was your default.

“It’s too late for apologies baby, now you’re going to take your punishment until we get home, and then I’ll think about fucking you.” He growled, putting the batteries in the toy. You were frozen, you didn’t think he was ever listening to you when you 'joked' about wanting a vibrator for when he was away on work trips but the fact he got the exact one you even asked for. God, you didn’t deserve this man.

“Ready to be a good girl?” He asked testing the speeds with the remote, playing with the toy on his palm to see what speed was best. You nodded eagerly, kissing him. He smiled briefly, pulling away to help you out of your shorts and panties. This was the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done with him. Normally, he would have gone home and maybe made love, but this…this was different.

Taking a seat, you waited for your next instruction. He grabbed lube out of the bag, lubing the toy before putting some of his fingers. He rubbed your slit, making you let out a small moan.

“Damn you are so wet already. Hmm, teasing me gets you just as worked up?” He chuckles, slipping a finger inside you. You grip his arm, moaning.

“Please Bucky… B-Buc—That’s not my name tonight baby…” He cut you look pressing his finger on your clit, giving it pressure.

“You call me Sir tonight and I swear to God if you cum before we get home you’ll be in even more trouble than you are now. Do you understand?” He spat out pushing two fingers in, slowly moving them in and out, stretching you.

You nodded, but he wanted a verbal response, pulling his fingers out before placing the toy at your entrance.

“Words darling…” He tilts his head, clicking his tongue with a smirk. You look up at him, seeing his eyes baring into yours. Your sweet boyfriend was gone, leaving you alone with someone new.

“Y–…” You stutter as you feel the toy enter you, feeling the low vibration….“Yes Sir”

[sepublic]

Interesting that pop culture portrays Van Helsing as an experienced, seasoned vampire hunter, when it's pretty clear in the novel that this is his first go around with the whole thing, his first confirmation they actually exist, and in other words he's basically winging it and hasn't necessarily thrown a punch in his entire life (Which means he can’t just throw hands with Dracula, he needs research and backup to organize the perfect trap where they won’t be instantly killed). VH doesn’t always know what’s going on, he’s figuring things as he goes along; Like yeah he's HEARD of vampires, but it's never been anything prominent to him.

If anything, his past with vampires is probably similar to a lot of readers; Familiar with the concept, knows some of the details but not all of them, and definitely presumes them fake. He sees something going on with his patient and is like Haha damn that's just like a vampire, wouldn't it be crazy if... And then he slowly starts settling into conspiracy theory mode when more and more dots show up to conveniently connect, as he does the obligatory Protagonist Searching Stuff Up bit and realizes Mein Gott!!! It might be a vampire!!!

But then at the last second VH reminds himself, Now hold on, have I actually SEEN this vampire??? But it won't do anyone harm if I added some garlic flowers, right...? And then it just gradually escalates from there into full-on paranoia and dread that vampires exist and VH needs to desecrate the dead, and then he finally gets confirmation when he sees an Undead Lucy. What the fuck.

I think there's an argument to be made that Van Helsing was doubting himself just as much as Seward and the others initially did, if not more so, and he can’t even talk to anyone about it; So there’s an elation where you finally talk to others and realize it’s really happening, you’re not crazy.

This just ties into the theme of recording that which you did see, which is indisputable, because it’s evidence and proof. So you can be certain you aren't totally insane, and can distinguish facts from assumptions and theories if necessary; Especially when one needs to consider other explanations for the same symptoms. There’s a relief confirming what is and isn’t real to dispel self-doubt, like there was for Jonathan, who also suffered from Dracula’s gaslighting distorting his perception of reality.

I think all of this makes Van Helsing's actions and secrecy a lot more understandable when handling Lucy; If you hired a doctor and he suddenly started bringing up vampires, you might be inclined to think he's insane, doesn't know what he's talking about, and has read too many vampire stories and probably believes in 'alternative' medicine. Van Helsing still has an image and reputation to uphold here, and if it's gone, he can't actually be there to help Lucy if he turns out to be right.

That isn't to say he isn't without critique, especially in later portions of the novel, but you can kinda see where this underdog stance of "I'm right and the others around me are wrong" gets vindicated and thus develops into a bit of arrogance later down the line; Particularly, in presuming his disagreements with Mina to be no different than his secrecy with Seward and Mrs. Westenra.

In the end, VH could be described as a character who wonders if he's in the novel Dracula (compared to Jonathan who knows he's in a horror story of some kind but can't name the genre), but then has to remind himself this is reality... If this is a story, it’s probably just some medical drama. And when VH does accept he's in the novel Dracula, he assumes his character development and the lessons he learns are straightforward.

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.

THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.

Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this

random ficlet below

Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)

DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.

-----

Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.

“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.

He sees you’re watching TV.

“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.

“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.

You quirk a brow.

“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”

“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.

*10 minutes later*

“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”

You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.

You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.

“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.

“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.

“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.

“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”

“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.

You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.

While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.

Your door slams open.

“Okay I’m back bitch.”

Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.

He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.

“You comfy down there?”

You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.

“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.

You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.

“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.

“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.

You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”

You focus back on the screen in front of you.

The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.

“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.

“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.

“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.

“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”

“It don’t make you any less of a man.”

“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”

“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.

He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”

------

I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Pick the picture(s) that you're drawn to the most, then scroll down for its corresponding message on what you would be canceled for when it comes to your reputation.

Paid Readings | Botanica | Tip Jar

Pile One 🚫

I’m seeing a scenario where a person that’s known for being in a group, decides to go solo. I see that you’re the kind of person who loves the feeling of being in partnerships or in community with others but you’d rather deal with loneliness than compromise the love that you have for yourself. The way that you wield your independence makes people very upset with you. It really feels like people have a nasty habit of trying to humble you so when you show them that they can’t, they want to convince other people to go against you because that’s the only way that they can feel some control over you but you make it vain by not caring so much about if you’re the villain or victim in someone else’s story. If a person believes the worst about you, then there is no need to vindicate yourself because most likely it’s because they already didn’t like you and just wanted a reason to feel secure about their vitriol towards you. You tend to outshine others in some way and people think that you do this on purpose or with sinister intent, but naturally you’re just highly magnetic. The things that make you unique are what make people heavily drawn to you. I’m seeing that people could have the tendency to try to gate keep you, you could be seen as the underdog in a situation or someone who isn’t as known at first until you outgrow your situation and gain this massive attention and support. This also could upset a lot of people because they liked you better when you were down, possibly out of envy or because they feel you’re similar to them so you gave them this feeling of comfort and validation so your ability to obtain this much recognition makes them feel left out. The way people act towards you could trigger imposter syndrome inside you but it’s important to recognize that you truly are talented and you deserve the praise for your skills and hard work. The good things about yourself that other people see whether they want others to notice or not notice, are real. Star qualities are embedded in your dna, you were never meant to burn yourself out because others are threatened by the way that you shine. This reading is supposed to be generally about your reputation, but I actually see potential for this pile to become famous, especially in the music industry.

Pile Two 🚫

It seems like somehow this pile is usually at the scene of the crime. You could feel like time just isn’t on your side. Maybe you guys have capricorn and aquarius placements or saturn is somewhere significant in your chart. A big reason why people would cancel you, is because of who you associate with. Some of you may already know this and are trying to work on it but a lot of you need to hear this message which is to be more selective with who you hang around with because you will keep being caught up in the crossfire in a battle that’s supposed to be meant for someone else. You’d be canceled for always being neutral in an issue that you shouldn’t be silent about. It honestly feels like a lot of your issues come from what you say or don’t say. I’m getting that there are moments where you don’t know when to read the room, for some it’s out of ignorance and naivety but for others your lack of self awareness turns to stupidity which will make others deem you as problematic. Be mindful of who and who isn’t your friend. Some people will passively let you make certain mistakes for their own entertainment or because your demise benefits them. These hurdles in your reputation will also teach you to be cautious of the ways you’re hurting yourself to save others who wouldn’t do the same for you but your rough beginning in learning how to be tactful and poised will make you more recognized and appreciated for your growth. Your mistakes will leave an imprint, but it’s important to not stay in embarrassment from it and to move on because at some point people’s reaction to it will change from disapproval to people seeing how iconic you actually are because of how strong and authentic your character is and your capacity to mature. Some of the negative hits towards your reputation do not have anything to do with what you personally do to others. Some people may cancel you because they feel like you win too much or that you have too much. People may be too harsh on you if you’re young when they shouldn’t because you’re still learning and you should be allowed to enjoy your youthfulness because time waits for no one. I can see people trying to scapegoat you by bringing up real world issues that are out of your control to criticize you because you look luxurious or too comfortable. I feel like your words are also twisted a lot by others too which can be severely annoying.

Pile Three 🚫

People consider you to be very controversial. What you do or what you say is turned into a think piece by others. I can see people trying to diagnose you with something that’s far from the actual truth when really you just want to have fun and a good time. Whether you are wrong or right I can see a lot of people defending you a lot but they could be part of the problem too as well because maybe they also try to put labels onto you or put you on a pedestal that you don’t want to be on. You would be canceled for not doing the things that people want you to do in your career which can either turn out really well in the end or be bad for you. This could push you into hermit mode where you’re not interested in being known by just anyone but the people who you can relate to. I see a lot about you not being able to go through personal matters in private because somehow everything is on display. People in this pile can be older or have experienced mature themes and lessons intensely at a young age or have experienced parents trying to pressure them into being child prodigies for success. What I say will probably irritate you too but I’m actually seeing that as much as it’s good that you’re having fun, most of the destructive and impulsive behaviors that you do come a lot from not being able to have boundaries or moderation with things in your youth but it doesn’t mean that you’re finished or that your life is over yet. If I could describe what people see when they view you as notorious, it would be like a bull inside a china shop. It could even seem like you’re going backwards but you’re trying to find yourself and you will. I see your reputation being a highlight for people who are coming of age or think of you whenever they’re in nostalgia. Whatever that you create in this lifetime will be timeless and healing for others in some way but could have them missing for your presence again as if you’ve made a symbolic cartoon series, album, piece of writing, or even an acting role that does exactly what it needs to do but people still hope that one day you come back to make an extension of it or at least give an update on what you’re up to in your life. People could see your opposition as something that resonates with them spiritually.

[wingsdippedingold]

The thing that always gets me about SJM is that she says she loves Nesta so much, but at every point Nesta is degraded or self-hating.

The way Nesta is written and people react to her, it’s pretty clear that she’s not actually a bitch but just guarded and cautious of an unfamiliar/ hostile environment.

SJM often writes scenes like this (screenshot stolen from @theladyofbloodshed )

In this Nesta’s in an odd position, where she’s portrayed as the victim of Mor’s ire. However, the characters that regularly antognize Nesta (Amren, Rhysand, Mor, etc.) are never acknowledged to be antagonistic towards her, only that Nesta herself is antagonized. Nesta’s character exists in a weird limbo where she’s meant to be a a wrongfully hated character to the reader, but the people who do wrong her are also supposed to be in the right.

SJM wants to write Nesta to be the underdog mc who defies her haters and becomes someone beloved, but the issue is she’s hated by characters the narrative wants you to also love, and whom Sarah can not bring herself to let ever be in the wrong, because then it would break the idea that they’re infallible and make the rest of their faults also up for criticism.

At every point where she’s put in a bad position, it’s acknowledged that the blame is not hers, but the narrative doesn’t place the blame anywhere else, essentially making what happened entirely a product of Nesta and no other character’s actions. We see how dreadful Nesta feels in ACOSF, much of it at the hands of the ic, and the narrative wants us to sympathize and understand her situation, but with no outlet to fault her situation towards the ic and no attempt to make it known that these feelings that are a product of the ic’s actions are directly a product of the ic.

SJM also writes Nesta to be one of the only characters who self-reflect on their actions and find fault within themselves. None of the ic ever introspect on their actions and effect on other courts and people, contributing to Nesta being the wrong ones and them being correct, simply because the narrative has not made the effort to explore wether or not they’re wrong, whereas it has with Nesta. Nesta’s actions were explored and allowed to be negative because it is what allows her to change her mind, but because she’s the only one changing her mind, she only becomes more and more fitting of the ic’s standards and the series’s idea of moral correctness.

The inverse is also an issue because Sarah writes the ic to be “morally gray”, which grants them the excuse of “you can’t expect them to always be perfect/good, they’re supposed to be morally gray” but the issue with that notion and archetype in this case is that the never face any repercussions or criticism by the narrative, but rather the people opposing them, effectively establishing them as the moral high ground. You cannot defend them as “morally gray” when the narrative has done nothing more than to portray them as always in the correct even in their “morally gray actions.” Discussing their character in that way while not acknowledging how the narrative treats them absolves them of their own faults and is a slippery slope when analyzing the characters in the story.

This is one of the reasons I think so many people find it hard to like Nesta or actually sympathize with her like SJM wants; because their favorite character hates Nesta, though acknowledged to be unjustly, the character themself is not acknowledged to be unjust, therefore portraying their actions to be correct.

This was written really quickly and I just woke up from a nap, but if anyone else wants to discuss this topic, I’d love to see it!

[baxndaid]

human vox

x reader 📺⛽🎤

an ; request more vox pls i love him, most of this is just me yapping

The year was 1952 and you worked in the upcoming film and TV industry. While it was just a small job reading through scripts to find typos or getting coffee for the more important figures, it was a job nonetheless and you enjoyed it.

A new show had quickly skyrocketed in popularity since its debut, a game show where you would have to answer questions in order to win the, most likely branded, items. Something like a washing machine or a supply of toothpaste. If the producers felt generous that day however, the prizes would rise in value, the show once giving away a brand new sleek black Fiat 1900. While the simple yet new and exciting premise of the show might’ve drawn viewers in, the host of the show made them stay. He was charming and handsome, he always dressed the part with a dapper suit and his hair was always done perfectly. Whenever he spoke, it was like the whole stage brightened up a bit, at least, that’s what you thought. His stage name was Vox, you never really liked that name - too sharp and aggressive, you thought. His real name was Vince, and you liked it better, though you’d never tell him that. You hardly ever had any interactions with the man other than handing him the script that the sponsors wanted him to yap about. He was charming, and you liked him - unfortunately it was just a pipe dream. You didn’t bother chasing after him considering you were just a small time employee while he was the face of the whole show, thousands of American women had their eyes on him especially when they turned their black and white TVs on between 5-6PM.

Fortunately for you, the producers had caught a glimpse of you backstage and wanted to spice up the show a bit. It was getting boring, other than the host himself there was nobody else the audience could attach themselves to. So, naturally, the best idea would be to introduce a beautiful woman, who was smart and shy - the “role model” if you will. You fit the bill, and how could you say no? You would be beloved by every household for your wholesome nature, (and especially loved by all the men in unhappy marriages and liked looking at the young women on screen.) And if you won? you could keep the winnings.

And you would win, because the show was now rigged in your favor.

Simply put, they wanted to paint you as the underdog, the vulnerable lady who simply wanted a chance to make some money. So when you would answer every question, even the ridiculous ones, correctly, the audience would gasp in disbelief at your amazing hidden knowledge and then tune into the next episode to see more of you and Vox. The truth was, the only thing hidden was Vox sliding you the answers to each question onto your desk. It was genius, really, the producers seemed to love the idea and so did Vox. Anything for ratings. You were still a little apprehensive, but you couldn’t back down after already signing the contract.

After winning one episode and becoming around $10,000 richer, Vox strategically pulled you in for a hug and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek to congratulate you for your “victory” in front of the camera. He was an amazing actor, you thought as he said his goodbyes to the audience and the cameras stopped rolling. Maybe he should ditch this studio and try his luck in Hollywood.

Once the room was no longer focused on Vox, he turned to you, his smile less big and forced and a lot more casual, “That was your first taste of show business, how’d you find it? Pretty nifty eh?” He prodded you with his elbow gently.

“Yeah, it was um- different… to what I usually do.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you worked here prior.” He looked at you up and down as he pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket, “Say, since you and I are going to be working with each other from now on, why don’t we blow this antsville and I’ll buy you a drink?”

As he waited for your answer he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. You were surprised and albeit excited by his offer, but you decided not to go out drinking with a famous guy in the middle of the afternoon. Something something responsible adult.

"A drink? Oh, I don't know about that sir... It's rather late."

He scoffed and exhaled, a puff of smoke engulfed you as you coughed. "Don't be such a square." He looked at your face again whilst bringing the stick up to his lips once more, "And don't call me sir, makes me seem old. Call me Vince," He paused, "Or Vox, I don't really give a rats ass."

You nodded and took a small step away from him in a pathetic attempt to get away from the smoke. He smirked.

"I take it you don't smoke?"

You shook your head

"Look at you, I'm not surprised." He took another draw of his cigarette, "So, about that drink?"

You were going to be honest, you couldn't say no. He was so unbelievably pushy that it was practically impossible to turn him down without feeling like shit afterwards. He was THE Vox, America's beloved host! How dare you even think of saying no. So here you were, in his luxurious house, sat on his couch that probably cost more than your entire living room, and with a glass of expensive scotch in hand that he generously poured you.

He returned with his own glass and sat down next to you, laying his free arm behind your head. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving yours,

"You're a pretty thing, can't believe you haven't been casted already, or snatched up by some of the big dogs like Vogue." He said, a smile plastered on his face. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

_____

As he predicted, you and Vox did indeed get on well, normally chatting (gossiping) about who knows what in his dressing room after work. He had told you about his old job as a TV salesmen, and how he has this weird hatred for radios. Something about them being outdated and boring. You never understood. He learnt a lot about you too, your past relationships, your family, your favourite animals - you two grew close and he relished in the idea of getting even closer. The network had given you another job since you could only appear on Vox's show so many times. It was a higher paying job but not all that stressful since you now had someone to talk to about it.

The press had caught wind of your friendship and naturally began to speculate on it. You won his gameshow 3 times now, maybe you simply slept with him in order to get the answers? Maybe it was luck? Are you two truly just friends or are you dating? Or just putting on a show?

Vox loved it, he loved your flushed face whenever you'd read the title of a gossip paper involving you and your new friend, he loved touching you a little more intimately whenever you two were hanging out in public, and he especially enjoyed kissing your hand or cheek under the guise of being a gentleman in front of any fans that just so happened to meet them out and about. Luckily for you, these rumours went nowhere and remained as simple speculation. Did he want you? yes, he couldn't even deny it. You were funny and understanding, even when he wasn't in a good mood. You knew so much about him and he knew so much about you - the fact that you were gorgeous was just a plus. Additionally, you were fantastic for his public image; a darling little thing like you attached to his hip just fuelled his already massive ego since he loved showing you off. The only problem was - you were as dense as a brick. He often got a little frustrated since his flirtatious efforts were fruitless; you couldn't tell if he was being for real or just acting for publicities sake, so you opted on just ignoring his romantic (and sexual) remarks towards you.

And don't think for a second that you'll be getting a real soppy confession from him either. He would buy you expensive clothes and take you out to fancy dinners, he would hold your hand while you crossed the street together and he would cuss anybody out if they were pissing you off. His feelings for you would be confirmed by him sloppily kissing you on his desk one random afternoon after a few drinks and tears; maybe not the most romantic way to say "I love you" but it was close enough for him and close enough for you too.