#''there is no physical way i am your father or even related to you''

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[nmakii]

hello! it is me again

What do you think if Alastor had a breeding fetish? (Idk if that's how it's written, English is not my native language 😿) oops! It would be nice if you brought some of that to the second part of "no one's better than I am" __if you wanted to ;)

| thanks for your time|

TYING YOU TO ME… ᡣ𐭩

— having you return to alastor, he was more than ecstatic. but, he has to make sure you don’t run off again.

— includes semi-nsfw n pregnancy… i dont condone alastors actions!!

alastor does not want kids. he isn’t against them, but he is rather busy. if he were to be asked, he wouldn’t be the best father either. he doesn’t have much of an idea of how to discipline children, nor does he enjoy playing.

oh, but with his pretty wife home, alastor has to make sure she stays, shouldn’t he? we wouldn’t want another man sweeping you off your feet. neither would he want you running off to the newspapers knowing his little secret— alastor would rather raze the town than hurt his little doe more than necessary.

oh, and, not to mention how gorgeous you’d look; a motherly glow radiating from your skin as you grow a child inside you— a child that was the mixed blood of you and alastor. how you would look so pretty rocking your child to sleep, alastor standing behind you, holding your waist and keeping steady.

alastor gazed at you in awe as you wiped the kitchen counter clean. he took your face in the palm of his hands, kissing you deeply and lovingly, as if your little rebellious incident had never happened.

“alastor? what’s wrong..?” you looked to him confused. “nothing’s amiss at all, dear. just admiring the sights.” he hummed, holding you by the waist as he pushes you onto the now-clean kitchen counters.

as his hands trail further, undoing the knot of your apron— he placed kisses down your neck. “i love you so very much, darling.” he sighed. “say you’re mine, won’t you? say that you belong to me as i do to you.” he pleaded.

your breath hitched as you hesitated. “i… i’m yours, alastor.” you let out, heart stopping a beat as shivers were sent down your spine. did you truly fall in love with him? alastor groaned, smiling widely at your saccharinely sweet words. “ahaha! oh, my dear…” he laughed ecstatically, almost predatorily.

“may i?” he asked, holding the zipper of your dress between his fingers. as you nodded timidly, he noticed your chaste behavior. “what’s wrong, dear? nervous?” he mused. “no… it’s just… i didn’t expect you of all people to… have sexual relations.” you said, slowly as you pick the right words.

“hmph, i’m not particularly fond of them.” was all that alastor said. and though, for the most part, it was true; engaging such physical acts is… repulsive to say the very least. whatever was necessary to keep you in this house. even if he had to make you bear his child in order to do so.

because… this is love, isn’t it? alastor loves you so very much, he’s willing to give you his everything. even the things he wouldn’t want to give.

he pulled you off of the counter, bringing you to the bedroom and he lays you down. taking out a condom. after all, you still have to stay safe.

fuck, how did this happen? you sat, shaken in your doctor’s office as she removed the gloves from her hands. so, it was true? you were… pregnant?

the very thought made you sick to your stomach. that last encounter 3 weeks ago… there was protection. alastor is always very attentive to important matters such as this, there’s no way that your contraceptive wouldn’t have worked unless… it was tampered with.

the thought of him doing such a thing behind your back brought you anger. simmering inside you as you waited for him to return home. “oh darling, i’m home! don’t you look absolutely magnificent?” he grinned.

“break it up, alastor!” you frowned. “oh? what ever have i done?” he asked, big eyes as looked so innocent— he wasn’t even hiding his guilt! “you… messed with the contraceptive, didn’t you?” you said, standing from your seat at the table.

“hmm… so you are with child after all?” he grinned ear to ear. “so, what if i did?” he shrugged. "it’s not as if you have another means to live, i’m the only one who will take care of you.”

“so you did..!” your face scrunched in anger, ready to rip this man to shreds. “ahaha… calm down, dear. all this stress isn’t well for our child.” he rested his hands on your shoulder and stomach, gentle, almost soothing— almost able to make you forget the ordeal he put you in.

“don’t you want this child to grow up with a father? i’ll take care of everything you could ever want for, my cute little doe. just stay here in this house, and we’ll be a happy family.” he said, sweet nothings falling out of his mouth. how foolish honestly.

did you truly think you could nurture that monster into a man?

[a-small-safe-place]

Then, Nothing.

Yandere Cullen family

A/N: Renesmee is a platonic yandere. The rest of the Cullens are romantic yanderes for you, but it is mostly centered on Bella and Edward right now.

You met Renesmee in a park. You were babysitting a child for a family, and she happened to approach you. This child looked too grown to be the age she said but also looked too young to be anything older, and something about her was off-putting in an uncanny valley way. However, something compelled you to engage with her. She said she did not want to play with any of the other children. Renesmee said they were too ingenuous. That seemed like too big of a word for such a little girl. She talked your ear off, though. She said she does not "talk" much at home, and that it is easier just to be not verbal. That worried you; was this child being abused and forced to stay silent at home? Who even were her parents?

As if on cue, a very beautiful man and woman approached. They looked too young to be the girl’s parents, but also too similar to her to not be her parents. They were also more inhuman in appearance than Renesemee. The mom, Bella, was more welcoming than Renesmee’s father, Edward, who chose to remain standoffish.

Bella smiled and told you, “Renesmee doesn’t usually talk to people besides her family; you must be special.” Her tone sounded as if she had been flirting with you. You chose to ignore it. Maybe just because she was so inhumanly beautiful made it seem like she was flirting. “I don’t know about how special I am, but your daughter is certainly unique; she seems so bright for her age.”

Edward finally spoke up, but in a flat and uninterested tone, “she is; we are very proud.” An awkward silence settled over the area. Thankfully, the child you had been babysitting came up ready to go home.

You began to see them more and more around town. It seemed as if Renesmee could sniff you out in a second if she happened to be in the same area as you. You were relieved that you did not live in the area and lived in a part of town that was in a much lower tax bracket. If you did live in the area, it would not be surprising if Bella, Renesemee, or even Edward showed up at your doorstep. Edward was the most normal out of the three. Bella’s behavior was nice, but something about it felt awkward with a sinister undertone. If she looked different, it would seem more sincere, but something about all three of them made you want to run away as fast as you could despite their beauty. A driver for the family that you babysat for had seen them when picking up you and the child and joked that Bella and Edward were probably related given that they looked similar. He loved to gossip and asked you a million questions about them. You shuddered at the idea. That could explain why their daughter was so peculiar, but wouldn’t incest result in more physical deformities and not just strange behavior from a child? Even if they were related, they did not seem to be that close, definitely not siblings. Everything about them seemed the same but also different.

You tried your best not to think too much about it, but it got to the point where you would see at least one of them anytime you were out on that side of town. You were fine trying to avoid them; each time your excuse was along the lines of “oh they need this kiddo back home!” or some other similar response. That is until you ended up getting fired. The mom refused to say why, and she reacted in disgust when she saw you. Before this, both of the parents enjoyed having you as their sitter. It was a harsh dismissal. You decided to stop by the grocery store before going home. You needed something, anything, to make you feel better about your loss of work, and with the influence your last family had in the community, it was clear you would not be babysitting for a while. Or so you thought.

“Hello,” Edward’s voice sounded from behind you. He did not seem happy to be there. “Sorry,” You mumbled, scooting out of the way, assuming you were in front of something he needed. “I have a job for you,” He said cryptically. You turned around to face him feeling confused. Edward continued to talk. “It will pay well. I know you take care of children, and I wanted to take Bella somewhere on a date, and we do not have a sitter for Renesmee, and she has warmed up to you.”

“You want me to babysit?” You asked somewhat dumbly causing him to smile a bit and chuckle. “Yes, she has warmed up to you, and Bella thinks you are trustworthy. The only catch is that you have to care for her at our home. You may not leave when you are watching her, even if you have an emergency.” You weren't a fan of that stipulation, but you figured they would allow you to call them to come back in a dire situation.

“Okay, fine. When do I need to be there, and is this going to be a regular thing?” You asked. He seemed a little irritated that you're asking these questions. “Tonight. You will start now. It will be a regular job. You can follow me out to our house.”

You arrived at his and Bella’s home. It looked like it was designed by the best architect. Renesmee greeted you outside. “You're here! We are going to have so much fun! Come one! Come meet my family.” As she is dragging you in, Edward is driving away. He did not even mention when they will be back or how much you were getting paid exactly. He was probably making sure you would not take the money and leave. There are people inside. Four people, two guys, and two girls sit on the couch and sofa. You hear a few people in the kitchen. “These are my aunts and uncles! That's Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie; they are married, and then Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper; they are married too. My Grandma Esme and Grandpa Carlisle are in the kitchen. Grandma wanted to make dinner for you… I mean us.” Two of them smile at you, the two dark-haired ones. The two blondes look mad and somewhat disgusted. This is weird. You have never babysat with people around. Why could the family not watch Renesmee? She seemed to like them just as much as you. Renesmee pulls you into the kitchen. Her grip is surprising for a little girl. A blonde man and a woman with caramel-colored hair are cooking. They look far too young to be a grandma and grandpa. Something about all of these people seems so familiar. As if you have seen them before. Not just on the rich side of town but on the poor side of town too, in your neighborhood. They both introduce themselves and clearly know your name as they greet you. “Are you hungry?” Esme asks, handing you a plate of food. It smells divine, but this has to be a trap. Most families prefer you not to eat a bunch on the job.

Renesmee grabs a plate and begins to eat. “It's so good! Grandma worked hard on it! You have to try it!” It is impossible to say no to her for some reason. You take a plate and take a few bites. It tastes wrong. There are hints of good flavor, but it is heavily covered up by the taste of medicine. The gravity of the situation hits you. “I need to excuse myself; I need a bathroom break.” The shakiness in your voice is clear. You pretend to go to the restroom, but book it to the door when you're out of sight. You see your keys are missing; even your phone has disappeared from your pocket. You step outside only to see your car missing. Suddenly you're grabbed from behind. This person is very strong but knows how to hold someone down without injuring them. You're stuck with a needle. Your life does not flash before your eyes, but each time you've seen these freaks in public flashes in your mind as your vision spins. A wave of calm lays over you. It is unwelcome because it feels unnatural, but it is too comforting for you to care as your vision goes in and out. You see some flashes of memories that do not belong to you. They are from a lower angle, so it has to be from Renesmee's mind. It is Carlisle assuring her that you are going to be safe because they all love you as much as she does.

Then, nothing. You're out like a light.

[tess-talks-inc]

On the Topic of Telemachus’s age:

First off preface lmao I’m a stranger on the internet if you want to see this and be like “I don’t care” more power to you this isn’t to condemn it’s more like my explanation? I guess? Of why Telemachus being represented as an adult is important to the context of the story and also to me.

Like obviously once again I acknowledge artistic interpretation, and Telemachus being young is important to the story as well and is part of the role he serves as a comparison to Odysseus, but like sometimes the way some artists draw him makes him look pre-pubescent and like… I understand what you’re doing, and honestly I respect it and I hope you are having fun, but I am holding your hands when I say that him being a young adult with that attitude is so so so important to his character and his relatability.

Adulthood isn’t something that magically appears one day, taking all of your dreams, immaturity, and weakness away. Telemachus embodies that- at twenty years old, he should be inheriting a portion of his father’s house and assisting in its running. He should, for all intents and purposes, have been a full and functional independent adult looking at purely his age. However, he is both literally and mentally stuck in limbo- his father is lost, so he cannot inherit in the case of his father’s death because Odysseus’ status is MIA, and internally he knows (literally mentioned book 1 of the odyssey and in Legendary) that if he reaches for that authority as an adult, the suitors will kill him. He doesn’t feel like he can, or that he is even on equal standing to the suitors as an adult man, he cannot see himself as one like they are, and it’s why he imagines his dad doing it instead. He wants to be saved, a childlike desire, even though he has advanced to a point where he himself can do something physically. That’s why, in the odyssey, Athena tells him explicitly that he can do something about the suitors, and lays out a plan for him. She says that he is no longer a child to his face, and the Telemacheia thus begins to be a coming of age story in which he matures, and later is registered as a threat of the suitors. He is a young adult yes, and he still has aspects of his young self (idealization of his father, daydreaming, him being quick to frustration), but him being an adult who realizes that he can do something and can understand the way he is childish is important and central to his character arc.

His arc is him growing into his skin, adulthood no longer being something that fits him like loose clothes and only a description of his physical state, but something that now is tailored to him, something that feels close to right.

Honestly, I think this aspect of him being an adult while still holding onto these aspects of childishness is where Legendary and We’ll be fine falls short in adapting his character. I understand why, because while he is introduced he is not the true central character of the Saga- it’s Athena and how he affects her, that’s what’s most important. Also, once again, he was just introduced. He’s not matured yet, but he’s realizing he needs to. I still love the songs and the saga, because it’s a good adaptation that poses interesting questions, but yeah. Telemachus is v clearly a young adult and that hasn’t translated over sound yet, which I think is why this whole age debacle is happening alongside the uwu-ifying of the man.

TLDR: Telemachus is a young adult and he acts like it due to his blend of childishness and slowly gained maturity. You can draw him and see him as a child if you want, have fun with it, but at least internally understand how his 20 years of age plays into his arc a of him maturing into manhood outside of your own interpretation of him :D

[perotovar]

A Writing Challenge from August 1st - September 21st

"Erin, what is Frith?"

Frith, is an Old Norse term, typically used among friends and kinsmen, that would often be used in a diplomatic way to bring peace.

Or, more plainly, “a mutual agreement to avoid causing each other physical, emotional, or mental harm, and to avoid negatively affecting each other’s honor, worth, and luck.”

This is meant to be a long-lasting agreement among those that take part.

Now, I’ve spent a decent amount of time to know, in this fandom, that that could very well be wishful thinking, but I’m choosing to stay positive here. It’s no secret that there have been things happening lately that are less than stellar, to put it mildly.

But I’m not here to talk about that.

I’m here to have fun and be creative so that’s what we’re going to do!

I’ve had this idea brewing for several months, and it’s a subject matter that’s very near and dear to my heart. In my personal life, I’m a practicing Norse Pagan. For those that are unfamiliar, I like to describe it as worshiping the Old Ones. I follow the teachings of the Norse Gods.

Why am I telling you this? Well, since this is something that’s so close to me, and we’re all here as fans of one Pedro Pascal and his work, I figured why not combine the two? Initially, the goal was to write all these fics myself, but when I discovered just how exhausting and time-consuming that would be, I decided to include all of you!

I failed to do a follower milestone to thank you all and celebrate, so take this as my thank you for sticking around here and showing support to my fics and gifs.

Alright, so how is this going to work?

huge shoutout to @scenaaario and @kedsandtubesocks for all your help on this you lovely humans ♥

Another important aspect of Heathenry (Norse Paganism) is reciprocity. “Gifts given for gifts received.” So, you all wouldn’t just be giving me a bunch of fics to read. I’ve made something for those of you who will participate as well. This is an equal exchange.

I’ve paired up several of the PPCU with Norse Gods and made moodboards for each of them. I have reasons for matching them up the way I have, and I’ll go into more detail as to why later.

So, yes, this is a writing challenge at its core, but it’s also a way for me to show a little peace of myself with you all and for us all to be creative and have fun! Maybe you’ll step out of your comfort zone a little and that’s okay!

There is an expectation that something will be written/received, so if you don’t think you’ll be able to participate, that’s totally okay. There’s no pressure at all, and I appreciate any support or boosting to get to those that would like to!

Okay, enough of all that, which Gods have I chosen to match up with the Boys?

I’m glad you asked! Matching up traits and personalities was really fun, and really challenging. Nothing is a 1:1 match, but that’s okay. Nothing is supposed to be, and that’s where some of the challenge may come in.

For those that are participating in the challenge, you’ll send me an ask declaring which God/Pedro Boy you’d like to write. In return, and my part of the reciprocity, you’ll receive a moodboard to use for your fic, and a little blurb telling you a little more about the God and why I’ve chosen that character to pair them with. I’m hoping some of them will be a little obvious, but I’m aware not everyone is as familiar with the Gods as I am.

There are only 14 slots and therefore only 14 moodboards made, so once someone has been claimed, that’s it. As much as I’d love to have even more people participate, I don’t think I can make that many things lol.

If you’d still like to contribute somehow, I’m open to any questions you may have about the Gods (and maybe how the boys relate), because I’m a big ol’ nerd and love talking about this shit.

So, who’s who?

Maxwell Lord – Odin [Óðinn] (The All-Father and God of wisdom, magic, war, death, but also cunning and trickery.) claimed by @missredherring

Pero Tovar – Thor [Þórr] (God of thunder, lightning, sacred groves and trees, strength, and the protection of humankind.) claimed by @morallyinept

Max Phillips – Loki (The Trickster God of mischief and chaos.) claimed by @qveerthe0ry

Oberyn Martell – Freyja (Goddess of love, sensuality, sex, passion, war, and magic.) claimed by @guiltyasdave

Javier Peña – Freyr (God of fertility, harvests, and peace.) claimed by @almostfoxglove

Ezra – Týr (God of victory, law, and justice.) claimed by @marisferasiop

Marcus Moreno – Frigg (Goddess of domestic life, marriage, and maternal energy.) claimed by @joelalorian

Joel Miller – Hel (Goddess of death and guide to the underworld.) claimed by @beefrobeefcal

Dieter Bravo – Bragi (God of poetry, oral traditions, and the Skaldic Poet of the Aesir.) claimed by @schnarfer

Javi Gutierrez – Baldr (God of light and purity.) claimed by @thesluttylittleknee

Dave York – Vidar [Víðarr] (The Silent God of vengeance.) claimed by @kedsandtubesocks

Din Djarin – Heimdall [Heimdallr] (Gatekeeper of Asgard, the gods’ stronghold within Valhalla. God of guardianship, vigilance, and protection.) claimed by @djarinmuse

Frankie Morales – Skadi [Skaði] (Goddess of winter, skiing, bow-hunting, and mountains.) claimed by @agentmarcuspike

Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels – Ægir (Brewmaster of the sea.) claimed by @lotusbxtch

extras:

Marcus Pike – Idun [Iðunn] (Goddess of eternal youth and sacred apples.) claimed by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Silva – Ymir (First being in existence and the reason for the creation of Earth.) claimed by @yopossum

Santiago Garcia – Fenrir (Most famous of all the wolves in Norse Mythology and the bringer of Ragnarok.) claimed by @for-a-longlongtime

There are no rules for your fic itself. You can write whatever and however much you want. All I ask is that some aspects of the Gods stay intact, otherwise this would just be any old writing challenge.

I wanna see you guys get creative with what the Gods offer. How are they speaking to you? What energy/vibes are you getting off of them? Run with it.

Now, I’m posting this the day before Lammas, the Pagan holiday that often takes place in the Summer, August 1st. I think it would round out the summer nicely if everything gets published around Mabon, September 21st, the holiday that celebrates the Fall equinox.

That gives everyone almost two months to write their stories. I’m hoping that’s a decent time? If it’s not, I’m not picky and typically run on Pagan Standard Time, so if it’ll take you a little longer, just let me know and it’ll probably be fine.

Thank you for sticking with my ramble, and I wish you all gọ̄der hēle (good luck)!

And remember, have fun!

[byemambo]

4Minutes EP. 4 - My Takeaways

For the sake of organization: my future takeaways will be under #mambo.4minyap (get it? hehehehehe) cause it seems to be hitting the radar for lots of folks. It's also an interesting series, and I like talking and taking the scenic route while doing so!

Compositional Framing: The Relationship of Oppression

We got the most information about Korn's character and status within the story from this episode thus far: but the visual devices popped out the most for me (I am an artist after all LOL). I mentioned camera angles, specifically bird's eye view in my episode 1 takeaways, but we're met with a different element: shot sizes! I'm not a filmmaker so please go easy on me (my credentials include my storyboarding and animated illustration classes so my knowledge is limited), but what remains consistent throughout this episode is Korn's relationship with authority and power through the usage of establishing shot size, which lots of his scenes with various characters have varying heights.

Tonkla (Authoritarian) vs. Great (Equals)

The way Korn approaches these two characters have their obvious differences in relation to himself, but the common thread is that these two characters are individuals Korn should love. It's expected to love your family unconditionally, and arguably, love your partner even more than that. But as we've seen the story play out, starting from Korn and Great's family dynamics (which I've also covered in episode 1!): love has always been conditional.

Their relationship is revealed from a flashback that Korn and Tonkla are established boyfriends since their university days, however, dating in secrecy. This further contributes to Tonkla's stress and anxiety within the relationship, slowly escalating once he realizes the mistreatment he's tolerating. I found the symbolism between the pet cat's collar and Korn's "senior chief" sash interesting: there is ownership involved, which is mistaken for partnership.

From the jump, Korn doesn't view Tonkla as an equal partner to him, but someone who he can assert dominance over (which is primarily physical but also emotional). By displaying acts of love such as helping Tonkla through his first time and being present during Tonkla's loss with his deceased pet cat, what seems innocent and kindhearted on the surface actually has more context (which due to the 30 image limit, y'all are going to have to watch the episode for yourself and take my word for it LOL).

In the university flashback, Korn mentions keeping the cat's collar as a memento, but he's not the one reaching in and taking the collar off the cat: Tonkla is. Tonkla also isn't the one who puts on the "senior chief" sash himself: Korn is. In both scenarios, Korn is the one making decisions for Tonkla during his moments of vulnerability (both in a state of grief and during a sexual act). I checked out this article to make sure my facts are straight (got too many fun facts up my sleeve), but this approach is how cults target and recruit their victims:

Possible situational vulnerabilities include illness, the death of a loved one, breakup of an important relationship, loss of a job, or moving to another city, state or country.

Is this deliberate, or is it Korn's act of kindness? We can only infer at this moment where Korn falls on the value spectrum, but he's definitely a morally gray character (you can argue with your mom idc). During the after care scene, Tonkla mentions his father (which is alive during this flashback, but not presently living during the funeral ceremony) and moving to a new place with his younger brother due to his father's alcoholism (and possible physical abuse but this is only an assumption). Korn handles this interaction by providing financial stability (cough cough financial abuse) for Tonkla in the meantime, establishing a relationship rooted in give-and-take, debt and IOUs, under the guise of a caring romantic relationship. Given that Tonkla and his brother have suffered from trauma relating to family dynamics and enduring dysfunction into adulthood, I can see why Tonkla had become completely blindsided to this level of power imbalance that is simply all too familiar.

Once Tonkla realizes that Korn is only present in his life for his own self-interest, and access, he stands up against his oppressor, recognizing that there is another individual that is displaying signs of love and care (which isn't 100% healthy, but it's progress nonetheless) that Korn has bread crumbed him for all these years.

This confrontational scene is highly intense and emotional, which is reinforced by Korn's physical stature towering over Tonkla in most of the scenes we've seen thus far in each episode and usually ending with Korn continuing to be enabled. These scenes are usually shot at angles such as panning from above to reveal Korn's power over Tonkla, who's usually shot from over-the-shoulder and panned down. However, once Tonkla finally takes his stand against him, the camera follows him and frames the shot as a close up, tightening the gap between Korn as the oppressor and Tonkla as the oppressed.

Once Korn leaves and returns to question Nan about the leaked information: we're shown a similar staging of Korn physically towering over his victim, but from a cowboy shot slightly panned upward. However, the framing suggests from size relationship alone: Korn is nothing more but a victim himself playing the role of the villain. He is in the same predicament as his own victims, but living in a state of falsehood and denial as he has been trained to believe it is his birth right to take over his father's business (not even taking the time to question the morality behind such a business). What remains behind choosing moral righteousness over injustice: the disappointment of living as a failure and abandonment of his family system, the only consistently good thing in his life that is his younger brother Great. It's heartbreaking because we can see somewhat of goodness from his beaconing of retrieving information without the reliance of violent methods (which is unsuccessful and out of context, rather pitiful?), and I really do hope that he will be able to redeem himself (but I wouldn't completely write off the series if he does not deserve redemption).

However, the greatest loss is Tonkla's revelation of his own entrapment: reminiscing the memories held by the collar but in an entirely new perspective. The composition of him looking at himself in the mirror is hauntingly beautiful but full of melancholy: the mirror serves as a moment of literal self reflection, the collar reminding him of living as a possession rather than a person, the frame of the mirror serves as a metaphorical cage. Now it's a matter of whether or not Tonkla will reclaim his power again and recognize that he's simply a bird confined in his cage, but the door is now wide open. Will he realize soon that he has his own wings to fly?

Moral Value: A Hidden Responsibility

We've seen in this episode Great having a better understanding of his gift, establishing his moral compass and duty to act with integrity and with a strong sense of justice. Seeing such strong character development within these past few episodes is breathtaking (especially if you've been a long time supporter of Bible and just his journey as an actor). We have a good sense of Great recognizing his autonomy and relationship with free will, contrasted to how passive and reluctant he was in doing the "right" thing and being given a second chance to make a different decision.

Tyme's motive reveal (I love being right hehe) after being confronted by Great's demand for why he attacked his brother became a turning point for Great to finally tap in and establish his innate desire for moral justice, especially after being told about Nan's captivity and being foreshown her demise once he found her location. What I found most interesting during the initial rescue of Nan from Samarn was just how "normal" his conduct was when addressing Great as the son of his upper head. How polite his language was while holding a gun and standing next to a pool of his victim's blood, to just before Tyme's appearance where Great becomes the voice of reason amongst the chaos.

"Why can't I?"

It's such a simple response, but it's so loaded with depth and hidden meaning: it makes you sit back and also wonder...why can't I?

Great becomes an individual questioning the circumstances surrounding him, enabling himself to experience change. When his "friend" attempted murder and brought him along for the ride, when he experienced his first few heart attacks and hitting the woman seeking unalivement, when he is confronted by his brother's attacker and doesn't blindly dedicate his loyalty to his brother for the mere fact that he's family, when he sees Nan's predestined death in the hands of the enemy (which you can say that it really be your own people).

What makes Great such a fascinating character to me is just how dynamic and determined he's become after being gifted with foreseeing the future. Having such excitement in his awareness to his free will makes me enjoy him more as a character, that our lives are not predetermined to live and die for, that we have morals and values that must be considered and analyzed for its legitimacy, that we have integrity to do what's right without entitlement to self-interest, that we have the shared responsibility to criticize the world in which was built for us, but our jobs to upkeep and maintain. I'm excited to see what's in store for Great moving forward, and I'm so happy for Bible and Jes to play such characters.

Even though the lighting is similar to how Korn and Tonkla's flashback was, the visible warmth is even more obvious with how these two established their relationship. That in contrast to KornTonkla's ownership, TymeGreat is partnership (we haven't reached boyfriend status yet but it's coming!) How Tyme is willing to accept and make room for Great's excitement and passion, to hold it gently, to cherish it as a fleeting moment. Their NC scene in comparison to KornTonkla and WinTonkla is simply ethereal: the level of shared vulnerability and intimacy warmed my heart. From the lighting to the shots and down to the chosen score, the director does a fantastic job of creating such dissonance between all the pairs (which lots of people like to write off NC scenes as unnecessary and vulgar but it's just blatant purity cultural standards imposing on all of us and I need to dedicate another time to talk about it). The visual storytelling thus far has me anticipating more from the story as the details continue to establish the worlds revealed to us.

Tonkla's Brother: The Arrival of Home

I'm sure we all saw this coming but the reveal is heartwrenching. To see such a sweet face and scene filled with hope and longing with its immediate contrast to harsh reality, my heart goes out to Tonkla. Some may infer that there's a separate timeline that exists alongside reality, but I think it's possibly a hyperrealistic hallucination or dream by Tonkla (since the last scene we see of him was just before heading to bed for the night but also his intense codependency on drugs). Of course on the surface, people can infer that this is simply Dome returning home from recovering from his injuries: however, I interpreted it philosophically. Dome arrived home for his soul to rest.

We're shown in the first half of the episode of Tonkla mourning after Dome's body is cremated (I'm also Buddhist but I'm nationally American and ethnically Vietnamese so my interpretation of the religion will have its differences), which now establishes Dome's physical remains returning to the earth which his soul can no longer return to. I imagined Dome's soul has reincarnated and given access to the Western Pureland (since Tonkla was physically outside in the warm sunlight versus his more cool toned coloring within his scenes), only hoping that he actually experienced resting on his deathbed ready to enter the afterlife with a smile. Now we know that Tonkla's fingerprints were already in the investigation database: we need to know why and what crimes he had already committed before the murder shown as the opening in episode 2. This is definitely going to affect Win's current dynamic with Tonkla, given that they're now living together and he has access to Tonkla's home and possessions. Maybe we'll experience another shift in character development like how Great was, but possibly targeting Korn if the company is involved in Dome's case somehow.

Honorable Mentions: Heart Attack Transition

This scene was literally so fucking cool. The match cuts and in and outs of the inversion (def going to have trigger warnings for future GIF sets) were literally out of this world, especially when I find out it's from the freaking painting within the hospital hallway that is just a prop on the surface. I wonder who suggested such a transition and I wonder how they'll depict Great's future heart attacks and visions. The VFX team is working overtime and I'm so impressed so please give them their flowers!

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons: He Will Move Heaven and Hell

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another chapter! This one, the base headcanons, and traits of Yandere Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel! So wish me luck, anyway I hope you enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar From Hazbin Hotel is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and NOT to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it (You know who you are). Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life.) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lucifer Morningstar From Hazbin Hotel- 

.Lucifer has focused it looks like his last seven-ish years on not being a very active king of hell. 

.Focusing on building his ducks and burying his depression. 

.He does not have a LOT of people he sees on a day-to-day basis. 

.Except for you, the person who is on his staff. It is your job to make sure that the king is taken care of. 

.So you were more or less a babysitter and assistant to the king of hell. 

.He was fond of you, okay that was a lie, he is right down smitten and obsessed with you. 

.You are his ray of sunshine in the darkness of hell and he adores you. 

.You have been with him for the last several years since his wife had gone missing. 

.He had a strained relationship with his daughter and often talks to you about her. 

.Telling you all the times he had with her. He just wants you to be part of his and his daughter's life. 

.He of course still loves Lilith, but he has a love for you, where he NEEDS You. 

.He often makes you ducks, he has given you so many duck-related things as gifts. 

.He loves to spoil you, and a lot of time, it is something that is shaped like a duck or is duck themed, or is covered in ducks. 

.He also loves to make your caramel apples as a treat. 

.He will give you the best, because what is better than pure angelic power, especially from the man who so happens to love you the MOST? 

.He does not want to share you and gets extremely guarded and protective of you when he deems a rival is around to threaten his claim to you. 

.He is a lovable dork, and with his yandere side, this makes him also a TOTAL Puppy dog yandere. 

.The slightest biggest love and affection and or attention that you show him he just gobbles up. He is very much "MY DARLING WANTS TO BE WITH ME!!!!! TAKE THAT DEPRESSION" 

.He is also very much a physical touch kind fo romance, as Viv has confirmed. 

.He loves to show his affection to you, with physical touch. 

.Kissing up your arm, holding you in his arms, anything and everything. Even as things as simple as a graze of the hand. 

.He loves to sing for you, writing romantic songs. 

.But man oh man, can he be petty when it comes to rivals. 

.Such as if Alastor were to say you and him were close. 

.Who the fuck did that sinner think he was! 

.He will have a constant dislike for anyone who tries to say they are something with you. 

.He deals with rivals in two main ways. The first way, Being super fucking petty fr fr. 

.Or by legit summoning hellfire which can burn them away and actually kill them.

.He does not play around when he gets to the point. 

And if the person does hurt you, he will use the hell fire on that soul to kill them. 

.He will show no mercy. 

.You are the apple of his eye, his sweet love, a reason for him to stay in hell even if he was allowed back to heaven he would never go back because he adores you. 

.He was once a dreamer, but he had lost those dreams until he found you, you gave him hope and the ability to dream again. 

.To strive to be a better father, a better husband, and a better king. 

.He would share you with Lilith 1000 percent. BUT ONLY LILITH 

.He also will try and introduce you to Charlie as you will one day be her future step-parent. 

.He is very nervous about this that is for sure. 

.When he does confess to you he is beyond nervous and awkward. 

.Because he is worried if it will go right or not. 

.If you accept his feelings he takes you in his arms and flies into the air spinning around and kissing you. 

.If you turn him down he feels his heart shatter, but he will ask if you are two are still good, but he is not giving up. 

.He will try his best to "Mend" things and then slowly court you, so the next time he confesses to you, you say yes. 

.He does this until he gets a yes. 

.He is determined, and also a very protective yandere as well. 

.He will face heaven to keep you by his side, so if somehow you got redeemed he would storm heaven and bring you back. 

.He is not losing you, you belong to him and will be his future spouse, future co-parent, and future co-ruler. 

.He will move heaven and hell for you, that is a fact! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[writerblue275]

PLEAAAASE! I read both heartsteel becoming dad's and my heart AUGHHHH please continue the series!!! Maybe girl-dad Yone?! Who knows. Might be a lot though considering Yone's brother's with Yasuo who's in his own music group. (True damage needs a comeback fr.) BUT AAAAAA

(Guess who’s back. Back again!) I had such a lovely time writing Sett’s and Kayn’s Headcanons for this series, I’m absolutely thrilled to continue it! I’m so glad you enjoyed them both, Anon! Also HEAVY agree on True Damage needing a comeback!!! 💙 (Ok now that I got the calm response out of the way hehehe). AHHHHHH You definitely don’t have to ask me twice!!! Again, I don’t even want kids IRL, but holy hell I’d have this man’s children SO FAST if I was his partner. He gives me dad(dy) energy and I think he’d be a phenomenal father.

Heartsteel!Yone becoming a dad (/with a pregnant!reader)

Previous Members: Sett, Kayn

Inspiration: Requested but again have we seen Yone???? Pure husband/dad material right there. When I started the series he was one of the ones who inspired me to do it (along with Sett).

Genre: Headcanons

Type: FLUFF

Gender: Technically gender neutral but there is of course discussion of a pregnant reader and carrying a pregnancy.

Tw: Discussion of pregnancies and any difficulties associated with pregnancies. Slight mention of fertility issues at the beginning. Swearing.

There’s always a risk of unexpected pregnancy if you are sexually active and the circumstances are there for pregnancy, but out of all members, Yone is definitely the one who is the most careful. Now that doesn’t mean you and him wouldn’t enjoy yourselves before getting to the point of starting a family, please don’t misunderstand. Yone is not a selfish man. 😏

But otherwise he’s extremely careful and so are you. Having a child is such an extreme life change and he’s of the mindset that being as “prepared” as possible (emotionally, financially, physically) isn’t a bad thing.

Once he’s sure that you and him are in a solid place to start a family, he’d talk to you about it. Now of course before this moment he’d know whether or not you even want to have kids. So this conversation is just more of a “I think we’re finally in a really good spot to start a family. What do you think?” sort of thing.

And once the two of you do start trying, Yone’d be the biggest supporter if things are a little rough and it’s taking longer than you hope to get pregnant. He’d never let you blame yourself or your body, just as you don’t let him blame himself or his body. Things happen and pregnant or not, he loves you so damn much.

Regardless of how long it took to get pregnant, once you are pregnant, he’d be absolutely thrilled.

You can get so creative in how you tell him your pregnant, too. And you know who’d love to help you tell him in a way he relates to? Aphelios. Phel would gladly help you make a little song for Yone to surprise him.

Yone just seems like he’d be such a phenomenal partner to you while you’re pregnant. Something about him just seems so grounded and secure, and he absolutely wants to be a rock for you to lean on. It’s probably the age/maturity (A/N: Yes I know he’s only in his early-mid thirties. He’s not much older than I am. But still. People can change significantly as they go through their twenties into their thirties. I’m a significantly different person at 27 than I was in/directly after college.)

Yone already was your rock before pregnancy but he is even more so now. He realizes while things are changing for him, it’s almost 10x crazier for you since you’re carrying the baby.

Because of that, he’s remarkably calm during your hormone swings, etc. He just calmly figures out what might help and does it (with your consent ofc).

It did take him a little bit to get used to your cravings. He’d heard pregnancy cravings could be weird, but flaming hot Cheetos dipped in vanilla ice cream??? Yeah that threw him for a bit of a loop. (He still got you the Cheetos and ice cream though because he loves you.)

When the two of you tell the rest of Heartsteel, they’re not super shocked. They’re so happy for both of you, but yeah they saw the writing on the walls. They could tell Yone was ready to settle down with you very early on in your relationship.

Now of course Yone spends a lot of time in his studio. He has to, as a producer. But during your pregnancy, he creates a great home studio so he can work from home more often and be closer to you. He really makes the effort to be available to you as much as possible. He’ll take you to all appointments, help you with any physical side-effects of pregnancy, and just be there to help you process the wild emotions you’re feeling (those damn hormones). Whatever you need, he wants to help.

You know who else is surprisingly helpful? Yasuo! The True Damage DJ/Producer is so excited to become an uncle?? Like holy shit. (Lmao Yone lowkey threatens Yasuo not to spoil any of your kids too much….[Let’s be so for real though, Yasuo definitely still would.] TD Yasuo would be such a cool uncle.)

And Yasuo serves as a valued confidant for Yone whenever he needs to vent out his nervousness at becoming a dad. (Of course he’s nervous. Becoming a parent for the first time must be a nerve-wracking experience, even if you’ve “planned” for it.)

But anytime Yone can’t be with you for something (which is exceedingly rare, he really tries to free up as much time for you as possible) Yasuo is happy to step in and serve in the chauffeur or “door-dash” driver role for you!

But again, Yone will move hell and high water to be there for your appointments. Which is great because any exciting news he can get in real time. Including….:

Yone holds your hand and squeezes it soothingly as the sonographer moves the wand over your ever-so-slightly swollen belly.

“Is it cold, my love? The gel?” He asks softly, chuckling as you scrunch your nose and make a little face up at him.

“Yes it is! But hey, it’s the first time we can really see the baby since the dating ultrasound, so it’s worth it,” you respond.

“There they are!” The sonographer says, intently watching the screen.

Both your head and Yone’s head whip towards the screen, the joy between the two of you palpable as you see the dark area filled with what looks like a large-looking head. It’s hard to tell exactly what you’re looking at though.

“So that’s them? That’s our baby?” Yone asks, his voice containing a note of excitement which is very unlike his usual calm demeanor.

The tech looks at both of you and smiles. “Babies, actually.”

Your grip on Yone’s hand gets instantly tighter and you gasp as you register what she said. “W-wait did you just say babies??? With an s?? As in multiple??” Your question is a little breathless as you look up at Yone, whose eyes are wide and jaw is dropped in shock.

The sonographer chuckles softly and nods. “Two, actually. Twins. We must have missed the second one in the initial ultrasound since they were so small. Look here, you can see the differentiation of the placentas. And here are the two heads!” She shows you and Yone what she’s referring to on the large monitor as she speaks.

You look up at Yone who still looks a little dazed and has been quietly staring at the monitor. You’re almost a little nervous he’s gone into shock. “Yone, are you alright?” You ask gently as you briefly cup his cheek and turn his chin so he’s looking at you.

That small action seems to snap him out of whatever daze he was in and he quickly gathers you into a tight hug. “Holy shit we’re having twins, my love! Oh my god.”

You nod and whisper, “It seems we are. H-how do you feel? I’m both excited and a little terrified..” your voice fades off in a chuckle.

Yone kisses your forehead before pecking your lips. “(Y/N), I’m thrilled. Shocked, for sure, but I’m absolutely over the moon,” he murmurs reassuringly, already helping to soothe the spike of emotions you’re having at the news.

Absolute pandemonium ensues when you tell the the rest of Heartsteel that you and Yone are having twins. (With particular excitement from Aphelios and Alune.)

As for gender preferences? He doesn’t really care. He just wants healthy babies and as easy of a pregnancy/delivery as possible for you.

And you know what, maybe that no gender preference is a good thing because….

(*drumroll pleeeeeease*) You’re having a boy and a girl! (Again the news inspires particular excitement for Phel and Alune [who secretly have a bet on which baby will be older]).

Something cute Yone does is create music for the babies. While you’re sitting in his home studio and relaxing with your bump, he’s just playing/mixing some gentle instrumentals, writing one-of-a-kind lullabies for the babies. He really expresses the bulk of his feelings about becoming a dad through his music. And he makes sure to save anything he writes so they can be played later once the babies are actually here.

The Lamaze king. There’s no one better to help you remember and practice your Lamaze technicques. Again he just has such an unwavering/grounding presence.

And that calm and steady presence only cracks once during your pregnancy….when the babies decide to make their entrance into the world a little early (as multiples tend to do).

You waddle your way to his home studio door, knocking softly, but urgently.

“Come in!” You hear Yone’s voice call back.

Instead you just open the door, staying off of the carpeted floor of his studio and standing in the doorway. “Honey? Sorry to disturb you but it’s a little important.”

Yone turns and immediately catches onto the alarm in your expression, his eyes widening. “What happened? Are you alright?” He immediately rushes over to you.

You look up at him. “Y-Yone, my water just broke…”

You watch as he actually goes a little pale as his brain registers what you just said. “W-what?? N-now?! But you’re only 34 weeks along!”

You grip his arm. “I-I don’t think babies really care about sticking to a schedule, Yone. They come into the world when they decide to come into the world.”

You can see Yone’s brain immediately go into overdrive, so you gently grip his hand. “Yone…it’ll be ok, but let’s just get to the hospital, yeah? We have the car packed, right?

He snaps out of his daze and takes a deep breath, his features settling back into his usual calm expression, realizing panic will not help in this situation. “We do.” He smiles gently at you as he leads you to the car. “On our way, can you time how long it is between contractions, love? I’m sure they’ll want to know once we get to the hospital.”

Just an absolute fucking god send of a birthing partner. He works you through your anxiety (even though he’s experiencing some of his own) and is just so reassuring to you while you progress through labor.

Seeing you in pain is something he hates more than anything. So he’s ready to do whatever you need him to do in order to lessen your pain. He makes sure you go through all the various Lamaze techniques you learned, distracts you with some music, and murmurs reassurances in your ear as you squeeze the fuck out of his hand.

And the second you decide you want an epidural, he makes sure that’s properly communicated to the medical team, grateful you’ll be in much less pain.

Yone is checking in with you throughout the entire process, making sure you’re alright. Because while he’s excited about welcoming the babies, your well-being is even more important to him.

And once the babies actually arrive, and you’re doing alright, well just one look over at him and you can tell he’s already so in love with being a dad and that he loves your kids so much, even after just meeting them.

Similar to Phel and Alune, the boy twin is the older one, though only by about 10 minutes. (You catch a chagrined Alune slap a 50 note into a grinning Phel’s outstretched hand after you reveal which twin is older.)

And when he gets the chance to hold the babies, you can immediately tell how fiercely protective he’s going to be (but not in a way that makes your kids sheltered if that makes sense).

(A/N: YONE HOLDING A NEWBORN/TWO NEWBORNS ENDMXIDNFHSMX WHAT A THOUGHT.)

He’s just got such a dad vibe already and he’d be such a good father and co-parent with you.

Other extra tidbits: (post-birth)

His sleep schedule is already so fucked up that honestly, having newborn twins doesn’t impact him that much (he’s already used to running on very little sleep and an insane amount of cold brew). It really helps you because he’s able to go check on the babies super easily, meaning you don’t have to wake up as often.

(This is for when the twins are a little older. Like 3-4.) One of your favorite photos on your phone is from when you walked into your daughter’s room to grab something and found your 6’ 2” husband squeezed onto a tiny chair at a tiny table (like his knees are against his chest), wearing a green feather boa, a sparkly pink tiara, and - wait…is that sparkly eye shadow, blush, and pink lipstick he has on??? - having a very exclusive tea party with your daughter and her favorite stuffies. You managed to keep a straight face as you apologized for intruding, but you quickly grabbed what you needed after taking the photo and rushed back to your room, going into your closet and laughing. (And laughing even harder when Yone later came into your room and asked for your help getting the makeup off. He got you back for laughing though by covering your face in messy pink kiss prints before you could take the lipstick off him.)

Another favorite photo of yours is Yone with your 1.5-year old son sitting on his lap as he works in his home studio. He even gave your son his own pair of headphones to listen through, though of course he majorly limited the volume output to protect his little ears. As he worked he kept asking your son for his opinion, interpreting his little babbles and coos as musical advice. (The photo is of a moment where Yone asked your son what he thought about a verse.)

Ex: “You’re right, bud! There is a bit too much bass here! Good ear.”

And multiple times you’ve walked into his home studio after running errands to see Yone in one chair, Yasuo and/or Aphelios in another, 2/3 of them holding one of the twins on their laps as they seriously discuss music production. And you can’t help but smile at the lovely feeling of family your kids have surrounding them.

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed!! I apologize for the delay in posting. May was really nuts and for me and June is shaping up the same way. But things will hopefully start to calm down soon and it feels good to finally have the urge to write again!! I definitely have some other things in the works so keep your eyes out for that! 💙

[zippidi-dooda]

"Hey, Todoroki, there's this coffee shop nearby I've been wanting to go to. Come with me?"

The dual haired boy looked up from his phone.

You leaned over him, hands propping yourself up against the back of the couch. You had dressed out of your sweats and baggy shirt into an outfit more suitable for an outing.

"Seems like you'd go even if I said no." He said sitting up.

"Of course. You think I need you to have fun?"

He hummed then looked back down at his phone. "Then have fun."

"Todoroki." You deadpanned.

When he didn't respond, you sighed and jumped over the couch to sit next to him. "C'mon dude, you know I'm just joking. I need you there for emotional support, I can't place my order myself. Who do you think I am?"

He slumped into the armrest, lifting a slippered foot onto your lap, keeping his eyes connected to his screen. "Then you should go alone. Learn how to do things yourself for once."

You glared at him then pushed leg off you.

"You're so rude. C'mon, please, Todoroki? I promise to get you a drink too. You just ... you'll be physically paying for it. But it'll be my money, swear."

He checked the time for a moment before standing up, headed for his room to change. "Fine. But you come with me to my family dinner next week."

You recoiled at the thought of the tensely awkward situation that would be a Todoroki family dinner.

He made it obvious enough how broken his family's relations were, but pile that on top of you stuck for hours in the same room as the father who greatly disapproved of your friendship with his propitious son?

An absolute nightmare to ensue.

"Yeesh, I think I'd be better off going on my own."

The boy glared at you.

"Fine, fine. Your family's lovely. Now hurry up."

***

Your walk to the shop was pleasant, both you and Todoroki chatting about prospects of the future and commenting on random things that caught your eye.

And as soon as you entered the building, the small bell above the door drawing attention towards you newcomers, eyes couldn't seem to draw away from you.

Well, not you but Todoroki.

The barista taking your order especially seemed to have trouble focusing.

"Excuse me, we're ready to order now." Todoroki repeated, failing to notice how star struck the girl was looking at him.

"... ah, uh, hi, welcome. I'm Mei. What can I do for you?"

As the boy continued to relay your order and pay, missing the subtle hints the barista threw his way, you watched quietly with a smirk on your face.

Todoroki then gave his name and you chose a seat near the window, sitting across from each other.

You leaned across the table, propping your chin up on your hand, giving him a look.

"Well the atmosphere isn't terrible, so let's hope the coffee is up to standards." He looked at you. "... what?"

"Oh, nothing," you looked away nonchalantly, raising your hand to eye your nails. "Just wondering what it's like being the pretty friend."

He raised a brow. "Are you ... insulting me?"

You sighed, leaning forward again but spoke without the teasing tone. "No. Seriously Todoroki, you're hot. And literally everyone can see it. Why do you think everyone stares everywhere you go?"

He shrugged, folding his hands on the table. "Well of course I'm hot. It's part of my quirk. As for the stares, I'd assume it's cause we go to UA. Most everyone knows us by now."

"... I can't with you sometimes. Anyway, whaddya wanna do after this? I'm fine just walkin' around a little. We can go to the park and just chill there until we have to go back."

"Well, there's an arcade a couple blocks down I've heard Ochaco mention before. It sounded fun."

You brightened up, pointing at Todoroki. "Ah, that's a great idea! Haven't been to one in a while. And now that I think of it, I've never been to one with you. Are ya gonna show me up? Show me your gamer side?"

He looked down at the table in thought. "I don't think I've ever been to one. I never had time to go. So I don't really know what it is."

You patted his hand with a sympathetic smile, his life had been crazy from the get go. As great as he was, you didn't want to imagine being in his shoes.

"Well you're gonna regret ever going with me. I will obliterate you in every game, trust."

He smiled with a brow raised, "you really think you can beat me when you can't even beat me at simple games?"

You frowned, smaking his hand, "Hey. I'll have more experience with these games. And I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"You also said that when we played tic-tac-toe. And look who's at 10-0 right now? Not you."

You glared at his smug smile for moment. "I hate you."

"Shouto?" A barista shouted up front.

Todoroki stood, heading over to get your drinks. "You should think of something you're good at so you can finally beat me at something one of these days."

"I think I messed up picking you as my friend. Can I get a refund?"

He shook his head with a small chuckle before leaving.

When he came back, drinks in hand, you happily took your cup from him.

You took a sip, letting out a satisfied "ahhh ...."

"Todoroki, lemme have a sip of yours."

He nodded, sliding his cup over. "Can I try yours?"

"Ew, no, I don't want your cooties." You said passing him your cup anyways.

"... cooties?"

You savored the taste of the cool drink he'd picked and looked down at the container.

It was dewy from the ice inside, chilling your hands as you held it. And just underneath your thumb you could make out a phone number scribbled shakily in black marker.

You adjusted your hold to get a better look.

The number held the name of the barista who took your order beside a little message saying "call me" beside a heart.

You grinned devilishly, pointing at it and turing the cup around so Todoroki could see.

"Ooooh~ I think someone has a crush!"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't get crushed ice."

"No, not, ugh," you groaned handing him his cup back. "I meant Mei. She's flirting with you, she thinks you're cute."

"Mei? Is that-"

"No, the lady who took our order and gave you her number. She wants to go out with you."

He looked over at the girl who was busy talking to other customers.

He turned back to you, passing back your drink. "No, I don't think that was meant for me."

"Really. The lady who didn't even notice me when you walked up meant to give that to someone else? Who then, who? Enlighten me."

He sipped his drink with a shrug.

You sighed and took a sip of your drink as well. "I'd imagine you'd make for an annoying boyfriend. Probably shouldn't call her. She'll be crushed, but, hey, it'll save her a lot of trouble."

"What do you mean imagine? I am your boyfriend."

"No, not like that. Not a friend who is a boy, but a boyfriend. You know the kind that takes their girlfriend out a lot and they smooch and stuff?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, we do go out a lot but we don't smooch. Should I start smooching you?"

"... just drink your iced skinny carmel macchiatto with extra carmel."

"Actually it's just an iced coffee."

"I know, Todoroki."

"It tastes good."

"I know."

[lambtotheslaughterr]

The Taming : Part One

A Clark Kent Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PROLOGUE | MASTERLIST | PART TWO

IMPORTANT NOTE* now that i have the 10 spots filled from the 500 followers celebration request opening, the taming will be paused. but i didn't want to get started on those before giving at least the first part to this series. so, please be patient as i complete those requests. i am way too excited about this new series & am antsy to get back to it.

            An innocent yet coy smile appeared on your face as your three closest friends raised their glasses in your honor. The four of you were seated at one of the most sought-after tables in Luna Lounge, a fine dining restaurant at the top of one the tallest buildings in Metropolis with views to die for. The restaurant was dimly lit to ensure an intimate setting, the tablecloths were finely made & imported from Morocco, the head chef a Michelin renowned creator who hailed from Croatia. Most people made reservations at the restaurant a year or two in advance, but the four of you only made one an hour ago. It was power to have your name mean something.

            “Happy birthday, baby!” Your oldest friend, Nicola, cheered as she clinked her glass of white wine against your own.

            Ariana & Olivia in turn clinked theirs together in celebration. You smirked at your three best friends as their eyes caught your own. Friends like these were hard to come by. Of course, it helped that they were of the same class as you. Olivia was an influencer with over 5 million followers & she achieved this goal by learning the ropes from her public relations father. Her mother, an art director at one of the most sought-after art galleries in the city, inspired Olivia’s content to travel the world & model for famous artists alike. She was the muse of many. And she loved to use that to her benefit, stealing the hearts of men & women alike. But while she was a heartbreaker, she too was hardly ever single, couldn’t be. Olivia didn’t know how to be alone. It was her only flaw.

            Nicola as well was no stranger to the finer things in life. Her world-famous architect father built the building the four of you were currently dining in & her mother was a former socialite from her younger days turned Pilates instructor for the rich & famous. A lot like Olivia, Nicola was in the social media field but she was only managed accounts of the up & coming influential. Everyone wanted Nicola as their manager. Yet she was hard to get to. Nicola was a complex character that could bounce back easily from being playful to dead serious & tough on her clients. No one knew which direction she would go in. Of course, except for you.

            And then there was Ariana. Unlike the three of you who grew up in wealth, Ariana’s mother walked away from it. Your aunt, Ariana’s mother, was thick as thieves with your mother, but as she grew older she rejected the silver spoon lifestyle. She wanted a normal life. A boring life. So, she fell in love with a mere mailman & lived in a two bedroom in the Metropolis suburbs. But you never faulted Ariana for her mother’s choice. As soon as Ariana turned 18 & moved to the city to attend university, you took her under your wing. You moved her into your condo apartment & introduced her to the life her mother deprived her of.

            But Ariana, even after four years, still struggled with the change. She was too shy, humble, non-confrontational. You almost pitied her, but never showed it. She looked up to you despite being a couple months older than you. It was a shame her mother kept her from a life that would make her as tough & confident as it had the rest of you.

            Then there was you. Your father was a name that meant something in the medical field. You knew he was a pathologist but, did you know what that entailed? Absolutely not. You only knew he travel all over the world & lead the fight against cancer. It was admirable, sure, but boy, you thought it had to be quite mundane. Your mother, on the other hand, was a retired equestrian who competed in the Olympics & won all her events. Thanks to their successes, you were given everything you could ever want in life. Even men. But those you could do without. The only thing men ever did for you was act as a form of amusement. Your guilty pleasure.

            The only people you needed in your life, apart from your parents & siblings, was the three girls at your table. They were the only ones who loved you unconditionally. Everyone else either wanted to be you, be with you, or loathed your existence entirely. You were a Metropolis princess blissfully living her life in her ivory tower. And as long as your three closest friends were with you, there was nothing the world could say or do to hurt you. They made sure of it.

            Now, the four of you celebrated your 22nd birthday. Your birthday was always a night to remember. There was order to it. You always slept in to get your beauty rest & when you woke Ariana was there with your favorite black coffee, the beans personally roasted & imported to you from Colombia. After Ariana & you were served breakfast by your kitchen staff, the two of you would meet with Olivia at a famous luxurious spa for manicures, pedicures, deep soothing massages, all followed by the full body organic exfoliation glow package. Then Nicola would meet the three of you at your favorite bistro for lunch. After lunch, the four of you would go shopping for your birthday celebration festivities.

            Tonight’s outfit’s were another for the books. All of you were impeccably dressed for dinner & then the club after. You wore a $300 dress that you knew you would surely only wear once. But the color & fit of the dress made you appear as angelic as you felt. And the cape-sleeve wool jacket you wore was $3000. It looked as divine as it felt. The girls wore dresses fitting to their personalities. Ariana wore a dress that you insisted on purchasing for her. It was $900 & only one of the few items in her closet that whose retail price was over $100, but it was to her French country style tastes. How could she say no? And she didn’t. Ariana never said no to you.

            Olivia’s dress was less than $200 but the real money came from the 100% Alpaca wool coat she wore, a $1700 purchase. Nicola’s dress was $500 & framed her tall, slender body agonizingly so. She would be the belle of the ball. Which you were okay with. It was always between the two of you who stole the attention in the room when you both walked in, & as long as it was one of you, you were unbothered, your birthday be damned. Nicola’s birthday would be in a couple months, you would just return the gesture & outshine her. She would think it cute & devious. Just like you.

            “Uh oh.” Olivia mouthed, turning her phone towards you. What you saw forced you to roll your eyes. “Andrew & Jane are at Club 22 tonight.”

            “What a snake.” Nicola commented, sipping from her glass of wine, “You know she knows it’s your birthday. She just wants to get under your skin.”

            “With your ex, no less.” Olivia added.

            “Calling him my ‘ex’ is an insult, Liv.” You narrowed your eyes across the table towards her, “He was a quick & disappointing hook-up from high school. Nothing more, nothing less.”

            Olivia giggled at that as she peered at the selfie Jane had posted to her social media account, “He likes to spin the story another way.”

            “Yes, I know.” You breathed out, recalling how Andrew Wong used your alleged romantic relationship to land his first modeling gig. The designer was a fan of your mother & hoped to use you as the face for her debut collection that year. “But only those who matter know that all Andrew is to me was a waste of five minutes of my life.”

            “Besides,” Nicola began, “everyone also knows that if _____ truly wanted him back he would bend over backwards like a circus clown to please her. Andrew Wong is Andrew Whipped.”

            You made a face of disgust, “Can we not talk about him as if he was actually my ex, do you mind? I have better things to do tonight then talk about one of my fan boys.”

            Olivia & Nicola shared a laugh at your reaction. But it was Ariana who softened the moment, like always.

            “He is a nice guy, _____.” She stared at you with her doe-like blue eyes, “Would it be that awful to give him a chance?”

            Nicola & Olivia traded knowing looks at Ariana’s suggestion.

            You smiled softly at Ari, placing your hand on top of hers, “Yes, Ari, it would be. Andrew Wong is nothing but a wanna-be fuckboy with mediocre good looks.”

            “I’d sleep with him.” Olivia pursed her lips playfully.

            “You already have!” Nicola slapped her arm.

            “I don’t remember it though!” She smiled in response.

            “Ugh, have at him, Liv, but we both know you could do much better.” You reminded her. But Olivia always shot well below her worth.

            Ari was silent as the three of you laughed jovially among yourselves. You eyed her, growing mildly irritated at her solemn energy. Clearing your throat, you eyed Liv & Nic, “Girls, Ari & I are going to the bathroom really quick. Meet in the lobby?”

            “Oh?” Nicola raised her brows challengingly, “And whose footing the bill?”

            The three of you cackled in wealth.

            “The restaurant, of course!” You & Liv replied in unison.

            “Ari.” You caught her eyes, nodding with your head for her to follow you. She quickly stood & followed after you.

            Once in the bathroom, you shut the door & locked it shut. It was a communal bathroom but you didn’t want to be disturbed as you reminded her cousin of what being in your world entailed.

            “I’m sorry, alright.” She started as she leaned against one of the sinks. You stood beside her, looking at yourself in the mirror.

            “Don’t apologize.” You replied firmly, eyeing her in the mirror, “Women like us don’t know the word ‘sorry’.”

            “You seem to always forget I’m not like you.” Ari mumbled, running her hands under the touchless faucet.

            “Yes, you are.” You finally faced her. Then you took a step closer, “You could be even better than me if you gave a damn once in a while.”

            She sighed heavily, shaking her head, “Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t want to be better than you? Or like you, in general?”

            “No.” You quipped back, unbothered by her attempt to humanize you. “Because being me is…everything. Why wouldn’t you want that? Why wouldn’t anyone?”

            Ari rolled her eyes before raising them to meet yours in the mirror, “Being rich & famous isn’t everything, _____.”

            Now, it was your turn to roll your eyes. You bit your lip in frustration, turning back to stare at yourself in the mirror. You admired the blemish free glow of your skin, how your hair was perfectly kept, that the jewelry you wore tinkled. But the look in your eyes betrayed you. Fluttering your lids closed, you allowed yourself this one moment to sink to Ariana’s crudely middle-class behavior.

            “I know.” You opened your eyes to look at her, “I know that, Ari. But it’s all I know. And I’m not ashamed of it.”

            She smiled sadly, “I didn’t mean you should feel ashamed. Just, open your mind more.”

            “I’ll try, okay?” You lied straight through your pearly whites. Pretending to be anything less than you were was a waste of your time.

            “Maybe you can start by coming to visit mom with me one of these days.”

            Alright. Middle-class thinking attempt aborted.

            “Ari. No.” You hardened your eyes, “I’ve told you to not ask me that. Ever.”

            “I don’t understand why you won’t see her! She’s family. She’s your family.”

            “She’s a fucking fake.” You hissed, stepping closer to Ari. She stared wide-eyed at you, her whites beginning to water as you dug her mother another hole in the ground. “She ridiculed my parents publicly. Revealed the problematic nature of their marriage. Do you know how long it took my parents to recover from that?”

            Ari parted her lips to respond but you cut her off, “No, you don’t, because your mother wrapped you up in bubble wrap & spoon-fed you lies about us. She is not my family. Do not ask me again.”

            “Okay…” Ari whispered. “I’m sor—”

            “Don’t. Apologize.” You glared at her.

            The two of you stared at one another, though Ari’s was one full of regret. When she finally looked away, you inhaled sharply. Facing the mirror once more, you calmed your nerves down, shaking off the negative energy, “Now, can we have a good rest of the night? It’s my birthday, after all.”

            “Of course, _____. Wouldn’t have it any other way…”

            “Good.” You turned back to her before placing your finger under her chin & lifting her head to make her look at you. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

            “Don’t cry.” Your voice softened but still carried the firm lilt, “Women like us don’t cry, either.”

            Club 22 was at full capacity when the four of you arrived. It brought you great joy, though, as the four of you surpassed the line of people waiting to get in & walked directly up to the red rope.

            “Denny!” Olivia hugged the 6’6”, 300 lb. bouncer that stood before the rope.

            Denny, the bouncer who had been letting you all in since you were 18 & appeared intimidating to everyone who laid eyes on him, grinned widely, wrapping his large arms around Olivia’s thin frame.

            “Evening, ladies.” He greeted all of you, “Your table is already set & ready for you in the loft lounge.”

            “Thanks, Denny.” You raised onto your tip toes to kiss his cheek. He blushed like a schoolboy, “You’re a gem.”

            “And you look like an angel, Miss. _____. Should I call in extra security to secure the boys in their keep their paws off?” He jokes.

            You laughed in return, but shrugged, “Maybe. But the only prince I need to save me is you.”

            Denny was one of the very, very few men outside of your family that you enjoyed. He was kind, genuine, & made it duty to protect the reputation of the club, & most of all, the four of you. He was also gay. So, you never worried about his thoughts growing worrisome towards any of the female population.

            “You ladies have a good night.” He reattached the rope to the metal bar as the four of you approached the door, “And happy birthday, _____.”

            “Happy, indeed.” You grinned back.

            The inside of Club 22 was packed, but despite that, another bouncer led the four of you through the sea of people & to the stairs along the right wall. He unlatched the deep purple rope there & the four of you climbed. At the top, in the loft lounge, was three sets of private tables that overlooked the main floor of the club. The loft lounge even had its own bar. A waitress at the top of the stairs greeted the four of you before leading you to the furthest table. At the center of the table was a 3 liter bottle of Belvedere vodka. Your favorite.

            “Awh, Nic.” You slinked your arm through hers, “You shouldn’t have.”

            “Nothing but the best for my baby.” She kissed your temple as the four of you slid into the booths, you & Nic on one side, Liv & Ari on the other. The waitress was quick to remove the cap from the bottle & poured each of you a shot.

            “If you need anything else, ladies, I’ll be nearby.”

            “Thanks, Anais.” Nic smiled after her. Olivia followed her as well, but her eyes were filled with desire instead.

            “God, Liv, you’re no better than our lesser sex.” You commented as Liv feigned innocence.

            “What?” She laughed despite being caught ogling the waitress, “She’s beautiful.”

            “She’s also a finance student at M.U.” Nic informed her.

            “Oh.” Liv frowned, “Boring.”

            Nic shook her head in disbelief but was still smiling. Grabbing her shot glass, she raised the liquor & the three of you followed suit.

            “To a very happy birthday for my dearest friend.” Nic eyed you lovingly, “You are a good person, despite your appearances.”

            You feigned offense but winked in return.

            “And we couldn’t be prouder to call you sister. I love you so very much, & I would end the lives of everyone in this club if it meant you were happy.”

            You saw in the corner of your eye as Ari’s eyes widened in concern at that. But Nic was joking. Ari knew better, & you didn’t have the energy nor time to remind Ari to woman up.

            “Well, what are you waiting for?” You teased.

            “We love you, girl!” Liv cheered, “Happy birthday!”

            The four of you took your respective shots. The smooth burn of the vodka gave you chills & warmed your blood at the same time. You felt completely & totally in bliss. Tonight was your birthday. And you’d make the most of it.

            Your birthday was going as perfectly as possible. After a few more shots, Liv finally convinced you to follow the rest of them down to the main floor to dance among the less fortunate. Most of the time, you were happy enough to dance against the loft railing, smiling wealthily down at those who wished they could be where you stood. But for tonight, you felt it was more important to dance with your girls & let loose, class system be damned.

            Devilish by Chase Atlantic was blaring over the speakers as the DJ for the night remixed the music, making it slightly more club-sounding for the partiers. Liv was quick to find a man to dance with, who she shamelessly grinded against, & so you were quick to turn your back on the sight. You had given up a long time ago on leading Olivia down the anti-men path. She was a sucker for attention & most men were more than happy to give her as such.

            So, it was you, Nic, & Ari dancing with one another as the music moved your bodies. Ari, finally, had loosened up thanks to the alcohol coursing her system. Her face was flushed but in all the right places, making her look like a perfect antique French doll. You reminded yourself you’d have to keep an eye on her. She was an easy target for the pool of predators in the club. Nic, on the other hand, took as much pleasure in turning her back on the men who attempted to dance with her as you did watching it happen. Nic, unlike Liv who starved for attention & Ari who didn’t know what to do with it when it happened, used it as only an example for anyone nearby who thought they could approach you all. It was your favorite thing about Nic. She was a girls’ girl, & tonight was her number one girls birthday. No man would be infiltrating the night.

            That was until you felt a pair of hands on your hips.

            The fucking audacity of these boys.

            Spinning around where you stood, you were prepared to tell off the idiot who had the gall to put his hands on you when your eyes met familiar dark brown ones.

            Andrew smirked knowingly, his eyes shamelessly casting the length of you.

            “You look beautiful, _____.” He leaned closer to say into your ear as the music reverberated the whole room.

            “I know.” You returned snarkily but gave him a winning smile, nonetheless.

            “Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, his hands trailing further down to your butt.

            You were quick to snatch his wrists, “You shouldn’t have come over here without one.”

            He licked his lips, hungry, but nodded, “I’ll be right back.”

            When he disappeared among the sea of the people, you rolled your eyes & turned back to Nic. The look on her face revealed that she had seen the whole interaction. You leaned into her, “I’ll be in the loft. When Andrew returns, pour my drink on him.”

            “It’ll be my pleasure.” She smiled devilishly.

            As you turned to leave the floor, you snaked your hand around Ari’s wrist & dragged her behind you. She didn’t resist, still dancing as she blindly followed behind you. The two of you climbed the stairs to the loft lounge & returned to your reserved booth where your coats & clutches waited. There was still half a bottle of Belvedere left. Ari made to move towards it but you stopped her. She had had enough. Anymore & she would likely stumble into the arms of the worst kind of guy.

            You spotted the waitress at the next table & raised your brows. She was quick to come to your table, “What can I get for you, ladies?”

            “Water, please.”

            “Right back.”

            When she disappeared, you watched as Ari stood against the railing, dancing out of time with the music but she was happy. A wide smile on her face. It wasn’t often that you saw her smile that big so you didn’t care if others snickered at her dancing. She was, quite literally, living her best life. And who were you to stop her when you were only wanting just that for her.

            You joined her at the railing. You stood proudly, overlooking the crowd below you as they all danced & only grew to be more drunk & as in bliss as you. It was the only time people like them could forget that they would never be where you stood.

            A movement near the center of the floor below you drew your attention, & a coy smile appeared on your lips as you watched Andrew return to where Nic danced, two drinks in his hand. You watched as his mouth moved & Nic turned to face him. She accepted the drink before saying something in return. You knew she was only souring the blow she was about to deliver. Then, Nic raised the cocktail Andrew had brought over & poured it over his chest. His maude colored button up became soaked & three shades darker. He snarled at Nic, tossing his other drink onto the floor. The sound of glass breaking drew the attention of everyone.

            Security was quick to circle your ill-fated high school hook-up & yank on his arms to haul him away. Nic only laughed as she watched him get pulled closer to the exit. She waved good-bye. Then Andrew’s eyes rose to yours, finding you perched on your throne. Though you couldn’t hear him over the music & distance, you knew well-enough he mouthed ‘fuck you’.

            You blew him a kiss.

            Your eyes returned to Nic’s on the floor & she winked up at you. Fortunately, Ari was too inebriated beside you to know what had just occurred, & for that you were grateful because you would’ve had gotten an ear full for being a ‘mean girl’. But you would, of course, argue that you weren’t mean. Just real. And silly little boys like Andrew needed to be reminded of the reality that he would never be good enough for you. No one was.

            “Here’s your waters, ladies.” The waitress returned with two chilled glasses of water along with a carafe for refilling. You smiled a thanks towards her before she returned to her other tables. You snatched Ari by her wrist yet again & forced her to sit down. You handed her a glass of water, “Drink.”

            She brought the glass to her lips but never stopped moving her upper body to the music. You were glad she was enjoying your birthday as much as you were.

            While Ari nursed her hydration, you returned to the railing. Nic was still dancing by herself, feeling the music. But you had yet to see Liv. Your eyes searched the sea of people for her silk orange dress. However, as you did, your eyes met those of another.

            He was sitting in a booth near the dance floor, but the booth was empty. He was the only one sitting there, & judging off how there was no sign of others sitting with him: cellphones left on the table, a bottle at the center of the table, thrown about coats, nothing of the sort, you wondered what the hell he was doing. And why the hell he was looking at you.

            What threw you off most was that he was already looking at you when your eyes met his. Like he had been watching you. Normally that wouldn’t bother you. You were used to men watching you, longing after you, but he was different. Annoyingly so. He wasn’t smiling up at you in an attempt to draw you towards him. He wasn’t even eyeing you like he wanted to undress you. He was simply…staring. Watching. Like one does when they’re at a museum & are unimpressed by what they see so they just look at the barren walls in between art pieces.

            His hair was dark, tussled & curling near his forehead. He wore a black button up, though the top three buttons were undone, revealing, even from this distance, a well-sculpted chest. To most, if not all, women he was a dangerously sexy man. The aura that surrounded him was without a doubt the kind that drew women like Olivia towards him. Yet there was no woman on his arm.

            You were unable to look away. Your eyes locked on one another. But there was no desire or need you were picking up from him. And it was unsettling you. But you were never one to lose a stare down, especially when it came to the perfect stranger. If this man wanted to challenge you on your greatest strength, you were more than happy to show him that you weren’t intimidated by him. As you two continued staring at one another across a sea of people & a level in height between you, neither of you blinked. You had each other in a vice-like grip. And neither were letting go.

            A squeal sounded behind you, breaking your reverie. You spun around as Liv appeared, having stumbled into the booth, an unknown male on her arm.

            “Who the fuck is this?” You questioned, glaring hotly at the guy who had his cast over Liv’s shoulders.

            “Um.” Liv pressed her lips together as she stared at the person in question, “Ethan?”

            “Eddie.” He laughed, unbothered that a drunken woman couldn’t even recall his name. It was a disgusting name, regardless.

            “Eddie.” You announced his name, stealing his attention, “Beat it.”

            “What? But she—”

            “And I say beat. It.” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

            Liv sighed by waved him away, “Thanks for the dance.”

            Eddie glanced grossly between you & Liv, likely waiting for you to say, ‘just kidding’! But you were not a kidder.

            He ultimately left but not before mouthing under his breath, “Bitches.”

            You rolled your eyes, before eyeing Liv.

            “What?” She shrugged, “He was hot.”

            “His name was Eddie.”

            “I don’t need to know their names to have a good night.” She returned playfully. She reached for the bottle of Belvedere but you smacked her hand, pointing at the water.

            “We’re leaving soon. Drink up.”

            Liv rolled her eyes but did as you told. It wasn’t unheard of for you & Liv to get into your tiffs but fortunately an alcoholic state of mind made her more suggestive. That was good for you, but bad for her & her taste in men. You were only looking out for her.

            Ari & Liv fell into a light conversation that you couldn’t care to be a part of so you turned back to the railing. It was only then that you remembered being in a stare-down with that stranger. Your eyes flicked back to his table but it was empty. You then searched for him among the people but never found him. He was gone. You sneered internally to yourself. He had won. And being a loser never sat well with you.

            The subway jostled as it sped through the underground tunnels of Metropolis. The car was packed with Friday night partiers as most were either returning home in a drunken fit or in search of a party that would continue to morning. But you were determined to get your girls home safe & sound.

            Liv was sitting on a bench, her head resting against the window as she drunkenly slept with her mouth hanging open. You shook your head, your eyes meeting Nic’s.

            “You sure you can handle her?” You questioned, holding onto a pole for stability as people moved to & fro within the packed subway car.

            Nic rolled her eyes, “Yes, I already called my driver. He’ll be waiting for us at the entrance once we get to our stop. She’ll be in bed within 20 minutes.”

            You nodded. As long as Liv went home alone. As long as man didn’t go home with her to take advantage of her.

            Beside you, Ari loosely held onto a pole herself. She was sobering up at this point but still had reddened cheeks, evident of her night of fun. You watched her in the corner of your eye. Your own driver would be waiting for the two of you at your stop that was three after Liv & Nic’s. It was hell to get your driver’s down to the clubbing district on the weekends. The local law enforcement closed down multiple streets so bar & club hoppers alike could freely walk, stumble, fall across streets without worrying about getting maimed by another drunk driver. The city’s heart was in the right place, looking out for the regular civilians, but people like you & your girls needed your drivers. Because when you didn’t, you were forced to take the subway with the rest of the Metropolis population. It made your skin crawl but you had gotten used to it.

            You checked the time on your phone & it was nearly three in the morning. You were looking forward to getting Ari into bed before taking a hot shower & crawling into your own. Tomorrow you would sleep for as long as you wanted before getting ready for another night out at the clubs.

            “You have a good birthday, baby?” Nic asked, stealing your attention.

            You gave her a closed smile, nodding, “Yes, darling, I did. Thank you.”

            She scrunched her nose cutely up at you.

            The subway shifted suddenly & everyone who was standing stumbled along with it. In your peripheral, you watched as Ari’s fingers slipped from the pole & she fell backwards. You threw out an arm to try & catch her but before you could, another caught her. Ari oof’d as she fell into the lap of a man sitting opposite you & your friends. He wore a plain black baseball cap that hung low, covering half of his face.

            His hands caught Ari by the waist but she was sitting fully in his lap. Like a fucking kid asking for a gift from fucking Santa Claus. Your blood boiled over. You were quick to snatch Ari by the wrist & yank her upwards off the creep’s lap.

            “Sorry.” She slurred, clinging to you as you pushed her backwards towards Nic.

            “S’okay.” The man looked up to smile at Ari.

            You glared past his thick framed glasses. He must’ve feel your stare because then shifted his eyes toward yours. You felt your heart hammer in your chest. The stranger from the club?! But he…

            Your eyes cast down his body as he remained sitting on his side of the subway car. He wore a black bomber jacket zipped all the way up to his neck & a pair of plain black denim jeans. His shoes were all black as well. He looked normal. Perhaps a bartender one his way home from a late night. But when your eyes returned to his face, you continued to peer past his glasses.

            He looked eerily like the man from the club, yet so different. You watched as his thick brows creased in confusion, “Are you okay?”

            His questioned snapped you out of your inspection.

            “Don’t touch her.” You bit out.

            The man scoffed, returning your glare, “She fell into me.”

            “I don’t care, keep your filthy hands off.”

            “_____.” Nic voiced behind you. You whipped your head in her direction, “He was just helping.”

            “Yeah.” You turned back to glare at him, “Helping himself to a handful.”

            “Alright.” He raised his hands in defense, “I see where this is going. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t lay a finger on someone like you.”

            “And what does that mean?” You stepped forward so you were standing directly in front of him.

            “Means I can’t afford women of your stature.” He replied cooly, returning your stare from behind his lenses.

            “You’re right.” You snarled, “You can’t.”

            “Women like you cost much more than you’re worth for a night.”

            The insinuation pushed you over the edge.

            “We are not whores!” You yelled, drawing the attention of other late night travelers.

            “Whatever you say.” The man responded, unfazed by your offensive stance.

            “_____!” Nic said your name firmly, “Leave it alone.”

            “This guy thinks he can call us prostitutes & get away with it.” You argued back but your eyes never left his.

            The man stood then & you were forced to take a step back. When he was sitting down, he didn’t look to be so large. But when he rose to his full height, his head was only a few inches below the ceiling of the subway. He stepped closer, closing the distance between the two of you, his voice lowering, “I was calling you escorts. Classier.”

            “You motherfuck—”

            “_____!” Nic raised her voice, but something in her tone made you finally look at her. When you did, she nodded towards the rest of the subway train. You followed her line of sight & noticed how a handful of people had their cellphones out & were recording your heated debate with yet another perfect stranger.

            The last thing you wanted was to have a video of you drunkenly fighting with a nobody in public & having it posted to social media with your username tagged. You would ever hear the end of it from your parents.

            Swallowing the bitter taste of your anger, you backed down. But only for your parents. If it was just you & the man, you’d lash him with your tongue.

            “Careful.” He said lowly, low enough for only you to hear, “_____.”

            The sound of your name coming from his mouth made your spine tingle. You turned to glare at him but felt as Nic pulled you back to your side of the subway car. The man remained standing, his eyes never leaving yours.

            The subway stopped then & the doors hissed open. The man reached behind him to gather a messenger bag he had left on the bench.

            “Ladies.” He nodded once in your direction before making way for the doors. But as he did, he looked at you once more. And there it was. You saw it.

            That same look from the man in the club. He was staring unfeelingly. And you were the wall between pieces of framed art.

            It was him!

            But as quickly as you realized who he was, the doors hissed closed & the subway began moving again.

            You felt your heart racing, & sweat had began collecting in the pits of your arms. You shuffled out of your coat, tossing it into Liv’s unconscious lap, frustrated.

            “Calm down.” Nic ordered as she still kept Ari tucked against her.

            “I am.” You bit back.

            “No, you’re losing it.” Nic shook her head, “Remember, women like us don’t lose control.”

            You nodded but said nothing more, unable to trust yourself. Nicola was right. Women like you didn’t lose control. Not ever, not for a second, not even when having been drinking. But that man, that fucking perfect stranger, he made you lose all control. You felt jilted, made a fool of.

            That would never happen again.

okay, my loves! part one to my new stalker!clark kent mini series. i have so much planned for this series & it's going to be a delectably good time.

as always, please share your thoughts w me. i especially need them with this first part so i know that i'm not the only one excited about this series lol. drop a comment, reblog w reviews, or talk to me in the ask box. i'm thirsting.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

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taglist: @rosecentury

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[autistic-ben-tennyson]

Anakin: Why I relate to him

I’m going to change gears a bit from my usual anime/Ben 10 posts to talk about Anakin. I had a period where I pretended to hate him and was super pro Jedi to try and fit in with that fandom. I have changed a lot of my opinions since then. While I’m still not a huge fan of him, my opinion has softened greatly. A lot of Jedi stans act like all people who sympathize with him are conservatives who think you need a 50s nuclear family to be happy and hate Buddhism or aroace people. So I am going to share why I relate to this man’s struggles as a progressive, transgender neurodivergent Asian American.

A lot of people view Anakin in AOTC as just whiny and ungrateful. While the Tusken massacre was wrong, I can emphasize with his anger towards Obi Wan. I have felt belittled, over patronized and gaslit by my father, as well as yelled at. While Anakin was being disrespectful in that scene from AOTC where he reunites with Padme, the way Obi Wan handled it was uncalled for. He should have pulled Anakin aside to let him know there’s a time and place for everything, not humiliate him in front of their hosts.

I’ve made small mistakes due to my autism and dad would make a big deal out of it and tell me “we need to work on your awareness” in front of everyone there. I can also relate to that “he’s jealous! He’s holding me back” scene as someone who wants more out of life and feel like my dad is getting in my way. That scene also reminds me of how a lot of parents treat their kids for having an “attitude” or “talking back” when they’re just trying to explain themselves, are having a bad day or have a different opinion. I’ve also been forced to apologize for lashing out at people who’ve bullied me like in that comic.

When Jedi apologists talk about how Anakin was just greedy for not wanting to share his feelings with Obi Wan or the council, I get the feeling that they’ve had a fairly privileged upbringing. I’ve had trouble opening up to my dad because of how dismissive or terrifying he could be in the past. As a trans person, I’ve had to prepare for the worst possible outcomes and while my coming out went better than I expected, he just invalidated all my fears and acted like I was wrong for not telling him when he did little to provide a safe space, never apologizing for insensitive things he said. Similarly, fans expect Anakin to tell Obi Wan about his marriage despite all the dismissive behavior from him as well as faking his death and doing little to help Ahsoka. People who’ve been gaslit or dismissed for their feelings often resort to keeping secrets as a safety measure.

A child shouldn’t be expected to tell adults anything until they prove they can be trusted. Whenever I talk about my issues with my childhood, people dismiss it as legitimate discipline or tough love, which is another reason why I feel uncomfortable when Jedi apologists act like Kenobi was a good parent. People only see abuse if it’s physical or sexual, but never care or notice if it’s more subtle or emotional. Anakin recognized that Kenobi’s training methods wouldn’t be good for Ahsoka which is why he acts more like Shmi when teaching Ahsoka. My dad is also very sarcastic and is aware of my autism, even praising it at times, but expects me to just understand his “jokes” or insensitive comments.

People say you can’t critique the Jedi because they’re based off eastern philosophy but are they really that different from conservative evangelicals? Obi Wan straight up tells Anakin he can have romantic feelings but can’t act on them. Fans claim Anakin chose to get married and it was on him for not just leaving. I remember being the “weird” kid in a community that was very conservative (family, faith and football) who felt like I couldn’t talk about my interests without being shamed, especially after coming out. I can also emphasize with wanting to leave but feeling an obligation to stay because the people who’ve hurt me do love me and it being complicated.

I think a lot of people who dismiss Obi Wan’s insensitive remarks or child rearing methods are looking at it from an adult’s perspective, since they aren’t bothered by it as much. Adults can yell at, gaslight, spank or humiliate their kids, then act like nothing happened, but when you’re a child, it sticks with you, and is irritating when they try to be “buddy-buddy” with you later. I am also someone who struggles a lot with sarcasm and struggle with letting go of negative emotions because it keeps happening.

This is that post I talked about where I asked a popular Jedi stan their views on adoption. I’m not anti adoption, mind you. I felt Matilda, Suzume and Kung Fu Panda tackled it well with sensitivity. I responded with decency and acted like I agreed with them. But something about their response gave me the ick. I don’t know why but I do have a desire to find my birth mother, eventually. Is it really wrong to worry about your mother if she could be suffering, and you can’t do anything to help? It kind of confirms that a lot of Jedi apologists come from privileged upbringings. I also felt like I had to ask permission to enjoy media that went against the Jedi fandom’s beliefs.

I think that wraps up why I relate to this character even if I don’t agree with his actions. People who say he was just lazy or selfish don’t seem like they understand much about human psychology and abuse and how even “small” things can build up and make a child distrust the adults in their life. I worry a bit about when they become parents and what how their kids will end up. A lot of kids are shamed for not wanting to share their emotions when they have good reasons to keep secrets. How would Jedi stans respond to that? They only care about abuse if it’s physical which is why they make a big deal out of that training scene from TOTJ or act like Anakin abused Rex when throwing him off that wall on Geonosis.

[wordy-little-witch]

Silly incorrect quotes bc I am a trash mammal and I need serotonin, Cross Guild Poly with queen platonic Shuggy

Mihawk: hm.

Buggy: hm? What's up, Hawky?

Mihawk: it's nothing. Merely pricked my finger on a thorn

Buggy, setting aside his book: oh! Here- *he pulls out a handkerchief, knotted to a line of others, and cleans the hand and applies a bandaid* and the finishing touch! *he kisses the bandage*

Mihawk: .... why did you do that?

Buggy, smiling faintly: just something captain, Rayleigh and their wife used to do for Shanks 'n I as wee lads. Kisses make booboos better, Mama Rouge used to say. A-anyway, sorry, just... didn't think.

Things go quiet for a time before they part ways. Later on...

Mihawk: Crocodile, I require your assistance

Crocodile: I already told you I will not give you an extension on your eyeliner budget-

Mihawk: no, punch me in the face

Crocodile:

Mihawk: lips, preferably.

Crocodile:

Mihawk:

Crocodile: why do I always fall for the batshit ones-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, half drunk: -and it's really a wild thing to insinuate that he wasn't a progressive novelist in the first place! It's like comparing peaches to pomegranates! Both are good, but they're only tangentially related and you HAVE to take the situation into account, and this motherfucker has the audacity to tell me I'm trying to "make everything needlessly gay" like SIR WHAT THE FRESH FUCK-?

Crocodile: What is he even talking about.

Mihawk, nursing his third glass of wine, face mask and robe in place: the homoerotic subtext between two fictional characters in a fantasy novel from well over thirty years ago.

Crocodile: why haven't you shut him up then

Mihawk, sipping elegantly: because he's right and should say it. I ship Bagginshield too.

Crocodile, exhausted by his nerds: I know several languages and this is none of them.

Buggy: AND ANOTHER THING-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks, still on the Oro: oh my gosh do you like like Buggy??

Mihawk, sitting next to him in bandages following his most recent challenge to Rayleigh: what? Do not be ridiculous. I merely find him appropriate company. It is not as if I find my thoughts plagued by him in the night.

Several hours later...

Mihawk, wide awake in his hammock, circus music and flashes of blue and blobs of red playing in his head: .... oh son of a-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile, staring into the camera like in the office: if I had a nickel for every time I found myself enamored by an idiot, I'd have three nickels. It isn't a lot, but it would go towards my therapy bills. Something must be wrong with me.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile : What are you writing?

Mihawk: The government wants to know what kind of weapons we have in the house. I'm letting them know it's private information.

Buggy, looking over Mihawk's shoulder: This just says 'fuck around and find out' in calligraphy.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club.

Buggy: What club?

Crocodile : The hating Buggy club.

Buggy: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth

Crocodile:

Mihawk:

Buggy:

Crocodile: why would you-

Mihawk: the forbidden gumball

Crocodile: NO

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Being half asleep and feeling someone gently plant a kiss on your forehead is one of the purest kinds of love in the world.

Mihawk: Unless you're home alone.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Hoodie pockets are so great. I can fit like three sandwiches and a grenade in there and my hands are still warm.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, dressed like a sexy nun: Forgive me Father, for I have sinny-sin-sinned.

Mihawk, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose: why do I attempt anything with you

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile : Mihawk, my old friend!

Mihawk: I think you tried to kill me at some point.

Crocodile : That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: Happy Scorpio season. If you have to burn a bridge, do it safely!

Buggy: With NAPALM.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: *slams books down in front of Crocodile*

Buggy: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night.

Crocodile: You could have said literally anything else.

Buggy: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble.

Crocodile: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, pulling up with heart shaped sunglasses: Hello, McDonald's, I would like to purchase 130 chicken nuggets. Prepare yourselves.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: *yawns*

Buggy: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Mihawk: Then you must be exhuasted.

Crocodile: Will you two shut up? Some of us are running a multilevel marketing scheme - I mean. A business.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk, winedrunk off his ass: You want to know why people are so afraid of clowns? Well you know what people say about how their feet aren't the only thing that's big? And how people who drive really big cars have small dicks? Well clowns are out there with their big feet and tiny cars...

Crocodile: oh by the Seas you have a point. The Fool could be packing some serious business in that suspiciously large and baggy pillowcase. We must look into this further.

Mihawk: yes of course. We must know thy enemy.

Crocodile: indeed. And furthermore we must know what secrets and strengths the Guild may leverage. This is for the company, truly.

Alvida, who just wanted to eat her salad in peace:

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: What, in the name of sanity, have you got on your head?

Crocodile : It's a fez, I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool.

Mihawk: *snatches the fez, throws it in the air*

Buggy: *shoots it*

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée". Gyahahahaha-

Mihawk+Crocodile, internally: gods he is so stupid. I need him carnally

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEART DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED!

Buggy: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY!

Mihawk: Buggy just threw a tantrum about a chair.

Mihawk: I just won Buggy Tantrum Bingo.

Crocodile: fuck I was so close...

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile : I baked you a pie!

Buggy: Really?! What flavor?

Crocodile: *pulls itemize bill out of the pie* DEBT!!!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: While you were caught up in your heterosexuality, I studied the way of the blade!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: I am not a whore, and, not that I’ve done the math, but, if I were, I’d be the super classy kind that gets flown to Dubai to stay in an underwater hotel.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile : I'm not creepy.

Crocodile : I'm petty.

Crocodile : There's a difference, ya' know.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks: Do you guys hear something?

Buggy: I hear the sound of you shutting the fuck up.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Shanks: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Buggy: But you’re always acting stupid?

Shanks: ...

Shanks: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy, turning to Shanks: Stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is the microwave.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Shanks: You and me!

Buggy: *tearing up* Ok.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Shanks: That’s the key slice of truth we need to complete the entire truth pie.

Buggy: Ooh, can we get some actual pie?

Shanks: I like the way you think.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy: I want to kiss you.

Shanks, not paying attention: What?

Buggy: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me Final🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - get some tissues..

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 24

In time, it became evident that he was letting his health go. His behavior at times was deliberately self-destructive. On a few occasions he’d say, “I’ll never make it much beyond forty.” We’ve all made such statements, but with Matt the thought was deep-seated and chronic. Mary Lou had died at forty-two and, like Mary Lou, he wanted to go before his father, sensing that he himself couldn’t bear another loss.

From time to time, I’d hear that he had checked into the hospital. Concerned, I’d call, asking, “Are you all right?”

“Sure,” he’d say, laughing a little to show me it was all a big joke. “I just need a little rest, Sattnin.” Then I realized he’d gone to the hospital for the same reason he had during his Army days. It was his way of taking a little rest; he needed to get out of Graceland and away from all the pressures.

By 1976 everyone was becoming alarmed over his mental state as well as his physical appearance. His face was bloated, his body unnaturally heavy. The more people tried to talk to him about this, the more insistent he became that everything was all right.

The Colonel was even concerned about Matt’s actions while onstage. Matt started forgetting lyrics and resorting to sheet music. He was acting erratic by ignoring the audience and playing to the band. A few shows were canceled and no one could predict whether or not he’d appear onstage.

In the absence of any significant professional challenge, Matt created his own real-life dramas. His fascination with guns was now an obsession. He became paranoid over death threats, and from his association with the Boston local police, he had access to lists of local drug pushers. He felt he personally should get them off the streets. Phoning me late one evening, he said, “y/nn, you have anyone you want taken care of? Strictly top secret.”

The style, grace, and pride that for the past eight years had been the hallmark of a Sturniolo live performance now bordered on self-parody. Frustrated with the lack of challenge of each passing show, Matt resorted to sheer flamboyance, symbolized by his costumes, each more elaborate than the one before, loaded with an overabundance of fake stones, studs, and fringes. There were voluminous capes and cumbersome belts to match. He was performing in garb that added thirty-five pounds to his weight. It was as if he were determined to upstage himself instead of relying on his raw talent.

There were times in his final year that he would be criticized on how he related to his audience. Some people observed that he joked around with his band too much and left his songs unfinished. Once Matt even complained from the stage about “bad management” at the hotel, citing a certain employee at the Hilton who was being fired. The following day Colonel William asked Matt to stick to his own business—entertaining—and let the hotel handle its help. James tended to take Matt’s side on this as on every issue, but the Colonel had a right to be concerned.

One of the guys actually told Matt he was beginning to look more like a Liberace act in the hope that Matt would take the hint and come to his senses and rely on just his talent. But from the beginning Matt had insisted: “I just want to read positive reviews. I don’t want to hear any negativity.” As a teenager he’d been shielded by Mary Lou from criticism. When she’d filled her albums and scrapbooks, she’d used only the favorable clippings. If he hadn’t been so sheltered, he might have had a better perspective on his career. At least he’d have been aware of what was being written about him and possibly used some of the comments constructively.

No matter what he did, his fans still cheered him on. They were faithful to him through good performances and bad, and eventually their love was the only real gratification he received. They endorsed everything he did. Maybe as long as he was getting their cheers, he thought he was doing fine. But in fact Colonel William was right when he told Matt that he’d better get himself straightened out or his whole career would go down the drain.

His personal life was not helping the situation. He was seeing Ginger Alden, who was twenty years his junior, and the difference in their ages was becoming more and more of a problem. He’d say, “I’m tired of raising kids. I don’t have the patience to go through it all over again.” There were conflicts—many. Ginger did not like touring, one-night stands. She was close to her family and didn’t want to leave them. Matt tried bringing half her family with them, but that only created other problems. “She spends more time with her sister and mother than she does with me,” he complained.

In discussing his dilemma, I asked, “Do you think you can really live with just one woman?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Now more than ever. I know I’ve done some stupid things, but the stupidest was not realizing what I had until I lost it. I want my family back.”

I wondered if there was some way we could make it work. “Maybe it was just too early in life for us, Sattnin,” I said. “Maybe one day there will be a time for us.”

“Yeah,” Matt laughed. “When I’m seventy and you’re sixty. We’ll both be so old we’ll look really silly, racing around in golf carts.”

In April 1977 Matt fell ill and had to cancel his tour and return home to Graceland. Charlotte and I were there visiting Dodger. He called me up to his room. He did not look himself; his face and body were bloated. He was wearing pajamas, which he seemed to prefer these days when at home. He held Cheiro’s Book of Numbers and told me there was something he wanted me to read. His curiosity for answers had not abated. He was still searching for his purpose in life, still feeling he had not found his calling. If he had found a cause to espouse, whether a drugless society or world peace, he would have had the role he sought in life. His generosity was evidence of this part of his nature—his legendary penchant for giving, even to the countless people he didn’t know.

But he never found a crusade to pull him out of his cloistered world, a discipline strong enough to counter his escape into drugs. That night he read to me, searching for answers, just as he had done the year before and the year before that and the years before that.

It was August 16, 1977, overcast and dreary, not a typical Southern California day. When I walked outside, there was a stillness, an unnatural calm in the air that I have not experienced since. I almost went back into the house, unable to shake my uneasiness. I had a meeting that morning and by noon I was racing to meet my sister Michelle. On my way into Hollywood I noticed the atmosphere had not changed. It still seemed unusually silent and depressing and it had begun to drizzle. As I drove down Melrose Avenue, I saw Michelle standing on the corner, a look of concern on her face. “y/nn, I just got a call from Dad,” she said as I pulled up. “Nate’s been trying to reach you. It’s something about Matt in the hospital.” Nate Doe was Matt’s road manager and right-hand man. I froze. If he was trying to reach me, something must be terribly wrong. I told Michelle to take her car and quickly follow me home. the hospital all year; there were times when he wasn’t even sick that he’d check in for a rest, to get away from pressures, or just out of boredom. It had never been anything too serious.

I thought about our daughter, Charlotte, who was visiting Matt at Graceland and was supposed to come home that very day. Oh God, I prayed. Please let everything be all right. Don’t let anything happen, please, dear God.

I ran every red light and nearly hit a dozen cars. At last, I reached home, and as I swerved down the driveway, I could hear the phone ringing from inside the house. Please don’t hang up, I prayed, jumping out of the car and running toward the door. “I’m coming,” I yelled. I tried to get my key in the lock, but my hand wouldn’t stop shaking. Finally I got into the house, grabbed the receiver, and yelled, “Hello, hello?”

All I could hear was the hum of a longdistance line, then a stricken, faint voice, “y/nn. It’s Nate.”

“What’s happened, Nate?”

“It’s Matt.”

“Oh, my God. Don’t tell me.”

“y/nn, he’s dead.”

“Nate, don’t tell me that. Please!”

“We’ve lost him.”

“No. NO!” I begged him to take back his words. Instead, he was silent. “We’ve lost him—” His voice broke and we both began to cry. “Nate, where’s Charlotte?” I asked.

“She’s okay. She’s with Grandma.”

“Thank God. Nate, send a plane for me, please. And hurry. I want to come home.”

As I hung up, Michelle and Mother, who had just arrived, embraced me and we cried in each other’s arms. Within minutes the phone rang again. For a moment I hoped for a miracle; they were calling me back to tell me that Matt was still alive, that it was all right, that it had all been a bad dream.

But there were no miracles. “Mommy, Mommy,” Charlotte was saying. “Something’s happened to Daddy.” “I know, Baby,” I whispered. “I’ll be there soon. I’m waiting for the plane now.”

“Everybody’s crying, Mommy.”

I felt helpless. What could I say to her? I couldn’t even find words to comfort myself. I feared what she would be hearing. She didn’t yet know that he had died. All I kept saying over and over was, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try to stay in Grandma’s room, away from everyone.” In the background I could hear a grief-stricken James moaning in agony. “My son’s gone. Dear God, I’ve lost my son.”

Fortunately a child’s innocence provides its own protection. Death was not yet a reality to her. She said she’d go out and play with Laura, her friend.

I hung up and walked around in a daze, still numb with shock. The news hit the media instantly. My phones did not stop ringing, with friends trying to cope with the shock, members of the family grasping for explanations, and the press demanding statements. I locked myself in the bedroom and left instructions that I would not speak to anyone, that I wanted to be alone. In fact, I wanted to die. Love is very deceiving. Though we were divorced, Matt was still an essential part of my life. Over the last years we’d become good friends, admitting the mistakes we’d made in the past and just beginning to laugh at our shortcomings. I could not face the reality that I would never see him alive again. He had always been there for me. I depended on him, just as he depended on me. We had a bond: We’d become closer and had more understanding and patience for each other than in our married life. We had even talked of one day  . . . And now he was gone. I remembered our last phone conversation, just a few days before. His mood had been good as he talked about the twelve-day tour he was about to begin. He even laughed when he told me that, as usual, the Colonel had papered the first city they were scheduled to hit with his posters and that his records were being played constantly in advance of his arrival.

“Good old Colonel,” Matt had said. “We’ve come a long way. He’s still puttin’ out that same old stuff. It’s a wonder people are still buying it.”

I loved hearing Matt laugh, something he had been doing less and less. Just days before that last call, I’d heard that his spirits were down and he was contemplating breaking up with Ginger Alden, his girlfriend. I knew him well enough to realize that this was not an easy move for him to make. If only I’d known that would be the last time I’d talk to him, I’d have said so much more: things I wanted to say and never had, things I’d held inside me for so many years because the timing was always wrong.

He had been a part of my life for eighteen years. When we met, I had just turned fourteen. The first six months I spent with him were filled with tenderness and affection. Blinded by love, I saw none of his faults or weaknesses. He was to become the passion of my life.

He taught me everything: how to dress, how to walk, how to apply makeup and wear my hair, how to behave, how to return love his way. Over the years he became my father, husband, and very nearly God. Now he was gone and I felt more alone and afraid than ever in my life.

The hours went by slowly before Matt’s private plane, the Charlotte Grace, arrived. Behind closed doors I sat and waited, remembering our life together—the joy, the pain, the sadness, and the triumphs—from the very first time I heard his name.

We boarded the Charlotte Grace around nine o’clock that evening, just my parents, Michelle, Jerry Schilling, Amber Doe, and a few close friends. At first, I just sat alone, in despair. Then I went to the back of the plane, to Matt’s bedroom. I lay there, unable to believe that Matt was really dead.

I remembered the jokes Matt used to make about dying. He’d say, “It’d really take something for me to leave this earth.” Yet he wore a chain around his neck that had both a cross and a Star of David on it. He would joke about it, saying he wanted to be covered in all areas, just in case.

He’d had a fear of flying, but he never showed it. Matt never showed any of his fears. He felt he had a responsibility to make everyone else feel secure. So he gave the impression he was self-assured, because he didn’t want to let any of us down.

I thought of a time when we were on a flight home from Los Angeles. There was a lot of turbulence, and the plane was shaking badly. Everyone on board was frightened. Everyone but Matt. When I looked at him, he was smiling, and then he took my hand.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re gonna make it.” Suddenly, I felt safe. There was a certainty about Matt. If he said it was going to be, then it was going to be that way.

The trip seemed endless. By the time we reached Boston, I was numb. We were ushered into a waiting limousine, to avoid the crush of photographers. Then we sped off to Graceland, where we were met by frantic, disbelieving faces: relatives and close friends, the maids—the same people who had been around us for so many years. I had spent most of my life with these people and seeing them now was devastating.

Most of Matt’s close family—James, Grandma, her daughters, Delta and Nash, and others—congregated in Grandma’s room, while his friends, and the guys who worked for him, were mostly gathered in the den. Everyone else seemed to just be walking in and out of the rooms, silent and solemn, glancing around in disbelief.

Charlotte was outside on the lawn, with a friend, riding around on the golf cart that her father had given her. At first I was amazed that she was able to play at a time like this, but when I talked to her, I realized that the full impact of what happened hadn’t hit her yet. She’d seen the paramedics rushing Matt away, and he was still at the hospital when I’d arrived, so Charlotte was confused.

“Is it true?” she asked. “Is my daddy really gone?”

Again, I was really at a loss for words. She was our child. It was difficult enough for me to believe and confront Matt’s death myself. I just didn’t know how to tell her that she would never see her daddy again.

I nodded, then took her into my arms. We hugged and then she ran out and started riding around in her golf cart again. But now I was glad she could play. I knew it was her way of avoiding reality.

The night seemed endless. Several of us sat around the dining room table talking, and it was then that I learned the circumstances of Matt’s death. I was told that Matt had played racquetball with his cousin, Billy Smith, until four o’clock that morning, while Billy’s wife, Jo, and Matt’s girlfriend, Ginger, watched them. Then they all presumably retired for the night. But as Ginger slept, Matt stayed up to read. He called down to his Aunt Delta for some ice water and said he was having a hard time sleeping.

Matt was still reading when Ginger woke up at nine o’clock that morning, and then she went back to sleep until about 1 p.m. When she awoke, Matt was not in bed. She found him lying face down on his bathroom floor.

Ginger called downstairs, and Al Strada and Nate Doe came running up. After calling the paramedics, Nate gave Matt CPR until they arrived. As the paramedics were leaving to rush Matt to the hospital, his personal physician, “Dr. Joe,” arrived and rode in the ambulance, working on Matt all the way to Baptist Memorial. There the staff tried for another half an hour to revive Matt, but it was all futile. He was pronounced dead on arrival of heart failure. James then requested an autopsy. The body was taken to the Boston Funeral Home to be prepared for viewing in Graceland the following day.

As I sat listening to the events leading up to Matt’s last hours, I became more and more disturbed. There were so many questions. Matt was seldom left alone for any length of time.

Suddenly I knew I had to be alone. I went upstairs to Matt’s private suite, where we had spent so much of our life together. The rooms were more orderly than I’d expected. Many of his personal belongings were gone; his nightstand was bare of books.

I went into his dressing room and it was as if I could sense his living presence—his own unique scent filled the room. It was an eerie sensation.

From the dining room window I could see thousands of people out on Matt Sturniolo Boulevard waiting for the hearse that would bring his body back to Graceland. His music filled the air as radio stations throughout the nation paid tribute to the King.

Soon the casket was placed in the entrance hall and opened for viewing. I sat in Grandma’s room most of that afternoon as thousands of mourners from all over the world passed by, paying their last respects. Many wept; some men and women even fainted. Others lingered at the casket, refusing to believe it was him. He was truly loved, admired, and respected.

I waited for the right moment for Lisa and me to say goodbye. It was late that evening, and Matt had already been moved to the living room where the funeral was to be held. It was quiet; everyone had left. Together we stood over him, emotional. “You look so peaceful, Sattnin, so rested. I know you’ll find happiness and all the answers there.” Then I joked, “Just don’t cause any trouble at the Pearly Gates.” Charlotte took my hand and we placed a sterling silver bracelet depicting a mother and child’s clasped hands on his right wrist. “We’ll miss you.” I knew my life would never be the same.

Colonel came to the funeral wearing his usual baseball hat, shirt, and slacks. He disguised his emotions as best he could. Matt had been like his own son. From the old school, the Colonel was considered a coldhearted businessman, but in truth he had stayed faithful and loyal to Matt, even when his career began to slip. This day he asked James to sign a contract extending his position as Matt’s manager. He was already planning ways to keep Matt’s name before the public. He acted quickly, fearful that with Matt gone, James would be too distraught to handle correctly the many proposals and propositions that would be in the offing. James signed.

At the service, Charlotte and I sat with James and his new fiancée, Sandy Miller, Dodger, Delta, Patsy, my parents, Michelle, and the rest of the family. George Hamilton was there. Julia Ernst attended with her husband, Roger Smith. Julia expressed her sympathy so sincerely I felt a genuine bond with her.

J.D. and the Stamps Quartet sang Matt’s favorite gospel songs. James had chosen the preacher, a man who hardly knew Matt and spoke mostly of his generosity. Matt would probably have laughed and told his dad, “Couldn’t you have got a comedian or something?” Matt would not have wanted us to grieve.

After the service we drove to the cemetery, Charlotte and I riding with James and Sandy. It was three miles away and for the whole three miles both sides of the street were lined with mourners, and at the cemetery there were thousands more. The pallbearers—Jerry Schilling, Nate Doe, George Klein, Steven Wright, Billy Smith, Charlie Hodge, Dr. Joe, and Gene Smith—carried the casket to the marble mausoleum where Matt was finally laid to rest. There we held a short ceremony and, one by one, walked to the coffin, kissed or touched it, and spoke a few words of farewell. Shortly after, for security reasons, he was moved to Graceland in the meditation garden, his final resting place.

Before Charlotte and I returned to L.A., James called me to his office. He was overwhelmed with grief. Did I know anything that would help him to understand why his son had died? He never fully accepted it, and I believed his pain led to his own death, just as Grandma later never recovered from James’s death.

When Charlotte and I returned home I was torn, trying to decide what was best for her. Many conflicting stories were coming out in the national publications and I knew these could have a lasting negative effect on her memory of her father. I decided to send her to summer camp. There she could be protected from radio, TV, and newspapers and could be with her many friends, including Debbie and Cindy, Nate and Amber’s children.

By the time she returned, I’d already made plans with Michelle for a long trip to Europe. Anything to get away from the constant reminders that filled the media.

Matt’s death made me much more aware of my own mortality and that of the people I loved. I realized I’d better start sharing a lot more with the people that I cared about, and every moment that I had with my child or my parents became more precious.

I learned from Matt, often—sadly—from his mistakes. I learned that having too many people around can sap your energies. I learned the price of trying to make everyone happy. Matt would bestow gifts on some, making others jealous, often creating rivalries and anxieties within the group. I learned to confront people, and to face issues—two steps Matt had avoided.

I learned to take charge of my life. Matt had been so young when he became a star that he was never able to handle the power and money that accompanied his fame. In many ways, he was a victim, destroyed by the very people who catered to his every want and need. He was a victim, too, of his image. His public wanted him to be perfect while the press mercilessly exaggerated his faults. He never had the chance to be human, to grow up to be a mature adult, to experience the world outside his artificial cocoon.

When Matt Sturniolo died, a little of our own lives was taken from each of us who knew and loved Matt Sturniolo, who shared in his music, his films, who followed his career. His passion was entertaining his friends and fans. His audience was his true love. And the love Matt and I shared was a deep and abiding one.

He was, and remains, the greatest influence in my life.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - sad endings actually kill me. i cried multiple times. thank you so much for all the love & support on this story i really enjoyed it. let me know what kind of writing you would like to see next🎀

[pencileraser1]

pencil eraser one. you word your long posts about dps very well so im pointing my frustration with media-ly illiterate people in your direction. im constantly seething with rage at this podcast episode i listened to a very long time ago abt dps bc they said neils suicide was STUPID and OVERDRAMATIC. and i just. i wanna throw up that boy killed himself and ur calling himnoverdramatic what do i even do. i am high a little and this is very much affecting me i cant get up from this couch 🎀

you're completely correct for this i actually have a few thoughts about this so uh bear with me for a second

theres something that sucks so much about this specific type of criticism of this movie in particular to me because of how much i relate to neil. i watched dps for the first time when i was 17, severely depressed and borderline suicidal and i related So Much to him. i didn't write off his suicide or criticize it because i'd Been There.

generally i feel like this criticism probably stems from lack of understanding Why he would do what he did, and there's a number of reasons that that this could be although that would be leaning a bit too much into psychoanalysis and assuming things i don't know about them so i'm not going to go into it really

up until it happens, neil seems like he's doing mostly okay, and particularly if you haven't seen the movie before i could see how to certain people his suicide might seem overdramatic since it's a bit of a sudden shift from mostly okay to suicidal. but the thing is that up until this point, neil has just been doing a very good job at hiding that something is wrong.

my interpretation of the movie has always been that he'd struggled with some form of depression as well as dealing with some amount of suicidal ideation before the movie and had just generally been good at masking it. during the events of the movie he is the happiest he has ever been because of the combination of the poets, acting, and keating. so when at the end of the play his father suddenly takes away all three, and his options are either to confront his father (something that he feels is impossible to do- even if it technically isn't, the fear he has surrounding it of his father listening but not caring, or making things worse than the are, or anything else, prevents him from doing it) or suffer through 10 years of medical school away from anything he actually cares about, he decides to remove himself from the situation entirely instead.

(theres something about the way his suicide is framed within the movie where in some fucked up way his suicide more than anything else is his carpe diem. he's seizing control of his life in the only way he is physically capable of anymore)

neil's suicide isn't rational but that doesn't mean it doesn't make sense or that he's overdramatic. just because logically waiting out the 10 years until he's away from his dad or leaving as soon as he graduates high school or turns 18 or whatever it is is a better option doesn't mean that 1. he'd have the idea to run away early or more importantly think it doable (he tries so hard to not directly disobey his father the whole movie and after doing it one time is now stuck in This situation, additionally, while this is the 50's and in general shit costed less/jobs were easier to get/etc. he is financially dependent on his father and running away without any support is not the smartest decision) and 2. that he'd be physically capable of enduring the 10 years. because 10 years is a long time Especially if it's 10 years studying to become a doctor, something that is both generally difficult and also something he Doesn't Want To Do. and so the sudden switch from happiest time of his life to suicidal throws people off and they don't understand why he wouldn't have done any of the other options that they thing are the logical ones but to him probably didn't seem physically possible.

[m3nt4llyr4v3d]

Gabriel vs Chloe/Lila

I used to frequent the Miraculous subreddit (biggest mistake of my life) to see others opinions on Seasons 4 and 5. One question I would see pop up usually is as follows:

Why do people think Chloe/Lila is worse than Gabriel?

The common answer I’ve seen is that bullying and isolation are issues that the audience can relate to, something that’s more down to earth and closer to a viewer’s potential issues. Gabriel, meanwhile, is a supervillain who makes other ridiculously costumed supervillains when they feel bad, his situation was farther out, less relatable, so hammed up at times (cartoon and all) that people would take it less seriously.

And honestly? I completely understood this answer: many viewers’ overwhelming hatred of Chloe and Lila, from what I’ve seen, stemmed from personal relation to their victims, and their own experiences with bullies. It’s completely understandable why people would feel this way.

But then I thought about it for a second, and while I still understand that reasoning, I don’t understand it in any other context.

I mean, I’ve seen people on there genuinely say that Gabriel had more redeeming qualities than them, which confuses me. Lila I kind of understand, I mean we know literally nothing about this character, and the fandom reason of “she lies for attention because her mother is barely home”, which would give her sympathy, was a little… muddled, when it’s revealed she has 3 moms that she’s somehow lying to about being their daughter (what on earth) and has multiple identities. But Chloe? Season 2-3 was showing that she did have redeeming qualities, that she cared about people (few but regardless), she was even able to suck up her own pride when being a hero! Gabriel… He’s an odd case in which the story goes back and forth on whether he’s an awful irredeemable monster, or flawed but sympathetic dad trying his best, while also flip flopping on when exactly they want you to believe as much. Right now? He’s horrible, but the narrative want you to believe he’s just “trying his best” and thinks that he somehow has the room to ask Marinette to “tell Adrien to remember all the times I was a good father” (Marinette should’ve spat on his statue ngl)

Also, Gabriel is a neglectful, dare I say abusive father! Literally mind controls his son and is trying to control him to have the “destiny” that HE wants, not caring about his son at all. He literally pretends to bond with him at one point in Season 5 just so he could give him an alliance ring and walk off smirking, planning on akumatizing him (never brought up again btw). Like, I get that Hawkmoth is more of a hammy cartoon villain, and a lot of those aspect spill into Gabriel (I mean he had a silly stupid number near the beginning of season 5 that I hate to love). But the Gabriel half is genuinely horrible, and those aspects spill into Hawkmoth. Akumatizing, physically abusing your son, and ruining his relationship to akumatize his girlfriend in Chat Blanc, emotionally manipulating him with his dead mother in both Chat Blanc and Ephemeral, literally any time he causes an akuma on purpose by ruining the life of someone he used to be close with or personally knows (the comedian, Andre, anyone working under him), emotionally manipulating his son AGAIN just so he could plan to akumatize him later, locking him up in a white room and emotionally depriving him of everything, literally everything he does in season 5 actually. I understand that some of his more atrocious actions are supervillain things, and that could be more difficult to relate to real life problems. But come on, “neglectful, abusive, controlling parent” is absolutely a real life issue that people have, and it’s a bit strange I haven’t seen that brought up more often

I’m not saying that Chloe and Lila are saints by any means at all! But I am just saying that’s it’s kind of funny that people will say, with their whole chest, that vindictive bullying is actually worse than terrorism and abusing your child, and the idea that the narrative could agree with this scares me

[twitteringnerdsneverfly]

Is Yashiro’s sexuality innate or his another coping mechanism against his trauma, as if the trauma is too early (he said himself that he was raped even before knowing what affection was) and too severe that his brain restructures itself to survive?

Hi @kyrieren ! You are my first ask woo! 🥳 I am not a neuropsychiatrist however 😅 neither am I a psychologist, all I can give you is my personal opinion, and it may be very scientifically inaccurate!

However, I can add a caveat that I have personal experience with trauma (not Yashiro-type trauma tho) and I do have some friends irl who have had childhood trauma and these are merely my layman observations + research 🧐

Childhood attachment is an attachment theory of how we learn to develop, cope and bond with people in the world. It's said that your romantic attachment style will be your childhood attachment style because it's what you've grown up with, what you know, how to deal with the people closest to you. Romantic relationships tend to bring out your attachment style because parental and romantic relationships are usually the closest you are to another human being.

Given that childhood attachment teaches us how to relate to the world and people, this becomes familiar and what we know.

The worst childhood attachment style: insecure disorganised attachment.

This is when a child is betrayed by the caregivers around them, who are meant to provide a safe, secure, loving base and instead what the child receives is physical, sexual, emotional or neglectful abuse.

The brain gets fucked, it's scrambled, a child cannot comprehend what is happening. All you know as a child is that mom/dad/uncle/etc is hurting you and they are your caregivers, who you rely upon in this world.

Unfortunately, it is unbearable to think as a child that mom/dad etc is bad (how are you to cope / survive if the people you rely upon are either bad or don't love you?) so unfortunately what tends to happen are the following:

The child starts to think they're bad

The child starts to rationalise that they must deserve the punishment

That punishment is misconstrued as an act of love / given a positive spin

None of these are verbalised / articulated / rationalised states. A lot of the time they are subconscious, automatic.

Enter Yashiro.

IMHO, Yashiro's betrayal from his caregivers, his insecure disorganized attachment (which also he displays avoidant attachment traits too), is so severe that he has warped the trauma into a good thing. It is unbearable for him to think that his mom and step father have betrayed / abused him to such a degree so he has taken the most painful part of it, and fooled himself into thinking "it wasn't so bad, kinda liked it".

So in his adult sexual relationships Yashiro, in my opinion subconsciously, finds himself acting out the abuse again and again: hands tied, taken from behind, can't see the face. And claims this is his preference.

To deal with all the trauma, Yashiro's brain has combined the severity of the trauma that has left its mark upon his brain with "oh I'm addicted to sex, and sex in this particularly painful way" without adding everything together.

This fucked up way Yashiro has sex is his trauma and attachment all combined. Unspoken within the attachment are things like: this is what I must do to feel safe, this is what I must do to survive / get on the good side of this person.

Yashiro has a kind of detachment to his trauma or so he claims, yet it is so embedded in his brain as the norm that it's his preference because this type of sex is what is familiar.

So yes Kyrieren, in answer to your question, Yashiro's sexuality is his coping mechanism.

It's what he had to put up with to survive, and his brain has now twisted it to think it wasn't so bad, maybe he even liked it. It makes the trauma more digestible to Yashiro this way.

ENTER DOUMEKI.

Doumeki threatens this entire narrative Yashiro has given himself to cope, "oh I like sex this way, it's not so bad, I don't feel anything otherwise, this is what I want".

Yashiro HAD to believe he wanted / wants sex this way because he had no other choice. He was raped and abused. And he has done as best as any trauma survivor could.

Doumeki represents choice and also a shattering of Yashiro's previous beliefs and the super uncomfortable mirror that what happened to Yashiro was not OK, he was betrayed, painful sex is not the norm, nothing to do with his abuse is OK - he is now allowed and able to choose another way. But this is unfamiliar and scary for our dear Yashiro, and holds a lot of painful realisations.

Thanks to Kyrieren for asking the question!