#i just know they’d think it was their fault and it literally isn’t

[fingertipsmp3]

Just sent the email withdrawing from my course and now I’m nervous lol

[lizzobetumblin]

Melissa hated her feelings. 

She buried them in a chest in the 5th grade (along with her ability to express them). Other peoples' feelings on the other hand was her forte. She could process, decipher and regurgitate other peoples emotions effortlessly. This gift could’ve taken her through college, all the way to a degree in psychology. Distinguished Dr. Jefferson with a PhD and a cozy office and impressive roster of high-profile, weallthy clients was a shiny idea. Fate would have a different hand for Melissa her talents were exhausted on mediating family fights, friend group drama, and charming her way out of confronting her own feelings. 

“Feelings.” Even saying it out loud to herself seemed silly. Something reserved for ‘cry babies’ and water signs. Typical Sunday nights started tame, reading or writing fan-fiction and drinking cranapple juice. And then like clock work her father would yell her name, 

‘MELISSA!!!’ Emotionless, she’d get up dust off her Winnie the Pooh shorts and make her way downstairs. On the long walk down the hall to the stairs leading to the living room brawl, she’d go through her check list: 

1.) Don’t cry.   

 2.) Stay neutral; Deescalate

3.)Don’t take anything personal. This isn’t about you

She padded down the carpeted stairs in her old soft socks to see her mother tightlipped and tear streaked thinking, 

‘she broke rule number 1’. Her father, Michael was proud and angry, his big belly filled with self righteousness. She knew he would be unyielding in his resolve and at this point her only option was to deescalate.

 ‘Rule number 2’. Then her sister the water sign and calamity for the evening sat on the floor nearly fetal, face red and raw with emotion. 

‘Its not your fault’ Melissa wanted to say ‘You just didn’t follow the rules… you’re loved.’ But she couldn’t say that because she’d be breaking rule number 3. It wasn’t about how Melissa felt. Even though she felt like screaming,

“VANESSA, YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG. DAD—YOU JUST HAVE PENT UP ANGER BECAUSE YOU GREW UP IN THE HOOD OF DETROIT AS A BLACK MAN IN THE 60s AND 70s. YOU NEED A HEALTHY OUTLET LIKE.. I DONT KNOW… THERAPY?!?!?! THIS IS A WASTE OF ALL OF OUR TIME. I LITERALLY JUST WROTE THE BEST SAILOR SATURN x CHIBI USA FANFICTION EVER AND THIS IS KILLING MY VIBE!”

Instead, she decide to hear every one out. She decided to help. To calm her dragon of a father down. To be a translator for her emotional sister. To not take it personal. To stay neutral. To not cry. 

9 years later, at her fathers funeral she still never broke the rules. She played her flute and spoke at his memorial. She was present for her mother because it wasn’t about her. When other peoples' emotions bubbled up she stayed neutral. She sat through both services and she did not cry. It wasn’t until she excused herself to make a phone call outside did she collapse onto the stairs of the funeral home and weep alone in the cold Detroit snow. 

It’s okay to break the rules sometimes, she reminded herself. As long as no one else sees it.

Traumas began to compact on Melissa, as they do. Humans tend to collect traumas like pebbles on a long hike. We toss them into our backpacks and keep moving forward. Some hikers would falter, but Melissa was built for this. She’d carried the stones of her family’s traumas uphill for years. She was strong. 

When men began to befriend and reject her, saying ‘you’re too good for me’ but not too good to make them feel good. She carried that. 

When childhood friends began to cut off the strings of her heart, saying ‘We can’t be friends anymore’. She carried that.

When her family separated like dandelion seeds, it seemed like they’d never be together again. Melissa slept on so many couches, floors and car seats sometimes she didn’t know if she’d see them again. 

She carried that. 

Dying was never an option though sometimes she didn’t mind the thought of it. Peace and warmth were two things she’d desperately yearned and hadn’t felt fully since the womb. Then one night in the pitch black of the hot, sweaty, roach-infested studio in southeast Houston she slept in she wondered:

‘Why can’t I break the rules?’ She’d seen everyone else in her life break them like popsicle sticks. And she didn’t just want to break the rules, she wanted to break them boldly and loudly and annoyingly and honestly and sloppily like every one else gets to do. It was in that moment, tucked in a thin jacket inside of an 8-foot high instrument cubby in the inky darkness—it hit her. 

‘Is my suffering for a high purpose? Or is my suffering trying to kill me?’ 

She cried. 

She escalated. 

She took it personal. 

But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream in a microphone in a sea of shadowy faces. She drank whiskey and wove her pain into rock music. 

‘Music is my boyfriend’ she declared. The only man that kept his baggage to hisself. And it healed her. It gave her voice reason and purpose. 

The pebble-laden hike became lighter with time. The incline eventually evened out to flat, beautiful landscapes where the breeze finally met her back. She knew it wasn’t gonna be easy or sunshine but even the rain cleansed her and it was beautiful too. 

Somewhere in the rain she decided rules were meant to be built and broken. Like trust and love and friendships and families. Because every thing deserves the opportunity to change and grow. 

So... She broke rule number 1 on stage while singing a beautiful song. Dr. Jefferson (PhD) screamed for her to stop but she didn’t listen and the tears flowed like rivers of emotion down her cheeks. 

Rule number 2 was broken when she grew older and saw the injustices of the world. Marching with hundreds in protest she realized not everything needs to be pacified. 

And one day when she finally fell in love, she broke rule number 3. No matter how much training she’d done she couldn't help but take every thing her lover said and did personal. But it was ok. Because in all her resistance she realized breaking rules was her power. 

Melissa began to fall for her feelings. Her feelings gave life purpose. They weren’t always logical, as feelings seldom are. They were sloppy and embarrassing and rude and so fucking uncomfortable. But they were hers. And they were real. And when she sat alone sipping wine, staring at the moon…They were the only ones still by her side. Ready to break the rules for her because they loved her. 

And she finally loved them back. 

[staryuee]

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[batterygarden]

oh no! your big brother's best friend is the only one around to help you put in a tampon 😣.

yuuta x fem & afab reader. 18+ MDNI.

cw: yuuta is his own tw, somewhat taboo dynamics bc he has viewed you as a sibling, graphic period descriptions and blood, um it's sexualized, everyone's adults, reader just hasn't used a tampon before, yuuta masturbating mention, 1.3k words

“I just- I don’t know what to do. She wants us to take pictures in the pool! Like, I can’t avoid it!”

“Um. Maybe one of the other bridesmaids could help?” 

“I’ve barely spoken to any of them! They’d think I’m so dumb, Yuuta!”

Yuuta can only lean against the bathroom door and bite his tongue, completely at a loss. He wonders if even the wisest man alive would know how to navigate this type of thing—his best friend’s grown little sister’s period troubles. 

“‘M sorry.” He says earnestly. 

He hears you sniffle and mumble how it’s not his fault. Then there’s a slam of what’s presumably a cardboard tampon box thrown to the floor. 

“God, these instructions aren't helping at all! It hurts!” 

Yuuta’s pretty sure it’s not supposed to, at least from his experience knowing people who menstruate. Tampons are, like, tiny. He catches himself before he can really pursue the train of thought he starts heading towards—one where he contemplates if you’re a virgin, and if somehow that could make it harder to put in. He has to mentally slap himself; he’s being disgusting. 

“The YouTube video I sent—“ 

“No, yuuta, I swear, my vagina’s just, like. Different from anyone else’s. I need a doctor to do this, not some video.” 

You’re talking through quiet sobs and he’s concerned and he cares about you but Yuuta also can’t help but think you’re being a bit ridiculous. Soon the both of you will be late to your own brother’s wedding. 

“I can’t do this! I'm really and truly starting to freak out, Yuu!”

“Okay, I think—“ 

“Can you just come in and help?” 

The breath is knocked from his lungs.

“Uhh..”

“Please Yuuta there’s no one else who can! We’ll be late!” 

Yuuta purses his lips, checking the time on his phone for maybe the third time in the past minute. 

“Um…” 

“Please, just come in”

Deep exhale. “Alright then, I’m opening the door.” 

When he does, he finds you exactly the way he expected, perched on your toilet with closed legs, your baggy tee barely concealing the space between your thighs—he’s glad to note that your hair and makeup at least seem to already be done and your dress is hung up and ready. He spots the tampon box on the ground in front of you, its contents spilling out on the bathroom tiles. Then his eyes find your hands hovering over your lap, one of them clutching a plastic tampon applicator, both of them with bloody fingertips. 

Yuuta squares his shoulders. 

“So what’s the situation?” 

He’s very consciously only looking at your eyes when he asks, staring too long anywhere else feels rude. 

“This thing is literally tearing up my insides everytime I try to use it—maybe I’m not putting it in the right way.”

“Kay,” Yuuta’s thoughts seem to be moving incredibly slow. “Uh, do you wanna try again and I could, like, read the instructions for you while you do it?” 

You huff, giving a nod. 

“Okay.” He fumbles with the box, sitting next to you on the edge of the bathtub. Another deep breath. 

“Place the tip of the applicator at the vagina opening…” he notices you doing so out of his peripheral. His cheeks could not get any redder. 

“Now slide it in, up to where your fingers are.” 

He notices the way you hold your breath when you try—then you squeal. 

“No, this sucks yuuta! I can’t even do that—I need to angle it perfectly parallel to my tummy so it won’t hurt and I just can’t.” 

He sees you’ve taken out the applicator again. 

“I honestly think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be, yn.” 

“Well how would you even know?” 

“I mean. I’ve seen a woman put in a tampon before…” 

“The YouTube animation isn’t the same, Yuu!” 

“Uh, well… I meant maki.” 

Yuuta watches as just about every emotion on earth briefly crosses your face. 

“That’s—“ you shake your head. “Why?!” 

Suddenly he wishes he had just kept his credibility to himself. 

“She was my girlfriend at the time, it’s not like it was weird! What I’m trying to say is, you should just relax and not think about it so hard. I think you’re too tense and that’s why you’re getting hurt.” 

You hyperventilate a bit again—hopefully getting it out of your system—before nodding and trying again. This attempt ends in another sob. 

And there Yuuta sits, a foot away beside you, staring at the ceiling and praying to whatever god is out there for this moment to pass. 

“Yuuta—“ you sniffle, “can you do it for me?” 

…

Yuuta sighs a deep, long sigh. He… had an idea that’s where this was headed. And what’s he supposed to do? Leave you hanging right before a huge wedding which you’re both in the party of? While you’re crying and freaking out? 

“��alright, I’ll try.” 

He rolls up his sleeves, then he washes his hands, holding them up like he’s about to perform surgery.  

You offer the tampon. 

Gingerly, he plucks the bloody applicator from your fingers. 

He squats down in front of you then, eyes flicking to your sniffling face while wearing his own similar, very somber, expression. 

“You’re gonna have to open your legs.” 

Slowly, you do. 

And yuuta tries not to be weird about it—he doesn’t know what even constitutes a normal reaction here, but he can’t help but instantly engrave the image of your spread pussy, blood staining its lips and dripping out of it, permanently into his brain. He knows it’s permanent because he doesn’t want it to be. He knows he’ll think about it because he’ll try not to. This is some kind of test from the universe and he is failing. 

He stares for a second, instinctively catching every detail. The way red smears across the plush insides of your thighs, the way you clench yourself automatically under his gaze, the way a red drop oozes from your hole when you do. The shape of your lips leading up to your clit. 

He shakes his head microscopically to clear it, hoping you don’t pick up on his pause. He uses one hand to grip onto a thigh then, holding steady while he brings the applicator to you for the millionth time today. You make a worried noise. 

“Breathe for me?” 

When he hears you exhale, Yuuta eases the applicator in bit, angling it up whatever way feels natural, then he pushes the trigger so the tampon’s inserted. 

You make a surprised gasp, mumbling a little oh my god before sitting up straight. Yuuta knows it’s finally in there correctly. 

His hands are washed and he is out of that room faster than you could say thank you. 

The drive to the event is less awkward than it could be, thanks to the news podcast Yuuta always listens to and an interesting story spurring on conversation. But yuuta can’t stop thinking about it. He’s known you since you were kids—only ever looked at you like a somewhat annoying little sibling—but now his brain keeps reverting to thoughts of your warm little pussy every other minute. When you talk, when you look at him, when you hold his arm walking down the aisle before the bride. When you dance later in the night. And most importantly, when his fist’s around his cock in his hotel room later, turning in early even after one of your pretty cousins kept trying to get inside his pants all night. He might not have turned her down under different circumstances, but he knew he had to when his head kept reverting to you, eyes darting to find you at the reception almost every other minute. Drifting to your body whenever they did…

[katyawriteswhump]

moonlight and lace

For @steddieangstyaugust day 7 prompt, Moonlight. (Originally, it was for day 6, ‘who did this’ but then moonlight took over somehow, which gave me more time, too!)

Rating: M WC: 1880 Content warnings: kidnap, captivity, abuse, severe trauma, non-explicit horror and torture, unwanted touching, victim self-blaming, all dead dove, so yeah, I mean it, sorry! Tags: extreme angst with eventual hurt/comfort. No Upside Down AU.

Summary: That last night with Eddie, Steve did literally everything wrong… and then he went and got kidnapped and clings to fraying dreams of putting things right.

 …

Steve watched the strip of moonlight creep slowly across the cellar. With his thumb, he fretted his bloodstained lace cuff, freeing it from where it caught beneath his manacles.

Night time. Moonlight. A lump clogged Steve’s throat.

The moon had shone that last time he’d seen Eddie—not imagined, nor hallucinated, but properly laid eyes on his boyfriend, Eddie Munson. He and Eddie had kissed, and Steve had been in a rush. Crap, he’d been in a shitty mood, and he’d taken Eddie’s smoochy sweetness for granted.

Not anymore.

He’d relived each moment of that parting a thousand times over. Eddie had wound his arms around Steve’s neck and rubbed his face in Steve’s hair. “I could get high on you, Babe. Even without inhaling a lungful of Farrah Fawcett.” 

Steve had wriggled free, and their last kiss had been rushed. He’d been cranky, tired, in a hurry to get home.

Now, Steve sniffled and shifted his aching bones. His chains didn’t allow him to lie flat, or even sit comfortably on the concrete floor. He’d literally trade his wretched life to press his clammy brow to a dry pillow. Or to snuggle beneath a warm blanket that would cut out the biting cold. Or to go back to that fateful evening with Eddie, and…

…not toss his entire world into a dumpster.

Because, somehow, this was Steve’s fault, right?

Scoops had been quiet the final hour of that final day, with only one or two lone customers. Robin had disappeared round the back of the store with Vickie, and Steve had gotten all intense with Eddie in a booth. His words had haunted him for… Shit, he didn’t know how long he’d been a prisoner here. He’d not scratched the days on the walls, like Dustin or anybody who wasn’t a braindead idiot would’ve done.

He’d just slowly lost count.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna be with you, Eddie,” he’d said, back in that booth, idly picking the fudge topping from their shared sundae. “It’s only that… Look, I always dreamed about a wedding and then family, and I just can’t wrap my head around how that’s gonna work with us. I mean, I know I’m only nineteen and all, but if we’re gonna foster or adopt, we have to think about this adult shit. And, seriously, I want a proper wedding, which isn’t even legal! Could be one day, though, and Robin says we need to make a stand about these things, so we gotta think about costume and—”

“Sssssh.” Eddie had pressed his fingertips to Steve’s lips. “We’ll make it work, Babe.”

Steve scowled, and Eddie’s warm touch slipped away. “You gonna give me more bullshit about marriage being a crypto-fascist institution?"

“Nope.” Eddie leaned closer and said, in a barely audible whisper, “That dude in the next booth is listening.”

Steve flicked his hair from his eyes, surreptitiously peeped. He couldn’t even see the accused guy’s face beneath his hooded top. “You’re the one who says we should be out and proud,” bitched Steve. “Why be a wuss about it now? Jesus!”

“It’s not that, Honey. He keeps staring at you, and I’ve seen him here before. He’s giving me the creeps.”

“Woah. Jealous?”

“Always. But I’m being serious for once.” 

After that, Eddie had wanted to walk Steve back to his car. Of course, Steve had refused: “Like I need the Prince of Geek to defend my honor.”

They’d parted near the delivery entrance of Starcourt, and Eddie had walked away to his van. Steve had hurried toward his BMW alone, across the moonlit employee parking lot.

He’d been here, in this cellar, ever since. Long enough to understand that a future with Eddie would always have been beautiful. Might even have been that Winnebago and six little nuggets, and instead…

…there’d been that sickening crack across the back of his head and then nothing. Then worse than nothing.

In his prison, a flash of daylight between the broken shutters usually woke Steve. He’d often be ripped from a fevered dream about Eddie. He dreamed about his other friends, too, but it was always Eddie who he imagined coming to free him.

And when that too-bright light stirred him? His heart would thump like it was gonna burst through his ribcage and he’d blink the mists from his eyes.

For a magical heartbeat, Eddie would still be there, rushing toward him, arms open, eyes wide with forgiveness. Always forgiveness, because Steve craved that most of all.

“Who did this?” Eddie would ask, taking Steve’s face in his hands.

I did? I deserved it, Eddie, I…

Eddie would crumble to dust. The masked figure looming in Eddie’s place would grab Steve bodily, partially unchaining him, then hauling and twisting and shoving him toward the bucket and then… and then…

Some days, they’d strip that disgusting lacey wedding dress from him, sponge him down with ice-cold water, dress him again. Like he was a doll. Bending and manipulating him, the sicko would arrange Steve however he chose, because Steve was too weak to struggle. He was a ragdoll.

Steve had gotten good at shutting his mind down to the touching. He’d learned that skill fast—even in the early days, when they’d kept him in his Scoops uniform, and when he’d still tried to fight back. 

Which never went well. 

His movements were sluggish—he figured he’d been drugged, though his head hadn’t been right since they’d brained him behind Starcourt. Also in those early times, when he���d realized screaming meant more pain, he used to suck on that dumbass red neckerchief from his Scoops uniform. Recently, in the wedding dress, he’d battle to get to that grubby lace cuff, so he could bite and tear and chew.

That was his mornings. He was okay at night, though. Always left alone.

Until everything changed.

Steve heard shouting and thumping, the petrifying ratter-tat of gunshots, and then his own desperate cry, frail and distant. Then he froze completely, ragged nails gouging through the lace and into his palm. This was not the routine. Eddie was here and his face was eerily underlit by torchlight, rather than marbled by the moon, and it was wrong, all wrong, and…

…it’s not Eddie. It’s never Eddie. It’s HIM.

Steve attempted to curl into a ball, chains clinking, teeth grinding as he braced for… what? A gentle touch on his shoulder had his lungs jamming up.

“Hey, Steve? You with me?” The rumbling voice was distantly familiar. The smell… male and sweaty… different to that putrid musk he’d choked on too many times. “It’s me, Chief Hopper. You’re safe now, okay? We caught the crazy son-of-a-bitch, and we’re gonna get you out of here. You with me? You understand?”

Steve peeped up. Then screwed his eyes tightly shut. “Dream,” he whispered. The furnace-like heat of the other man’s body made him shiver violently.

“No, kid. I’m really here. You’re gonna be okay now.” Then, in an ear-splitting yell: “Hey? HEY! Where are those goddamn bolt-cutters? This kid is not in good shape.”

In the hospital, Steve fiddled with the IV drip then the bracelet they lopped about this wrist. He missed the tattered lace and he had to focus on something. Looking up into people’s faces was more than he could handle.

His friends were freaked by him. From the tail of his eye, he watched his parents gawking at him, like he was a china doll. Still a fucking doll. His mom squeezed his hand and it hurt way worse than it should. He bit his sore lip that, even now, refused to heal.

Eventually, he snatched a sharp inbreath, and glanced up at Robin. Her squeak reminded him of that cellar rat that’d bit his foot once. Drawing on every last ounce of his strength, he tried again and this time held her terror-struck gaze.

“Steve, um, sorry. It’s just this is the first you’ve looked at—" 

“How long since they brought me here?”

“Uh… lemme think. Eight days?”

She’d turned ghostly white beneath her freckles. His heart heaved a dull thud. “Why hasn’t Eddie come to see me?”

“He has, Steve. He visits every day. They stopped letting him in. When you see him… I dunno, he triggers something bad. You totally flake out.”

“Oh.” What more was there to say? Other than, “Can you say sorry for me?”

“What for?”

“I… I honestly can’t remember, apart from... Oh God, please, Robin. You gotta help me. I need to see him.”

The next thing he knew, he’d flung his arms around her, and he was sobbing into her chest. She hugged back, rubbing juddering circles on his back. He didn’t remember the last time he cried. Then again, his memory had more holes in it than… a frayed lace cuff.

It felt like a century between when she left and when she came back. She held his hand loosely and said, “Eddie’s here, Steve. He’s real, I promise. It’s all real and you’re gonna get through this, and you’re gonna be okay.”

“Liar.” Steve smirked, then his mouth dropped open and turned dry. Eddie stood not two yards off, clutching the doorframe.

“Stevie, listen—I’ll never forgive myself for not walking you back to your car.”

“Seriously?” Steve shrank from Eddie’s tragedy-filled eyes. Panic jostled from every angle, especially as Robin released his hand and backed away. “Well... I guess it would’ve been cool to have some company in that basement.”

“Honey, how can you joke—”

“Gotta do something.” Steve fiddled with his wristband. He sensed Eddie edging closer.

Don’t lose your shit, Harrington. Say what you have to say. You thought about it long enough.

“Look, Eddie, I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry I was a bitch that night. I’m still up for kids, if I’m not too broken to be a parent, though you’re in luck on one thing. There’s no goddamn way I’m ever getting dressed up for a wedding.”

“I can’t laugh at that either,” said Eddie, “you’re sick, Baby.”

“Hah! No shit.”

Eddie enfolded Steve in his arms. He whispered that there was nothing to forgive. He’d known Steve was beat that night and had never been mad about it, even before Steve had been snatched. Anyhow, Eddie had apparently been dead cranky the day before it all happened, although Steve remembered nothing of that, and…

Steve tuned out. It was all too much. Thank Christ he hasn’t taken my face in his hands.

He pressed his cheek to Eddie’s shoulder, revelled in that fluffy hair, breathed deep of the scent of Eddie. Tobacco… A touch of cherry twizzlers? Really, truly, Eddie. The lights seemed to dim, and he watched the moonlight trickle through the hospital blinds.

Moonlight. Oh shit.

“This is real,” murmured Steve. “Right?”

...

(it is real, he really got rescued, okay? Unless you reeeeally wanted the angsty horror ending, but I say he escaped...)

Thanks for reading!

All my ST stuff on AO3

[slotumn]

Some notes on how I personally like to write the lords + Rhea+ Shezleth wrt sacrifices and deaths and moral dilemmas they face when they make decisions

Basically,

Edelgard: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to bring change and ensure more don’t die in the future under an unjust system

Rhea: People will die because of my decisions, but it must be done in order to maintain stability and ensure more don’t die in the future under chaos and turmoil

Dimitri: People have died because of me and my decisions, I know it’s unforgivable no matter what and I will atone for it by avenging them (feral mode)/saving as much as or more than I have killed (post-feral clarity)

Claude: People have died because of me and my decisions, but that was the best I could do in my situation, and as long as I/we stay alive thanks to that I/we still have a chance to turn things around for the better

Byleth: People dying is people dying and nobody knows if any of your decisions will be “justified” until it plays out. I’ll help you get the results that will hopefully “justify” your decisions because I love and support you, but honestly, all that shit you're saying is just cope

Shez: Cool cool, where’s my fucking money

As you can tell the main foils/contrasts I like are Rhea <–> Edelgard, Dimitri <–> Claude, and Shez+Byleth. More rambling about it under the cut

For Rhea and Edelgard, I like to focus on them being similar people at different points of life/the project they’ve dedicated their lives to. I’m sure people have already made the analysis about parallels between them, from losing their families/conquering the continent/etc etc but basically, they have very similar philosophies/attitudes/outlooks, and the difference is whether the current system and dominant ideology is what they like or not.

I think that a young Seiros, fleeing a genocide and recruiting allies in the south, would have had faced similar objections Edelgard did; Nemesis may not be the most benevolent ruler, yes, and we don’t literally believe everything his regime preaches, but at least things are manageable and stable if we play along, especially down here in the south. Do we really need to risk everything we have to go up and fight him? Your ideas hold appeal, but some of us don’t find it appealing enough to die for it.

And similarly, I think Edelgard, if she grew old enough to see her system really take root in society, would say a lot of the same things that Rhea would've liked to say, when younger generations complain; look, what we have isn’t perfect, but you really don’t want to see what it was like before, and the fact you can have these complaints at all are a testament to the system I’ve made working. And if you try to burn all this down out of youthful passion, it’s more likely that we will regress instead of progress.

For Dimitri and Claude, it’s about how they deal with guilt; on a personal level, specifically. Politically I think they’d take or dodge responsibility as is necessary lol

Dimitri is straightforward, almost too straightforward. Not great at coming up with excuses, or rather, excusing himself. His way of facing the guilt is very one on one; taking blood for blood, while he's feral. Saving life for life taken, post-feral clarity. And even then, deep down he feels like ("knows") it's will never be enough. And he takes on all that guilt head on even in places where it's not his fault, a.k.a. survivor's guilt.

Claude, meanwhile, dude is a mental gymnastic gold medalist (affectionate). It's not that he doesn't feel guilt, but I think he's very good at seemingly minimizing it, excusing it, and convincing himself that he's better off focusing on other things. As for survivor's guilt, I'm not saying Claude wouldn't ever feel it, but he'd focus on the fact he survived, rather than the guilt.

Finally, Byleth and Shez. Honestly I think they have pretty similar outlooks, it's just a matter of how they explain it lol. The role I like to give these two is reality checkers; because the lords and Rhea can have their debates about Ideology™ and The System™ and Morality™ and Responsibility™ of it all they'd like, but in the end, it's people like Shez and Byleth doing the dirty work and dying on the field for the decisions.

And when people die, the physical, material reality is that they're fucking dead. Attach causes and justifications and obligations and excuses to their corpses as you want, but at the end of the day, it is a corpse and the person is dead. That's the reality they've always lived in, and not just as a one-off incident, either; the thing they do for survival is fighting and killing. They have a "It Is What It Is" type of attitude as a baseline, because, well... it is. Doesn't mean they don't feel things about it. Doesn't mean they don't want to save people where they can. Nonetheless— they know all too well that what happens is what happens.

For this reason, I like to think that grand moralistic judgements are not their thing, no matter the route; they don't even think the lord they sided with is fundamentally more correct/better. Like, come on, when they were asked to choose a house upon arriving at Garreg Mach, they probably weren't weighing their options based on who'd be the most "objectively" "morally" correct if a war broke out between the three (+the Church).

That being said, I think they definitely have a sense of what's good. But it's not the philosophical/abstract type of good you might hear the other four get into debates about. Shez and Byleth's idea of good is, in many ways, very small and inconsequential— but grander concepts of morality can't exist without it. And I like to think that the reason why Shez and Byleth become so important to the side they picked isn't just because of their powers, but also because the constantly they remind others of those small good things.

"Good" to Shez and Byleth is having enough to eat; having warm clothes and bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads; spending time with the people they care about and seeing them safe. It's quite animalistic, in a way; interesting, considering that Agarthans belittle their enemies by calling them beasts.

But I don't think those two would be particularly affected by being called animals for that reason. "These beasts are happy— what about you?"

[twoelectrichearts]

My mom and I are currently watching a show together called Miracle Workers. We checked it out because Daniel Radcliffe is a part of the cast. It’s a pretty unique show, each season is set in an entirely different environment and the actors are the same, but they play different characters. I don’t think I’ve ever watched a show like it. Anyways, we’re on season 3 and boy oh boy, I wanna scream because I just got done watching episode 3. So there’s this character named Ezekiel who’s in love with his best friend Prudence. Prudence is married to this guy named Todd. Their relationship is absolutely horrendous. I literally don’t understand how they even became a couple in the first place. Maybe they’ll explain how later, but wow it’s toxic with a capital T. Todd even asks Ezekiel if he should stop fighting for something that will never work and if he should let her go. You know what Ezekiel says? That he shouldn’t give up. That he should try and make it work. That he should tell her how he feels. And you know what Todd says? That he’s not good with words like Ezekiel is. So you know what Ezekiel does? He says he can write something for him to read to her.

Ugghh… sweet, selfless, dumb dumb Ezekiel writes exactly how he feels about Prudence, how she’s his best friend, how she’s the most amazing woman he’s ever met, how he promises to always be by her side, and that he loves her. He assumes that Todd must feel that way as well. I mean, they’re in a relationship. They’re freaking married so he must feel that way, right? Yeah, no, he doesn’t. It literally doesn’t matter that they’re together and married. Their relationship is garbage. They’d be broken up if Ezekiel wasn’t selfless to a fault. He saved their relationship with that letter. He saved their relationship with his feelings that he disguised as Todd’s. Sound familiar? But did he really save their relationship? I can guarantee you that their relationship isn’t going to last. There’s no way in hell that we’re supposed to be rooting for Todd and Prudence. That was clear from the beginning of the season, but even more so now that Ezekiel’s love was added to the equation. Why make Todd and Prudence an unbearable couple and have Ezekiel in love with Prudence then? Oh yeah, because we’re supposed to be rooting for Ezekiel and Prudence to end up together. Anyone who watches this show would be able to see that. I swear, the only reason why some people don’t see that with Byler is because they’re both boys. If Byler was a straight relationship everyone would be eating it up. I can just look up to see if Ezekiel and Prudence end up together, but since I’ve agreed to watch it with my mom, I won’t spoil myself. I know that they’re getting a good ending anyways. Daniel Radcliffe’s characters are always in love with Geraldine Viswanathan’s characters. It’s always a good ending for them. There’s no reason why this season would end differently. But yeah anyways if Byler doesn’t end up together, it’d make ZERO sense. I cannot make sense of them not ending up together. I’ve tried and I can’t. It’d be beyond horrible writing. They made Mike and El’s relationship so bad, they made Will in love with Mike, and they made Will “fix” their relationship with the painting and monologue where he disguised his feelings as El’s. Again, if Byler was a straight ship, everyone would be rooting for them to end up together.

[preciadosbass]

31/7/24

woke up at 10 and had my breakfast [blehh] while looking at r/scene. also, heard about and saw the GERARD WAY SIGHTING??? RAA I LITERALLY WENT FERAL. HES SO COOL — my dad immediately started talking about my ARFID appointment today and i said that i didn’t know whether i was going yet. [which is what i’ve been saying for weeks.] but he said that id said yes to going. i love my parents, but they [mostly always my mum] do/does switch my words a lot and tend to think things happened/didn’t happen when they did/didnt.

i ended up going to my room after saying good morning to boris because he [my dad] started raising his voice and getting defensive even though i’d already explained that i’m scared to go and that i wont know how to tell the truth. my mum recommended me going and just listening to what the dietitian has to say but i didn’t see the point in listening to my parents talk about my ARFID and get everything wrong. [which isn’t entirely their fault, because i don’t talk about it — it’d just be triggering. especially because i cant speak for myself to a total adult stranger and if i did i’d expose my restrictive eating.]

he followed me into my room and started shouting so we got into an argument and when i verified i wasn’t going because everyone was being pushy he caved in and told me that i’m not allowed any of my safe foods and walked off. which i genuinely don’t understand as the whole appointment is about trying to get me to eat and he’s ultimately banning that for when i am willing to eat. i know my parents try their best but they don’t always have the best ways of putting it across. i get it, though. i know going to meetings is annoying for them but they’re always talking about how useless it is and how they can’t be bothered etc but if i confront them they say that they’ve never said such things.

after all that they’d already left and i obviously felt unmotivated to do anything for the rest of the day. my parents also told me that i’m not allowed to go on a walk today because i wasn’t deciding if i was going to go [even though they know i do terribly making decisions under pressure and they were rushing me and shouting] so that sucks. a lot. i cant eat now incase i go over my cals because i wont be able to burn it off. i feel so guilty about getting upset at my parents because it must be so hard to have a kid like me, genuinely.

i went back off to my room after checking boris is okay and started reading heartstopper again. i haven’t read the books since i was in school and i much prefer them to the series. i listening to my sad-ish playlist while reading because it’s more calming and easier to concentrate with. i finished the first book within around 13 minutes and then went on my phone for a bit. i was just scrolling aimlessly so i had a nap for 2/3 hours.

after waking up a had a bit of food and sat outside on the driveway with boris while playing ‘better music?’ on roblox because i had nothing better to do on my phone. then i did literally nothing up until 10:50 when i got boris inside and started listening to blur [cuz i’m bri’sh innit]. i started playing roblox again at around 11 and was on it for a short while until my mum came into my room and said that her and my dad are ready for me to ask my questions about boris.

i did it decently quickly although my dad did talk about me going through it quite fast today because he has the hospital tomorrow and i immediately felt even worse about putting them through this every night and the altercation we had earlier today. i know he’s going through so much and i wish i could be a better kid so badly. i wish i was better at expressing how i feel so they don’t mistaken me for being frustrated at them all the time. i love them so much. i know he was probably just pushy this morning because he’s stressed and he’s trying to show me he cares.

i then came down to say goodnight to boris first thing because ive once again had a headache all day supposedly cuz of my eating and i was falling asleep. its a little awkward to cuddle him when his new favourite spot is on the windowsill as there’s tons of stuff in the way, but i still managed to do what i needed to do. i went to sleep early at 1:40 after boris came into my room and i listened to some of slipknots’ the gray chapter. im going to embarrass myself and say i technically went over my cals today because i didn’t go on a walk.

have a good day/night -_<

[badaziraphaletakes]

It’s not necessarily a fully bad Aziraphale take but I feel like the ‘other who can’t admit their queer’ is pointed at him

Thanks for the submission @gretinternetllama

Well, they ain't talking about Crowley 💀 LMAO

This is the most privileged, out-of-touch Aziracrow take I have ever seen. If you think the most painful queer trope is “one of them’s scared to admit they’re queer”, then fuck you and the horse you rode in on.

The most painful queer “trope”, BY DEFINITION, is “one or both of them will be violently killed if they openly acknowledge their love”. Like Aziracrow. Like Castiel. (The tragedy of that isn’t that Dean didn’t love him that way. It’s that Castiel DIED for saying he loved him, lmao. It is so insulting to Castiel to suggest that the worst thing that happened to him is not having Dean’s love.) Like the overwhelming majority of queer people throughout human history. Because THAT IS THE DEFINITIVE TRAGEDY OF THE ENTIRE QUEER EXPERIENCE.

Fuck anyone who thinks that not being willing to openly acknowledge your love for your partner because you know it can never go anywhere BECAUSE YOU’LL BOTH BE KILLED FOR IT is internalized homophobia. (I can hear the gays in Russia laughing rn.)

Having said that, though, let’s take a look at the way OP analyzes “internalized homophobia”, because there is PLENTY to be concerned about there as well.

The “can’t *even* ‘bring themselves’ to admit they’re queer” is DISGUSTING. Fuck this person’s judgmental tone. God, the more I read this the angrier I get. (If they’d written a post saying “I feel so bad that Aziraphale is losing his chance at a relationship with Crowley because of his internalized homophobia; that must be so hard”, that would be one thing. They’d still be dead wrong, lol, but at least this take wouldn’t be bigoted crap. But that’s not, remotely, what they said. There is no sympathy or understanding on offer for Aziraphale whatsoever.) NO ONE has the right to judge someone for not being ready to accept that they’re queer. It is NEVER their fault. It is ALWAYS the fault of the disgusting homophobia and queer phobia of our society at large.

And also fuck anyone who judges someone for rejecting another person’s romantic advances. It’s literally never any of our business why they do that. (This is giving me flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom. And that is NOT A GOOD THING, lmao.) Romantic rejection, even for a depressing reason like this, is not the tragedy people seem to think. No one needs to be with any one particular person in order to be happy. This whole thing is giving “oh, the poor person whose love interest won’t date them”.

Move on and find someone who will date you. Plenty more fish in the sea.

I'd say it's actually a lot more tragic for the closeted person, who has probably missed out on a lot of other relationships for the same reason and is hurting very deeply. But again, does OP have any compassion to spare for the characters they've labeled as closeted? Nah.

(Side note: If you can’t bear to date someone who’s in the closet, DON’T DATE THEM! It’s that simple. And for the love of GOD don’t pressure them to come out or blame them for not being willing to do so.)

Also. This whole thing is giving faint vibes of the putting-your-hands-over-your-ears, “la-la-la-if-I-ignore-your-problems-they’ll-just-go-away”, “if you come out, everything will be fine and everyone will magically accept you” trope, which is offensive, harmful, privileged, dangerous bullshit. Love does not always conquer all. Love does not always make everything magically okay.

(When it comes to Aziracrow in particular, it is also VERY MUCH reminiscent of the belief that once victims leave their ab*sers, their ab*sers will leave them alone, which is the POLAR OPPOSITE of what actually happens in those situations.)

The most ridiculous part out of all of this, though, has got to be mentioning Johnlock. 🤣🤣🤣 Um, which one of those two is supposed to be flamboyantly queer, exactly? Lol that’s just sad. We have better queer representation now. Come on.

Not to mention, Sherlock and John’s relationship/friendship/situationship/whatever the fuck we were supposed to think that was, was horrendously toxic. Nothing about the way they behave to each other is “loving”. Sherlock is a terrible person (and istg if I hear ONE SINGLE PERSON try to say it’s not his fault because of “mental illness” or some ableist bullshit like that, I will come after you with an axe) and not a suitable partner for anyone unless he does some seeeerious work on himself. Even supposing John is in love with Sherlcok, he has EVERY REASON IN THE WORLD not to want to date him - and it has fuck-all to do with shame (more flashbacks to the 2010’s Phantom of the Opera fandom lol).

Also... I thought we'd all collectively agreed to move on from Sherlock because it's horrendously anti-Autistic and queerbaity and Cummerbund Bumpersnatch is a vile ableist stain upon the face of humanity whose name I will not utter? Did I miss something lol?

To the next person to demean Good Omens and the precious, beautiful relationship between Aziracrow by lumping it in with crap like 'Sherlock' - we meet at the dueling grounds at dawn.

One final thing to add: Crowley doesn’t want to “scream their love from the rooftops”????? Because he also knows they’ll be killed or worse if they do that??? Canon Crowley is a FAR better person and a far more loving partner than willfully oblivious, damn-the-torpedos fanon Crowley. I wouldn't like this show if Crowley "wanted to scream their love from the rooftops".

There’s a LOT more that should probably be said about this, but my thumbs are tired and my heart is tireder still.

[cagesofgold]

connie springer headcanons <3

🎵 ivy-frank ocean 🎧

- Connie once a month takes his little sister, Sunny, out on pretend dates to ensure that she knows she should be treated to a good meal and flowers at the door. Connie won’t be letting any little punk date his bundle of joy.

- is actually a decent cook, surprising i know, but he spent a lot of his childhood watching his mother’s careful hands as she crafted various meals, and managed to pick up a lot of things.

- he loves to drive, blasting music, a hand on your thigh and his fav sunnies on, what is there not to like?

- let’s you dye his hair all types of fun colors or some design you saw off of Pinterest. He has good style but he doesn’t take himself serious and doesn’t mind if he has to walk around for two months with smiley faces all over his head. In fact, he loves it. He even let Sunny and Martin draw all over his head like a canvas with hair dye pens, he had unicorns and ninjas embedded in his hair for weeeeeeks.

- his number one priority within dating you, apart from you of course, was to ensure your family liked him. He is extremely family orientated and is most happy when he is surrounded by loved ones. Your family absolutely adored his hilarious self and from there forth he was best friends with your parents.

- wants kids when he’s older, and would be the best girl dad.

- loves movies. He isn’t a guy who would sit and explain the plot of the godfather to you for hours on end but he does insist on decorating your shared apartment with various movie posters. His favorite is “Stand by me”

- would be absolutely heartbroken if you ever watched an episode of a show you were watching together without him. Like genuinely wouldn’t speak to you for a good hour.

-this mf is clingyyyyy, he needs you at all times and has never had the urge to utter the words “i need a little space”, you’re an extension of his personal space, let him stuff his face into your neck in peace.

-loves showering with you, not even in an inherently sexual way, he just adores how intimate it is and the feeling of you gracing his scalp with your nails.

-definitely has tats. In high school he and Jean purchased a tattoo gun and would tattoo people behind the bleachers, but for practice they’d use Connie’s body. Like i said, this mf does NOT take himself seriously and doesn’t care if he has a cartoon dick n balls on his thigh when he’s 80 and sagging.

-is slightly frightened of balloons but pretends he isn’t.

-has two piercings on his ears, his lobes and cartilage.

-absolutely LOVED the barbie movie and was kitted out in full pink. Took you and Sunny to the cinema the night it came out and also paid for dinner after.

- he also took Sunny to a store to pick out a barbie doll.

-english smart, failed every math test he ever took. He still can’t add a fraction…(neither can i)

-loves to press kisses to the side of your face, arms wrapped around your waist and his chest at your shoulder blades.

-will eat cereal at any point, whether it’s morning or not. Would eat it for all three meals.

-despite the fact he can cook and seems to be well adjusted he is unable to survive on his own from the sheer lack of common sense…

-cartwheels when he’s drunk. (and when he’s sober to be honest)

-LOVESSSSS THE CLUB

-doesn’t really get jealous over you, he trusts you and thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, why wouldn’t someone hit on you?

he will however get pouty if he’s literally RIGHT there and the person still hits on you.

-would kill every plant you brought in the house, listen, it’s not his fault he’s got 80 million different thoughts bouncing around his head at all times.

-is more of a dog guy but he wouldn’t argue if you were to get a cat, he loves them too.

-sings everywhere he goes, under his breath waiting in line, in the car, as he cleans, cooks, showers, he never stops, it’s like a continuous string of songs escaping his lips at all times.

-but overall, he’s the best boy friend you could ever have, and he’s already decided he’s spending the rest of his life with you. <3

[nekropsii]

I’m curious which M/M alpha troll ships you’d put in the case study tier - who is in the Petri dish?

These aren’t ships to me, just dynamics I think are interesting for narrative reasons, but… Putting this under the cut since it's a little long. I got into some detail.

Content Warning: Long, Discussions of Abuse.

These are the top three things that come to mind on the subject. They're in no particular order, though!!

Cronus and Kankri’s… I can’t earnestly call this a friendship, that implies some kind of mutual genuine attachment, trust, and respect. This is more of an… Alliance, if anything. Their relationship is solely grounded in Kankri’s bootlicking, hemoloyalist pick-me horseshit, and Cronus gravitating to anything that can give his pathetic, sad, over-inflated ego a boost, whether it be through him tearing them down for no reason or, in Kankri’s case, enabling him for no reason. It’s worth pointing out that Kankri was outright against Cronus taking any steps towards any self improvement, so Kankri is absolutely partially at fault for Cronus being as brazen about his abuse and manipulation of others as he is. Kankri is at fault for Cronus’s manipulation tactic of adopting random minority identities, and faking suicide for pity points. We literally see Kankri backing Cronus up about these things. They are in the worst cahoots I’ve ever seen. Hitting people who “ship” them with a rock because none of them have ever read anything in their lives and it’s honest to god one of the most consistently, disgustingly out of character things I’ve ever seen. Zero understanding of the source material. Kankri’s always made into a Catholic Whore, Cronus is always wildly defanged and woobified. Completely unrecognizable. Jail.

Rufioh and Horuss’s… Already failed relationship. This thing started as a tryst while Rufioh was dating Damara before the game even fucking happened, so this thing has been going on FOREVER. Rufioh had been cheating on that poor girl for YEARS before she finally snapped, and Rufioh has the fucking audacity to call her crazy and paranoid?! I’m sending him to The Hague. Anyway, Horuss has that Zahhakian quirk of being very violently stuck in his ways as far as the caste system goes, and it’s interesting watching how smitten he is with Rufioh despite this (and, I’d argue, because of this, to an extent,) and how not into it Rufioh is. It’s interesting watching how Horuss clearly knows what Rufioh is getting at, he knows that Rufioh is trying to break up with him, he’s just incapable of letting go. And Rufioh is incapable of growing a fucking spine and communicating with people normally, instead of just immediately giving up and then turning around and talking major shit about people he presumably cares about behind their backs. As if that’s a normal thing to do. Asshole.

Cronus and Mituna’s… This isn’t a friendship, this isn’t a relationship, for the love of fucking god this is NOT a Kismesissitude, this is just undeniable extreme abuse we see on screen, constantly. Above everything else, if you ship this, I’m going to kill you with hammers and then shoot you with a gun. The thing is, though, you cannot separate these characters from each other’s writing. You cannot write a Mituna that has never been abused by Cronus and a Cronus that has never abused Mituna, because that dynamic there is so important to both setting up and understanding these characters as both characters and as people that they’d be completely unrecognizable without that element. You need to understand that you can make this shit become symbolic. Mituna is Cassandra. Cronus is both Apollo and Ajax the Lesser. Please understand the vision. It’s right there. It’s so easy.

[nhasablogg]

Jealous

Fandom: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Characters: Ari/Dante

Summary: Ari tells Dante of a time he felt jealous.

A/N: Something short because I finally watched the movie and I missed them.

Words: 847

“I’ve never felt jealous before,” Ari said one day, the rain splattering against the windshield, different from the summer rain. He wasn’t used to spending autumn with Dante. Had only really seen his face during the summer. His face was paler when the sun wasn’t as strong, although autumns in El Paso were much different from autumns in Chicago, Dante had told him. The rain was merciful in the way it didn’t chill you to your core.

Dante took a sip of his beer, urging him to continue with his silence. Ari hadn’t meant to bring it up, but the booze was making him impulsive. “I think the word you’re looking for is relaxed,” Dante had once said with a laugh. And he was probably right. He wasn’t supposed to overthink every thought he had. Sometimes he just had to speak.

“I’ve never felt jealous before,” he repeated, turning his head toward the desert. “Until I saw you with Daniel.”

Dante didn’t say anything and Ari didn’t dare look at him. “I know it was my fault you were with him to begin with,” he continued, finding now that he’d started speaking he couldn’t stop. “I know I had no right to those feelings at the time. And I know in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter now.” He exhaled slowly, tightening his grip of his beer so that the can crackled. “And I know your, uh, interactions with him led to you being beat up. I’m sorry, it’s probably really stupid to think about it all and feel jealous.”

“Ari.” A finger on his jaw, forcing him to turn. Dante was smiling, always smiling, although there was something sad in his eyes too. “It’s okay. Feelings are supposed to be complicated.”

Ari had spent too many nights imagining Dante kissing Daniel, grinding up to him in an alleyway, back pressed to a wall. He’d imagined a different version of that too, before he’d found out what had happened. How replaceable he’d felt. How fucking stupid for causing that to happen.

“Ari.” Dante dragged out the word now, almost sang it. “Come back to me. Stop thinking about it.”

Ari shook his head. “Sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize.”

“I knew I was lying in the car, when I told you kissing you didn’t work for me.” He grabbed Dante’s hand, brought it to his lips. “Maybe I didn’t fully understand it then, but seeing Daniel’s car in your driveway made me certain. And I got so angry because I didn’t know what to do. How to fix it.”

Dante hummed, extending one finger to caress Ari’s lips. “For what it’s worth, being with Daniel felt- wrong. I mean, it was fun to a certain extent. To experiment properly. But he wasn’t you, and I knew my heart wasn’t fully in it.” He pressed his other hand to Ari’s forehead. “You’re frowning.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you jealous still?”

“The idea of it isn’t very fun to imagine, that’s all.” He shook his head. “I know it’s stupid. I’m literally holding your hand.”

Dante laughed. “You’re cute when you’re jealous. I’m glad you told me.”

“Mm, you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Can you blame me?” Dante moved closer, all laughter lines. “You were jealous.”

Ari shoved his face away. “Oh, you better watch it, Dante Quintana.”

“Before what?” Dante’s smile had turned smug.

“I have my ways of taking you down a notch.”

“Is that so?” Dante leaned closer again, their faces mere inches apart. “Prove it then.”

“You sure you want that?”

“I want to see what you do, mostly.”

Ari could understand why he didn’t expect him to do it. Dante was still the more physical one, the more playful one. He’d probably forgotten that Ari knew about it, but it didn’t take long for him to catch on. A grab of his side. A squeeze, and another one. Not stopping even when Dante tried to move away. Laughter. Beautiful laughter reserved just for him.

“No, wait!” he cried, the car suddenly smaller. Ari was grateful they’d not brought Legs this time, as it gave Dante free reign to squirm and Ari just as much to follow. “This isn’t fahahair!” “I told you I have my ways,” Ari said with a laugh.

“Yeah, but tickling’s cheating!”

“How is it cheating?” Dante twisted and Ari went for his ribs, relishing in the way he tried to curl up and couldn’t fully. “I don’t remember us making rules.”

Dante changed tactics and leaned forward again, as if Ari couldn’t just go for the back of his ribs as he pressed his face into Ari’s chest, giggling still.

“You’re so cute,” he said. It had slipped out, but he didn’t regret it. Especially not when Dante groaned into his shirt, a telltale sign of him being embarrassed. Maybe Ari should speak more. It certainly had only done him good thus far.

As he pulled Dante closer, still poking at his skin, he had the thought that Daniel never had this. It was all Ari and Dante’s.

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 2.2 - Happenstance

[POV: WILLIAM]

"You can't cast Disintegrate on an entire universe," William grumbles. 

"Of course I can," Vlad scoffs, "I literally just did it."

“No,” William glares, “You didn't. You'd need a magical item. Specifically, the Owl of Undoing and Christopher already said you can't have it." 

Vlad raises his brows, and William understands the look: Why are you defending him? Christopher plays a paladin. You don’t even like him; you’ve been cheating on him for months. 

Or maybe that’s just the guilt talking.

"I know what he said,” Vlad takes a swig of his barley bale. “That's why I pickpocketed him three sessions ago. Check your notes. I think you’ll find you already made the decision when you let me roll for it."

Asshole. Yes, William complains about Christopher. Yes, he feels trapped. But Lairs and Llamas wasn’t the place to sort that out. "Fine," he snaps, crumbling up a page of his notes. "You do it. Your enemies turn to dust, and everything resets to a single, non-magical universe."

"That doesn’t make sense,” Candy purses her lips. "How can we be sure the world has no magic? I mean, isn't that a little like saying there are no aliens? It doesn't make sense. There probably are aliens and magic, too. We just haven't discovered them yet."

Vlad grins. “Yes, William, isn’t it possible that there are more magical fish in the sea?”

William does not dignify this with an answer. Unlike Vlad’s family of loud, co-dependent lunatics, the Reddings operate via refined passive-aggressive avoidance and socially acceptable threats.   

Christopher scoops up the dice and flings it onto the map. It skips and rolls to a stop on the worst possible number. "Natural 20!" he exclaims. "I look for a portal that takes me and my fellow paladins back in time to undo Vladislaus's spell."

"Some things can’t be undone," Vlad chuckles. “Why waste your time?”

"Because you’re wrong," Christopher insists, his gaze sharp, "Natural 20 means I automatically succeed."

“Technically—” Gunther begins.

“Nope,” William holds up a hand. Gunther joined their table after Vlad sent their last player running through the quad in tears. He was exhausting, and they’d had enough of his But the Rules speeches to last a lifetime. “Not technically. We are not doing that tonight.”

“So I succeed?” The hopefulness in Christopher’s voice makes William shift uncomfortably.

But Vlad just laughs and hums a little tune. “Oh, do tell, William. How does the natural 20 work out? Can Christopher go back in time and undo all the damage?” 

William grinds his jaw. “No. There is no such thing as magic, which means even with a natural 20, Christopher’s move doesn’t work.”

Christopher slumps in his seat. 

“So the campaign is over?” Candy asks. 

“Y-yes,” William croaks and then clears his throat. “I just want to know how your characters start their new lives while we wrap up."

"I start a conspiracy theory newspaper about aliens and magic,” Candy smirks.

“Hmmm,” Gunther rubs his chin. “I think my barbarian queen becomes a personal trainer. And then she meets this cool, casual academic with black-framed glasses who—”

“That’s enough,” William interrupts. “Christopher? Are we—er—you alright?” He swallows hard, his resolve weakening. Why is he trying so hard to protect the feelings of someone he doesn’t care about? “The end can be a fresh start. It doesn’t even have to be an end,” he finishes, ignoring Vlad’s dark look. 

Christopher surges to his feet. "Honestly, fuck you, Straud. You ruined this for all of us! Especially for Will, who planned it."

William hates being called Will. He's told his boyfriend this a thousand times. But the guilt over being defended when it's obvious Christopher has no idea what’s going on keeps him from pointing it out. "Sit down, love. You don't want to do this." 

"No, I do. I want Vladislaus to know he's fucked up and selfish!"

"He knows,” William deadpans.

"Yes," Vlad agrees, "I'm quite aware of my faults. Now," he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table to prop up his chin. "Are you defending William because you're fucking him or because you're hoping this might excite him enough to tell you he loves you?"

It's the wrong thing to say. Or maybe it’s the right thing, considering that Vladislaus thrives off of chaos. Christopher charges around the table, dragging him out of his seat. 

“Is this what you want?” he shouts.

Yes. 

No.

No. Christopher doesn’t know what’s at stake, and William doesn’t need a white knight. He needs his boyfriend to have enough common sense to know when he's being goaded. “Don’t!” he shouts. 

But he’s too slow.

Christopher cocks back his fist and punches Vlad straight in the mouth.

(Love this Lairs and Llamas set by @valhallansim! Also, my IRL dnd group is really just a spy v. spy situation where we mostly plot against each other and then sometimes band together to fight a dragon we name after bad ex-boyfriends)

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[cebwrites]

handling an overly emotional partner (Law, Zoro, Bepo)

a/n: when i tell you i literally stopped mid-drawing to write this bc i didn’t want to lose the inspiration-- i’ve been fielding some shark week nonsense lately so i figured the best remedy would be some comfort fluff from my favorite boys, enjoyyyy 〒▽〒 

masc reader, he/they law word count: 1.5k

Law

They are in NO way prepared to handle any of... this

Depending on what stage of life he’s in (especially when they were younger), Law might outright call the whole thing off - but typically they’d just hand you to Pen or Shach and go hide/ruminate in his room

It’s definitely something to get used to - but something worth doing if he’s already created a bond worth keeping with you

Realistically, Law would know; it’s not like you’d spring into a blubbering mess out of nowhere the moment you two started dating and it’s unlike them to just go on a date with a stranger on a whim 

So he’d at least be aware of your emotional turbulence, and knowing that, would still fall in love with your little idiosyncrasies and personal charms - doesn’t make any of this that much easier though

Expect awkwardness, rigidity, your captain fighting the urge to flee like a skittish leopard cub, but above all please know that Law’s trying their best that they love you because by god they wouldn’t be doing this for anyone else

It’s important to note that they’d never make fun of you for this, even as a light hearted “joke” - you’re a sensitive guy, more than most, and that’s just how it is - nothing else to say about it

As they mature into adulthood and your relationship with him becomes far more comfortable Law drops the unease, they’re a lot less clumsy with your emotions and learn to navigate them with care because that is what they feel in their heart of hearts for you, after all

Something got too scary during movie night? Cuddle up close dear, he’ll hold you through the rough bits and kiss your forehead until it’s over or accompany you in your room if it’s more than you can handle

Breaking a glass? It wasn’t your fault and it’s not the end of the world, accidents happen and even though Law isn’t keen on the idea of you getting cut on those shards, they do find the odd bits of clumsiness here and there to be endearing - c’mon, he’ll help you pick up the pieces

You saw a baby animal or even Bepo doing something too cute and you absolutely can’t help yourself from tearing up? Well, that’s... oh come here already, you can weep into their shoulder but just don’t get snot on him, alright?

Zoro

Zoro is and can be a lot of things - pigheaded and woefully directionless at the worst and best of times

But he’s not stupid, at least not when it matters

He’s blunt and tactless, definitely, but Zoro’s somehow just had an inkling for sniffing out people’s inner feelings much like his captain

Not immediately, no, it does take some time; but once he feels that there’s something amiss, he comes right out with it

Zoro would get the feeling you were hiding something - your vulnerability, that was never really a secret when you joined the crew but as you took a growing interest in and once you were with him tried to diminish because you were afraid he’d think less of you for it - and after a day or two he’d ask

You’d try to divert from the topic, weasel your way out of talking about this before your tear ducts betrayed you, but soon your face would bear streaks and now Zoro really needed to know what was going on

He’d wait patiently as you explained yourself, bearing no judgement or even mild annoyance the more coherent your words became as you calmed down, furiously wiping your eyes and still avoiding his gaze, though

After you finished, he’d hold your shoulders gently, trailing his fingers up your arms in a wordless show of asking for the permission that you grant him easily, always

Zoro would be a little irked deep down, that this was the kind of man your (unconscious) mind thought him as, the kind of person that would turn his partner away just from a show of human emotion and some saltwater 

For all his shows of machismo and overt masculinity, Zoro would never. Ever, question your manhood for crying. Sadness, joy, fear, and anger are all your feelings and you have full right to feel them. So what if your feelings move you intensely enough to tease? 

Is it not masculine in and of itself to know one’s own heart and express it however he please? It’s more than most men he’s seen and Zoro’s more than happy to cut down anyone who has a problem with that.

Bepo

Two peas in a pod, you and Bepo, none on the ship are more alike than their resident youngest sweethearts

You’d both cry over anything and everything if possible - it goes without saying that Bepo would never judge you for being emotional either, and even on the very unlikely change that the sweetest, kindest bear you knew did harbor those feelings for what ever reason, well... glass houses and all

Cuddles are abundant between you, at first it’s to comfort after a lousy day, then it’s over crummy interactions, and eventually you just want an excuse to hold each other

You tear up at someone raising their voice at you but strangely feel an immediate heat in your chest when someone does the same or is just plain mean to Bepo, your soft-spoken, loving (not so) little Bepo

You try and stand up for him only to shrink and cling to your boyfriend when the offending party turns to glare at you so Pen, Shach, and/or Ikkaku have to step in, but the sentiment is greatly appreciated nonetheless

Bepo would simultaneously praise you for your bravery and downplay the need for protecting him, he is a big strong bear after all, and you’d tut - patting his nose to watch it scrunch up as you tell him that those people had no right to be talking that cruelly to him, so of course you have to defend your darling boyfriend

Bepo would blush and try to hide his big ol’ snout in the crook of your neck, rolling you both over onto the bed and sparking a fit of laughter in the process until your captain thwacks the wall dividing your room and their office with the end of a broom handle in a clear gesture to keep it down

Bepo won’t admit it, but he secretly finds you super cool when you defend him like that and it makes his heart do jumping jacks knowing you care for him like this; not that he doesn’t think you love him otherwise or won’t tell his boyfriend that he’s super cool for other reasons, it’s just this specific one

And Bepo gets his moment to shine one day when you’re on a walk with him one night, stars shining bright on this sleepy little town - a stray pup runs up to you and you can’t help but sob when the poor thing eats the food you buy it out of your palm, Bepo crouching alongside you but seemingly more frightened of the brave little puppy than it is of him because he doesn’t want to scare it away

While you smile and assure him that your new canine friend wasn’t going anywhere (no way Law was going to let a dog into the Tang, though), an older man stumbles out of the local tavern hurling insults about crybabies among other things as he staggers towards you

Before he can get within a meter of you, however, Bepo stands back and bellows the loudest roar you’ve ever heard come out of him, let alone sound

Although the two of you have to book it once the rest of the neighborhood wakes up with their pistols thinking it’s another snow beast attack, you’re laughing the entire way back to the ship and once Bepo stops covering his face in embarrassment, you’ll replace those lovely paws with your kisses

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Every Step of the Way

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Actor, Elvis 2022, Elvis Movie

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Original Male Character, Baby Presley, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Dodger Presley

Word Count: 3227 // Rating: Mature

Summary: Elvis isn’t going anywhere.

Tags/ Warnings: Pre Martial Sex, Pregnancy, Established Relationship, Religion, Kissing, Hugs, Betrayal, Family Arguments, Abandonment, Arguing, Violence, Punches, Pregnancy,Mentions of Sex, Request, Requested Fic, Love, Babies, Marriage, Births, Angst, Fluff, Set Early Days Elvis, 

Notes: im up watching the oscars so i might as well do some writing about our boy huh?

Elvis Tags: @caitlin1996​ @literally-just-elvis-fics​

Request @elvispresleyisfit12 - Erm could it be like a fic were readers older brother best friend is elvis and him n yn have like a secret romance she ends up pregnant (elvis knows she’s pregnant btw ) reader n elvis sit brother n parents n tell them snout yn the brother is angry the end yn is giving birth

‘I can’t do it,’ I said looking at myself in the mirror. My eyes dropped to the slight curve of my stomach, the reason for the dread inside me. Elvis moved in behind me, kissing my cheek tenderly as his hands snaked around my waist and rested on my stomach. ‘You can,’ he said, his blue eyes locking on mine in the reflection, ‘I’m right here. Every step.’ ‘What if they hate me?’ I said, thinking of my parents sitting a room away none the wiser. ‘It won't come to that,’ he said nuzzling into my face though it didn’t nothing to reassure me.

Elvis and I hadn't been together long but I had known him for a while. I had adored him from the first moment I had laid eyes on him but he was forbidden fruit. My brother’s best friend. They had met at work though neither of them had much interest in spending the rest of their days in a factory. My brother longed to be a guitar player but didn't want to sing and meeting Elvis meant he finally had someone to play with. They hung out all the time and though he was nice I never anticipated he would like me. Then his visits got more frequent. He even started showing up when my brother was out, choosing to wait around with me until he got home. The day he kissed me I thought I was going to die from happiness.

But we knew it was complicated. My parents didn't want me dating until I had finished school which I was due to do in a couple of months and my brother would freak out if he knew we were together. So we kept it a secret. Stolen kisses, longing glances and lingering touches. It had been so perfect. A cocoon of love and adoration. One that had been cruelly ripped open the morning I awoke feeling nauseous and sore. I had gone to him with my ludicrous fears hoping he would tell me I had nothing to worry about but his baby blue eyes betrayed him. He was happy about it though, happier than I was at least, and he assured me that no matter what he was going to be by my side. He’d even gone out the same night and bought a ring. It wasn't huge or expensive but I cherished it all the same, even if I did have to hide it in my nightstand so my parents wouldn't see.

Elvis had been open to keeping it a secret for as long as we could because he knew I was scared. My parents were southern Baptists and strongly against sex before marriage. Elvis was too but we’d been too overcome with love to stop ourselves. Now I worried how they’d react. I worried they’d blame him when it wasn’t his fault, not really. But time was running out. My mother had commented on how I had put on weight and without a second thought I had run to the bathroom to assess myself. As I stripped myself bare I could see it. My soft flesh was now outlined with definition, a slight bump protruding in front of my eyes that I couldn't stop. The same bump that Elvis now had his hand on, his thumb moving back and forth gently across it.

‘Baby we have to tell them sometime,’ he said. ‘I know,’ I said morosely as I turned to look up at him, my arms wrapping around my neck as his hands moved to my waist. He leaned down to kiss me gently, pulling back with a soft smile that should’ve made the lead-lined feeling in my gut go away though it failed to. ‘Every step,’ he said. I nodded and sighed. ‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ I said as we headed to the door and out into the hallway.

My brother and father were at the table, chatting about football when we got to the dining room and my mother was just coming in with pots that billowed a waft of aroma into my nostrils that made me nauseous. I felt him stand close behind me, his hand on the small of my back where my family couldn't see.

‘You’re staying for dinner right Elvis?’ my mother asked as she sat down gesturing for us to sit. Elvis nodded and took a seat at the table and I followed trying to fight my itching feet that longed to run out of the house and never look back. ‘Yes Ma’am. Thanks for having me,’ Elvis said politely. Even in the most anxiety-ridden situations that boy still oozed southern charm. ‘It’s our pleasure, in fact, why don't you say grace?’ my mother said. As my father and brother offered their hands out dutifully Elvis looked at me and offered his hand. I slipped mine into his large one only to find it drenched in sweat. He was as nervous as I was and yet he had held himself together not showing a flicker of worry so as not to panic me. The swell of fear inside me turned to one of love and before he could start speaking I did.

‘Actually, before we have dinner there’s something I wanna say,’ I said. Confused glances flicked around the room but no one spoke encouraging me to start talking. My bravado waned a little until I locked eyes with Elvis who was watching me with an encouraging smile on his face. ‘What is it sweetheart?’ my father said. ‘Um, I need to tell you something. All of you. And I don't know how to say it but I hope you’ll be okay with it because I am. We are,’ I said looking at Elvis and gripping his hand tighter. Everyone else had dropped hands by now so our interlinked hands were enough to garner attention. ‘Elvis and I are together…have been for a while,’ I said daring to look at my father who seemed to be digesting everything before he spoke, ‘and I know you didn't want me dating but we’re happy. Really happy and I know you love him just as much as I do so I want you to be happy for us.’

Silence fell for a moment before my father beamed a smile and clapped Elvis on the shoulder breaking the uneasy feeling that had been bubbling inside us both. One hurdle down, one to go.

‘Well of course we are,’ he said. ‘Really?’ I asked allowing hope to fill me. ‘Of course, I mean you’re right we didn't want you dating just yet but Elvis is a good guy it could be worse!’ he laughed. Elvis laughed too though it was a tad nervous not that my father seemed to notice as he continued.  ‘Hell for a moment I thought you were going to say you were pregnant!’ he joked though it fell into thick tension almost immediately. I watched as the realisation dawned on my father’s ageing face and recoiled as it turned to one of anger. He didn’t have time to react though as across the table, a voice piped up capturing my attention. Scotty. My brother.

‘You knocked her up?’ he asked. His gaze was not on me but on Elvis, a venomous expression on his face. ‘Scotty-’ Elvis said though my mother spoke over him. ‘Is it true?’ my mother asked. ‘Mama it was an accident,’ I said trying to explain but my attention was diverted as Scotty spoke. ‘Any girl. You can have any girl in this god-forsaken town and you pick my sister. My baby sister,’ Scotty said in disbelief. ‘Scotty man it wasn’t like that,’ Elvis protested as my brother got up and started to pace. ‘Scotty I know you're upset but we can talk about this properly. Just sit down,’ I said but he continued to pace. ‘I told you she was off limits. She’s just a kid for fuck’s sake,’ Scotty said. He stopped and looked at me, gripping the back of the chair in front of him so hard his knuckles were white as he said, ‘he force ya? Did he make you do something you didn't wanna do?’ ‘No of course not!’ I said but Scotty still didn't let up. ‘You force her? Cos I know my sister she ain't no whore,’ he said. ‘I didn't force her to do anything!’ Elvis said, ‘I love her and she loves me. And it might not be proper but we can't change it.’ ‘Love her,’ Scotty scoffed, ‘you’re in love every five minutes! And where’s she gonna be then huh? Who’s gonna pick up the pieces?’ ‘No one’s gonna need to do anything because I ain't going anywhere. I love her and we’re gonna get married,’ Elvis said standing up to match Scotty. I stood too gripping Elvis’ sleeve and trying to pull him back. ‘Baby, sit down,’ I said nervously. They were swaying into dangerous territory and I feared what might happen if I didn't de-escalate them. My parents continued to look on in stunned silence.

‘Baby,’ Scotty scoffed. ‘Don't take it out on her man,’ Elvis said, ‘it’s me you’re angry at.’ ‘Why not. I mean she was the one sneaking behind my back too. Did the two of you have a nice laugh about it? Stupid Scotty not noticing the pair of you sneaking about,’ Scotty sneered. ‘Well maybe if you took a minute to stop chasing anything in a skirt you would’ve noticed,’ Elvis said sternly and before I could stop anything Scotty had launched himself across the table, taking Elvis to the ground.

‘Stop it!’ I screamed as I watched my brother’s fist connect with Elvis’ face, a crunch of bone echoing in my ears as I rushed forward trying to pry him off of him. Fists and limbs flew and I had to dodge my way around them as I tried to prize brother off of him. Scotty didn't let up and though Elvis managed to get a shot or two off he was stuck on the floor, taking punch after punch. As blood poured from his nose and mouth I shrieked for Scotty to stop until I couldn't hold myself back any longer and dove forward immediately feeling an elbow connect with my cheek sending me back onto my ass.

Silence fell.

Elvis appeared at my side in an instant, assessing the damage as he hit me with a barrage of questions trying to make sure I was okay. I nodded though the pain in my cheek was blinding and I could feel tears watering down on half of my face.

‘Scotty,’ I said climbing up onto my feet ignoring Elvis’ continued worries as I watched my brother pull himself up. He looked at me with a sneer before he left the room. As I tried to leave Elvis wrapped his arms around me holding me in place as he watched me, concern in his big blue eyes. ‘You’ve gotta stop him. Go and talk to him please,’ I sobbed as Elvis looked at me sympathetically though he didn't move to help. I looked past him to where my father was standing watching us both with a grave expression. ‘Daddy please go and get him. I can explain I just need-’ I started to beg, hoping that someone would fulfil my please but my request was cut short by one sentence.

‘Get out,’ he said simply. The lead-lined feeling returned as I watched him and tried to process what was happening. ‘Daddy,’ I said. ‘Get out,’ he repeated. ‘But-’ ‘Both of you. I don't want you here,’ he said, shattering my heart into pieces. ‘Daddy, please. You don't mean that. We can talk about this,’ I said rushing forward. Elvis let me go but kept my hand gripped in his, tethering me to him. ‘Don't I?’ he scoffed. ‘Daddy, please. I know you’re angry and I know it’s not the best situation but I’m still me. I’m still you’re little girl,’ I said with a sniff as I placed my hand on his only for him to yank it away. ‘My little girl wouldn't have done this,’ he said. And then he left the room, my mother following silently behind him. Elvis embraced me from behind, wrapping his arms around me as I collapsed to the floor in a flood of tears.

✵✵✵

‘She’s so little,’ I said looking down at my newborn daughter with adoration. She was finally here, bundled up in my arms and sleeping quietly entirely unaware of the ordeal she had put me through for the past twelve hours. ‘She’s perfect,’ Elvis said his finger sweeping down her plump cheek as he sat beside me on the bed, his arm wrapped around us both. ‘Yeah even if she did keep me waiting,’ I chuckled, as he moved his hand to put his finger in her little fist where she gripped it tightly, a slight smile on her face. ‘She was worth it,’ he said kissing my temple. ‘Agreed,’ I murmured looking up at him. He was watching us both with love and adoration and I could feel tears prick in my eyes. I couldn't believe how much I loved him. He had been my rock. Since my parents had kicked me out our relationship had been catapulted into fast forward. His parents and his grandmother had been amazing allowing me to move in and sorting everything out for us and the baby. We’d even managed to get a lovely, intimate if not small wedding together before everyone found out I was pregnant. I couldn't have asked for a better husband or father for my baby girl.

‘Thank you.’ I said after a moment. ‘Thank you? What are you thanking me for you’re the one who did all the work,’ he said, ‘you’re a champion.’ ‘Couldn't have done it without you,’ I said. ‘Told you’d I’d be here. Every step remember,’ he said kissing the top of my head. Our moment was disrupted though as his Mama, Daddy and Dodger came in all looking excited to meet their new addition.

‘Where is she?’ Gladys said coming to stand at his side and looked down on my baby girl with the same adoring expression Elvis had. ‘Ain’t she something Mama,’ Elvis said bursting with pride. ‘She’s an angel,’ Gladys cooed, ‘can I hold her?’ ‘Of course,’ I said as they swapped places so I could move the little bundle into her grandmother’s arms. As we manoeuvred into position there was a knock at the door and it opened as a set of balloons came in before the person did. Then appearing from behind it was my brother. He came into the room, looking sheepish when he noticed everyone was inside.

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, ‘I can come back.’ ‘No!’ I said quickly making the baby stir in her sleep, ‘I mean don’t go.’ ‘Yeah stay,’ Elvis said though it was a little terse. Scotty nodded and moved closer, standing by the end of the bed and allowing the balloons to rest at the end of it. ‘Mama, give us a minute,’ Elvis said looking at Gladys who looked down at her granddaughter before looking at her son with a scowl. ‘Fine,’ she said decanting the baby into Elvis’ arms, ‘but five minutes tops! I’m not missing a second of her.’

As they moved out of the room Scotty didn't move closer instead he lingered by the edge of the bed unsure of what to do. My heart ached though I didn't know why. I had my beautiful baby, my husband by my side and a scrap of my family nearby yet I was worried it wasn't going to be enough.

‘How’re you?’ Scotty said at the same time Elvis said, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘Elvis,’ I chastised as he handed the baby to me. ‘What? It’s a fair question,’ he said irately. ‘He’s here,’ I said. ‘And I’ve watched you cry your heart out for the last few months because your family abandoned you. Forgive me if I don't want him ruining our first day with our baby girl,’ Elvis said. I fell silent. He was right. I had spent months crying over the loss of my family. Though I had gained more than I could ever wish for the loss of my parents and Scotty had been too much to bear. ‘He’s right,’ Scotty said, ‘and I’m not here to cause trouble…I just...I messed up. I made it about me and it’s not about me…so when I heard you’d gone into labour I thought better late than never right?’

I glanced at my baby girl who was sleeping soundly in my arms, seemingly unaware of the palpable tension in the air. Then I looked up at Elvis who was watching us both with a frown on his face. I tried my best to express my thoughts to him in one glance. I wanted to say yes but I was in a fog of hormones and upset. I needed a clear head. I needed my rock. The man who had been with me every step of this journey. Elvis seemed to see what I was hinting at and looked up at Scotty with a serious yet sympathetic expression. It softened a little though, cracking a small smile as he said, ‘you wanna meet her?’

Scotty nodded and came to my other side, peering down at his new niece with a smile. ‘She looks just like you,’ he said with a small smile. ‘I think she looks like Elvis,’ I said as I noted her pouty lips and long eyelashes. ‘Nah she’s not that unlucky,’ Scotty said nudging me and smirking at Elvis who rolled his eyes. ‘Could’ve been worse she could look like you,’ Elvis ribbed. ‘True,’ Scotty said. Elvis cleared his throat and kissed the top of my head. ‘I’m gonna go and get Mama and Daddy ‘kay?’ he asked. I nodded and watched as he left the room leaving the three of us behind.

We were quiet for a moment before I looked up at my brother. He smiled weakly making the tears prick my eyes once more. ‘Oh don't cry,’ he said slipping an arm around me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I sniffled, ‘I’m just all full of hormones and emotions.’ ‘I know,’ he said, ‘it’s okay.’ ‘I just…I missed you y’know,’ I said as he perched his bum beside me on the bed, his arm around me. ‘I missed you too,’ he said. Neither of us was looking at each other now both finding it easier to look at the tiny girl in my arms who was now watching us, her ocean-blue eyes large and inquisitive. ‘Are mom and dad?’ I said not managing to finish it as my heart squeezed tighter in my chest. ‘No,’ he said sadly, ‘I tried but-’ ‘It’s fine,’ I lied. ‘It’s not,’ he said, ‘but it’s their loss. I know it wasn't proper or whatever but who cares.’ ‘So you’re not mad about me and Elvis?’ I asked. I couldn't believe how much I felt like a kid again. Even now as a married woman holding my child in my arms, I still felt like that little girl getting caught doing something they shouldn't. ‘He made something as special as her,’ he said stroking the top of my girl's head gently, ‘he can't be all bad.’ ‘I wouldn’t be here without him,’ I said honestly.

[archivalofsins]

Now I bet nobody thought they’d see me discussing Kotoko again- Given the things I said about her ideology. I bet a lot of people think I have nothing positive to say and this is going to be full of I told you so’s.

However, that’s far from the case. So, let’s get started on what has to be the best finale to trial two. What everything has been building up to from the very beginning-

Spoilers, for Deep Cover, Yonah, the streaming heart cover and all things KOTOKO YUZURIHA!

Firstly- Man really giving up soon? Is it really over with just that? It’s hard to think that people even liked her character at all if this is all it takes to have people switch up. I’ve been honest about it from the jump these characters could be the worst people imaginable, and I could still be able to find a way to like them. Calling it game over before the starting bell even chimes it’s kind of weak, isn’t it?

So, what have we learned about Kotoko that we didn’t know before? She’s judgmental of everyone around her including herself. Hardheaded and never considers the idea that what she believes could be wrong. Quick to run with her own assumptions and doesn’t show mercy to anyone regardless of their perceived weaknesses or shortcomings. She’s been the pull yourself up by your bootstraps or get stumped under hers type from the jump.

What exactly has changed here?

That she’s pointing some of that vitriol and hatred in our direction now? That she reiterated the fact that she does not intend to go easy on someone just because they’re young? That her morals weren’t as righteous as people assumed them to be? Well, it’s not Kotoko’s fault everyone conflated the definition of vigilante with hero. Because of what- how they’re commonly portrayed in media?

Vigilantes are consistently shown as people with immense privilege who believe themselves to be above the law for one reason or another. Some do in fact attack children, some do in fact kill people regardless of if they’re weak or strong just because they’re in their way, to some the ends really do justify the means and morals are simply a weakness to be ignored that stops them from meeting those ends.

I don’t know what anyone else here thought a vigilante was but maybe how mainstream comics and superhero culture has become watered down that word for a few.

Yes, Kotoko is still a vigilante if she attacks people that others find to be weak or worth protecting. Because a vigilante is simply someone who believes that they themselves are the law. That only they know what is truly right and have the will to act on it.

Literally anyone can be a vigilante, it doesn’t mean they’re morally just or right. It just means they’ve said that everyone else is inadequate and only they can right the wrongs they see within society regardless of what anyone says or whose job it actually is to do so.

Oh, she’s not a vigilante like Batman from Batman the Animated Series. Yeah, Bruce Wayne literally went to a mountain to train and has a psychiatry degree. Kotoko is on a break from law school. I don’t know what made anyone here conflate Kotoko with the traditional idolized concept of vigilantism but- Unfortunate that whoever did played themselves on that one.

A vigilante has never been and will never be a person that is morally correct.

Bruce Wayne commits crimes and lets others commit them. His no kill rule has led to the deaths of thousands including his own sidekicks and romantic partners. People play by his rules or hit the fucking bricks. He’s not always the good guy or the pinnacle of morality. He’s just a guy with his own morals.

Just because people disliked the individuals she was attacking before does not mean she will only attack people whom we dislike. That’s the point of being a vigilante, you don’t act on other people’s orders, you work under your own discretion.

From the beginning of trial two everyone has told us Kotoko is this way from Jackalope-

To Yuno,

Yuno: Yep! Kotoko, who you forgave, went super violent, and then injured people came rolling in one after the other! Es: You mean Mahiru and Fuuta. That was an incident even I had not expected. Yuno: Really? If you ask me, Kotoko is someone I would never want to make my friend, though. She’s the type who picks a conclusion from the very beginning and won’t actually talk with you.

And what does she do from the beginning of her second voice drama Yonah. Pick a conclusion from the very beginning instead of actually speaking with Es. When Kotoko sees that Es is upset she assumes that they are upset because she wasn’t able to properly punish Mikoto Kayano and Amane Momose. This is after she tells Es that they were late as well.

Throughout her second voice drama based on the translation I’ve seen she makes minute references to some of the second trial interrogations of the prisoners and even their trial songs.

For example,

“In order to stop someone, you have to squeeze their throat without mercy.”

Purge March

“So nary a sound can be uttered a second time, I’ll crush your throat too.”

“You’ll forgive their sins just because they’re close to you? Make their punishments less sever just because you get along with them? What next- Are you going to start giving them leniency based off their looks? Their personality? How long you’ve known them?”

Despite that Kotoko says she’s playing by Milgram’s rules and taking into consideration what Es' superiors want her statements are in direct contradiction to Jackalope’s own desires. Her getting upset with Es for forming attachments and voting based on biases is directly antithetical to the project Jackalope is trying to have and has claimed to want to have from the beginning.

This is especially interesting considering that Kotoko calls Es imperfect but from a conversation from the bonus story that came with the Milgram novel we know for certain that Jackalope considers Es the perfect guard.

So, if Kotoko thinks Es is bad at their job and that they are an imperfect guard her statements are directly in conflict with Jackalope’s our superior and the one running this Milgram/advising us.

A second reference to another interrogation comes up during this statement as well-

“…Hey, Es. Please, listen. I don’t want this either. I’m at my limit. I can’t stand it anymore. If someone died because I bashed them online and you find out about it- Even if I learn my lesson from it that won’t put an end to all this.” Futa… “Listen, I’ll forgive you for what you’ve done too. I’ll accept this pain. SO- please- Forgive me, I’m begging you!” … “It hurt… It hurt so bad, I thought I was going to die. I was scared!” Huh… “The feeling of getting judged by countless people at once is the worst, too… I can’t sleep feeling like the whole world is watching me.” … “I’m tired of everything hurting and being difficult. PLEASE! I’m sorry! ES!!” … Sigh… Futa. It’s not like I hate you guys. “… …!” I’ve been by your side for a long time, and I’ve had a look inside your hearts. Even if you are murderers, you’re no longer just strangers to me. That connection is something that can’t be cut so easily. “R-right-?!” Seeing you hurt like this makes me regret my actions too. Haahh… I’m feeling torn since my judgement my judgment may have made the situation more complicated for you guys. “…!” And also…first and foremost. I’m starting to think of you all as something like comrades. “Es…!” It’s a pity… that I’m…the warden. “Eh?” No matter what kind of suffering you’re going through, that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to evade justice. “…?! That’s…!” Either way I have yet to figure out what the relationship between your current hurt self and the crime that you committed is. “…” Of course I can’t blame you for not having words of apology to say to the person you killed. “…!!” But even if you apologize to me about things that happened in the past- It’s not like I care. “Gwuahh, you’re wrong! YOU’RE WRONG!” Thank you, Futa. I realized that this requires resolve. “…!!!” The warden has to… I have to judge the sins of my comrades without holding back even while they’re weeping right in front of me. Phew- That’s all the interrogation is over.

Like honestly Es came into Kotoko’s interrogation acting real different from how they came into trial two.

Throughout her second trial cd everything given to us restates and further highlights the sort of character Kotoko has always been.

Streaming Heart perfectly following up on the disdain she's shown towards herself and receiving affection that was alluded to with her previous cover Anti Beat.

While her voice drama and song show off just how much she knows about Milgram in subtle ways without just laying it out on the table for all to see.

Heavily alluding to the fact that she’s been looking over things in her own way since the series began. Something that was heavily implied during Mikoto’s first voice drama when she came out of hiding from somewhere to help Es.

So, what does this mean exactly? Kotoko isn’t just being a pain in the ass because that’s her regular state. I mean it is but- She’s heard every prisoner's statement on her since the beginning of trial two. She’s seen every music video, heard every excuse, see how they behave in front of the guard- and did what Yuno told us she did from the drew her own conclusions about them without talking to any of them.

Kotoko also admits she’s been eavesdropping from her first voice drama because when Es asks her how much she knows she says,

Even if it’s true that you saved me, I don’t remember promising to forgive you for that rogue-like behavior.

“Is that so? Then, I’d like to ask- is Milgram purposefully designed that way?” Designed that way…as in letting prisoners do what they want? “You should be the one to know about this. The cells here don’t even have locks.” I…should know? “For example me being suspicious of Mikoto Kayano’s actions, carefully tracking him and his behavior, it’s all under your permission.” In deciding whether to forgive or not… One has to observe human nature… “It’s something like that.”

From the beginning up until now Kotoko has been using Es to get the information she wanted on the other prisoners. Because that’s expressly the deal she made. Something she reiterates in Yonah.

Cooperation is about doing what the other party cannot do. Meaning she is cooperating with us so we can do what she cannot. Not just that we’re just cooperating with her because she can do what we can’t. Es/us are the guards we can interrogate and interact with the prisoners how we see fit.

“Guard-san… no. Es. Don’t you want to join forces with me? I think the two of us would make good partners.” Join…forces with you? “With, you in the role of prison guard with the information you gather from interrogations, and me in the role of prisoner with the information I gather from my daily life in here… Working together and sharing our findings what do you think?”

But that’s weird, isn’t it?

She said sharing our findings but during her first interrogation and her second Es never shared any information, did they?

They never willfully told Kotoko any of their opinions on the prisoners. Yet she still acts as though information was shared. Because she wasn’t really asking. Throughout both of her voice dramas and over the course of Milgram one thing is consistently showcased about Kotoko. She doesn’t ask for permission ahead of time.

She takes the fact that Milgram is not taking precautions to stop prisoners from observing each other as permission enough to start observing Mikoto. Probably why he doesn’t fucking sleep too. Since she implies, she’s been observing him since Milgram started simply because he was acting funny and emphasizes their cells don’t have locks. To be honest just because no one is saying that you can’t do something doesn’t mean they’re in support of your doing it. The lack of an objection is not indicative of consent but okay Kotoko okay.

So, why did Es or really anyone here think Kotoko would treat them differently?

Especially when she showed off, she was already observing the interrogations from the jump. Then she never answered how she got into the room either. She just kept that a trade secret and diverted the conversation to a secondary issue.

How did I break into the interrogation room- What a funny question. Es the cells don’t have locks here. Hey, do you want to team up with me? To someone like Kotoko who can get anywhere she wants to and see whatever she wants within Milgram-

Someone like Es who barely has a full grasp of what's going on is always going to be beneath her or just another prisoner. We still don't even know how she figured out who had the highest guilty percentages. She's that ahead of us and that's an issue.

Guilty or Innocent might not even stop her at this point.

Her voice drama puts on full display her disgust in disappointment at not only Es' behavior over trial two but the audience's behavior as well. Then Deep Cover barrels in with all the vitriol she feels towards the other prisoners who spent all their interrogations framing her as a threat to them- People who are no better than garbage to her.

Going around crying about unfairness for someone giving them back what they gave and deserve. Going as far to say just like Futa that's karma isn't it. Even pointing out Es and the audience wouldn't care at all if they didn't feel like they knew these people or her. They'd just see a bad guy getting what they deserved just like they saw with her first mv and everyone would be oh so happy right?

Why is it any different when it happens to a bad guy that you know? If something is bad it's bad regardless of, who does it right? Why should it matter if you think they're nice, if they're just a kid, if they were having a hard time- It's so dumb because none of those things cancel out what the person has done. It doesn't bring back the people they've killed it's just making yourself feel good.

Taking those things into account won't make them change, won't stop them from offending again- It's so dumb. What about their victim's reasons, their lives, their struggles? People like that who just go forgiving the unforgivable because of those sorts of feelings alone can't change anything. The only thing they can do is excuse everything then act like what happens after that is nobody's fault.

It's nobody's fault I just did what I thought was right, I didn't think this would happen, it'd be good if I could have made it so it wouldn't have happened, even if my choices were bad ones they were still my own, to save the things that couldn't be saved I had to try it's all nonsense and never ending justification all the way down. Can any of that be considered taking responsibility at all?

While still carrying that feeling of self-loathing and recognition. that just screams I hate it because it's like me and that means i'm like you. It's annoying and depressing because that's just how people are. They're contradictory. Their morals are flexible. They're not subservient to any will but their own and even if someone else were to come a long and call them stupid, weak, overly sentimental, delusional, self-righteous, promiscuous, entitled, or a liar literally they don't have to fucking listen.

That's the entire point of Milgram, it's not about giving anybody what they want but everyone being able to do what they want because they want to. Plain and simple. But when you play like that the least you can do is take responsibility for your actions instead of conveniently putting all your problems on someone else.

Like Es said to Futa-

No matter what kind of suffering you’re going through, that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to evade justice.

It's hard so what- Would it be more fun if it were easy? Is living a fulfilling life something that can just be handed to everyone as simply as forgiving a transgression that didn't happen to you? It's different because it does feel like it's happening to you.

Because that's how people are and that's how they're always going to be.