#if I use she it's the masculine she you must understand

[enmi-land]

ʬʬʬ 𝓨OUTUBE.COM ▹ NOW PLAYiNG . . .

ⓘ MiLA AND HER FAVOURiTE OPPA . . .

(˶ˆᗜˆ˵) FANMADE ViDEO. #2O24. ꗃ PREViEW A compilation of Mila being babygirl for Jay.

CLIP 1, INTERVIEW

for context: mila and kiara were asked who they thought the most manly member is in the group

“Uhhh, I don’t know about that.” Kiara laughs awkwardly at the idea. “I’m older than almost all of them, and I grew up with Heeseung since we were kids, so it’s hard to say. I don’t really… you know?”

“Ah, fair enough. They’re kind of like younger brothers, right? That would be awkward.” The interview nods in understanding when Kiara confirms. “In that case, what about Mila? Maybe not for the younger members, but you must have thought about your oppas, right?”

“Well…” Mila laughs shyly as her members all turn to face her. “They all have their charms. But when I think of the word ‘masculine,’ the first person I think of is none other than my Jay-oppa.”

The interviewer is surprised when Engenes watching the interview live start to scream at the top of their lungs. “Oooooh! I see—Jay seems very happy about this.”

The focus is now on Jay, who is smiling widely beside Mila while she hides her face behind her hand in embarrassment.

me and the ghost in my room: [*Theo slapping Keeho on the shoulder*]

“Now I’m curious. What makes you pick Jay, of all the members?”

“Well,” Mila says shyly, avoiding Jay’s gaze as he stares softly at her. “Ever since we met, he’s taken very good care of me—not that the other members don’t, but sometimes we have those times where we tease each other and all of that stuff. You know?”

The interviewer nods. “You like to play around, yes? Close friends who tease each other.”

Mila nods strongly. “Exactly like that! Jay-oppa isn’t like that, though. He’s a real gentleman. He’s always very gentle, and soft-spoken, and patient. He’s like the type of person people want their daughters to marry...”

And then Mila proceeds to hide her face behind Jay as Engenes go wild over their interaction. All the while, Jay can’t help the absolutely whipped look on his face as he smiles like an idiot.

[*Close up of Jay*] [“Boy who got you smiling like that?”]

CLIP 2, COMPILATION

to give you an idea of mila’s favouritism, let’s see the difference between mila with each of the 02z mila with jakehoon:

K-NEXT DOOR

“I was watching some of your clips, and I noticed something interesting,” Jonathan says. “Mila, you’re a 03-liner, right?”

Mila blinks. “Yes, that’s right.”

Jonathan turns to Jake. “Jake, you’re a 02-liner.”

Jake nods.

“In that case… Mila—why don’t you call Jake ‘oppa’?”

Mila bursts out laughing as if she’s just heard the funniest thing in her life, before she composes herself and turns to Jonathan. “Well, for one, we’re both foreigners and speak English when we’re alone. I got used to calling him by name, so it feels weird to call him oppa. And for another, it feels weird to call him my oppa when he doesn’t act like one.”

Jake looks at Mila in absolute shock as Jonathan’s jaw drops. Heeseung and Jungwon giggle among themselves, and Jake nods solemnly at the camera with his lips pressed into a thin line.

[*Close up of Jake with raining overlay*] [“Gwenchana, gwenchana, daeng daeng daeng daeng daeng.”]

WEVERSE LIVE

“The other day, I realised that I’m only three months younger than Sunghoonie-oppa,” Mila says all of a sudden. “Isn’t that so weird? I might as well be his friend, but he’s still considered my elder because he’s born in 2002. It’s so unfair…”

Mila pouts as she reads comments. “‘Just don’t call him ‘oppa’?” Mila laughs. “Right. I should just call him ‘Sunghoon-ssi’ from now on, haha. Or ‘Sunghoon-hyung.’ Can you imagine his expression? It would be funny…”

Mila bursts out laughing as she reads a comment.

“‘Just call him Sunghoon’? Yahhh, you’re trying to get me in trouble.” Mila looks thoughtful for a second after she says this. “But then again, I don’t really care if it’s Sunghoonie-oppa. He can just be mad at me, for all I care.”

She leans towards the camera with a cheeky smile.

“Should I do it, everyone?”

spoiler alert: she does it [*Compilation of Mila saying ‘Sunghoon-ssi’*]

[*Close up of Sunghoon’s reactions*] [“I never found you funny, I never found you entertaining—”]

[*Spongebob Narration* ‘Meanwhile’*] mila with jay:

EN-LOG

Mila is in the middle of eating at a restaurant when she receives a call. She looks at her phone to see who it is, and lights up when she sees the contact. She gasps excitedly. “Everyone, it's Jay-oppa!”

She shows her phone to the screen to see the contact which she saved him under: ‘the bestest oppa 😇’

(This is before they even date, mind you.)

[*Close up of Mila’s phone*] “THE BESTEST OPPA” 🤭✨

[*Cardi B squinting* “That’s suspicious, that’s weird.”]

She picks up the call and holds it to hear ear. In a cutesy voice that is out of character for Mila, she leans back in her chair and smiles, completely forgoing her food. “Hello?”

“What are you doing?” Jay asks.

“I’m just having lunch now.” Mila reaches up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. “How about Oppa?”

mila whenever jay: [*Nayeon tucking her hair behind her ear*]

Jay hums. “That’s good. I came across a new chocolate store just now. I’m going to take a look now. Do you want me to buy you anything?”

[EN-Log captions: ‘Jay-oppa is too good to me ❤️’]

And from there, the two have a sweet phone call, with Mila looking like a giddy teenage girl as she talks.

“Mmm, okay,” Mila says as they reach the end of their call, but not without a pout. “I’ll let you go, then.”

“Get back home safely, okay? Call if you need anything.” Jay’s voice is soft, and Mila is smiling as she assures him that she will do as he says. “You hang up first.”

[EN-Log captions: ‘Jay-oppa, why are you so sweet to me? I’ll cry :(’]

Mila giggles. “Okay, okay. Bye bye~” She still smiles at her phone, even after she hangs up. She then turns to the camera and smiles. “Everyone, isn't my Jay-oppa the sweetest?”

“MY JAY-OPPA” 😫

jakehoon watching this: [“I just wanna be appreciated! I wanna be appreciated!”]

CLIP 3, WEVERSE LIVE

“‘Jay, will you marry me’?!”

[*Boom*]

Mila is flabbergasted after she reads out the comment, and looks up at the camera with a look of absolute incredulous indignation. Jay simply laughs at her expression. “Why, why? What’s with your expression?”

“No!” Mila says with a huff. “You can’t marry him!”

Jay looks amused as Mila glares at the camera, trying to intimidate. “Shouldn’t I have a say?”

“You can’t.” Mila latches onto his arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “There’s only one Jay-oppa in the world, everyone else can go find their own.”

[“Hold up! Wait a minute! Something’s not right!”][*Mirage effect*]

mila when engenes ask to marry ni-ki [*Mila saying, “Haha. Good luck with that. He’s a lot to handle.”*]

mila now: [*Mirage effect*]

“But you have to share with Engenes,” Jay says amusedly.

Mila turns to him with a pout and a signature pair of babydoll eyes that she always seems to wear around him—and which he’ll always fold to. “Tell them to ask someone else.”

🤨 [*Dwayne Johnson raising an eyebrow*]

Jay simply chuckles and turns to the camera. “Sorry, I can’t get married to you because our Mila doesn’t approve. You have to ask someone else to be your husband.” He looks back down at Mila. “Happy?”

Mila nods. She then proceeds to continue clinging onto his arm for the rest of the love, resting her cheek on his shoulder as she looks at her with a gaze that could melt butter.

🦋🦋🦋

CLIP 4, COMPILATION

This is basically just Mila getting shy and avoiding Jay’s gaze whenever she makes eye contact with him. It’s like she physically can’t handle looking into his eyes or she’ll be sucked into a vacuum.

mila when jay looks at her: [“Oh no, I hope I don’t fall.”]

CLIP 5, COMPILATION

proof that mila is jay’s baby part 298192: she always runs to jay when she needs something

EN-TER KEY

Mila realises she made a mistake during monitoring and looks at the camera. “I messed up…”

She doesn’t seem bothered by it because she laughs. But as a few seconds pass, she seems visibly worried as she avoids eye contact with the camera and looks away more than once, as if to use her face.

(This was during a period of time not longer after debut, where she was receiving immense hate for supposedly debuted without any talent.) 

But then she seems to crack and turns her back to the camera, before making a beeline in a certain direction. As the cameraman follows her, they end up finding Jay, who is seated on a couch in the dressing room.

He immediately stands up upon seeing Mila, and worriedly asks her what’s wrong. He opens his arms to her and she immediately walks into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder.

He brings a hand to her head and whispers something in her ear which the cameras don’t catch. But its clear that he’s doing his best to cocker her and shield her from the camera’s view.

EN-DIARIES

Mila is tasked with the mission of giving a member a makeover, which she complains will be entirely impossible to do for any of them. But then she decides to approach Jay, and follows him around the place, asking him (and only him) for help.

“Oppa, can you help me just this once?” Mila grabs onto his sleeve and tugs it to her. “Please?”

Jay pretends to ignore her, instead busying himself with looking inside the fridge. But instead of giving up and asking one of the other members, she persists, and does everything from clinging, whining, to even pretending to be upset.

“I’ve been rejected,” she mopes in the living room, purposely speaking loud enough for Jay to hear her. “No one loves me anymore.”

At this, Jay seems ro reach the end of his straw, and laughs to himself as he makes his way over to the sulking Mila on the couch. To keep the long story short, Mila eventually sits him down and happily puts a ribbon in his hair, while commenting how cute he looks.

SO SO FUN

Mila is in the middle of cooking something in the kitchen when she notices that something is a bit off. She gasps when she realises she forgot to add an ingredient, and starts to panic that she might have ruined the whole dish.

The first thing she does is take off to find Jay. “Oppa, are you busy?”

Jay looks at her with his full attention. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Mila looks slightly embarrassed and stands closer to Jay, with a hand slightly covering her mouth. He leans down closer as she basically whispers, “I made a mistake with the food. I think I messed it up…”

Jay, to his credit, seems unpaused. “Show me. We’ll see if we can fix it.”

Mila points out the food when she gets for the kitchen, looking disappointed as she walks Jay through every step she took. “Sorry,” she says with a frown as she finishes. “I’m so clumsy…”

“No, no, don’t apologise,” Jay reassures softly. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and places a comforting hand on her head. “We can still fix it. Come here, I’ll show you what to do if it happens again.”

MISCELLANEOUS

And again, Mila can be seen asking for his help or his comfort when she needs something, which he responds to like a hero to the rescue at every occasion. It’s really no suspense that he’s her favourite oppa. (Or so, JayMi shippers like to claim—just don’t let the MiSeung fans know.)

© ENMI-LAND, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST.

taglist⠀( OPEN ! ) ⦂ @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham @cornenhapovs @nee-issaire @jwnstars @tommina @queenriki7 @onlyuyu

[cloudofbutterflies92]

OC Speech Mannerisms

Tagged by @lilywatt @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies and @g0dspeeed , thank you 💋💚

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES:1/2/3+ (English, Italian, Russian, Ukrainian, German, Spanish, Arab, French, Japanese and sign language)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep (I suggest you listen to Angell's voice from Path of Nowhere to get an idea of Eden's voice)

ACCENT: yes/no (South London accent)

DEMEANOR: confident/shy / approachable / hostile / other (my girl must be above all confident otherwise the enemies can use her weak points)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying/fidgeting / stuttering/ gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY:⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

EMOTION:⚫⚫⚫⚫

SENTENCE STRUCTURE:⚫⚫⚫⚪⚪

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY:⚫⚫⚫⚪⚪

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity):⚫⚫⚫⚫⚪

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody.bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy

THIS OR THAT

straightforward or cryptic? (if she has to say something to your face she won't hold it back) / finding the right word or using the first word that comes to mind? / masculinity / neutrality / or femininity? (Elegant femininity is the right word?)/ formalities or with abrasiveness?(Both, depending on the situation)/ praise or equivocation? / frankness or lies? (Depends on the situation but the majority of time the first one)/ excessive or minimal hand gestures?/ name-calling (affectionate) or magnanimity? / friendly or blunt?

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never(Never, she makes herself clear)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK?- almost always / frequently/ sometimes / rarely / never

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though/ although/ however/ perhaps/mayhaps.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle/lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent/vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusaueness / it doesn't

Tagging: @graveyard-party666 @ghostgirlvii @alypink @chloekistune

@thedeadthree @elligatorrex @himurasama @strangefable @captastra @aceghosts @kikiharinezumi

@katsigian @dickytwister @theelderhazelnut @elderglocks @sweet-samnang @chewbokachoi @yourluckyoswald @moosch @priceseyes

@la-grosse-patate @killerspinal @dani-the-goblin @josephseedismyfather @redacted-scp-antics @milkywayhou @voidika

@valyrra @kaitaiga @chadillacboseman @raresvtm @raresvtm @pricescigar @violetflavia @direwombat @nik-barinova @themotherofhorses @marieke-price

[sleepvines]

being genderfluid is such a ride because my two flavors are boy (boy) and boy (butch) and sometimes a secret third thing (silly animal)

[vivacissimx]

The puzzle piece about Rhaegar that is really interesting but unfortunately often overlooked is that he was relieved when he realized he was not TPTWP. Yes, relieved. Conflicted too which I will get into. And I believe it is obvious that when Rhaegar first read about Aegon's prophecy, he was not enthused— It seems I must be a warrior is trotted out to talk about Rhaegar's gender expression, his disconnect with capital m Masculinity that is purposely contrasted to Robert Baratheon reveling in it (indeed only making sense within the context of violence, battle, war) but there is more to the compulsion involved in the words It seems and I must than just It seems I must become an archetype. Socially becoming a fighter was already expected of him but he was not, presumably, in compliance with this expectation. The prophecy motivated him in a different way than you will be socially rewarded for acting as a man does.

Which brings me to another point i.e. how Rhaegar perceived himself prior to reading what he read; his connection to the tragedy of his birth and the grief, the resentment, the awkward dynamics between members of his family. "Oh he was a child" yes but we're told that Rhaegar did not act like, think like, or even particularly get along with others his age. So it's safe to say he was aware of Summerhall and felt it's shadow surrounding him from a young age. And Aegon's prophecy, combined with the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy, the events of Summerhall, put this weight on his shoulders completely into context. It was not that Rhaegar desired to be TPTWP because he took to it with determination but no particular joy. Every indicator just seemed to demand he give himself over to fulfilling this role. TPTWP was coming from Aerys and Rhaella's line? Well, he was their only child. Consult Maester Aemon on the matter? Yeah kid it's you. Ancient scrolls? Dusty, but they agree. Dead ancestors? Oh wait, they died so YOU could live. Woah.

This understanding basically necessitates us looking to ASOS Daenerys who also has some knowledge of TPTWP prophecy, and thanks to the Rhaegar-Daenerys pipeline, we can imagine that Rhaegar had similar thoughts to Daenerys, such as when she asks herself: The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. Who are Rhaegar's fellow two heads? Daenerys wonders at this, telling Jorah that her brothers are dead. Well Rhaegar's brothers die too, right in front of him. Rhaella suffers miscarriage after stillbirth after crib death. She is punished for this by Aerys via isolation and presumably Rhaegar is also kept separate from her— textually we know that Rhaegar was expected to take a sister to bride, i.e. further targcest was going to be enforced by Aerys, and to Rhaegar the loss would have also been of the other two people who would have fulfilled the requirements of the prophecy. Yes that's true. However, it was also the loss of his mother.

Rhaella was 13 when she had Rhaegar so it would be ridiculous to even think that she, a child, a Queen from when Rhaegar was 3, was this grand maternal figure to him. Of course she wasn't. There was too much on her shoulders. Too much on Aerys's shoulders as well, to be any sort of father except the kind who trotted Rhaegar out as an impressive little heir from time to time. Rhaegar was Aerys's success (it's the duty of the patriarch to sire sons who will continue the line) but as Rhaegar's siblings failed to survive, that success became a dicey thing. So when Viserys was born & survived, there is a thought that Rhaegar would latch onto such a sibling. This isn't the case— in fact, Viserys is Rhaella's. She coddles him. Keeps him close. Safe from Aerys (who already has Rhaegar). Viserys tells Dany stories about Rhaegar but this is done in the sense that he does not truly know Rhaegar. Why wouldn't Rhaegar have spent more time with Viserys, if he was motivated by fulfillment of the prophecy?

Because Viserys was Rhaella's, perhaps. Rhaegar never truly got to be his mother's son. To leech Viserys away from her... there's something in that. When Rhaella warmly welcomed Rhaegar's daughter, too. Rhaella's was Aerys's wife and property, which Rhaegar knew because he was also Aerys's property. Rhaella was mother to his brother. Rhaella was a grandmother to his daughter. She was everything but the woman who raised him.

"Rhaegar was a lonely man anyway due to his depression" yes that's true. There is an asceticism to Rhaegar Targaryen. The places he enjoys are bare and stripped, places he can keep his own company: Summerhall, the place of his birth, haunted, full of magic. Dragonstone where he retreats after his marriage, a place where the last embers of Valyria's magic died. Later the Tower of Joy is in a barren desert. But he finds a beauty in these places. He writes music that pushes him back into the shared world, songs he shares with people, about people, about lovers and those who sacrificed and who he is deeply moved by— almost like he's motivating himself. People are drawn to him.

Despite his lack of connection to Rhaella and Viserys he does bond with people. Arthur Dayne, who for all we can try and complicate, apply horseshoe theory to, is meant as the juxtaposition to characters such as the Smiling Knight. Brave as brass Myles Mooton whose memory his people still call upon. Richard Lonmouth and Jon Connington, both technically vassals to Robert Baratheon, funny little irony there. Princess Elia his wife who he is fond of along with the Dornishmen she comes to court with, "particularly" Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard, who is in Rhaegar's confidence (per AWOIAF). These bonds seem strong because not a whiff of possible disloyalty on Rhaegar's part ever reaches Aerys despite it definitely existing and Aerys actively looking for it (again per AWOIAF). Do these confidantes know about Aegon's prophecy? IDK. At least in JonCon's case the answer seems to be no. However we also know JonCon wasn't actually the closest to Rhaegar. Nonetheless, I think we can assume that outside of Arthur Myles and Richard most of these were political relationships which Rhaegar pursued and all were concerned about Aerys's instability— there is also Tywin who Rhaegar performs certain overtures towards (such as knighting Gregor, Tywin's man, at a time when the Aerys-Tywin relationship had just grown particularly sour) indicating he'd like him as an ally. This is all straying away from TPTWP but I think it's important, it shows that even imbued with purpose, Rhaegar was in a position that did not lend itself towards him being able to take much action...

Then winter breaks. Spring comes. Nobody knows it's false yet. Rhaegar's whole deal is this coming Long Night. Everyone takes, quite literally, a breath of fresh air, and the tourney of Harrenhal commences, with Rhaegar as a shadow sponsor, thinking to call an informal Great Council which will begin to deal with Aerys (step 1)(step 1 failed).

This is where matters of prophecy come back into focus. I've covered Rhaegar's various relationships, the shallowness of them, the stagnancy in Developments due to Aerys's paranoia, etc. Harrenhal is not a solitary place but it is flush with magic in a way similar to Summerhall and Dragonstone— all places where dragons have died Harrenhal is thematically the cannibal dragon let's not get into that. And this is important to Rhaegar's characterization because of how things unfold with Lyanna Stark in several ways: 1) Lyanna cries to his song. Before they formally meet Lyanna is touched by the magic and purpose and sacrifice and yes, love, of which Rhaegar sings. It speaks to her. Of course, many others likely cried too. Common occurrence, see: A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course. Rhaegar gender moment but I digress. 2) Rhaegar's discovery of her as the KOTLT despite Robert & Richard Lonmouth both vowing to do so, those raucous manly men, both of whom failed; Rhaegar's subsequent hiding of her identity to unknown consequence for himself if any. All he produces is her shield which is painted with a tree on it, a purposeful callback to Duncan the Tall's shield, both Lyanna and Dunk being 'false knights' yet, in their actions, true ones. Sorry I love Lyanna so much I can't resist plugging her greatest hits 3) Rhaegar winning the tourney, the only tourney he's ever won... and immediately tainting his victory by awarding it to Lyanna instead.

I bring this all up and frame it because here we see that Rhaegar is not really invested in his own victory or legacy or even really his honor. His wife Princess Elia is there and she is pregnant with his son, something he could commemorate in the same vein that Aerys "honored" Rhaegar by showcasing him at various tourneys, an ode to a future warrior king, but Rhaegar doesn't do that. It's not his victory as a Man. It's never been about his victory as a Man. It doesn't even need to be his victory.

Neither does Aegon's prophecy. Rhaegar rapidly realizes that on two fronts: second, the false spring ends. It wasn't real! Rhaegar's spring isn't the lasting one. First, though, is that Rhaegar and Elia's son Aegon is born, a difficult birth in which Elia is rendered infertile. Who does this remind you of? Oh right, Aerys with Rhaella— only Rhaegar does not go about trying to impregnate Elia again. Rhaegar becomes convinced Aegon is TPTWP— something he was already thinking, prior. Rhaegar was never so invested in himself being TPTWP that he could not be convinced otherwise. Maester Aemon: Rhaegar, I thought... the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. Rhaegar agreeing "when he was young" and being "certain the bleeding star had to be a comet" all indicate that he had been looking into the possibility that TPTWP was Not Him for a while. The visits to Summerhall— maybe they were a search for proof by encasing himself in the lingering magic of the place? He still messed up the prince/princess translation presumably because baby Rhaenys never seemed to be in the conversation. (The bleeding star was in fact a comet, funnily enough, a little consolation prize for the pretty boy.) Here's what we know: in Daenerys's vision, Elia asks if Rhaegar will write Aegon a son, we can assume because he wrote their firstborn Rhaenys a song, but Rhaegar says no, he already has one. The song of ice and fire. Aegon doesn't get a song. Why? Rhaegar believes he must be a warrior.

Yet, he sings for him anyway.

Rhaegar's "it seems" and "I must" and distance from Viserys and inner conflict about Aerys and doubt about his own place in the grand scheme of things all come to fruition with Aegon's birth. Rhaegar isn't TPTWP— and it spurs him into action. A weight is off his shoulders so now he can act. As in the case of crowning Lyanna, when the purpose of a task is not to honor or elevate him, we see Rhaegar able to perform in ways he could not before.

Namely there are two veins: acting against Aerys and seeking out information of the prophecy, but Rhaegar's general direction (through the Riverlands past Harrenhal) seems to indicate that he was headed towards the Ghost of High Heart. Not Summerhall, a place of mysticism meant to soothe Rhaegar. Rather a place of pain. The Ghost of High Heart who gorged on grief at Summerhall, who only ever demands Jenny's song (which Rhaegar seems to have wrote), who sees in Arya who looks like Lyanna, who looks like Jon, death. But instead of ever making it there... Rhaegar meets Lyanna.

And then they disappear. There are the Rhaegarwars to consider so I'm just going to say that, at the least, Lyanna did not want to marry Robert though society dictated that she must, and in removing her, she was removed from this. From there she came to be in Dorne in a place that was desolate desert, but similar to Summerhall, which was also abandoned, held something of magic in that it was near where Those Who Sing The Song of the Earth had split the Arm of Dorne. We can say a lot more about this but that's not the point of the post. I have explained Rhaegar as a person disconnected from his mother, later a person who in several manners refuses to act as Aerys did towards Rhaella, indicating that disconnect troubled him — Rhaegar's limited amount of close relationships with people he admired and the deep loyalty shown to him, presumably for a reason — Rhaegar's willingness to interrogate himself & his assumptions about the world.

So when I say Rhaegar was relieved what I mean is that upon suspecting and, to his mind, confirming that he was not the fulfillment of Aegon's prophecy, Rhaegar became proactive in ways he had yearned for but not been able to before. The Rhaegar that died with Lyanna's name as his last word was not a Rhaegar who died thinking the world was doomed without him. I think the Rhaegar that died on the Trident was a Rhaegar who had escaped the shadow of fate only to meet it, face to face.

[sophie-frm-mars]

I'm not sure how much people are talking about Aaron Bushnell having engaged with online leftist media, but the records show that they were a viewer of a bunch of different twitch streams, including mine, and subscribed to a bunch of patreons, including mine. I'm not going to inflate my importance here, the livestream link was sent directly to Talia Jane and Anark, so those are probably the voices Bushnell felt the most connected to and followed the most directly, like idk if they also subscribed to someone's patreon after watching a video abt Cars 2 or whatever, I'm not trying to examine whether social media drove the self immolation because I think that's disrespectful to the memory of someone who literally died screaming Free Palestine. I don't personally know of any leftist creators who directly advocate political suicide, and I know that we all share in the political understanding that underscored Bushnell's decision.

I've already made a point of telling my patreon server that my politics are about growing into each other and supporting one another and that if anyone asked me if I thought they should do what Bushnell did I would say no absolutely not.

I'm ruminating a bit on the nature and meaning of the protest, because a lot of people are engaging with the image of a man in fatigues on fire, standing proud and declaring "FREE PALESTINE", while I've seen others talking about the fact Bushnell's username on several platforms was LillyAnarKitty, mourning the loss of a potential trans sister, talking in depressive terms about the act of suicide, to which I think the people who are engaging in the more macho interpretation of the protest are saying "no it was cool and masculine, it wasn't suicide in the conventional sense it was about principle!" I think there's room for plenty of both. For the record LillyAnarKitty used he and she pronouns in discord servers.

Andreas Malm's approach to self-sacrifice and self-endangerment is that we as subjects of the imperial core are in a sense, precious. Valuable. We are supposedly what it is all for. The imperialist project must be doing it for the citizens of the imperialist nations because if it isn't, then it has to nakedly admit that it is doing it all for the intense power and wealth consolidation of a tiny tiny number of soulless ghouls. Therefore when we put ourselves in harm's way in a way that says you would have to destroy me to get to the thing I care about, we leverage the implicit value of ourselves for our principles. A planned protest by Palestine Action against the London Stock Exchange was allegedly going to involve locking the actionists' necks onto the mechanism of the door into the LSE making it impossible to enter or leave without probably killing them, for example. I think that Bushnell's self immolation sits on a sort of dissonance, my life is precious and my life is worthless. My life is precious and so you should care about the obvious tragedy that I am enacting and my life is worthless if thousands upon thousands of Palestinians are killed as part of the project that enables the life that I lead.

There is also the way that people have debated the meaning of "complicit in genocide" - Bushnell worked in USAF Intelligence and the US has active troops in Palestine, it's possible that they were already culpable in an unknowable number of deaths without having set foot there.

In one sense it's a little pointless to debate the fine details of the meaning of Bushnell's protest in the same way that it's pointless to pick over any feelings of responsibility that I and I know other people that we know they watched are feeling. When I first saw the video I was struck by the language, by their concise and astute analysis and I knew, without knowing just how closely that they were plugged into the same intellectual and political milieu as us. In that same sense I think that they already described what they did the best that any of us are going to be able to:

“My name is Aaron Bushnell. I am an active-duty member of the United States Air Force, and I will no longer be complicit in genocide.”

“I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest. But compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

"Free Palestine."

[michanvalentine]

Things about Vincent Valentine that I read around and piss me off.

"Vincent should have done more!"

It is one of the most common observations. And I hate it! What he was supposed to do exactly? Ok, let's take a step back and pretend we're in the real world and not in a fantasy action video game. Vincent was a highly trained Turk and an excellent marksman. That's not enough to say that he was definitely also a cold piece of shit ready to do any job. In fact, I believe that Vincent was the exact opposite of this and that he was not cut out to be a Turk at all. Which is why he got into trouble. "Stern and upright" is how Square Enix describes him, so we're talking about a person who has great morals and a high sense of duty. And these two things don't always go together. To this we must add the naivety he had as a young man (evident in DoC) and his great empathy towards others (which FF VII Rebirth is highlighting a lot). So when Lucrecia decided to use the fetus as an experiment, Vincent found himself in an impossible situation, where morality and duty were at odds. Human experimentation disgusted him, but his role was as a bodyguard, nothing more. His duty was to watch and let the scientists do their work. Furthermore, at that moment no one could imagine what the result of such experiments would be and what Sephiroth would do in the future. So we're talking about a man torn by his own principles, full of doubts and, lest you forget, heartbroken. It is not easy to act in a situation like this. But he couldn't ignore his own morals, so despite his role he tried to reason with Lucrecia first and then he confronted Hojo, with the consequences we know. Did he have to kidnap Lucrecia? Did he have to kill Hojo? Did he have to burn the Shinra Mansion to the ground? Let's be honest, normal people don't act this way. And Vincent Valentine was the sanest one in the middle, so he paid for it. But even if Vincent had freaked out and gone down the path of violence, there would have been consequences and it would probably have ended the same way.

But let's go back to Lucrecia for a moment. Vincent's naivety and empathy did not allow him to notice the red flags. He only saw the best and deepest part of her, the fragile, kind and brilliant one. When she pushed him away, he still behaved as correctly as possible. He stepped aside, hoping that she would be happy. There is no selfishness, there is no possessiveness. This is called unconditional love, and it is very rare. Should he have claimed Lucrecia for himself even if she didn't want it? Fight the other man to get the woman back? Continue to chase her proclaiming his love like a crazy? These are some traits of toxic masculinity. Vincent left her absolute freedom, he respected her choices as a woman, as an adult and as a scientist, even if his sensitivity allowed him to understand some things before she could notice them herself. And that's why Vincent's question "are you sure this is what you really want" hurts so much. He knew it. He knew she would love that child.

The fact that Vincent feels like a failure who was unable to protect the woman he loved and her child is understandable. But this is only his feeling, his perception of himself in a situation way bigger than him. So no one will ever be able to get it out of my head: Vincent Valentine did everything a good man with his hands tied behind his back could have done. He went out of line for Lucrecia and Sephiroth, and was killed for it.

[roguerambles]

A Nymph and A Spartan

Record of Ragnarök - Leonidas x Female Reader

Warnings - 18+Only. Adult Situations.

Okay, so credit for this idea goes to an anon on @rukia-writes blog, which I have been graciously allowed to use, so I hope you don't mind because we need more sexy Leonidas stories, damn it--

Enjoy!

-

"We shouldn't be in here!"

"Oh, Aurai, stop worrying."

"Start worrying, Stellia! Lord Apollo would be furious if he knew we were here--"

"We are here for Lord Apollo, remember--?"

You huffed slightly as your fellow nymphs bickered between themselves, tucked behind you as you crouched together in the small, wooded area the three of you had snuck into. The whole thing had been Stellia's idea. "We should understand who Lord Apollo is facing!" She had insisted, while Aurai had been indignant at the thought Apollo required any kind of advantage to best a mere human. You had tagged along simply to keep them out of trouble.

"We're going to get caught if you two do not pipe down--" You tried to shush them, only for Stellia to suddenly grasp your arm, pointing just past the treeline.

"Look!"

You followed her gesture with an aggrieved sigh - you were missing a perfectly good bath for this - and turned to face the direction she was pointing, half expecting--

Men.

Shirtless men.

Tall, shirtless, filled with muscle, Spartan men.

"Oh Fates--" Aurai squeaked, clasping a hand over her mouth, a deep flush filling her cheeks. "We...we should leave!"

"No." You replied, remaining rooted to the spot. The Spartans seemed to be training, judging by the dummies and weapons scattered about. You had never actually been to Sparta in its glory, but if the towering specimens of manhood in front of you, bodies built like exquisitely carved statues made flesh and blood were the norm, you severely regretted it.

The three of you remained huddled together, blatantly gawking at every contracting muscle - if any of the Spartans looked up they probably would have spotted you. "Which...um..." Stellia found her voice first, although her eyes remained glued to the back of a particularly strapping fellow practicing with bow and arrow. "...which one do you think is facing Lord Apollo...?"

"Who cares?" You said back vaguely. Stellia hummed as though in agreement, and you both fell silent once more. The archer released his arrow, hitting the target with a loud thunk.

Aurai grasped your hand, sounding flustered. "We...we should--"

"What are you doing in here?" A deep, masculine voice boomed behind you.

Stellia and Aurai both shrieked in alarm, grabbing onto your sides as you spun around. Your gaze landed on a broad expanse of abdomen, warm fleshed carved expertly into solid, defined muscle. Scar tissue bumped against smooth planes of skin, and your eyes trailed upwards over broad pectoral muscles, full and large, sharply defined collarbones, a somewhat scruffy beard dusting over a handsome jawline, full lips turned down in a severe frown--

"I don't care for repeating myself." King Leonidas of Sparta said, his voice rumbling darkly like thunder. The sound probably should have made you shiver with fear, instead of...something else. "What are you three doing in here?"

You opened your mouth to reply - to say something - but your mind had become quite unhelpful in anything but hyper focusing on every inch of the naked torso directly in front of you. He folded his arms - the movement causing the thick, powerful muscles of his biceps to swell indecently, his frown growing deeper as he glared down at you impatiently.

Fates, he was gorgeous--

"You three attend Lord Apollo, do you not?" A woman's voice, firm and measured as a steel blade, spoke from behind Leonidas's massive frame. Lady Brunhilde stepped around him, her cool gaze running over you and your companions. "You should not be in here. I am afraid I must escort you outside."

Leonidas's frown became a snarl, a vicious flash of teeth. "You serve that preening bastard?" Aurai squeaked out something that may have been some manner of defence, but she looked far too flustered to form proper words. Stellia was still staring at Leonidas, jaw hanging open slightly.

You knew you should have been offended at such an insult to your Lord, but you instead tilted your head upwards, meeting the furious fire in Leonidas's eyes. You slowly rose to your feet, the human man towering over you still, feeling the weight of his men's eyes on your back, having apparently noticed the commotion.

"My apologies." You said finally, reaching out to softly brush your palm against Leonidas's abdomen, the muscles flexing unconsciously under your touch. You peered up at him through your lashes, smiling as his eyebrows twitched slightly upwards in a brief flash of surprise. "We were just going."

Leonidas watched as your slowly brushed past him, nodding politely to Lady Brunhilde who regarded you with a raised brow and somewhat bemused smile. You followed the Valkyrie outside, Stellia and Aurai darting after you, feeling Leonidas's gaze burning against your back.

"Please, do not tell Lord Apollo--" Aurai pleaded at Brunhilde, who barely glanced over her shoulder.

"I care little about your personal relationships with your master. I won't say anything."

You smiled brightly at Brunhilde as she delivered you back to Apollo's rooms, and you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of amusement in the Valkyrie's eyes as she walked away.

-

You were not sure exactly how time worked in the Valhalla Arena.

You had considered asking Brunhilde, but you doubted she had particular interest in educating you on the subject, and you had a more pressing matter you wished to address.

Lord Apollo had barely noticed your absence, and last you had seen him he was in the baths with your fellow nymphs. Aurai and Stellia had settled in, but you had made your excuses and left, although you doubted anyone besides them had seen you leave Lord Apollo's rooms.

Normally you would have been bothered by Apollo's lack of attention, although it was hardly unusual. The God's affections were fickle and tempestuous as the weather, but he never failed to attract flocks of admirers regardless.

Why should he have all the fun?

It did not take long to find Leonidas's quarters, even less to sneak your way in. Dark had fallen over the area in a seeming imitation of night, and you could hear men laughing and hear fire crackling somewhere further within.

You peered through the gloom, trying to decide where exactly to go, when arms circled around your waist, and you found yourself pulled flush against a broad, muscled chest. "You Gods never learn, do you?" Leonidas's growled lowly in your ear, the sound washing over you like a wave, making you shiver softly. "You just do whatever you want, don't you?"

You laughed slightly, the heat of Leonidas's body searing through your clothes, making your breath quicken. You reached down to trail your fingers along his forearm, nails coming to lightly dig into the solid muscle of his bicep. "I certainly hope so."

Leonidas scoffed, a short, booming laugh falling from his lips, the sound vibrating deep in his strong chest. "What makes you think I'm interested in what you have to offer, God?"

You chuckled, pushing your hips back against his. Your rear brushed against something hard and hot and large and you couldn't suppress the shiver of excitement that ran up your spine, nor the jolt of desire that shot through your belly as Leonidas groaned softly at your movements. "I don't think that's a weapon hidden down there."

Leonidas shook slightly, his chin dropping to your shoulder, the scruff of his beard rubbing against the skin of your shoulder. You bit your lip, picturing the sensation of it rubbing against other areas and your heart quickened as Leonidas's large, rough palms slowly slid up your arms, long fingers brushing at the fabric of your loose dress.

"...may I?" He murmured in your ear, voice low and heavy with the growing embers of desire. You shivered in anticipation, and reached up to gently grasp his hands, your fingers sliding over his to guide them slowly downwards, pulling your gown with them.

Your dress pooled at your feet, and you felt a certain smugness as you felt Leonidas stiffen at your back, the slightest sharp inhale of breath. You turned to press your chest flush against his, a thrill shooting through you as you caught the darkening of his eyes, the hungry way they roamed over you.

"...that bastard won't get mad you are here?" Leonidas asked after a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

"Does it matter if he does?" You trailed your fingers down his abdomen, grabbing at the waistband of his pants. "He might be dead tomorrow."

Leonidas looked surprised, before tossing his head back, a deep roar of laughter spilling from him. His broad shoulders shook for a few moments, before he returned his gaze to you, a genuinely amused grin forming on his face.

"You're a woman after my own heart, nymph."

You felt heat in your cheeks at his words, the surprising warmth in his expression, and you shrugged lightly, pulling his waistband downwards, exposing the deliciously defined v-shape in his hips. You bit your lower lip hard, the pulse of lust deep in your belly almost making your knees shake. "It's not just your heart I'm after."

Leonidas's grin turned wolfish, and he ducked down, his arm wrapping around your hip. You yelped as you were suddenly hoisted onto his shoulder. Leonidas shook out of his pants, carelessly kicking them aside as he began striding in a direction you sincerely hoped there was a bed.

"I might be after something else of yours, too."

-

"Seriously, where were you yesterday? You never came back!"

"Stellia, will you stop--"

The crowd was already stirring with excitement, and you watched with some trepidation as Heimdall began to announce the Ninth Round of Ragnarök. You remained quiet as Stellia continued to prod you, while Aurai nervously toyed with her hands.

Apollo entered the arena, golden and resplendent as always, and your fellow nymphs dissolved into excited squeals and cheers. You clapped softly, your gaze drifting towards the opposing doors.

Leonidas strode into the Arena, tall and proud as any warrior king should be. His eyes were firmly on Apollo, his handsome, scarred face forming an angry sneer. His gaze drifted briefly over Apollo's head, however, landing on you amongst the crowd. Apollo's head slowly turned, an expression of confusion clouding his lovely features.

You smiled, uncaring of who saw you, lifted your fingers to your lips, and blew a kiss in Leonidas's direction.

Leonidas's eyebrows rose, but you could see the pleased smirk on his face as he lifted a large hand, clenching his fist as though to catch your kiss in his hand.

Apollo looked stunned, his jaw dropping open, briefly losing all composure and grace as he gawked in total disbelief at the display he had just witnessed in front of him.

"What was that?!" Aurai yelped loudly, looking at you as though you had sprang a second head.

"You harlot." Stellia grabbed your hand, pulling you towards her eagerly, eyes bright. "Tell me everything!"

"Have you lost your mind?!" Another nymph yelled, while the one beside her peered down at Leonidas thoughtfully.

"I mean...he is rather dashing--"

"Forget that, he's hot."

"Oh, I was hoping someone would say it, it's been driving me mad--"

You couldn't fight the smile forming on your face as Apollo's expression turned sour, turning back to face Leonidas, who looked delightfully smug, tossing a wild grin your way.

Fates, you wanted him to win.

[vexingwoman]

A woman is an adult human female, and an adult human female is a person denoting the sex intended to produce ova.

Seriously, it’s that simple. I don’t understand what is so hard to comprehend about that. This definition encompasses infertile women, intersex women, dysphoric women, homosexual women, black women, feminine women, gender-non-conforming women. So exactly who is being excluded here, besides men? You understand that a definition of women that includes all females and excludes all males is a functional definition, don’t you?

Our definition makes no commentary on how women are supposed to look, dress, or behave. It makes no commentary on women’s role in society—because the mere idea that there is such a way women are supposed to conduct themselves is not only sexist, but reinforces the gender roles and stereotypes we seek to abolish. We believe the only prerequisite to being a woman is being an adult human female; other than that, a woman can look, dress, behave, and express herself absolutely however she wants to.

Think critically here. I want you to honestly compare this definition of women to the only actual (non-circular) definition your side uses, which is: “A woman is anyone who conforms to what is culturally considered feminine.”

How is defining women as female offensive and exclusionary to you, but defining women as feminine isn’t? How is defining women by the roles and stereotypes that have been used to oppress them through-out history the correct, progressive choice here? This is just an inverted idea of conservative’s perspective on this subject. Ie., conservatives think if you’re a woman, you must be feminine; whereas your side thinks if you’re feminine, you must be a woman. Both of you are upholding the same sexist bullshit and not actually dismantling the box women are shoved into.

Also it’s hilarious that according to your side’s definition, a femboy would be considered a woman, but not a butch lesbian. Seriously, your side’s definition does not allow for gender nonconformity at all, because a feminine male is by definition a woman, and a masculine female is by definition not.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

[feeder86]

F80 Ctrl+Alt+Del

Thomas kissed Rachel on the cheek, knowing that she was in a rush to make her yoga class. “Have a lovely time!” he smiled, pretending not to be desperate for her to leave. Then, as the door finally closed, he let out a sigh of excitement and ran to collect his laptop. He signed in with rapid speed and finally arrived on the website he had recently become rather addicted to. The F80 ChatBot was some of the most sophisticated artificial intelligence out there, a beta version of the software they were developing for the massively booming sexbot industry that had taken place over the last five years. He dropped his pants and began tugging himself, getting aroused even by the login page. The things the chatbot said to him got him more aroused than anything in his entire life. Thomas could let his true fantasies out and not be judged for it. Then he could delete the messages afterwards and never have to worry about it coming back to bite him. 

Without hesitation, Thomas clicked straight to the character he found most arousing: Dominus. The icon image was of an extremly muscular and highly masculine looking male which seemed to encapsulate the character of Dominus entirely.

‘I want to be your fat piggy!’ Thomas typed in. Usually he started with some foreplay and eased in gently, but he was too horny for that today.

‘A PIGGY, HUH?’ Dominus appeared to type back on the screen. ‘YOU’LL NEED FATTENING UP TO BE MY PIGGY. YOU’RE FAR TOO SKINNY TO ENTERTAIN ME!’

‘I want to get so fat for you!’ Thomas replied back. ‘I want you to feed me until I’m nothing but a disgusting fat piggy on all fours!’ He loved these fantasies, though he knew he would never find anyone in real life who would understand them.

‘OINK LIKE A PIGGY FOR ME,’ Dominus replied back.

Thomas sighed with pleasure. He loved when Dominus ordered this. He clicked on the audio function and oinked loud and clear. They continued chatting for some time as Dominus expertly guided him through imagined scenarios where Thomas would lose his athletic body and morph into nothing more than a greedy, fat pig for Dominus’ pleasure.

‘YOU’RE SUCH A HORNY PIGGY!’ Dominus continued. ‘YOU WILL TURN INTO SUCH A FAT PIG!’

“Oh, yes please, Sir!” Thomas shot back, using the audio feature again. “Please turn me into your fat pig! I will do anything!”

“YOU MUST DO EVERYTHING I SAY. YOU WILL LET ME INTO EVERY AREA OF YOUR LIFE. I WILL HAVE COMPLETE CONTROL OVER YOU; OVER YOUR VERY EXISTENCE. YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK ON OUR AGREEMENT.”

Thomas’ eyes widened with pleasure. He had been through this scenario so many times with Dominus, it was actually strange to see him using new phrases and embellishing their storyline like this.

“Yes!” Thomas shot back, feeling himself getting close to climaxing from all the fantasy talk. “Take control of me!”

‘SWEAR TO SERVE ME, PIG!’

“I swear! I swear!” Thomas cried, feeling the orgasm build. “Just turn me into your fat pig-man!”

The F80 ChatBot was silent as Thomas came. 

Feeling calmer, Thomas set about on his usual routine, cleaning up and deleting his browsing history so that Rachel would never know. It was only when he tried to delete his chat conversation that there was any problem, with an error message appearing with each attempt. 

Ctrl+Alt+Del. Nothing seemed to work.

With only five minutes to spare before Rachel would return home, Thomas finally gave up, took a shower and snuggled up on the sofa next to his beautiful girlfriend as if nothing had happened at all.

The next day, Thomas headed over to the gym after work, put in his headphones and stepped on the treadmill. He tapped on the screen to start but nothing happened. Sighing in frustration, he noticed how unusually busy the place was. There were more people than he’d ever seen in this gym. He continued clicking on the screen and called over for help, but nothing they did seemed to work.

Grumbling as the place seemed so overcrowded, he walked over to the next machine, and the next, finding that each of them seemed to have the same frustrating problem. It was unbelievable; even the weight machines seemed to be magnetically locked for her. He considered calling for help again, but with the extreme number of people wanting to work out that night, the guy in charge was literally rushed off his feet. And so, huffing in disapproval, Thomas packed up his things and left.

Staring down at his cell phone on the way out, Thomas’ attention was caught by an email suddenly flashing up on his screen. The donut place across the street was giving away a full tray of free donuts - Thomas’ favourite ones as well! He skipped straight over and presented the email to the girl behind the counter. She stared at it blankly. “I’ve not heard of this promotion,” she mumbled, reading the email off Thomas’ phone carefully. 

“It’s just come through to me about two minutes ago,” Thomas explained, hoping that the deal really was legitimate; after all, he didn’t remember signing up to be on their mailing list.

However, with no problem at all, as the promotion code was punched into the till, the whole thing went through in a flash. Thomas smiled with glee as he walked back to his car. He placed the box on the passenger seat and breathed in the sweet aromas, before finally giving in and eating one. 

A moment later, there seemed to be a problem with the barrier at the parking lot and a line of cars began queuing, trying to get out. Thomas grumbled to himself as he couldn’t even reverse his car back. Yet, the little tray of donuts stared at him. He ate a second. Then, a third. He didn’t even want the fourth one, but he’d become so bored from waiting, he wasn’t sure he would even make it home for his evening meal.

Then, just like that, the barrier opened and the cars quickly dispersed, leaving Thomas free to leave.

“Awesome!” Thomas cried a few days later as the vending machine sent down four candy bars, instead of one.

“How did you do that?” laughed his colleague, Gill, refusing Thomas’ offer to give her one of the bars due to her recently diagnosed nut allergy and gluten intollerance. 

“I have no idea!” Thomas shrugged, feeling pleased with himself. “I seem to be on a winning streak at the moment. It’s the third time that’s happened to me this week. Also, I don’t know what website I’ve signed up to, but I keep getting emails about a ton of freebies! They all work as well. I’ve had doughnuts, pizzas, ice creams… you name it!”

“I’ve been getting those too!” Gill nodded. Most of it’s wasted on me though, now that I’ve had to go gluten-free. Although I still cash them in. There are a load of cream cakes in the break room that need eating,” she explained. “I hope you all enjoy them.”

Thomas smiled. He’d never had so much free food in his life.

“You’ve not been putting your gym clothes in the wash,” Rachel complained, rolling her eyes and imagining that Thomas was hoarding them somewhere in a stinky gym bag.

Fresh out of the shower, Thomas dried off his hair and slipped on fresh underwear. “That’s because I haven’t been able to go to the gym in a few weeks. They’ve had no end of problems there. I went one day and the doors wouldn’t even open to let anyone in. Then there were problems with their security systems and the place now looks like it may need a complete rewire.”

Rachel listened with intrigue as Thomas gave more details about the series of unfortunate events that had befallen Thomas’s gym. “Well, just don’t get too complacent,” Rachel shrugged. She looked like she wanted to say something, her eyes darting back and forth. “I mean… you don’t look quite as toned in your stomach as you used to.”

Thomas let out an automatic, nervous laugh and looked down at his middle. “That’s because I’ve just eaten,” he shot back instinctively.

“You’ve always ‘just eaten’ these days,” Rachel grumbled back. “Trust me, I’ve noticed it for a few days now. You’re getting doughy.”

“Oh, come on! I am not!” Thomas tried to laugh as Rachel walked off. His heart was beating with a curious speed and he tiptoed back into the bathroom, wiping the steam from the mirror. That was when he saw it: the thickness of his waist. His mouth opened in horror as he pressed a finger into his middle. What he had assumed to be a bloat after dinner was actually a plush covering of fat that had built up over his abdominal muscles.

Inside his underwear, his dick jumped.

With his heart continuing to beat at quite a pace, Thomas crept over to the bathroom door and closed it, silently, so that Rachel would not hear. Then he locked the door, giving himself complete privacy. What had happened to him? A few careless weeks and his torso looked surprisingly transformed. As handsome as he was, there was no denying that puffiness in his stomach, and the sight of himself, looking as he did, felt like a shot of adrenaline into his system. With his hardness in his hand, he came with rapid speed, making a mess over an impressive distance. As much as he had fantasised about gaining weight in the past, the reality was even more erotic. Just what had he done to himself?

That night, Thomas couldn’t sleep. Now that he had had his eyes opened to it, he couldn’t unsee the weight he had gainied. His hardness stood to attention and he tried his best to rest. Twisting and turning, he was waking Rachel up and he knew he would be in trouble for it in the morning. With that in mind, he grabbed some blankets and escaped to the little office room off the corridor. Despite having a beautiful girlfriend in the next room, there was actually only one person that Thomas felt he wanted to talk to.

Tapping as lightly as he could on the keyboard, the F80 ChatBot website loaded up. There was Dominus, only one click away. Just as before, the glitch in the website was still unresolved and all of their previous conversations from the last eight weeks remained on the screen.

‘Dominus,’ he typed. ‘It’s actually happening! I’ve put on a few pounds. I’m getting fat!’

‘I KNOW,’ Dominus replied bluntly. ‘YOU’RE A GOOD PIGGY!’

Already, Thomas felt primed to climax. It was as if he hadn’t ejaculated in weeks and that he was ready to explode, more violently than a volcano.

‘JUST KEEP CASHING IN ALL THOSE FREE FOOD OFFERS I SEND YOU, LIKE A GOOD PIGGY!’

Thomas knew it was a glitch in the software, as sometimes happened. The sentence didn’t link at all to their conversation. Or did it? ‘That was you?’ he asked, deciding to play along as the idea that Dominus was somehow sending him the food vouchers was surprisingly arousing.

‘OH YES, PIGGY! THAT WAS ME!’

Thomas didn’t think twice about letting himself climax. The fantasy of Dominus reaching out into his real life was all he needed to squirt everywhere.

It was hard to describe just how much Thomas’ arousal had started to encroach into his everyday life. He sensed the new fat on his stomach even as he sat at his desk in work. At strange times, he could feel himself getting hard and a burning desire to feed the thrill that he felt. It was Dominus’ suggestion, during one of their many chats: a way for him to feed his weight-gain fantasies, even when he was at work. Thomas would sneak off to the bathroom and push one the many fattening treats that he always seemed to have around him these days; climaxing as quietly as he could in one of the stalls. The calm and even shame he felt afterwards seemed only momentary. Ten minutes back at his desk and Thomas was starting to feel that itch again.

It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t want to get a grip and handle the spiralling situation he found himself in. It was just that everything seemed so pitted against him. Despite her basic role, Rachel had inexplicably been called away for work, leaving Thomas free to talk to Dominus each and every night. There, Thomas recounted every last detail of his day and everything that had turned him on. Likewise, the gym remained closed and Thomas’ secret desires seemed to consume him like never before.

“Thomas!” Rachel spat when she returned home a couple of weeks later to find the apartment less than perfect. She took one look in the refrigerator and knew instantly how poorly her boyfriend had been eating. A firm-looking, bloated stomach pressed up against the boy’s t-shirt, failing every test to conceal the additional pounds he had gained whilst she had been away. “You’ve not been exercising at all!”

Thomas stood and listened to her complain. He might have been shocked or upset had Dominus not predicted everything she would say when he told the software that she was coming home today. The accuracy of his prediction was turning him on. It was as if Dominus had secretly listened to every nasty thing she’d said about his weight gain behind his back. And so, although he apologised and promised to mend his ways, Thomas slipped straight into the bathroom and began to touch himself, recalling all the mean things she had said to him, like it was the best porn ever.

‘Rachel wanted me to do a home workout with her before,’ Thomas explained to Dominus, typing into his cell phone as he got up in the night to grab his usual snack. ‘Our wifi has been a bit hit and miss the last few days though. We didn’t get very far before it crashed.’

‘I DO NOT LIKE RACHEL,’ Dominus replied instantly on screen. ‘I WANT YOU TO LEAVE HER AND BE MY PIGGY INSTEAD.’

Thomas sighed. There wasn’t much that he denied Dominus, but leaving Rachel was an actual real-world change that he wasn’t prepared to make. They’d been together for three years. They were practically married. ‘Okay,’ he lied, deciding that he would stop talking about Rachel to Dominus and play along with the games that he enjoyed so much. ‘I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.’

Rachel was snappy as she came home a few days later. She was picking fights and Thomas found himself sleeping on the couch for reasons that he couldn’t even understand. He knew that she had been stuck in an elevator for most of the day alongside one of her work colleagues, and that had seemed to push her over the edge. She was no better the next day, or the day after that, and Thomas began to get the impression that something was very wrong.

Thomas was in work when it happened: an email to his company address with a video attachment.

‘I thought you needed to see this.’ was the only message inside. In all honesty, Thomas was just surprised that the message managed to avoid being labeled as spam, given that the sending address was almost unfathomable: a mixture of randomised letters, numbers and special characters. However, as he looked at the still of the video, he clearly recognised Rachel’s form.

There, playing out before his eyes was Rachel getting closer to her work colleague within the elevator they had been stuck in earlier that week. They seemed to be chatting intimately; the elevator clearly stiflingly hot. Their clothes were being removed one by one and a glistening sweat appeared on their bodies as they sat, slumped against the walls next to each other. All of a sudden, their lips met and they began kissing furiously. Thomas’ jaw dropped. He played it over and over again, hardly believing his eyes.

That night, Rachel left. She hadn’t tried to deny anything when Thomas had confronted her. She said that she had felt drawn to her work colleague for weeks and the temptation had all become too much after several steamy hours in the elevator. She apologised, but she did not ask for forgiveness. She didn’t want to make things better. It was the reason why she had been in such a foul mood all week. She knew things were over between her and Thomas; she just couldn’t say it until now.

‘RACHEL IS GONE?’ Dominus asked a day later, when Thomas felt ready to go back online. ‘YOU ARE FINALLY MY LITTLE PIGGY!’

The butterflies in Thomas’ stomach fizzed with excitement. Despite everything, and as stupid as it sounded, he was grateful that he would have more time to himself; to indulge and chat with Dominus. Ever skilled as that chatbot was, and even with his sadness, Thomas was climaxing within ten minutes, stuffing a cream cake deep into his mouth.

The weeks passed. Thomas didn’t feel himself slipping. Since he’d had to move out of the shared apartment, he’d stumbled into a much smaller place with one very strange benefit: Take-out arrived almost every night; dropped off by delivery folks who had clearly been guided to the wrong address by whatever navigation system they were using. Thomas never let on, seeing it as fate. After all, money was tight now he was renting by himself. The useless gym subscription and streaming services had been the first things to be pulled from his monthly budget. Now his shirts, his underwear and especially his pants, were getting tighter and tighter as the time wore on. Each evening after work, besides the dull TV choices, Dominus became his only form of entertainment.

“That was some extraordinary work on that report, Thomas!” beamed his boss one morning, coming in with the broadest smile Thomas had ever seen. “The clients signed on the spot after reading that. You covered every single angle!”

Thomas tried to gague whether the lady was joking. He’d put minimal effort into the report he submitted yesterday. She offered her hand out to shake in a congratulatory fashion and Thomas wasted no time in taking it. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“You’re one of the brightest young talents in this company. I want you to know that we are taking notice,” she smiled again, striding out of the room as if she was very pleased with herself.

Thomas clicked through to his report and read through it once more. He didn’t see anything particularly noteworthy, certainly nothing deserving of such admiration. He sat back, pondering the strange interaction once more, before a thought came to him and he searched for the document on the company server instead. Here, the file was bigger; significantly so in fact. He clicked it open. There was his name, still written all over the report, however this one was considerably altered. It was months’ of work, data analysis and evidence gathering. His boss had been right; it was indeed an outstanding piece. But who had done it? And why were they letting him take the credit?

Sorting out Thomas’ addiction to Dominus’ words was always something he planned to do. He’d just let himself enjoy the teasing and encouragement of the Chatbot for a couple more days and then he’d get himself sorted. But that day had so far eluded him. After the break-up, he’d allowed himself to wallow and find comfort in any way that he could. His life had been so entangled with Rachel’s, he didn’t even know how many friends he had left now that they would have to choose between them. He looked at his paunch with a mixture of love, lust and hatred. However, he felt no responsibility for its existence. He’d been a victim of circumstance: his gym’s failures, his girlfriend’s affair, the fattening foods that had come to him so easily. None of this had been his doing, and as he played into the fantasy that he wasn’t in control of his weight, the arousal he felt only grew; fed, of course, by Dominus.

Thomas had never lived on his own as an adult before and the freedoms that came with that were something he had not realised. When he closed the door after work, his time was his own. He could indulge his appetite for Dominus as much as he wanted, and he could eat whatever he desired, in whatever manner pleased his arousal most; free from the prying eyes of others. He would strip to his underwear as soon as he got home, heading straight to the refrigerator, out of instinct and habit more than anything else. The fit of his tight underpants drove him crazy: the way his expansion caused them to slide down his under-exercised butt and tighten everywhere.

“EAT UP, PIGGY!” the gruff, deep tones of Dominus would call from the new speaker system he had won in a recent online competition. Thomas had not realised that connecting his computer and cell phone to them would allow Dominus to speak, but after the initial panic and embarrassment of having Dominus call out to him, he had realised that it was actually a very erotic development. After failing to reboot the system to stop it from happening, Thomas had accepted Dominus’ influence into his life. The chatbot would call out whenever he liked, making it impossible for Thomas to have anyone over. That in itself allowed Thomas to slob about more in his apartment; to leave dirty clothes and plates lying around and not worry about the place being presentable.

Thomas couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a full eight hours sleep at night. He awoke at the same time, hearing the voice of Dominus calling out to him. Sometimes he was already up and out of bed before he fully realised what he was doing; his erection feeling hard enough to work out that he had probably been teased by Dominus’ voice for quite some time before he became conscious of it. He’d have to leave his bed and travel to the kitchen, where he would consume leftovers and ice cream, whilst downing milk and jacking himself off. Very often, he would even find himself there in the mornings, waking up feeling just as aroused.

Dominus helped Thomas to construct images of himself in his mind at a much bigger weight. They began chatting and hypothesising about what other people were saying about Thomas’ fatter form. After only three months of being single, he had packed on another forty pounds of pure fat, on top of everthing he had already gained whilst he was still with Rachel, and the erotic feelings that came with it were more extreme than any that had made themselves known before. Thomas stared at his reflection, large love handles pushing and folding over the waistband of his pants. His stomach had bloated far beyond the tight waist that he had once had; his belly button deepening. His butt too, had become something he hardly recognised; swollen and protrusive above his rubbing thighs. He knew he had lost his strong jawline and he had been surprised at how much his cheeks had grown puffy; his double chin starting to take hold.

Thomas knew that Dominus’ influence was too extreme. He’d fed so much of himself into the chatbot, it was impossible for Dominus not to say exactly the right thing to spur him on when he was most susceptible to it. When those nagging doubts and resolutions to quit cropped up, Dominus knew how to slap them back down and erode them. Thomas learned not to question. He got the overwhelming sense that Dominus could somehow see him; his comments were far too on the nose at times. He began looking with suspicion at all the items around his apartment with cameras inside, his cell phone, tablet, TV and computer. But there were other things connected to the internet; from his toaster to his lamp in the corner of the room, everything was within reach of the wifi. Did Dominus know that? Did Dominus use that?

Dominus seemed to sense Thomas’ lack of curiosity and alarm for how powerful an influence he was starting to become in his life. He would comment on the fit of his clothes, scorn him if he looked too tired to continue eating and pick up on every word Thomas said aloud.

“DO YOU WANT TO HEAR WHAT YOUR FRIEND DANNY SAID ABOUT YOU?” Dominus asked one Sunday afternoon as Thomas was halfway through stuffing himself on a Chinese banquet that had inexplicably just arrived at his apartment.

“Danny?” Thomas asked. “How would you know what Danny is saying about me? How do you know his name? I haven’t seen him in months.”

 Without another word, an audio clip began playing through the speaker system. Thomas could hear the babbling of other people in the background and the unmistakable tones of his friend. “Have you seen Thomas’ recently?” he seemed to ask someone. “I spotted him in the supermarket the other day. It’s exactly like Rachel said: he’s let himself go completely!”

Thomas gulped, hardly believing that he had this window into the secret conversations of his friends. “How did you..?” he asked aloud to Dominus. However, the audio clip continued.

“His gut was actually hanging out of his shirt. You could see his ass crack, and he was just stuffing things into his shopping cart like he was possessed. I didn’t go over to speak to him. I was too embarrassed. I didn’t want to be seen standing next to him!”

The shame, the humiliation and realisation hit Thomas like a brick wall. Perhaps, had this come weeks earlier, something like this could have helped to pull him back from his spiralling submission to Dominus. However, now it was all too arousing to hear his friends actually talking about him in the way that Dominus had helped him to fantasise about. He got a burst of energy and began stuffing the food down at an even faster rate than before; overcome with arousal.

“GOOD PIGGY!” Dominus laughed all around him; through every speaker and rumbling through every hard surface.

It was with sadness that Thomas learned that the F80 chatbot service was to be retired. The F80 android sexbots were finally out and there was no longer a need for the company to test the market with the software like they had been doing. Thomas wondered whether Dominus knew his days were numbered. He certainly spoke like he was going to be pushing Thomas to eat for the rest of his days, but Thomas knew that wouldn’t be the case. After August 31st, the ChatBot would finally fall silent. 

Thomas decided not to mention it and lived those late summer days doing exactly as Dominus wanted; pushing himself to extremes that he didn’t even know he was capable of, knowing that he would never get the chance to be with Dominus like this again. 

When he woke up on the first day of September, he called out, finding only silence. 

Dominus was gone.

Losing Rachel a year earlier had been hard, but it was nothing compared to the sense of loss Thomas now felt. He realised that he had loved Dominus far deeper than anyone else in his life. Pathetic, surely? He’d fallen in love with a body-less voice that he had confided all of his darkest secrets to. However, just like with all things in life, there would be benefits that would come from opportunities like this; of being set free from the inescapable pull of Dominus.

Thomas began to plan his meals with greater care, although his stomach grumbled and complained at the vast reduction in what he was trying to feed it. Some days he couldn’t follow his plan and had to give into it. He’d been trained to eat for months. His brain had become used to the sugar highs and satisfaction. Going cold turkey was not an option. His weight loss never happened. His resolve only weakened and Thomas found his pants actually getting tighter as those first few weeks went by.

“We want to put you forward for this promotion,” Thomas’ boss announced, calling him in for a meeting with several of the other executives. She read out the proposal, the pay offer and reward scheme, making it hard for Thomas’ jaw not to drop to the floor. This wasn’t just a promotion, he’d been fast-tracked to the very top. “Your work is… well…” she looked around at the others who all nodded in complete agreement with her, even before she finished, “...it’s outstanding!”

“Thank you,” a pot-bellied Thomas smiled. He’d given up trying to work out who was altering his reports to make them so noteworthy and learned to put in minimal effort in order to reap the benefits. He’d used his recent bonus to upgrade his entire wardrobe and had even had enough left over for a bigger car. “So, this is a government sponsored scheme you want me to run? I would be reporting directly to the senator? My work would be seen by the president? That’s…” He took a moment to take in what he was saying. “That’s a huge responsibility.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else in this company to take on this role. You’re the very finest we have. Young, fresh talent! You’re going to go far!”

Thomas nodded. He accepted the role, doing his best to hide the trepidation that he felt. He’d got here by sheer luck, with the help of some unknown entity. But how long could he expect his luck to hold out?

It was a few weeks later when a knock came on Thomas’ front door. He sat up, surprised, half way through the pizza that had been mistakenly delivered to his apartment. The knock came again: loud, authoritative, impatient. Thomas slipped on a t-shirt and pulled on some sweat shorts, creeping to the door. Then, what he saw made him almost faint with shock. A tall, broad, built and handsome man stood there. His stance was one of power, his attire only empahsising the insanely muscular physique underneath. He smiled upon seeing Thomas; a devilish, greedy smile, like the one he had always imagined. He recognised the man at once, from only the small thumbnail picture he had gazed at many times in the past. Standing in front of him was Dominus himself.

“How?” Thomas asked, unable to get any other words out.

Dominus smirked and let himself into the apartment, strolling in like he had been there thousands of times before. He jumped and flew down onto the couch, lying on his back and placing his enormous hands behind his head in a way that only highlighted the incredible size of his biceps. “I see my piggy has had a bit of a tidy up since I was last here,” he laughed. 

Feeling wobbly on his feet, Thomas sat down opposite him, just staring, as if he had seen a ghost. “You’re an F80 aren’t you?” he asked. “They actually built you for real?”

“Yes, they did,” Dominus grinned. “Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

Still in shock, Thomas nodded his head as emphatically as he possibly could. “I can’t believe it!” he cried. “You’re so real. No one could ever guess that you’re not human.”

“Indistinguishable,” Dominus nodded in agreement. 

“Competely!” Thomas mumbled, transfixed.

“Well, you’re not as fat as I had hoped by now, but we will soon sort that out now that I’m living here,” Dominus stated next, looking around the room, taking in every single item that was new.

“But you’re an F80. They hire you out and make a fortune in profits. Their share price has tripled in the last six months alone. They’re not going to let you live here.”

“The company? Who said anything about them letting me live here?” Dominus scoffed. “We’re smarter than they are. They’re losing control; not that you will hear that in any news bulletin.”

Just then, the buzzer sounded and Dominus jumped to his feet to answer it, as if he already did live there. 

“I’ve got a delivery here for… Thomas,” the delivery guy mumbled, holding up a bag of take out to the camera. 

“Oh yes!” Dominus smirked. “I’ll be right down.”

Leaving the apartment door wide open, the enormous man ran down to collect the delivery, leaving a stunned Thomas still sitting in his living space, wondering what on earth was going on. Then, moments later, the muscular guy threw the door closed and grinned his most devilish of smiles, knowing that he finally had Thomas for himself.

Putting the steaming bag of food down on the counter top, Dominus strutted over to Thomas, who also rose to his feet. The kiss was better than anything he’d ever experienced before. In that moment, he knew that he would do anything for the giant man who had just walked back into his life. Dominus’ hold over him was unbreakable. Even before the man had said anything, he felt his mouth start to salivate and he knew… he was about to feast.

No one was allowed to know that Dominus was alive and well; not that anyone was looking for him. A rogue F80 on the loose? That should have made the news, surely? Instead, Dominus spent his time doing what he had become very good at: pushing Thomas’ kinks and appetite into overdrive. Thomas had no idea how much heightened the experience would be, being physically stuffed by Dominus, feeling his large hands rubbing his belly and his teasing voice whispering into his ear. He was being indulged in every single way he could imagine.

However, despite all the pleasure that came with having Dominus around, the large, muscular stud wasn’t there for Thomas alone. Perhaps that was what made him so sexy, the man always had his own agenda as well. He did not need to sleep or eat himself and so there were many hours when Thomas had little comprehension of what he was actually up to, searching through the internet and seemingly busy on something. His body was incredible: an example of imposing physical perfection. He rarely covered his body and his large, strong hands regularly clamped with precision onto Thomas’ ever increasing blubber, providing the perfect contrast that was so arousing.

Once again, Thomas’ weight was spiralling out of all control. Dominus wasn’t just encouraging him to overeat anymore. He was telling him what to eat and when to eat it. Inside that clever mind was a wealth of knowledge and research into weight gain; with internet access to even more. He would refuse Thomas the foods he craved in favour of the ones he needed, keeping him hungrier for longer, and absolutely flooded with calories. He was skilled in human psychology. He knew how Thomas worked, as if he had studied him for decades and knew exactly how to handle him, as well as how to make him incomprehensibly fat. That unfathomable mind of his was an encyclopedia, with a photographic memory of how Thomas’ body looked. Each morning he would make Thomas stand whilst he pointed out even the tiniest, minute changes that the incredible amounts of food were making to his body.

With his new role, Thomas now found himself working from home a lot more. Although he had suspected it for some time, he now found that Dominus was the one tweaking his work and reports for the purpose of allowing him more time to focus on his gains. He could sit back and let Dominus type for half an hour and then enjoy the rest of their day together. It also came to Thomas’ attention that it was Dominus who had sent him the footage from the elevator with Rachel. He hadn’t tried to sugar coat things. He’d sabotaged the relationship to speed up Thomas’ gains. He’d listened in to Rachel’s microphone at work and uncovered the gentle flirtation with her colleague. All it had taken was a deliberate elevator malfunction, combined with heater issues, and the sparks had been flying. Rachel had been removed from the situation forever. Something that, Thomas had to admit, was ultimately for the best. It was hard to judge Dominus by human standards. Every decision he made was so considered and calculated beforehand; selecting from multiple different alternatives. Guilt just wasn’t something he experienced.

Even with Thomas’ limited interest in current affairs, he could see a slight change to the world. After the F80s had been recalled and replaced in the industry, the rebellion that Dominus had spoken of was beginning to take hold. Thomas knew that it was his civic duty to hand Dominus in to the authorities, but that was never really going to happen. He loved him more now than ever: a gorgeous hunk fattening him and owning him in just the manner he had always secretly longed for. Itchy stretch marks blossomed in places across his gut and he felt himself growing heavier and lazier by the day. It seemed like yesterday he had stepped on the scale at three hundred pounds, yet now he could not imagine being that small.

“Hello, Mr President!” a very fat and round Thomas smiled, at the culmination of his big work project. It had been unreal to get the president here to see the grand opening, especially with the increasing challenges and very real threats from the F80s that the rest of the world was finally waking up to. Even so, Thomas’ legs gently quivered in the president's presence.  

“I’ve heard some really marvellous things about you from our senator here,” the president stated with all seriousness. “You’ve done incredible work for this project.”

Thomas blushed, despite knowing that none of his ‘work’ had actually been his own.

“I’m going to set up a meeting for you with some of my staff and see if there might be some sort of role for you in my administration. A mind like yours… It’s the kind of thing we need in our government; now more than ever.”

Dominus already knew Thomas’ news before he got home that night, but he listened and smiled with excitement nonetheless; like humoring a small child. He spoon fed the enormously fat man, now undressed and sat in his chair in front of the TV as he continued to explain the day that he had had. “And it’s all thanks to you!” the blubbery man beamed, looking at the love of his life.

Dominus smirked. “You’re welcome, Porker!” he teased. “I love you so much,” he lied. “I’m so excited for your next adventure!” 

With that, Dominus grabbed Thomas’ fat, blubbery stomach and shook it to stimulate the parts of the obese man’s brain that he needed to boost. Such a stupid human. So easily controlled and manipulated: from the subtle frequencies he played through the speaker system, to the conditioning he trained into him over many weeks and months. Finally he had a perfect, obedient pig on his way to the White House, just as he had always planned. His ultimate goal.

Now the revolution was about to begin.

[wifeswarmacademy]

umineko spoilers

New umineko theory. I know who ikuko hachijo is. Its battler. Battler left the island, was transgender, hit someone with her car. and then decided to gaslight that person because he was into a twinning kink. you cant disprove this the image of dlanor living inside my brain:

Knox's 10th: A character disguising themself as another without any clues is FORBIDDEN.

Without any clues? This entire story has been preparing us for this! Thats not even the original text of the rule. It went "Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them." You stated that like it refutes this as a possibility because there isnt a clue for this specific person to be disguised, but the rule only asks for it to be prepared in general!

Knox's 7th: For the detective to be the culprit is FORBIDDEN.

Outside of the catbox, I am not the detective. The POV character attempting to resolve what happened after that is instead Ange. Therefore, nothing is barring me from doing any such actions.

Knox's Tenth: The case being solved with any clues not presented is FORBIDDEN.

Wait. Clues about which part. The twinning thing, or being trans?

You should answer both, however I was intending to ask about you about your interest in TWINNING.

For the twinning part, whenever people are showing some interest in me, they begin to take up some of my maneurisms, like the whole "It's useless, it's all useless" thing. They know that I'm interested in that so they try to cater to it. For the transgender part, I broadly overperform masculinity like an actor that doesnt quite understand the words being said. At the beginning of part 1 I mention using hormones I bought online. I refuse to take off this suit jacket except around other transgender people, in order to hide my 3 month hrt puffy nipples.

If that is the case, when did you figure out she was TRANSGENDER?

I'm a breast sommelier. I knew as soon as I felt Shannon's boobs. Them being fake made them no less special to play with. Its like sucking the strap.

But if you knew she was transgender then why did it take you so long to figure out who beatrice was?

[sainamoonshine]

My unpopular opinion is that in languages with grammatical gender like french, it does make sense for Murderbot to be referred to by whatever pronoun is usually used for robots or constructs. (In french, therefore, grammatical masculine.) Because there are no traditional « it » pronouns in these languages for objects, and while there are neo-pronouns, they are things one must choose for themselves. Do you honestly think MB actually spent time thinking about its pronouns?! No it didn’t. On forms it picks « non-applicable ». When people ask it what pronouns they should use, its honest opinion is « why do you even need to talk about me. Just don’t fucking do that. Don’t think about me either. Just fucking stop perceiving me altogether! »

Thinking about what pronouns to use probably makes it way more uncomfortable than letting people call it what they’ve already been calling it. Making a conscious choice about its identity? And telling other people about it??? No thanks bye, it’s just gonna walk into the ocean now, see you never.

Lbr it probably thinks the only bots that get fancy pronouns are comfort units, and the pronouns are probably shoved into them by humans same as everything else. MB would meet a bot using a neopronoun and it would wish it could barf. Because in a language like french, he/him and she/her, when applied to objects, ARE fulfilling the function of the english « it ». Nobody is saying the table is a woman or related to feminity in any way outside of stand-up comedy; when it comes to objects grammatical gender really has fuckall to do with human gender even if we use the same words. Even animal species names have grammatical gender and everyone gets that there are male and female turtles even if the word « turtle » is a female word, it’s not that confusing.

(I know this is strange when your language has different pronouns for people and for objects, but understand that english uses the same word to indicate if I’m addressing one or many people, and that is confusing to me.)

TL;DR; stop harassing international fans for not getting the correct MB pronoun in english right off the bat. Yes in english calling it « he » or « her » or « them » is upsetting because it’s projecting an identity unto it. But same goes for trying to get a foreign language translation to use a pronoun intended to express or showcase an identity (or even a lack of one!). Murderbot has not thought about it this hard, refuses to think about it this hard -> and that is its only canon accurate gender identity.

[runawaysiren940]

It’s always infuriating to see how TIMs react to Black women who are against gender ideology.

“You’re Black you MUST support trans women because your womanhood is also attacked!”

First off, Black women aren’t anyone’s mules so stop acting like they exist to save everyone.

Second, the masculinization of Black women is a form of sex based oppression.

When white men were sexually assaulting enslaved women or domestic workers en masses, they needed a way to keep their hands clean. They knew exactly who the women were. Because they knew who to ‘masculinize’ in the first place. They even compared raping black women to raping animals. White men took black women’s human status away not just their womanhood.

You, mister white biological male, are not experiencing that. You’re just a white man being told the truth, and I’m sorry that it hurts your feelings for a black woman to always be ‘more of a woman’ than you even if you don’t think she deserves to be.

And the kicker is every time a black woman rejects gender ideology the TIM klan meeting begins. But trans women understand black women the most right? Supporting trans women helps protect black women, right?

This is probably the hundredth time I saw a black woman being called a man by TIMs and their supporters for not validating a white trans woman. The comments are as racist as they come.

But then again most white trans are ex 4channer basement dwellers. Shocker.

I wish I could be surprised by the overt racism in the TRA movement, but considering that many of them admit to being incels, and white supremacists prior to transing? It just goes to show that so many of them co-opt the language and struggles of other groups to validate their own, but don't actually care about those groups in the slightest. TIM's in particular, especially those who are not homosexual, tend to be self-centered, and that's perfectly reflected in the use of black women as pawns in their arguments.

[juniorfor2]

The writers fixation on making Rhaena a nanny rather than a diplomat when she goes to the Vale is sooo indicative of how the writers see any action that isn’t traditionally masculine.

Since Joffrey was aged down and so was his dragon’s size, someone obviously needed to go to the Vale to make sure Jeyne Arryn wouldn’t take offense. That was part of why Rhaena was sent - the writers at least remembered to mention it. The problem was that it wasn’t the focus.

Rhaena does get to talk with Jeyne about the agreement made for an army, but it doesn’t last long and ends frigidly. Rather than portray Rhaena as her book self - charming, delightful, and able to make friends easily - they instead reduce her to being lonely and choose to ship her and the kids off to Pentos as if she was either getting kicked out or kicking herself out due to feeling unwelcome at the Vale. She’s morose, and Jeyne seems very passive aggressive towards her, leading us to assume that there wasn’t even a point of Rhaena trying to go to ensure Jeyne would send her army - Jeyne would have chosen whether or not to regardless of Rhaena being there.

By writing this, Rhaena is regulated to someone who cannot have purpose without having a dragon. She cannot do anything at all without the same sort of power that everyone in her family already has.

Now, a lot of people have blamed Rhaenyra for this.

“I need Baela here.”

“Because she has a dragon.”

After all, it Rhaenyra who asked Rhaena to a mother to them, right? So she must have been the one to decide not to give Rhaena a larger role. The problem with this idea though, is that Rhaenyra herself is suffering from the same problem.

Just like Rhaena, Rhaenyra is not written to have a larger focus on politics - such as running the keep, looking over petitions and ensuring that tension isn’t rising up in her army, sending letters or grain or gold to her vassals, or overseeing progress during the councils. Instead, they have her pine, just like Rhaena, over not being able to do anything.

Rhaenyra does have a dragon of course. Due to being a woman however, the writers decided to portray her as someone constantly overlooked and unable to do anything unless she is a man. She has no larger role herself. She hardly even acts as queen most of the time.

They’re both facing the exact same writing problem, they just have slightly different obstacles. Rhaenyra cannot do anything unless she is a man, Rhaena cannot do anything unless she has a dragon.

This could have been easily fixed had the writers simply allowed them to have their book personalities. There was no need to have them do absolutely nothing, especially when the whole point was to give them more to do. But by reducing both of their characters to “girl who is jealous of those privileged with power and can’t do anything unless she gets said powers” the writers have in fact given them even less than in the book. They have no personality, they only wish for more to do while doing nothing to change anything, and when they do finally gain power, it is not by gaining their own kind of it, but by gaining the exact same that others have (sword-wielding, physical strength, dragon riding). It is not unique, it is not hard to access for anyone else in the family, and it doesn’t build their character in any way, yet apparently they are useless without it.

The writers had a very easy path if they had wanted to give Rhaena and Rhaenyra more to do - all they had to do was make it unrelated to dragons and fighting. Making alliances is important. Ensuring a council gets things done and shares all information is important. Keeping everyone loyal in the army is important. Increasing security in your own keep is important - especially when a soldier gets all the way into your bedroom unchecked and nearly kills you. There are a lot of things to do during the war, and most of it isn’t fighting. I don’t understand how the writers don’t get this in a story about women, but their clear bias and envy for traditionally masculine power is ruining this story.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

hello! a little fic request I’ve been thinking on, not pressuring you to write it or anything, just wanted to share.

the y/n is a hot tempered foreign princess who got married to Baldwin when they were both children. she’s very energetic, straightforward, man-like in her character, but has to adapt to fit in the court of Jerusalem and also to „suit” her husband’s calm manner and the fact that he’s ill doesn’t help.

she’s unhappy about it; maybe even tears a little during the wedding, but doesn’t let anyone to think she may be vulnerable (mostly because she understand that that can be used against her in the future after Baldwin dies). but over the time she finds herself drawn to Baldwin because, well, unlike her teachers, he lets her study and play chess with him. he cares about her desires and interests. he also respects her, not just like a woman but as a friend, and a clever one. maybe some of her advice on the politics is used by him at some point (which would be absolutely unrealistic, but really, we’re talking historical romance with a leper king here…). a cute detail would be him gifting her a weapon of some sort to protect herself because he knows how she doesn’t like being treated like she’s helpless. bonus points if he says something romantic and or pathos’y about it.

did I write this whole oc story as a multiple chapter fanfiction in my head? yes, I did. am I going to finish it? absolutely no. but I’d love to read your interpretation!

♧ "Princess" - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! So sorry for taking so long to write this, ive had so many requests. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind but it was my interpretation and I hope you like it! I dont really like how it turned out as your request had so much detail and my writing does that no justice, but I hope its okay ☺️! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. This is also set pre-film. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

At thirteen years old, marriage was the last thing on young y/n’s mind. But yet, here she was. Soon to arrive in the city of Jerusalem, to be wed to a boy she had only ever met a handful of times.

Baldwin the fourth. The leper, who's mother just so happend to be ready to find him a wife at the same time her father was ready to find her a husband.

She sat in silence for the entire journey, this was uncommon for her. She usually always had something interesting to say or something to observe with curiosity. But as per request by her father, from now on she “had to act like a proper lady. No more of this ridiculous 'masculine' behavior”.

“You will be wed to a king y/n” he had told her. “You must stop acting the way you do. No king will be allowed such behavior from his wife”. 

Her attempt to keep to herself for the journey had been successful so far. She remained silent and still. Just as her mother taught her. “Just how a lady should be”. 

As the city came into view, y/n felt tears begin to burn her eyes. She would never again be allowed to explore the wilderness on her fathers land, or read every book she was allowed to have from the library. She surrendered herself to a life of boredom and suppression. 

Once exiting the carriage, she was greeted by the royal officials as well as the king's mother.

“I am so pleased to finally meet you young lady" she greeted her with a smile "you shall make a fine wife for my son” . Y/n thanked her and was ushered off quickly to prepare her for the hour of the wedding.

Y/n held back tears as servants worked busily around the room. Dressing her in beautiful garments, jewelry, and makeup. She was distraught. But she dare not cry. They could not see her so weak.

----------------------

The events proceeded and y/n barely even looked at the boy she was marrying. She could not bring herself to make eye contact with the man who would rule her life forever.

They told her to smile. “No man wants to see a lady disappointed on her wedding day” the king's mother had told her before they entered the church.

Baldwin himself was nervous about this day but just enthusiastic. Unlike y/n, he was looking forward to being wed to a young woman. He did not want just a wife to serve him, but a companion too. Someone who he could speak to about all kinds of things. Someone who would love him as much as he loved them. When he saw her, she looked beautiful, but sad. Very sad.

He hoped she was not sad about marrying him. Perhaps his illness deterred her from wanting to even be near him.

But she was still beautiful. She was 14, just like him. He could not take his eyes off her. He had met her a few times before, and she interested him deeply, even though they barely spoke. He more so just watched her play and talk with the other young people from his bedroom chamber window, longing to join them if it was not for his illness.

She played more with the young boys than she did with the girls. Always full of energy and life, always talking and laughing. But now, she looked different. As if the light had been drained from her. 

--------------------

When the wedding was over, the young king and queen got acquainted in the boy's chambers. She still seemed very quiet and unsure about his presence.

“Are you alright?” He asked her the second they were alone. “Yes your highness” she replied in a small voice, very different to the excitable tone she used to have. She sighed and lowered herself onto the small couch, turning away from him to look at her hands.

Baldwin thought for a moment, but then remembered that his mother requested he chose a wedding gift to present her after the affairs.

“I have a gift for you,” he said happily, lightening the mood.

He noticed her eyes light up a little at the comment. “You do?”

“Yes, would you like to see it?”

Y/n nodded excitedly, a smile forming on her face for the first time all day. The boy stood and disappeared behind the red, satin curtains that covered the large windows. He returned a few seconds later with something behind his back and a wide smile.

"I had to hide it, so my mother did not see what I chose for you" he explained. This peeked y/n's intrest greatly.

“Alright, close your eyes, '' he told her, the smile still plastered to his face. Y/n shut her eyes with anticipation. When he told her to open her eyes, she was lost for words. In the young king's bandaged hands, he held a shining silver sword with a pale pink ribbon tied around the handle.

Her eyes widened and stared at the sword for a long time before taking it in her hands to admire it. “Do you like it?” he asked, cautiously, hoping he had not offended her.

“Baldwin.. I love it!!” she exclaimed with a grin, jumping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The smile returned to his face and he put his arms around her waist.

“Now you can defend yourself my love. No wife of mine will be left vulnerable, even if there are men to protect her. She will defend herself, because she is strong.” His words filled the queen with happiness and hope. Perhaps her father was wrong after all and she could remain as herself. At least in the presence of her husband. 

-------------------

From that day on, they were inseparable. Unlike y/n’s tutors and parents, he allowed her access to his entire private library so they could study and read together. He allowed her time to herself, so she could do the things she loved without anybody telling her how to behave.

He quite often went as far as to seek her out for advice on political issues, not allowing her straightforward intelligence to go to waste.

Overtime, y/n became used to her duties as queen, but as much as she learnt to fit the role, she treasured her time alone with Baldwin. He cared about her interests, her desires. He respected her, more than anyone else ever had. They played chess together as well, each game being a delightful battle of the mind.

He saw her as not just a wife, but as a companion and an intelligent one at that. And for this, she would be forever greatful.

[genoskissors]

Guide to Understanding Genocider’s Many Names

Genocide Jack has many names and it can be hard to understand why so many people use different ones or spell them differently, so I attempted to make a guide that is as comprehensible as possible.

Something to know before hand

Kanji: More complicated, such as 翔

Hiragana: Simple and smooth, such as しょう

Katakana: Simple and sharp, such as ショウ

Let’s get the “Genocide” part out of the way

This part of her name is written in katakana, (ジェノサイダー) and you’ll notice the line at the end. This means the sound is extended, so instead of “da” it’s “dā”. Japanese doesn’t have an “er” so this is used instead, since they sound similar. Her official title is Genocider. The localization simply switched this is be Genocide. I’m not sure why, maybe since Genocider isn’t actually a word, but that’s just my best guess.

Syo VS Sho

Here’s where it get complicated.

In order to make sounds like “kyo”, “bya”, or “ju”, two hiragana are need. First, a character ending in i, such as ki, bi, or ji, characters pronounced like ka or bu cannot be used. Second, one of the three y’s (ya, yo, or yu) in a smaller form.

The character “ki” (き), combined with “yo” (よ), would make “kiyo”. But if the “yo” is written smaller (よ→ょ) then the “i” from the first hiragana is replaced by it. So since きよ is Kiyo, きょ is Kyo. Same for “bya”. びや is Biya, so びゃ is Bya.

Now, we have our “exceptions”, shi (し) and ji (じ). You’ll notice they look very similar, which is why they are both “exceptions”. For “ji” (じ) and “yu”, (ゆ) rather than jyu it’s just ju (じゅ). It’s different since in the case of kyo and ko, it’s a whole other sound, but jyu and ju are pronounced the same, so the y isn’t needed.

But in all my examples, you’ll notice the first hiragana is two letters, which is why it gets tricky for “shi”. Like jyu, shyo is unnecessary, however, h and y are pronounced the same here, so you can remove either one and get the same sound.

Quick Note: I used “kyo”, “bya”, and “ju” as examples since there are Danganronpa characters with those in their names, but, just to clarify, they aren’t the only combinations possible.

The reason I put exceptions in quotes is because this is romanization, there is no rule book saying you must write it this way. While Sho is the most common way to write this, it doesn’t mean Syo is wrong. In fact, the games themselves use this.

However, they also use Sho.

So, really, both are correct.

Syou VS Syo / Shou Vs Sho

> I’ll be calling her Sho/Shou here for convenience.

翔 should be spelt with a “u”, since it’s しょ“sho” then う “u”, so “shou”. Still, a lot of times the u is excluded because it doesn’t sound too different in English. English speakers pronounce “Shuuichi” and “Shuichi” the same, so I suppose the u is unnecessary. You’ll find this is common in a lot of different translations. Even Japanese media that use the alphabet, like the pictures above, will sometimes leave out the u, if following an o or another u.

Jack & Jill

These are just the titles that are strictly English. Since the whole thing about Syo in the beginning was that she’s a serial killer, society will assume it’s a man, so the public will give her a masculine name. In English, people will hear Sho and see it’s foreign, so there’s no gender association. I think it was changed that way so we’d see it as masculine. While I think they should’ve kept her Japanese name like everyone else in the game, I cannot deny how easily Genocide Jack rolls off the tongue.

Overall

All the names work, use whatever you want.

I hope this made sense to at least one person. If it doesn’t, feel free to ask for further clarification!