Tumgik
#it’s more than just a show and more than just a fandom and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever been apart of
doctorbunny · 2 days
Text
More serious summary of the livestream
Unfortunately I can't provide a full translation because the entire time I was watching in autistic excitement like 😊🥰🤩 whilst my brain melted out my ears and didn't pick up on a lot
Luckily, I have a feeling someone will get around to translating this stream eventually since they finally had the BGM on a lower volume so everyone was audible the whole time Without further ado:
We started with introductions seating order is Yamanaka, Yurina (Es' VA), Minami (Amane's VA), Ryouta (Kazui's VA) and DECO (who dyed his hair blonde) They each have one of the 4th anniversary acrylic stands in front of them The actors have their characters but Yamanaka has Haruka and DECO has Muu
Tumblr media
Yamanaka admitted to being a Haruka oshi/fan
Then Minami talks about being a Fuuta fan (she calls him cool) and she's handed the Fuuta stand and she pushes the Fuuta and Amane stand next to each other (and jokes about their height difference then imitates Fuuta going zenbu zenbu zenbu!)
Tumblr media
But then Yurina sticks her Es stand in between them to separate them
Tumblr media
And then they move the Amane stand next to the Kazui one and everyone coos
Tumblr media
Before moving Amane and Fuuta back together in front of Minami Then they basically just lift all of the stands up on to the table and continue on
Tumblr media
They discuss their thoughts on the trial
Tumblr media
Looking at who got voted inno and guilty Minami is happy Amane got inno but has no idea how Mikoto wasn't guilty They note that the audience wasn't very happy with Kotoko for beating up the other prisoners Then they give some thoughts on the MVs from Daisuki to Deep cover They get most excited talking about Cat and Purge March Kazui says that he was able to put the right emotions into Cat because he recorded the voice drama first Yurina and Minami actually caused the microphone to peak with their excited shrieks at one point (ow)
They answer some audience submitted questions One question was answered along the lines of "Be prepared" One was submitted in English and they tried to but couldn't read it Then they got a question (in Japanese) from someone from 韓国/South Korea [side note: I feel like the south korean milgram fandom has gotten more prominent recently, its always been there but it feels bigger than ever and that's pretty cool]
After audience questions they made a few announcements Some things we already knew, the gratte cafe crossover, the Kotoko line stickers, Earbuds are still on sale (and they're making badges and stuff based on the earbud promo art) the 4th anniversary art/acrylici stands literally in front of them Then some new things: Minigram LINE stamps (everyone was especially pleased for the Kazui XP stamp) There's going to be a part 2 to the Karaoke collab (no details yet other than its coming)
They also announce this year's perk for annual members [the pain of being an annual member but living outside of Japan so you can't get these 😭] Blank lamenated cards of the prisoner's interrogations and a whiteboard pen so you can write your own interro questions and answers They bring out the cards for Kazui and Amane and do some examples
Tumblr media
"Do you like cake?" "I don't eat it."
Tumblr media
"What did you have for lunch today?" "Gyudon." [a beef and rice dish]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Then Minami just writes "Toilet paper" in katakana and everyone laughs (Then she writes Toilet paper rap/lap/wrap and I'm not sure what she means)
Most exciting is script books for the Hallucenation liveshow (scripts of the voice dramas and songs) The live show uses condensed versions of the voice dramas but this is the first time we'll have official transcripts of key moments to help check translations with
Then they start saying that T2 was hellish, but T3 is going to go beyond hell: They're going to send everyone to Super Hell And at this point my brain fries and overloads on eeby deeby memes as they all go back and forth talking about Super Hell
They all start doing their outros/saying goodbye
Yurina talks about upcoming challenges we have as guards meanwhile Yamanaka ominously holds the Haruka stand up in frame
Tumblr media
Then that's basically it, not much going on because a lot of stuff (like Hallucenation, the plushes, earbuds) came out right before the 4th anniversary
172 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 16 hours
Text
Toxic as Rads
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @silverose365
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes
Word Count: 1,307
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.
Tumblr media
“Damnit Coop! I am so sick and tired of running in these damn circles.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be chasin’ your own bullshit.”
This had been going on for hours now. The couple had holed up in an abandoned facility that was still somehow standing after all the years, and bombs. Neither one could remember what this argument was about this time, but that is how they worked. They would fight. They would make up. And they would do it all again the next day.
It did not used to be like this though. They used to be happy, and in love.
~
“Listen, I just need someone to show me the ropes. I was thrown out here and I don’t wanna die.” A feminine voice pleaded with a cowboy that was busy walking away.
“Don’t do charity cases, darlin’. Not even if they’re cute like you, Vaultie.” His voice was growing more and more distant.
“Hey! Ghoul, you want this back?” Turning back around, Cooper found that she was holding a gun, and a box of chems. Patting himself down, he found that he was missing one of his guns, and his box of chems. He marched right up to the girl with a low growl.
“Gimme that, little girl. You don’t know what that’s gonna do.” He tried to get his effects back, but what unsuccessful. Cooper tried again, and finally got them back, but she just swiped his hat off of his head while his hands were full.
“Listen here, I don’t do no damn charity cases.” The Ghoul grabbed his hat back once he had stashed his gun and chems.
“Please. I’m really good at stealing. I can get you anything you want.” She begged once more, looking close to getting on her knees.
“Anything I want?” He pressed, watching in amusement as her head nodded up and down fast.
“Alright, Vaultie. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He turned on his heel and left, smirking as the vault dweller was hot on them to follow.
~
“Coop, I am tired of this shit. Can you just trust me to do a job, or do fuckin’ anything?” She screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.
“Well then maybe you should make it easy and go. Not like I expected a damn vault dweller to stay around me like a lost puppy.” He thought to himself, but did not realize that he had actually said it aloud. Cooper watched as the horror morphed into melancholy on her face. With her face, he finally realized his mistake.
“Darlin’, now I didn’t mean that. Come here.” Cooper tried to gather her in his arms, but she slipped out faster than him. She ran around the room and collected her items that were strewn about, trying to get them on faster than Cooper could get to her.
“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant. I was just upset. Please let’s talk this through. No need to do anything rash.” But she had bolted out the front door before he ever got there, and ran into the night. Howard tried to follow her, but there was a reason she was good at stealing; she was also amazing at not being found. Looking out into the night sky, Cooper screamed to the heavens, although he knew no one would hear his call of despair. Retreating back into the building, he threw, kicked, and hit anything he could get his hands on. Once his rage had been exhausted, Cooper made sure he had all of his gear with him, before he set out into the night.
By day three, he was pissed. Cooper should be proud; he had trained her on how to survive in the Wasteland and avoid detection. But this was him, using his own tracking skills to track down on someone he had personally trained. The fact that she was staying a step a head was impressive and infuriating. He had followed her near a settlement; a very familiar settlement. This was the same town that he had gotten her from all those years ago. It was a little more rundown, but the structures still stood as strong as they could.
“God damnit woman.” Cooper knelt down to collect a familiar pouch that held a vintage camera with a little bit of film left. They had found it together their first year traveling together and she took every opportunity to get pictures together. He knew the negatives on that film were all of him, or of them together. Why she dropped it, he did not know. But it could not have been a good reason. Strapping it into his own pouch on his saddle bag, Cooper made his way around the town. People moved out of his way as he moved, but he could not find her there. If she came all the way back here, why was she still avoiding him?
That is when a thought came into his head. Leaving the designated town, Howard stalked along the sides, and found a house on the outskirts. This house had remained abandoned the entire time he had been coming here for some reason or another. He did not particularly care to remember why it remained empty. There was a shift of fabric that he could hear from the front door. Making his way into the house, Cooper heard the soft sniffles and quiet cries of his woman as he grew closer and closer to the bedroom.
The door was halfway open, which meant he could not have snuck up on her even if he wanted to. And the sight inside made his heart hurt. She was curled up on the bed with blankets and pillows. It looked more like a nest than a bed, but she found herself in the middle of it all.
“Go away.” Her voice was hoarse as it tried to spit out and sound meaner than she actually sounded.
“Now, I think you don’t really want that darlin’.” Cooper replied, placing his hat on the bedpost at the foot of the bed/nest situation.
“You don’t know what I want. Besides, I’m just some stupid vault dweller who follows you around like a lost puppy. Figured you’d be having a damn party with me gone.” Turning further and further away, the scratch to her voice almost made it like a growl. Howard shrugged off his duster and threw the rest of his guns, belts, and bags into a chair in the corner before encroaching upon her space. She tried to push him off, but he kept wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his chest.
“I’m sorry for what I said, darlin’. Didn’t mean what I said.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, and squeezed her closer while her arms dropped in defeat.
“I just don’t understand why you would say that if you didn’t mean it.” She lamented.
“Was just angry darlin’. Not at you. Just- we’ve been fightin’ a lot. We never used to and it seems every day we’re findin’ somethin’ to get pissed off about.” He replied, settling into the comfortable bed.
“I know. ‘M sorry for running. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.” Rolling over, she tucked her face into Cooper’s chest and smushed them closer together.
“No need to apologize sweetheart,” came his response. He pressed another kiss, this time to her forehead, and started to stroke her hair.
“Oughta redden your ass though. Makin’ me chase you all over this damn desert.” Cooper teased, his gloved hand reaching down to give her rear a teasing squeeze.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ghoul.” She teased back, snuggling in closer. They were not perfect, that was for certain. But from that point forward, they would be doing better.
136 notes · View notes
Text
I wanna talk about all my fav ATLA ships cuz being a multishipper can suck sometimes
I wanna look at ship tags and not see hate for another ship in them
SPREAD THE LOVE
KatAang: Classic friends to lovers. Couples who commit ecoterrorism together stay together
TAang: She was a punk He did ballet what more can I say. But like actually they're so fun to analyze with what we have in canon, they legit give soulmate vibes.
ZuTara: SHOT THROUGH THE HEART another fun one to analyze, opposites attract/enemies to lovers it's a good time
KaToph: They're defined by overcoming their "weaknesses" Katara fought for her right to be a master despite her gender and became one of the most powerful benders because of her will to fight. Toph literally invented a whole new bending style BECAUSE of her blindness. Love them
MaiLee: Bad bitches deserve bad bitches, we love a sunshine and sunshine protector. They're fighting styles compliment each other as do their personalities
MaiKo: 'I love Zuko more than I fear you" will never not be the hardest line in the show. *doesn't care she got pickles* "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU SHE SAID NO PICKLES"
Ty Luki: I just want Suki to show TyLee the ropes of being a kyoshi warrior. The have so much they can teach each other also if you like the Airbender! TyLee headcanon there's something poetic about her unlocking her powers with kyoshi's fans
YueTara: MOON AND OCEAN NEED I SAY MORE
ZUe (I actually don't know their ship name) we in rare pair hell but SUN AND MOON NEED I SAY MORE also applies to Yue x Azula you guys come up with the coolest scenarios that put the either fire sibling in the north pole, this fandom is so creative
ZuKKi: Let Sokka pull lol but actually a King and His Guard and King and his Ambassador, it's like Sukka is great but make it better
Mai TyLee and Suki should be a bigger ship cuz I swear I'm the only one that sees it (help me name them)
Tell me about your favorite ATLA ships I freaking love these characters and I love when they love each other
103 notes · View notes
Note
Can I request a Gojo x male reader that owns a cafe. Reader is having an event for his cafe where if someone gets a special item in their dessert (like idk a cherry or something) he would make them a custom dessert. Gojo, who had won the competition, requested to have Olive as his dessert. (Olive and Gojo do know each other, so it's nit like Gojo is a stranger requesting this lol. If you choose this request then thank you <3
Consider it done~ And for the sake of not naming the reader, I won't be using the name Olive but the relationship can remain.
Tumblr media
Title: Sweet Tooth
Characters: Gojo x m!reader
Contains: heated/sensual make out
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Full request below the cut
All characters are 18+
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI
Reblogs > likes
"Congratulations! You won a custom dessert!"
Behind shaded lenses, Gojo blinked in reaction to the announcement. "Hah?"
You handed him a specialized card in both hands, a small one made of easy to punch paper. "A custom dessert! It's an event I'm holding. People who order a specific item from the menu get a special dessert made just for them, free of charge! With limitations of course."
As a café owner, you liked to hold these little events on occasion, especially if you ended up with more ingredients than you sold. It was a convenient way to get rid of them without having to throw them away and wasting them. For Gojo to win one felt like a thrill, as he didn't often stop by as of late thanks to his teaching position. He luckily had some time during the day to come by for a sweet treat, especially since he promised he would at some point.
Taking the card, Gojo scanned the text.
You've won one (1) free custom dessert*! Present this card at purchase to redeem. *Limitations apply. Good for one item up to ¥800
His drink and to-go box were already on the counter as he gazed back at you. With not a lot of time left in his break, he gave you a charming smile, picking up his items after sliding the card in his pocket. "I'll definitely stop by before you close to redeem this, maybe get some extra things while I'm here."
You two gave each other a wave before Gojo stepped out.
---
As closing time approached, you tried keeping the oven on as long as you could, keeping all the necessary ingredients nearby for whenever Gojo entered the shop, but despite your efforts and hopeful waiting, closing hour came, and you begrudgingly turned the heat off while putting the ingredients into storage.
You were upset, yeah, but not exactly at Gojo. It wasn't the first time his job made him stay out, and it wasn't the first time he didn't show up when he said he would. You didn't want to think about all the plans that fell through on top of this, so after locking the front doors, you set yourself to nearly deep clean the café to distract yourself.
You were going to start with the back. Since that area was out of customer sight, you never really cleaned it as well as you should, but at least it was always within code. You had put your apron up on the rack when a knock rattled the backdoor in the room, nearly causing you to jump out of your skin.
You don't recall ordering any new items, as this is where deliveries would be handled commonly, but you could have simply forgotten. That being said, you opened the door, revealing a towering male with familiar white hair and cloth-shielded eyes.
"Yo, am I too late?" His voice was all too casual for his delay in presence.
Disappointment had gave way to anger, and you turned around, allowing Gojo to enter the shop, gazing around the new environment for a customer.
"You have some nerve..."
"What? I came by! I said I would!"
"You said you'd come by before closing!" Built up frustration bubbled to the surface as you started gathering your cleaning items, haphazardly pacing back and forth to grab the items that were strewn about. "Like how you said you'd come over for drinks last week, or how you wanted to catch a movie the time before that."
Gojo let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I know I messed up. Things have been...crazy with the school for awhile."
"Then you should just focus on that instead of giving me hope." Water splashed from the soap filled bucket you made while talking, having slammed a rag in it after. There was an unsettling silence before Gojo spoke.
"But I'm here, right? After closing, sure. But I'm not bailing completely." He revealed the card from his pocket, still in decent condition despite the activity he typically does. "I still wanna cash in, if that's okay."
You stalled your movements, glancing at him with the revealed card before your gaze went back to the bucket, letting out a sigh.
"I...Yeah." There wasn't any point in being angry right now. You had to admit it was nice of him to come back when he said he would despite being late. He could have bailed out or gotten caught up with work like he usually did but he actually came back this time. "I'm sorry. I'm...really sorry." You straightened up, taking a nice deep breath to ground yourself for the moment. "I haven't started cleaning yet, so what would you like? I can get the stuff back out, but remember it's a ¥800 limit."
"If it's custom, what determines the price?" As Gojo spoke, he stepped over to you, rereading the text to make sure he read it all correctly.
You replied while tying your apron back on. "Size, mainly. You can take a menu item and change it how you want, and I can let you know if that will be within your range."
"Can I go off menu?"
"Well...I don't see why not, but you'd really have to know what you'd--" Your words cut off once you turned back around to face Gojo after your apron was on. He was so close to you, you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him, which contradicted the chilling feeling from the icy blue stare that now graced you. "--w-want."
"So as long as I really know what I want, I can have it, yeah?" His voice dropped to a husky tone as he leaned close, your back starting to press into the wall.
"S-Satoru--"
"Well, can I redeem the cute shop owner~?"
When his cold hand touched your heated cheek, your heart picked up in pace. It pounded in your ears, nearly drowning out all sound. You had no idea Gojo felt this way, but maybe you were just oblivious to past actions.
"I-I...um...I-I'm not exactly a dessert..."
"Are you sure? Because my sweet tooth kicks in whenever I see you~ Maybe I could have a sample first?"
Before you could respond, Gojo's lips found yours, and he was quick to help himself past them, humming from the sweet taste that coated your mouth from sampling your creations throughout the day. Soft groans left the two of you, and you found yourself gripping at Gojo's uniform sleeves, not in protest, but to keep your mind steady. Luckily for your sake, he didn't keep the kiss long, pulling away once notice you were shaking to get air. As you panted lightly, he gave you a playful smirk, licking his lips with a satisfied hum.
"Well after a sample like that, how could I not have more~?"
You didn't need to wait for him to make a move. This time, you urged in, connecting your lips once more with his. His body pressed flush against you, the silence in the air replaced with sensually charged sounds. You gripped at his clothes as his hands raked through your hair, tongues dancing with one another as you held each other close. You were emotionally charged; anger, desire, and excitement all mixing within yourself like a lumpy batter. You didn't exactly know what to feel with him, but desire seemed to be the strongest ingredient.
This sudden makeout seemed to last awhile to you, feeling like tens of minutes went by before you two finally disconnected, gazing into each other's glazed eyes while your chests heaved for air.
"M-My house later," you breathed. "Y-You better not be late this time."
"Trust me," Gojo exhaled in response. "I wouldn't miss that for anything...~"
88 notes · View notes
maddybthorne · 2 days
Text
One of my favorite things in the Harry Potter fandom is how we all *know* Lucius Malfoy is so fucking tired of hearing about Harry Potter.
It (of course) starts when Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, the gossip and hero worship (or hatred) he could not escape, he’s a well known public figure he needs to be able to socialize with the general population. It’s fine, he told himself, it will die down in a few years. Then I will be free of Potter.
Then comes his son’s first year. September 1st 1991 he gets a letter from his son. The first words are “Harry Potter refused to be my friend” nothing about the sorting besides a footnote. No he gets five paragraphs detailing his son’s interaction with Potter. It’s fine, he told himself, my son will eventually get over this (he never does). Then I will be free of Potter.
Then Voldemort is resurrected. And all he talks about is Harry Potter. Capturing him, torturing him, killing him. Doesn’t matter what the conversation starts as. It will always turn back to Harry Potter. It’s fine, he tells himself, my lord will eventually kill the boy. Then I will be free of Harry Potter.
The battle of Hogwarts. Harry Potter is dead. Lucius feels a deep sense of relief for the first time in roughly 8 years. His son can’t keep complaining about the boy, the dark lord has succeeded and the general public will surely be banned from speaking of the boy. He’s finally free.
And then. After being hit by a killing curse in front of his eyes. Harry Potter takes off his invisibility cloak and shows everyone he’s alive. And then he wins the war.
And Lucius dies a bit on the inside. Not because his lord is dead. Not because he will probably be locked away in Azkaban.
No. It’s because now more than ever, everyone will be talking about Harry Fucking Potter.
I’d like to believe it drove him to a mental breakdown.
(And then, post war he’s just chilling as a hermit or something, maybe in Azkaban, relieved that he can’t really talk to people so they can’t bring up Harry Potter. And his son walks in and says he wants to introduce his new boyfriend.
And it’s Harry. Fucking. Potter.
He tries to jump out a window.)
113 notes · View notes
themillsdaughter · 2 days
Text
a privilege I deprive myself of
Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.
or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.
Words: 3.9k
Warnings: Talks of body image.
Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!
Tumblr media
This isn’t ideal.
Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.
You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.
Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.
This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.
“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”
“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.
“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”
“I don’t.”
“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”
Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.
So this really isn’t ideal.
“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.
Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.
The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.
Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.
“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.
For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else. 
In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.
“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…
“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”
“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.
“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.
Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.
“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.
“Well, fuck you very much.”
She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.
Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.
You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.
He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.
She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.
The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.
“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.
To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.
The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.
“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”
“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”
She nodded.
“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”
You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.
“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”
She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.
“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”
Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.
There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.
“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”
So, hm, this isn’t ideal.
You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.
Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.
So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.
As a friend, of course. Truly.
The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.
After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.
On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.
You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.
“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.
“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.
And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.
All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.
“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.
So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.
“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.
Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.
******
You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.
“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”
“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.
“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.
“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”
It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”
Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.
“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”
“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”
What?
“What?”
“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”
“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”
Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.
“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”
“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”
“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”
“You’re starting to freak me out.”
“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”
The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.
Again, not Postmates.
“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.
“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”
“Uh… No. Why…”
“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”
She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.
Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.
Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.
It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.
Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.
“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.
“Listen, I know how it looked-“
“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”
Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years. 
“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.
“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”
“Melissa, the flowers…”
“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”
“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.
“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”
She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?
She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.
“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”
In love you with you. In love you with you.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.
The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.
You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.
“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”
You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.
She flinches, but allows it.
“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”
“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”
She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.
“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.
“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.
She raises a brow.
“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”
“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”
“Of course.” You say without a thought.
“As a friend?” She challenges.
No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.
If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?
You let your hands travel down slightly.
“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”
She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.
“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”
Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.
Forse sarebbe più facile.
“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.
I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.
“I know.” You say.
You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.
She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.
Now, the something more is clearer.
“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”
“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.
“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.
If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.
“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”
“Poor Gary,” you whisper.
“Yeah… Poor Gary.”
So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.
“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”
For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.
Heaven.
Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.
122 notes · View notes
Text
A Goodbye to The Bad Batch
I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.
Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.
One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.
This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.
It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.
Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.
The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.
But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.
At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.
But then I started The Bad Batch.
I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.
I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.
I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.
I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.
What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.
That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.
That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.
That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.
That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.
That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.
That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.
That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.
My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.
But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.
It's very difficult to believe that this is it.
Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.
I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.
We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.
Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.
The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.
Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.
“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”
Tumblr media
87 notes · View notes
bratbutcute · 3 days
Text
A sparkle in the night
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pair: Alastor and Vox. A bit platonic, a bit romantic, could be read in different ways.
Disclaimer: Nothing other than it’s a SFW tickle fic. They are also slightly ooc but tbh we don’t really know since I’m describing a moment that happened before the series takes place sooooo… who knows (but honestly, Alastor is much too sweet to be canon).
Also I had fun with some fonts I found online, I don’t know if that is a problem so if you find difficulties reading please tell me and I’ll change it!
Vox is stressed and wants to reminisce old times, old friends, old feelings.
I got the idea for this from this fic by @starlight-write. I wanted to explore Alastor and Vox’s relationship before whatever happened between them.
I hope you all enjoy it!
~~~
Hell had changed a lot since Vox first arrived. He had met many Overlords who now weren’t ‘alive’ anymore, killed by Angels or by other sinners. He had seen Hell change its geography, different shops rising and then succumbing to nefarious fate.
He had met friends along the way, and he had lost them too.
Vox had learnt that the afterlife was just as complicated and confusing as his past life: people were hard to read, it was hard to understand their needs and, honesty, he wasn’t very good at accommodating them. Of course it was easy to solve people problems work wise (most of the times he was the one creating a fake problem and giving the public a new product as a solution), but when it came to personal business he couldn’t just hypnotise everyone. Well he could but…
He was alone in his personal room, monitors all over him, phones and computers all around him. Even if he was alone he was constantly under the spotlight. He knew he had to prove he was stronger. That he wasn’t scared of anything or anyone.
That’s how he would spend the majority of his afterlife: surrounded by his constant eyes, recording every movement he himself ever made.
So that’s why he felt so excited when he turned off every single monitor except for the bigger one in front of him. He shut down every camera or microphone around him. Unrecorded. Unregistered moments.
A shiver ran down his spine.
After seeing that ghost of his past back again after seven years of absence he had to see something. Something that was his and his only.
What he was looking for was an old memory, one that he had to update digitally from his old headset.
Everything was meticulously categorised so it didn’t take long before he found what he was looking for.
The video started.
And he was almost 45 years younger, he had a different - and much heavier - headset and an ‘old pal’ next to him.
They were in the middle of an animated conversation in a remote bar in the pride ring. Everybody was keeping their distance from them and the moody bartender kept sending them drink after drink.
«Television is much more than photography you radio obsessed demon. Television is alive, it’s thrilling!» Vox exclaimed standing up and stomping his foot on the chair in front of him. Alastor looked at the action with little to no reaction, his usual smile plastered on his face.
«You, young man, are as loud as a cow at the slaughterhouse. That is in no way an Overlord behaviour.» he said squeezing his shoulder and inviting Vox to sit again.
Vox blinked in confusion - and slight worry because of the metaphor - before pouting as a scolded child. He got himself back on the high stools next to the counter dangling his feet.
Alastor poured another whiskey in his glass.
«I admire your enthusiasm, but you have to understand that Hell is different from Earth. You cannot show demons your… moving pictures and expect them to simply follow you. You need to plan. To be strategic. Logical.» he offered the drink to Vox, who looked at the goldish liquid with skepticism.
Alastor’s smile grew bigger. «A peace offer?». Vox sighed and gulped it down in one shot, much to Alastor’s disapproval.
«I think you’re complicating your life too much! I can hypnotise people!» he pointed at his eyes as the pupil changed, but Alastor was unfazed.
«It doesn’t work on me.»
«Yeah I still have to understand why…» he sighed as his head started to spin. His face became a bit foggy, just for a moment.
That made Alastor grin wider. «Is the strong and powerful aspiring Overlord feeling a bit dizzy?»
«Fuck you I am not. You’re just-» he looked down at his empty glass and grabbed the bottle to refill it. «I am an Overlord! ‘M not aspiring to be anything you pompous-» but he was cut off by Alastor cupping Vox’s hands with his and helping him pour the drink. Vox’s heart skipped a beat as his antennas sparkled.
«You were saying?» he hummed, fully aware of what he was doing.
«Fuck you.»
Alastor’s smiled softened «Charming.» and Vox smiled back, rolling his eyes.
They had these kind of conversations every time they hang out. They would go to a bar and sit far away from everyone, start bickering, try to get a deal one from the other only to call it even and repeat this cycle every few days. Vox kept convincing himself that these encounters weren’t a big deal but things like that, like that genuine smile, made him doubt that.
Vox drank his whiskey quickly, just to see Alastor’s ear flicker in dismay, a gesture Vox had learnt to recognise over the years.
He took the bottle and refilled his and Alastor’s empty glass.
«You do not understand what it means to be an Overlord just as much as you do not understand how to enjoy your drink.» Alastor said turning on his stool and leaning with his back on the counter.
«AH! Alcohol gets you drunk. That’s the big meaning behind it.»
Vox was about to chug down his whiskey when he felt something brushing over his side. As he yelped Alastor snickered, trying to camouflage it with a cough.
«AÆl- he glitched - what are you doing?»
«As you can see I am not doing anything.» he said raising his hands to prove his point. Vox straightened his back, looking at his surroundings in confusion.
His fogged brain was trying to process whether there was a threat or not. He felt electricity build up in his body.
As he raised his glass, he felt it again, something brushing his side, just lightly, but, when he turned, his eyes could only scan thin air.
«What is going on?» he mumbled putting the drink down.
Alastor didn’t answer, but he was having fun. Vox could see it by that stupid tail of his that was slightly wagging.
If it was his doing… oh no.
The tendrils came out of nowhere and wrapped around his torso, caressing his stomach and sides slowly.
Vox felt electricity between his fingers and in his antennas. He clamped his mouth shut with his hands, slightly kicking his feet.
«Is everything alright Vox?» Vox shook his head, little sparkles all around him. That fucker…
One of those tentacles circled around the center of his tummy, caressing the blue skin. He could feel the tip lightly scratching the sensitive area, making his body tremble.
It was so agonisingly slow. The gesture felt both sweet and mean, as if it were Alastor’s fingers toying with him.
Then he increased the pace.
Vox’s face started trembling, the image of his expression danced on the screen for a moment, deforming his flat features. Alastor came closer to his prey, enjoying every second.
«Maybe it would be better if you just let yourself…-» the tentacles that were around his stomach changed direction and dug in his hips «…Laugh.»
Vox giggles sparkled, as static electricity vibrated around him. He tried so hard to contain himself, but once the first chuckle was out he could not stop.
«AHAHAHAHL nohohoho.»
«No? But I’m not doing anything my dear! I think you had one too many of these.» he said sliding away the man’s drink, saving it from being destroyed.
«Yohohou knohow dæ-ámňņ well what you’re dohohoing.» Vox managed to say while trying to push his tentacles away.
«Of course I do.» he got closer, more tentacles coming from all around him. Vox felt his heart pounding in his chest, his face a mixture of fear and excitement. A stupid wobbly smile was plastered on his screen.
«And you’re enjoying every single second.» had Vox been a little less drunk he would have probably tried to retort, but all he could do was stare at Alastor’s tendrils.
Two of them wrapped around his wrists, raising his hands.
«Oh noho don’t y҉̗͚͚̯̋̏̍̑O̸͎͕̒̽͐̏U҉͓̦̰̘̌́̏̾͆ DARE ALASTOR!» the tentacles danced in front of him, circling around his underarms. Two of them were near his sides, and no matter how hard he tried to pull at his restraints he couldn’t free himself.
«Oh how I like seeing you like this.» Alastor sighed «So helpless.»
«Ahahahahahl Ihihi ha-hatehehe yohohor stupid gahames.» he protested. He was still sat on his absurdly high stool, his feet trying to touch the floor to push himself back. But there was nowhere to run.
Every demon in the place had already fled, believing that the Radio Demon had found his new victim. Well they weren’t completely wrong.
«Do not lie to me.» Alastor caressed Vox’s screen with a single finger, and fake sweat flashed on his face. «You love my games. And besides, a powerful Overlord like you should laugh at the face of danger.» that actually made Vox titter.
Anything said by Alastor made him laugh.
«Let me see your smile.»
All of the tentacles attacked at the same time, some caressing his skin, some scratching at the fabric of his clothes. They were under his arms, on his stomach, meaningly attacking his hips.
The laugh that left his throat gave Alastor goosebumps. It was loud, the loudest he had ever heard from him and it was so… carefree.
All the sense of control, the pressure of becoming a powerful Overlord, the high standards the man held on himself all crumbled down. And he was just helplessly laughing in front of his friend, eyes closed, not afraid to be hurt.
Unfortunately for him he was definitely too sensitive though and the moment a tendril flicked his antenna he started to glitch.
«NOHOHOHOHŒĦØ-»
A spark of electricity made the entire place blackout for a moment, before the lights came back on. Alastor looked at the display of power both amazed and awed.
The man was really strong.
«Be careful my friend-» Alastor’s voice came from much closer than before «We wouldn’t want you to short circuit would we?»
He decided to give him a little break.
The moment the tendrils freed him, Vox turned his back and held the counter with both of his hands, looking for stability.
He could not stop the giggles and titters leaving his body, feeling even drunken than before even though the alcohol was starting to wear off.
However, before Vox could stop laughing, a single tentacle snuck under the his shirt, through his sleeve, slowly and gently caressing his underarm with its tip. The small movement was driving Vox mad.
He collapsed on the counter, laughter now pouring out of him. His feet were kicking the air. The free arm was pounding on the surface, not lucid enough to try to free himself.
He let his head rest on the table, the screen tilted toward Alastor.
«Yohohouh bihihihitch.» he giggled before trying to pry away a new tendril that was slipping under his shirt, targeting his stomach.
His feet kicked harder and quicker as he started to hiccup. «Ihi- IHĮĦĮ- chahaæn’ț.» his voice changed and distorted.
Alastor drank another glass, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavour.
«Sooo» he stood up next to the giggling mess. «Do we wanna make a deal?» he asked making his tentacles stop their torture and back away.
Vox took a few seconds to compose himself before lifting his head and facing the other demon.
Giggles were still stuck in his throat, threatening to leave his body at every word. «A deahal?» he straightened his back and fixed his shirt, now turning his entire body towards the friend.
«I’m not selling my soul for some T̵̲̫̈́̉͗̂͆-tickles. You can’t be that stupid.»
«I am not, my friend. And for once I do not care for your soul! Oh no no no! I would like…-» he let the anticipation roll on Vox’s nerves as he approached him with twitching fingers. «-for you to never drink whiskey in such an inconsiderate way. You either taste your liquor or you don’t drink at all. You do not gobble your alcohol. You understand that young man don’t you?» and as he pronounced the last sentence, he started tracing invisible circles on Vox’s sides.
Vox closed his eyes and the giggle that escaped his lips was a mixture of ticklish agony and amusement.
«Are you finding my request funny?» his fingers danced on his sides.
«Oh c’mohohn Ahahal.» he kicked his feet again, very careful not to hit the demon in front of him. «Ihiht is fuhuhucking hilariohohohus.» he managed to say.
Alastor was not amused.
«Well if you think this is hilarious I cannot imagine what you’d think of t̷̥̲͎͇̤̒̈́̔h̵̳̪̰͋̊ȉ̵̭̦̰̊̉̒s̶͈͉͙͕̥̅̚.» as his voice distorted he drilled his thumbs in Vox’s hips, scratching slightly under his clothes.
Vox’s face became black for a few seconds, before returning to his loud self, pounding with his free hands on Alastor’s chest.
«Such a sweet sound.»
«Ḍ̷̙̙̪̏́̏̒͊e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿ĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҉̤̩͙̏̿l̸̳͓͔͇̗̋͌̈ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄ ḍ̶̣͎͍͇̐̂̉̿̎e̷͎̘͌̈e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀e҈̫̓̓̈ͅĥ̴̤̖̪̓́͗̀a҈̫͎͆̏̇l̵͉͚͓̃̄.» his glitched and distorted voice came so soft to Alasto’s ear.
Alastor stopped with a chuckle.
«You enjoyed it.» he said before stepping away.
«Oh well don’t think I didn’t notice your tail wagging.» the tv demon whispered with a smile on his face.
Alastor turned himself, hiding his back and his stupid soft tail, a small blush colouring his cheeks.
Vox laughed again, a genuine laugh, and then grabbed his own glass. The older man way eyeing him, fingers ready to summon his power once more.
Vox drank slowly, feeling the warmth of the alcohol. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste.
Alastor smiled at him, the genuine smile reserved to these late night, where the alcohol in their veins made their heads lighter and their words easier to leave their lips.
The words Alastor pronounced forty-five years ago echoed in the empty room. They sounded sincere, no filter altering them, just honesty and liquor on his tongue.
«You’re like a sparkle in the night Vox. You make this dark world brighter with your smile. Remember that»
Vox closed his eyes and let out a sight. He hugged himself for a moment and let those words sink in, burning his soul.
He allowed himself to feel this way for a few seconds, before turning everything off and straightening his jacket.
He had to go now.
He needed to find out what that pompous old prick was planning.
~~~
I feel like I’ve been working on this fics for a month, but it’s actually been a couple of weeks.
I loved exploring Vox and Alastor’s dynamic and showing Alastor being kind of a mentor for Vox.
Initially Valentino had a part in this fic, but in the end his role got cut off, but who knows! I might explore their relationship and how it affected Vox and Alastor in future fics! In this universe (yeah, the one I created pretty much for this single tickle fic) Al and Vox originally had a strong relationship, something between platonic and romantic, that got ruined when Vox met Valentino and started hanging out with him (Even though I strongly believe that in the serie Vox was the one that fell in love and Alastor was just trying to get something out of him and eventually got tired of Vox and left him)
The first scene felt really like when Hamilton and Burr go drink together at the beginning of the musical ahahahaha.
I don’t know when will I publish the new fic, it will take me a long time before I am able to write so much again.
Let me know what you think guys 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
91 notes · View notes
mixterglacia · 3 days
Text
WARNING: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL, STOLITZ CRITICAL CONTENT.
I get fairly mean in this one, you've been warned.
I am so sorry, Viv. You can't convince me to see Stolitz as anything beyond a toxic, doomed to fail, train wreck.
I'm SO down for a good toxic ship.
In fact, I found their pilot dynamic far more interesting than the current writing seems to be depicting.
I refuse to feel bad for a man that caught feelings for a childhood """friend""" so hard he ruined his own life. Blitz owes NOTHING to Stolas. He agreed to fuck him so he could run a business that is barely discussed, even though it was the original point of the show.
Does it suck that Stolas had to deal with an arranged marriage that he never wanted with a mean wife? Yeah.
You know what else sucks?
THAT STELLA HAD TO MARRY A MAN SHE NEVER WANTED, AND HAD TO GIVE BIRTH TO HIS CHILD. ALL WHILE HAVING A FUCKING CREEP OF A BROTHER. ALL WHILE BEING TREATED AS A MONSTER BY THE FANDOM THAT CAN'T UNDERSTAND HYPOCRISY IF IT BIT THEM IN THE FACE.
Like yes, she's a cantankerous bitch. But you can't seriously pretend like she isn't also suffering in this relationship. The only difference is she turns her pain into external anger, where as Stolas has been turned into uwu soft bird who can do no wrong.
Even though he destroyed his family in an extremely public way. Octavia is going to have to live with the impact of her father's decisions for the rest of her life. You can't seriously expect me to feel bad for a man that is the agent of his own destruction.
You also can't tell me that Blitz just needs to get over himself just so he can be with a man who's father BOUGHT HIM FOR HIS SON AS A PRESENT.
To reiterate. If this was meant to be read as a terrible toxic arrangement that just keeps happening? I'm down for that. But this is not, and will never be cute or healthy.
Blitz doesn't owe Stolas anything. He keeps up his end of the bargain. It's purely sexual, and just because Stolas can't accept that doesn't make it Blitz's problem.
Stolas needs to learn how to accept rejection and move the fuck on. He knew he would catch feelings and considering he basically has Blitz on a leash, that doesn't make this any less gross.
The fact that he knows Blitz will leave if he's given the power to go to earth on his own proves it.
Blitz has frankly done very little IF ANYTHING to warrant being subjected to this level of obsession on Stolas' part. He's just trying to make a living.
Frankly, if you wanted us to actually think Blitz was interested, you've totally missed the boat with that one. This should have been worked on ages ago and it makes it feel exceptionally rushed and out of character on Blitz's part.
At this point I'm starting to think Fizz and Ozzie are a fluke of good writing in a sea of godsawful shit. Charlie and Vaggie felt like a literal afterthought in their own show. Husk and Angel are so rushed it felt like watching a relationship at double speed. Are we even supposed to think Pen and Cherry are actually a thing? Because if I was Cherry I would have punched Pen for that shit.
Christ. I don't drink but Viv makes me feel like starting.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
85 notes · View notes
lesbianphan · 1 day
Text
I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.
And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.
After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.
Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.
I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.
I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.
Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.
78 notes · View notes
strawb3rrystar · 1 day
Note
angel dust x reader fluff where reader shows angel that he loves him for more than just his body?
More than limbs.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Angel Dust x GN! Overlord! Reader
Warnings: None really, light mentions of Val (ew)
Word count: 528
✰Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Angel looks down at your intertwined hands for the umpteenth time. Still shocked that your holding had with him in public. Most of the sinners he's been with have never shown him affection in public. The way you do it so causality, with not a care in Hell makes him flustered.
You decided to take Angel out on the town for a day of shopping. No one knew about your relationship outside of the hotel. For very obvious reasons. But, you weren't on too busy of a street now, so you felt comfortable enough to hold Angel's hand.
As the two of you walk, Angel tries to direct his attention somewhere else. He decides to look at the window displays in stores as you pass by. An outfit catches his eye, causing him to stop abruptly. You stumble a little at the sudden halt, looking at Angel. You quickly notice his eyes on the outfit. "Do you like it?"
You ask, stepping beside him. He looks embarrassed that you caught him looking, but he nods his head. With that, you start pulling him towards the front door of the store. Angel finally tuned back in when he was in the dressing room with the outfit in his hands. Perfectly his size. Most of the time he would be giving a size smaller, with the purpose of it to squeeze him in all the wrong places. Just another form of torment for the spider.
He had to admit, the outfit looked amazing on him. He stepped out of the dressing room, your eyes lighting up when you see him. "It looks good on you."
You smile, making his body feel like it's on fire. "Thanks, toots. But it's like 300 dollars."
Angel mentions, his shoulders tensing. You usher him back into the dressing room, a calm expression on your face. "Don't worry about it. Just go get changed, then bring that out to me."
By the time Angel comes out of the dressing room, you're waiting by the cash register. Your eyes on him as he walks towards you. You make him feel like he's the only sinner in hell sometimes. Like nothing else matters to you but him. He had your undivided attention.
You pay for it as if it was only pocket change. Grabbing the bag the outfit was placed in, and then your palm meets him again. The two of you are walking down the street once again. "You didn't have to do that, you know?"
You look at him, your eyebrows rising. "What do you mean? Am I not allowed to buy an outfit for my gorgeous boyfriend?"
"Well, you don't have to spend all that money on me." Angel replies, trying to convince you.
"Relax." You say softly, rubbing your thumb on top of his. "I would give up every penny for you."
Before Angel can reply, you pull him in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. The type that leaves his heart racing for you. And you kissed him right there, on the street, in front of everyone. You pull away a few seconds later, giving his cheek a pinch. "Every penny."
Tumblr media
Star's notes -> Yall seem to love my fluffy Angel Dust fics, huh?
(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)
Tumblr media
Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach
@idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity
@onyxxtheghost @budozone @sugarplumz100 @marenelili @myamythos
@hazbinhappy @samohxt2-0 @mollzaj @sunshines-bright @t0uchst4rv3d
@saints-wrapped-in-plastic @sweetadonisbutbetter @little-miss-chaoss @cummunistcat @parasite-b | Join the taglist
73 notes · View notes
otrtbs · 2 days
Note
Twitter people complaining about art heist baby and how u gave the women no personality whatsoever
there is not a single fanfiction in the marauders fandom that someone on twitter hasn't complained about. i know that this ask wasn't sent with good intentions whatsoever (along with the slew of other ones that you or others have been sending me since december) but i am going to say this. one time.
to paint ALL of the women in art heist baby as underdeveloped w no personality is extremely reductive. to say that all of the male characters in art heist baby were perfectly developed and fully fleshed-out characters is also reductive. i DO think that some of the characters are undeveloped in art heist. but not exclusively the women. to make that claim as some sort of moral argument/virtue signalling call for justification on why art heist is bad or why you are so much better than somebody else for not liking it is ridiculous and i would argue, unfounded. it is okay not to like things just because you don't like them.
furthermore, fanfiction is a place for BEGINNERS and AMATEURS to try out writing and to explore storytelling as hobby. nobody is going to be perfect at it their first go, and i certainly wasn't. sometimes it's not an "art heist baby is misogynist" issue and it's more of a "nat was trying to write 11 different characters all at the same time as a first time writer" issue. some of my characters were undeveloped, yes. but not just the women. but how is this, in any way, encouraging new people, or even repeat fanfic authors, to write stories if the baseline demand is that they be perfect at it? if the initial assumption is that the author has some moral or ethical failing for making common writing mistakes as a beginner? it hardly encourages anyone to try again or to try at all.
at the end of the day, people on twitter are going to complain and pick apart and be generally negative because that's how they get the most interaction and engagement. and i can talk until i'm blue in the face about how consumption of media in any form but ESPECIALLY fanfic consumption is not political praxis. nor is it a substitute for political praxis, but again, the target audience for that rant would not give a fuck. and finally. art heist baby is a jegulus fanfiction first and foremost. of course all the other characters are going to be fucking background side characters. they are not the stars of the show. enough of this.
59 notes · View notes
I (unwisely) recently logged on to the website formerly known as Twitter, and was immediately greeted with more eva fandom misogynist apologia on the for you tab. Will this ever end?
Equating Shinji's misogynistic actions towards Asuka (and his more subtle misogyny towards Rei and Misato) to Asuka being rude and abrasive to Shinji is just absurd. Is Asuka rude? Yes. Does she have poor social skills? 100%. But Asuka is not a bully, period. Why? Bullying, like abuse, is about power structures. The only character more powerless than Asuka in this show is Rei. Asuka has no adults on her side. Misato favors Shinji because he reminds her of her father wound and neglects Asuka because she reminds her of the feminine parts of herself (read: her unhealthy interactions with men and boys, particularly Kaji and Shinji, which, ironically, stem from her father wound). Or have we forgotten about this scene? Similarly, once Kaji arrives in Japan, he also begins neglecting Asuka in favor of Shinji.
In addition to Shinji's mistreatment of her, Asuka's also experiencing culture shock (compounded by the fact that she's functionally illiterate in Japanese, since she canonically can't read kanji) and the fact that Kensuke was literally manufacturing and distributing csam material of her (and other girls!). Asuka also lacks the protective Eva Unit that Shinji benefits from at almost every turn. The only ally Asuka has is Hikari, who is an ordinary girl with no power over any of the things that are harming or have harmed Asuka.
The smoking gun here is the fact that Shinji is fantastically unfazed by Asuka (who, it must be said, makes several attempts to be kind to Shinji -- which he typically shuts down). Until eoe, the most emotion that he shows around her is when he's understandably upset that she moved into his room while he was at school, and even then he's not upset with Asuka, he's moreso upset at the situation. When he does finally get angry at her in eoe, it's because she was honest with him about how he hurts her and how she does not want to help him (to be clear: she's not obligated to).
Besides that, he nonchalantly tells her not to speak to him that way, or confesses to another character that he finds her bothersome or annoying. There is no real evidence that Asuka has any significant, negative impact on Shinji's psyche the way an actual bully would have on their victim; no, the characters who have the most negative impact on Shinji are Gendo, Yui, and Misato.
What empowers bullies of any age in real life is a power structure (be it at a school, workplace, or in the home) that is negligent towards the victim. There is a reason why school bullies tend to be star athletes, high academic achievers, or exceptionally well-liked (by students, staff, or both) students -- it's because these students often come from privileged backgrounds and/or are aligned with the power structure of the school. Power empowers, go figure.
Misato's treatment of Shinji is definitely not admirable (let's not forget that by the end of the series, Misato has assaulted Shinji); but it's not neglectful. She's very concerned with and involved with his inner life, albeit for selfish reasons. Conversely, Misato knows every ounce of Asuka's pain (rewatch the end of episode 10) and still neglects her! Keeping both Asuka and Shinji in the same household after episode 9 was a mistake on Misato's part. A good, competent caretaker would've discussed the issue (the nonconsensual kiss) with them both separately with the end result being one or both of them moving out into the dorm-like housing that NERV has.
Point being is that the power structure exclusively benefits Shinji relative to Asuka. Despite also suffering as a child soldier and a victim of trauma and abuse, he is privileged relative to Asuka due to how the adults who have power over him and Asuka favor him through their interactions.
Finally, eoe beats us over the head with how uncompassionate Shinji is towards Asuka, Rei, and Misato. Characters who just to happen to be...women and girls. Huh. How about that? It's almost like there's a message there. Although there are a few moments in the show where it's suggested that Shinji ought to empathize more with boys and men like Toji, Kaji, and Gendo (suggestions to empathize with Gendo tend to come from Rei in particular, which I'm not a huge fan of, for the record, but I also recognize that this is Rei imparting her own perspective regarding her own internal journey of questioning onto Shinji), the fact that in eoe, the piece that marks the end of the series, much of the narrative focuses on Shinji's treatment of the women and girls in his life is absolutely significant and sends a message about misogyny.
Does being a misogynist make Shinji a horrible, irredeemable character? Well, that's up to each viewer to decide. My take is that he can still break the cycle and improve. Any story about childhood trauma and abuse would be incomplete without at least one of the characters going down the road of turning into an abuser and/or their traumatizer -- Shinji fits this bill in eva, same with Misato and Ritsuko. Despite everything, I like Shinji. I find him endearing and even identify with him to a certain degree.
When you ignore these facts about Shinji's character, you are erasing a large, very interesting part of his character. Reducing him down to any flavor of sensitive, soft boy is as boring as it is cliche after the more than a quarter of a century since the first episode aired in 1995.
The softness, the sensitivity -- this is Shinji's exterior. Beneath it lies someone who is selfish, callous, bitter, rude, and self-flagellating. As is the case with every eva character, the interior is more interesting than the exterior.
The thing is that everything I've discussed in this post isn't just some throwaway line or a piece of blink and you'll miss it symbolism. It's present in this show basically from episode 1 onward. Seriously, rewatch episodes 1-7. Shinji clearly has some misogynistic ideas about how women should be and this rubs off on how he thinks of Misato (and Rei!), especially regarding how women should dress, keep house, and interact with their sexuality. He not uncommonly makes jabs at Misato for being a slob and having poor dating prospects. After Asuka arrives, much of this is transferred to her.
If anything I've written here sounds like vilification to you, I'd encourage you to examine why. For better or worse, this is the reality of eva and Shinji as a character. Will you face this reality, or just keep on dreaming?
59 notes · View notes
sgiandubh · 4 hours
Note
Although MPCs website clear about bring a business which contributes a portion of profits post admin costs, Sam regularly in videos and in print interviews misrepresents. He's says my charity abd he says 59% of signup fee goes to charity. If there is a problem l, it's on Sam, who according to original members, basically sold MPC control, in 2017. Your statement of knowing what he's doing with his MPC, is questionable, post corporate change of MPC. It's not just his alone. MPC has sketchy history, since Alex's involvement, and the rumors, look more as truths that a good portion of the administrative costs go to Alex pre-whisky, for a working, guaranteed salary before sales came in. It also begs the question, if Sam is interested in supporting charity with a portion of income sales, why hasn't 10% of whisky sales went to charity partners? The whisky is part of the GGC, Sam and Alex's business. Why wouldn't he plug a Newman Products design? Maybe he's not as interested in charity?
Dear MPC Anon,
It has always been 50%, which is logical. 59% sounds like a demented Asian astrologist suggestion - but you might be unfamiliar with Burmese recent history, so I shall give you a pass, on that one.
Who are the 'original members' who told you MPC was sold? To whom was it sold? When did that happen? I need paperwork to support this statement: the current corporate documents still list ONE officer - pay away from your wallet to find out it's very probably SRH: I am not doing it for you.
Tumblr media
Like it or not, Norouzi's involvement in MPC is a reality since at least its creation. You will have to prove me the 'sketchy' part with much more than a stinking grenade thrown by Anon or fandom illiterate gossip.
I will have to see contracts between MPC, AN, SH proving that pre-whisky launching costs of The Sassenach were drawn from the MPC accounts. I will also have to see bank and accounting documents proving so. According to US law, I would also have to be a Court and have enough reasons to subpoena these people and entities to show me those. Stop spreading the shite written by Pufflander once upon a time and ask Puffy, in her retreat, what the fuck did she do with the crowdfunded money for the Harassment PI Report (you know, *urv and co). Now that would be a really interesting question, right? No answer? Bad day, baby. Bad day.
Whisky sales under the umbrella of Great Glen Company LLC, a different legal entity with no charitable mission, were never designed to represent a charitable endeavor. I think you know the difference between a charity and a company, right? Suggesting he should give 10% of all his earnings to charity is akin to a church tithe. This argument is, of course, ridiculous, in the business world, unless there is an explicit and public vow to do so, with a particular company's benefits.
Newman's Own and the Newman's Own Foundation represent Paul Newman's personal commitment to give away 100% of Newman's Own LLC profits to charity: the Foundation serves to direct the funds to the projects its trustees deem the most appropriate, according to the Foundation's values.
Tumblr media
This is a different story and I also hope you know the difference between Great Glen Company, a business who wants to remain a business and a ground-breaking CSR commitment like Paul Newman's. Great Glen Company and MPC are separate projects - AN's loud involvement in both does not help, though, especially with an uneducated bigot, such as yourself, Anon.
Assuming he must give 100% of all his profits to charity is absolutely ridiculous, Anon. Why don't you give away all the profits of your lemonade stand to charity and set a blazing, luminous example in this fandom?
Unless you quickly substantiate what you wrote in anger on your phone, with links, facts and names, I am forced to tell you to kindly, slowly, but surely...
FUCK OFF MY PAGE!
[Later edit:] Should I start a US Tax Law 101 course for you, Anon? To me, this rather crude company/charity montage sounds legit. Also, MPC is not a charity, as shown in my previous post.
Tumblr media
45 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 2 days
Text
Speak Now
Relationship: Norm McLean x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: Yes by @fallout-girl219
Warnings: Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 1,250
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Summary: On what is supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she cannot help but feel Norm is hiding something.
Tumblr media
“Oh, I just love a wedding. Well we haven’t had one in a while but still.” Lucy gushed as she helped get her friend ready for her special day. Her hair was being pulled every which direction, while Stephanie tidied up her nails.
“How are you feeling?” The blonde at her hands asked, looking up briefly. The woman in the chair took a deep breath, and blew it out hard while she thought.
“Okay. Nervous, I guess.” She stated. Stephanie, having just gotten married recently, was still in her honeymoon phase and reminiscing.
“I get what you’re feeling. But once you see him in front of you, you’ll know. That’s the one. Like Bert,” her eyes held little clouds in them, “I just knew he was the one for me when we were set up.” Lucy looked towards her friend like she was eagerly taking in the story, but the same could not be said for the woman in the chair.
“I don’t know. Just… the idea though. Of marrying a complete stranger that I’ll meet at the vault exchange. It doesn’t feel right.” She lamented, expressing her concern with the practice.
“You’ll change really quick when you see him. Why I just knew that Bert was going to be the best man for me the second I saw him.” Stephanie said softly once more. They quieted their chatter as the two women began to work on the bride-to-be’s makeup. All the while, she sat there, running through every possibility.
Nothing her mind came up with helped her current predicament. A figure passed by the window into her room, that stopped just for a second to long. It was Norm. Her neighbor and life-long friend, even if he was a bit peculiar. Their eyes locked and she swore that she could see an upset look in his eyes. That was, until, it was broken off by Lucy standing in front of the bride to apply her lipstick.
She had no idea why Norm would be upset over her getting married, even to a stranger. They were just friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. Although, she had tried to get him to notice her. Taking up a new hobby to show him, only to be met with a disinterested stare while she spoke about it. Styling her hair a different way just to have him ask if she was feeling alright. Trying to find out his hobbies and having him wonder what she was doing there.
But to no avail. There was nothing to suggest that he thought about her in any other fashion than that of a friend. And even that was a maybe, if he even considered her one. She sure considered him a friend of hers. By the time she could see through the window again, Norm was gone. Her heart hurt a little bit. She should be happy. Not pinning after her friend. How could she be happy though? She was not excited to be marrying a stranger from Vault 32. That was not what she wanted. But she had to. For the good of society.
As the two women finished up their beautification of the bride in the chair, she was presented with a mirror. She had to admit; they did an amazing job. Presented with a white dress, she took the offered pen and hesitantly signed her name with the date on the inside panel. Getting dressed, her heart was speeding up considerably. Her nerves were getting the better of her. The walk down to Vault 32 was terrifying. Faces passed and all she wanted to do was scream and run. Her mother and father greeted her as she made it to the spot in front of the door to Vault 32.
“How are you feeling, honey?” Her mother asked, voice airy and sweet.
“Fine.” She replied. Her voice was cut short as a lump formed in her throat. The vault door seemed larger and more daunting now as they stood in front of it. A crowd of people came around the door to watch the exchange happen. Amongst those people, she scanned for one person, who stood at the back of the room. Norm was there. It made her feel better to have him there, but not as good as she should have been.
Hank MacLean came up to her and held her hand while pulling her towards the door. Even she could feel the sweat beading up on her, and her heart beating out of her chest. Before the door could be open though, a voice shouted above the commotion.
“Wait!” Norm pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “Wait, wait, wait.”
“What are you doing, son?” Hank whispered, about to scold him.
“She can’t get married to someone else.” He stated, looking towards the woman in a wedding dress, standing before the vault door.
“What are you talking about, Norm?” His father, once again, tried to keep a lid on the situation.
“Because I won’t allow you to marry her off. We can trade something else, but I will not have her marrying anyone else. There’s no direct bloodline between us, which means that our children won’t be directly related to anyone except our direct relatives in this community.” He finished his speech, and finally took another breath. Norm looked at his father, his friend, and back to his father. She looked relieved, and a little scared.
“You wish to marry her? Right now?” Hank pressed, waiting to see how this is going to play out.
“Yes. I’ll do it right now.” Norm stood up straighter, looking usually sure of himself as he faced the situation with conviction.
“Alright then. We’ll inform Overseer Jackson we no longer need a match. We’ll find something else of value to trade. I’ll go inform him.” Hank let go of her hand and waked out with his council. Her parents walked out as well, still confused as to what was happening. Soon, it was just the two kids who were looking down at their shoes.
“So… what was that all about?” She questioned, peeking her head out from her lashes.
“I just didn’t want you marrying someone who you didn’t know. I figured you would be more comfortable with someone you know.” Norm murmured.
“Is that all?” Once again, she pressed her friend for answers.
“Well-” he started, “maybe. Not really. I just, just…”
“Norm?” A call made his head peak up. She stepped closer and closer until they were toe to toe, and chest to chest.
“Yes? You are very close to me.” That was the last thing he was able to say until her lips pressed softly against his own. They stood there, finding their place in the moment. Unfortunately, the need for air came about which led for the pair to draw away from the other.
“I think we’re supposed to do that at the alter.” Norm whispered, which sent her into a fit of giggles. He giggled along with her and moved to hold her hand. She grasped his hand tightly and felt the sweat disappear from her palms. Norm felt a surge of confidence as he looked her in the eyes once more.
“Shall we go get married now?” He suggested, looking back into their own vault.
“Let’s go get married.” She agreed, beginning to drag him along with her. Norm followed willingly, and even ended up dragging her a little bit in his excitement to finally have the girl.
44 notes · View notes
atopvisenyashill · 2 days
Note
seeing how some greens act like rhaenyra being groomed by her uncle, and subsequently being unable to let go of him, is HER personal failure turned me into a rhaenyra extremist when i simply enjoyed her character beforehand.
im really glad you're speaking about it because even though it's fiction, it still perpetuates a very dangerous rhetoric
wait this gives me an excuse to ramble, pls excuse me if i phrase things maybe a little crassly here, it’s a delicate topic i’m speaking indelicately about but also, i think i should be allowed bc [redacted] BUT-
obviously i don’t like, love, some of the changes to the show but i think the first half does a great job of setting it up to where you can see both alicent and rhaenyra are surrounded exclusively by much older men who want to fuck them, and have just no way of knowing who is being genuine with them. because no one is really! so you have episode 4, where alicent is sleeping in a room with pornographic art on the wall and being called to her husband’s bed and she can’t say no, and he’s not going to do anything to make the whole thing even marginally easier for her. and then you have rhaenyra, pulled from her bed by her uncle to a brothel, and she’s completely exposed, and she’s experiencing new things, and he’s purposefully trying to make this feel good but also overwhelming for her, then abandons her drunk & confused & half naked. this is The Same Thing - they’re both being used and manipulated by a much older man, but because that manipulation looks different, they react different. but it’s still manipulation.
yes, the type of abuse is different when it’s like, your ugly ancient grandpa grooming you vs a handsome 30 year old stranger you met online that you tell all your high school friends is your boyfriend, but ultimately, both the grandpa and the 30 year old boyfriend are abusers but more importantly, the granddaughter and the high schooler are both victims!!! i think a lot of people when analyzing this whole thing, will pin daemon as a groomer but then completely forget that this also makes rhaenyra a victim. some people will even hee hee haw haw over it because “oh your feminist icon would rather marry her groomer uncle than her gay cousin in the book” DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF. could it possibly be that rhaenyra prefers daemon to laenor because daemon has manipulated her into thinking she is only free with him? she is only safe with him?? could it possibly be that he has been giving her gifts and taking physical liberties with her for her whole life, and being the Good Cop, Sweet Confidant to her parents Bad Cop her whole life, that she feels taken in by him because he is all she knows???? in the same vein that alicent just swallows all the poison and bullshit from otto because that’s her father, and his protection is all she knows????
honestly part of like ~the discourse~ that’s most frustrating is that most greens just refuse to see rhaenyra’s pov or see that she’s also a grooming victim grasping for power to protect her own children, again just like alicent, but on the flip side, most of the analysis from the blacks side is like “if you think nyra is a victim of grooming you are just as bad as the people calling her a whore for having children out of wedlock” and like, how do you even engage with that. with either of those opinions. you can’t wksjd so if youre, ya know, like a normal fucking person who can see how both girls are being manipulated, but you have like a fondness for nyra specifically, it’s just constant bad takes. there’s nowhere to go to escape the bad takes.
i thought we had already hashed out this idea that being aware or unaware of your victimhood doesn’t suddenly mean you’re not being oppressed during the main show with arya and sansa but no, we’ve actually just taken this exact same annoying fandom discourse about which teenage girl is dealing with being abused in the most acceptable way and made it a thousand times worse.
44 notes · View notes