#I hate looking at all I have and still not being able to use it for something

[radio-fmm]

I hate cigarettes

Zoro x fem!reader

Just a sweet love confession

The air carried the ocean’s salt, mingling with the taste of tabaco form the cigarette between your lips. You hate smoking, you’ve never even craved one, still you hold onto it in an attempt to ground yourself, in hopes it’ll take away your thoughts with the smoke.

You hear footsteps, steady and hauntingly familiar that make you stiff. Zoro’s presence usually was comforting, like you knew nothing bad could happen around him, but lately it had the power to awaken a storm between you, making you stumble, hesitate, weak.

“Isn’t that supposed to calm you down?” He motions to the burning cigarette you still hold onto your dear life, shaking

“That’s what Sanji says… starting to believe he made it up”

Zoro hisses his teeth

You stomp on the cigarette and look back at the kitchens window, alive with your crewmates having dinner. Usopp renacts the fight he had earlier today as everyone laughs around the table, Luffy steals one of Nami’s grapes on her salad making Sanji kick him in the head

You smile

But your smile doesn’t reach your eyes like it’s supposed to, or at least that’s what Zoro notes. Lately you’ve been quieter, making yourself smaller around the swordsman, and he just can’t figure out why and it’s driving him insane

Because you are the opposite

When Zoro first met you he didn’t pay you any mind as he always does, but your apparently quiet nature made him gravitate towards your space because he felt at ease. After a while it turns out you weren’t exactly the quiet kind, trust granted him access to a new part of you, the real you. You were silly, obnoxious with the right people around, like the sun rising after a cold quiet night. You were loud when excited but quiet when you felt not so needed

That’s why your silence alarmed him, because it meant you weren’t comfortable and the thought of you not feeling anything close to safe around him was unnameable, even if Zoro was too shy to accept it he always searched for your approval and ‘need’– He wanted you to need him close.

It’s hilarious really, both of you are driving each other insane and you are oblivious about it. You are aware that what you’re doing it’s childish, but that feeling in the pit of your stomach, the ache in your heart that wears you down every time you see the swordsman is something you fear. You know you love him, you’ve always been someone really self aware but that doesn’t make it any easier, you don’t want to mess this up, you wouldn’t be able to keep living if that ever happened. It’s tearing you apart, and Zoro just stands there and lets it all happen like right now, because he doesn’t really know what to say or do

What a sad combination

Something the swordsman however, doesn’t get a lot of credit for it’s his emotional intelligence, this– mingling with a sixth sense when it comes to all matters you cancelled out his shy nature

So that’s how now he scoots over to you on the railing, steady but soft as if to not scare you more

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

His voice it’s a little stern but careful, you look over and you know you can’t scape it, your heart speeds up making everything hazy.

You stand defeated, still no answer as it hangs on the tip of your tongue, afraid but eager.

“Don’t have another option do I?” He chuckles, a little sinister but affectionately, he likes being known by you. You used to be that way too, before your insecurities sabotaged you

“It’s not that big of a deal”

“If it has you sulking it cannot be nothing”

“I’m not sulking”

“You are”

“Am not”

“You, are stalling”

You glare, without any bite to it. He glares back standing on business

“It has nothing to do with you Zoro, I just… am too afraid to face something”

His eyes never leave you as he sits with your words for a minute, before answering without an ounce of hesitation in his tone

“You’re brave and smart, I’m sure you can figure it out yourself. But, if you need any help you know you can always count on me”

Now you feel a little bad. His compliment craves itself into your heart and his desperation to keep you close maddening. It’s both unlike him but also so true to himself

The torture wasn’t gonna take you anywhere, it was just going hurt forever until it becomes painful to even wake in the morning to see your swordsman lay with someone else

“I hate cigarettes” you state with a painful sigh

Zoro crooks his brow and scowls confused

“Then why-“

“and you, Zoro?”

He blinks, a hand runs trough his green hair a little desperate. He had a whole speech prepared but he underestimated your ability to rant about whatever you wanted

“I don’t care ab-“

At the end of the day what is love but the soul naked? Better a love unrequited than a love never spoken

In an instant, you take advantage of his brain short circuiting to crash your lips into his. It’s desperate and almost pleading, you stand on your tiptoes and latch your hands onto his shirt, afraid to let go and have to see his face with horror etched onto it. Zoro for the second time in his life, stumbles– he is losing his mind, baffled but also thankful. The feeling of your lips in his just feels right

His hands move on their own accord, one falling onto your hip the other holding the back of your head to lock your face in his rougher

He’s hungry for it, like after a long day of training he gets to have dessert.

You shake in his hold but he catches you– every time

You end the kiss to take in a long breath, you find his eyes already on you and a smirk forming on his red lips

“So, that’s what’s up?” He teases and you try to scape his unrelenting hold but of course fail

“Don’t be mean”

“Am not”

“Zoro”

You stand there, soul bare and he can’t really name the feeling that blooms form his heart. It’s all consuming, addicting and sugar sweet, something he never thought would find at least in this lifetime, not for him to hold with his calloused hands

He says your name back like a promise and kisses your hand to lock it in

“Don’t ever dim your light for me again”

You smile and kiss him silly again

Masterlist

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

May I request headcanons for Optimus Prime from Transformers One, featuring a Cybertronian male romantic partner who shares similarities with Viktor from Arcane—an extraordinary inventor?

♡ [TFO] OPTIMUS w/ s/o Similar To VIKTOR From Arcane

how did you know i watch arcane though? regardless, i shall deliver anon. viktor is lowkey my babygirl so i loved this ask.

scenario: Orion fell for an inventor with a deteriorating health condition and that didn't change when he became Prime

warnings: slight angst given Viktor's health condition

— Optimus has always admired you in a way. There wasn't a single bot in the mines who didn't know you. Out of every single one of them, you were an outlier in every sense of the word and that caught young Orion’s optics.

— It was intrigue and curiosity that led the young Orion to you. The reckless mech was more than ready to be your lab rat, testing out your latest inventions. While he's no longer as reckless, he still takes the liberty of testing out your latest inventions. They save his aft out there on the battlefield numerous times.

— You're sort of like his personal modifications bot. You're the one that tweaks his frame with newer, more efficient weaponry and defences. Optimus appreciates it a lot.

— He looked up to you then, he looks up to you now. Despite being occupied with something as tedious as mining, you worked shifts like everyone else. Not only that but you managed to make mining a lot easier for everyone; from repairing their busted jetpacks to coming up with new ways to spot tunnels before they collapse, you made everyone's life easier and that doesn't change even now. Because now you're inventing things to help the Autobots; whether it's with issues related to simple industries or military, you're the mech with a solution.

— Optimus definitely asks you for your opinion on things, you always have a spot on the table to give your input. Not only because he loves you but also because you're educated and learnt. The Prime is more than grateful for your intelligence.

— But he hates, hates remembering how much healthier you used to be. Optimus looks at you, much more frail and tired looking now and it makes his spark ache. You're sick with something and nothing he does seems to be able to fix it.Prime has Ratchet on your case.

— Ratchet slowly figures out what's wrong with you. Your ventilation systems are rusted out from all the toxic gasses and moisture from the mines, your systems lack adequate galvanization and so they're rusting from the inside. You struggle with your temperature regulation and it's slowly damaging your frame.

— You're trying to engineer a cure but none so far have worked. Optimus is encouraging you to keep trying no matter what though and he hopes, Primus he hopes you find it because if there's anyone brilliant enough to find one, it's you.

— Optimus’ affections are gentle, he will cup your face and look into your tired optics with nothing more than adoration. Subtle gestures, standing up for you, holding your servo, gentle kisses to your helm. That's his thing and he will love it if you would reciprocate. You take a break from tinkering in your lab and come by to his office and give him a peck on his check or kiss on his forehelm and he will cling onto that for days.

— Whenever Optimus goes to the surface for expeditions, he brings back whatever interesting finds he sees. Anything that catches his optics, usually it's something that would remind him of you. Not to mention the way you have that soft smile on your faceplates when you get something interesting to do a study about.

— Optimus is hesitant to take you on expeditions to the surface but would cave in after some pressure from your side, he would never want to upset you. It's just that he doesn't want you getting anymore sick… and the surface is dangerous, you're not exactly a fighter. But Optimus has seen your inventions and their capabilities, you will be able to fend for yourself if you have your gadgets with you.

— Optimus routinely walks into your lab in the middle of the night to find you working and then proceeds to scold your workaholic tendencies. He can feel the lack of your warmth beside him on your shared berth and it makes him frown all the time because he knows where you would be.

— But he's somewhat of a hypocrite in that department because ever since Optimus became… Optimus, he's been busy with running Iacon; from administration to military, he rarely gets any breaks himself. So he doesn't go too hard on you. But he wants you to rest. Badly. He worries if it worsens your health.

— Sometimes, he will ask you about the workings of some of your latest inventions. Not because he's a science-mech or even understands what you're saying but your optics light up whenever someone seems to take interest in what you make. Optimus finds it adorable. Everything you say is entering one audial and leaving the other, he's busy admiring you. But he's trying to retain something, solely for the purpose of enquiring more so that you ramble on.

— You're best friends with Wheeljack and that… somewhat worries him, often. He doesn't know what to expect but when the two of you put your processors together, a lot usually happens.

— Other times, the two of you just sit next to each other and you fall into recharge with your helm against his pauldron after working the night in your lab for so long. Optimus doesn't move a bit, he just looks down at you with a fond smile and slowly shifts, picking you up and setting you down on your shared berth.

— Now that he's Prime, he's loaded with cash. Stacked. You have a new lab, a new everything with all the equipment you could've only ever dreamed of having back down there in the mines. Optimus unveiled it to you like a surprise and he had never seen you so excited in his whole life. You had the widest smile and kissed him across his face senseless.

— Your projects also get a lot of his funding! Yes, you're funded by the Autobot government now. Isn't that amazing? Optinus also thinks it's a great idea when you share plans of letting more brilliant minds into your lab for assistants and such. He thinks it's a good idea not because it would make your work easier but because at least there would be someone around to make sure you're not overworking yourself when Optimus is busy being Prime. Also someone would be there to aid you if your health gets in the way.

— His favourite part of you are your servos! They're so gentle and nimble, especially since they deal with such intricate machinery. It's somewhat rough but he likes them nonetheless. Optimus likes them anywhere on his frame to be honest.

— Your deteriorating health is a huge concern for him. It's eating his processor. He doesn't have long with you and he wishes, he wishes with every single joule of energy in his spark that he could buy more time with you. That you could find a cure; he has consulted nearly every medic in Iacon and it has been futile, it's an irreversible manufacturing defect… Optimus dreads it. So every second he spends with you, he cherishes it. He tries to make it as happy and lighthearted as possible.

yay im almost halfway done!

[militarywifesvt]

Into your arms again

Pairing : lee chan x reader

Trope : idol!Chan x girlfriend!reader

Summary : not seeing your boyfriend for months made you really frustrated . So you decided to surprise him at the airport when he came back . And he couldn't be happier.

Genre : fluff , angst if you squint

Warnings : none

You knew dating an idol would be hard . Of course you loved seeing your boyfriend do what he loves and what he has always dreamed of , you had no problem with that . But not seeing him for almost 7 months was a big struggle for both of you . Chan usually goes on tour at least once a year and he hates not being able to hold you in his arms and cuddling you after a tough day of work . He can't even do that for one day , let alone 7 whole months .

The next 7 months drag by , each day feeling emptier without him around . You always miss him more than the last time he was gone . And without his jokes , his smile , and the way he made everything feel lighter , life just doesn't feel the same . Sure , you video call almost every day and you always wake up at his " good morning " texts , but you miss his presence more than anything . And the only thing you have that reminds you of him is his hoodie that he gave you before he left . It's drenched in his perfume , so you use it to cuddle every night and imagine it's him .

Your parting ritual before every flight is hugging each other for at least ten minutes . He stands in front of the door , his suitcase next to him and you in his arms , head buried in your neck to smell your scent for one last time . He ends up getting carried away and almost missing his flight , but at least it's worth it .

" I'm sorry babyyy , I swear we'll meet when I get home " you say while on the phone with Chan , trying so hard to hide your laugh

" but babeee , I didn't see you for seven months . Don't I deserve to see you as soon as I land ? " He whines . He thinks you won’t be there when he arrives at the airport , that work has you too tied up , too busy for reunions . You let him believe it , playing along with casual calls and vague texts about deadlines and meetings . What he doesn’t know is that you've been planning this surprise for weeks , counting down the days with quiet excitement . The moment his plane touches the ground , you’ll be there, hidden in the crowd , heart pounding . After seven long months apart , how could you not surprise him ? And maybe , just maybe , after all the waiting , a little harmless prank is the perfect way to welcome him home .

Finally , after a long wait that felt like decades , today is the day . You woke up extra early to make sure you were on time , arrived at the airport 30 minutes early , just in case . You couldn’t sit still . Your legs refused to stay in one place , pacing back and forth across the airport floor like the movement could calm the storm in your chest . Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve, your breath catching every time the arrival doors slid open . There was no real reason to be this nervous. And yet, after all those months apart, the thought of seeing him again , of finally closing the distance , sent your heart racing like crazy . Every second felt stretched thin, heavy with anticipation . He was almost here .

Time passed , and saying you were nervous like crazy was an understatement . Until , people started gathering and security guards were already setting up the barrier ropes, clearing a path through the fans before SEVENTEEN even showed up . Suddenly , fans started screaming and the members showed up one by one . You stood in a distance on your tippy toes for a clear vision . Then , you saw him , for the first time in seven months , bags in his hands and bowing at the fans . He looked sad , so you waved at his direction . The second he saw you , his eyes lit up . and without a second thought , he dropped everything and sprinted towards you . Bags hit the floor , fans gasped , but all he saw was you. In an instant , he wrapped you in his arms , lifting you off the ground and spinning you effortlessly .

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, arms clinging to his shoulders as you buried your face in the curve of his neck, giggling like a kid again .

" You’re real? " he gasped, grinning up at you.

" Last time I checked , yes ," you laughed. " Missed me that much ? "

" You have no idea, " he said, still holding on like he'd never let go . " We need to go home immediately , I have a lot of funny pictures to show you " he adds , kissing your cheeks so hard it hurts .

[transfemme-shelterdog]

The "oh wittle tboy is scared of losing his singing voice while we're out here trying to not get murdered" is so something.

Like, first of all, transmascs are still murdered and hate-crimed. I shouldn't have to tell trans people that trans people are killed and hate-crimed.

But back to the voice, like why is it a problem for us to be afraid of losing that? It was the only thing I was scared of when starting T, and it happened, and I'm still struggling with it.

Not to be a downer, but I spent a lot of time totally isolated as a kid. Left completely alone at the house for weeks at a time, so I would sing to myself. For hours, until my throat hurt. It both stimulates the vagus nerve, which helps with anxiety and depression, and it filled my house with some noise, some voice. It helped me calm myself after instances of abuse. It became a go-to self-soothing technique. I was pretty alright at it, too, and was in some musicals. I greatly enjoyed those.

Now, I can't hit even half the notes I used to. My voice didn't settle before I stopped being able to afford hormones. Even the deeper range I have is very limited. I can't afford lessons, and I can't sing as loud as I want whenever I want to practice because I live in an apartment with thin walls.

Some trans-masculine people wanted to pursue careers where their singing voice was important. Are they not allowed to worry? Why is it selfish to express that feeling?

People love to act like trans women don't also worry about "insignificant" things. The amount of times I've met trans women who are concerned about losing penile length is too much.

"Oh look at the widdle trans girl, afraid she's gonna get a smaller penis, while trans men are out here getting raped and forcibly impregnated"

Yeah, not so funny when it's against you, huh?

[threegoldfish]

As much as Marc had listened for the whole of that group meeting so far, surprisingly less bothered by everything than he had expected to be - almost a bit curious at the edges there, despite his own brain telling himself that he doesn't care, doesn't give a fuck, just wants to leave and... go somewhere, to a place he can't ever return to - he is actually listening a lot more once that one guy speaks up, talking about coffee---

---And that, somehow, catches Marc's attention. He knows why that is, honestly: A veteran talking about what Marc had done as well, each and every day, while being stationed at different places - had a cup of coffee in the morning, burnt and too bitter to be comfortable, just that he'd indulged in plopping a sugar cube into it whenever they were able to get their hands on some. He remembers Buck, who would manage to get his hands on coffee creamer every now and then, even - the powery one, much worse than milk but so much better than nothing, honestly. Remembers them all sitting in around that gas cooker in the early morning, waited for that damn water to come to a boil, each holding a metal cup filled with instant coffee as silence stretched... the quiet before the possible storm.

Marc had a cup of bitter coffee this morning, as he did the day before. The... couple of days before that, when he could still remember him having been him and... not... someone else, whoever that had been. Not Steven, he reminds himself, shifts a bit on his seat again. Routine it is for him, a routine that he would miss if he were to stop doing it.

...Isn't it odd how he also feels himself agreeing with that other guy there, talking about missing the sound of things? Marc had always hated it, to hear Gabriel snore, Buck talk in his sleep, Paul farting like his life depended on it. And yet, silence is worse.

Silence had always been worse, because it meant that something had happened before. Someone died, someone got injured, someone had to leave - silence. A change of sound. A change of something someone got so used to, something that brought comfort in knowing that everything is happening the way it's supposed to, and nothing bad had managed to penetrate that circle of soldiers waiting for any kind of mission to come in.

And silence also meant death to others. Marc wouldn't listen to anything else than gunshots being fired for days on end, bombs exploding somewhere, screams and cries and shouts, commands being told at him through that button in his ear, the mobile radio. He'd hated every second of it, every shot of a bullet, every cry of a mother, but silence? Worse. So, so much worse.

Silence meant someone had won, another one had lost a fight. Silence meant walking across dirt and rubble, taking a look at what casualties they had to report back to their superiors. What results had come out of that fight, that try to bring peace while causing pain and sorrow...

Change can be frightening. And it’s easy to be scared of bad things happening, when you’ve had bad things happen before.

"...I was stationed in Cairo, more than once." Marc's voice is quiet as he speaks, syllables only leaving him after another moment of silence has passed - no one else wanting to say anything for the time being, it seems. And Marc... just sits there, doesn't know whether he'll regret saying anything, but...

Well, he probably will. But it is what it is. That man over there? A fellow soldier. Perhaps he can relate, in some way.

Dark eyes keep looking at that white floor, don't dare to move even an inch. Marc can tell that he's being looked at - but he thinks that, as long as he's not looking straight back at whoever is staring, they won't be able to spot that vulnerable side of his.

"Told myself I'll never miss the damn heat. Always too hot, and yet you were supposed to keep your stuff on - at all times. Too dangerous to take anything off, really. You're sweating and everything fucking stinks, you hardly had the chance to take a shower - just a good rub with a towel, if you were lucky. ...I hated it, the whole of that - the way my clothes were soaked after five minutes, the way even sleep wasn't giving us any relief; The air did cool down a bit at night, but those tents? Stayed hot all night. Too many bodies squeezed into a too tight space for any oxygen to circulate. Yeah, our coffee was shit as well, but sometimes we had sugar to put into it. Helped a little."

Part of Marc knows he's rambling, and perhaps nothing he's saying there is even of interest to anyone, but... he just keeps going. Words follow one after another; Perhaps that is because he's never spoken to anyone about such things, and... it feels... a little freeing, in an odd way.

"...As said, hated every single second. Now I'm here, and what is it I'm doing every fucking morning? Get a cup of coffee. And as I sit there, at that damn white table with breakfast in front of me... I miss them. I miss sitting around a stupid gas cooker at 4 in the morning, waiting for that water to come to a boil. Miss having to listen to that asshole talking about his wife for the millionth time. Miss having Buck offering me a spoon full of coffee creamer, one that he managed to steal from whereverthefuck. ---We never asked, no one ever wanted to know. I am also cold, and... I miss the heat. I fucking do."

A pause, and Marc inhales, then exhales. Getting stuck, all of a sudden. He blinks, looks up briefly, finally - just to meet another guy's gaze, to which he glances to the side immediately, stretches his neck a bit. Presses his lips into a tight line.

"The noise. Hated every bit of it. Now I miss it as well. ---Silence always meant something real bad had happened - whether it was good for our mission or not, the outcome always sucked. Someone died, someone lost. Yeah, someone won, but... at what cost? ...Now everything's fucking silent. No routine. Me being stuck in this place. As much as I hated a few of my comrades, as much as they... pushed and poked. Caused me bruises and whatnot, spat and laughed and taunted---"

Oh shit, that one he didn't even want to say. Marc blinks, clears his throat, shifts once more and turns his head to the other side - looking out of one of those windows, avoiding everyone on purpose there.

"...---Anyways. It's different now. And I hate that it's different. Never did anything else, never wanted anything else in the first place. Joined the army straight after high school, just so I could move out. ...I miss the noise, I miss the smell, I miss the structure, I miss the purpose. ...There's just no purpose aymore..." ... "Yet, at the same time, I don't miss it at all. I want the silence, I want the smell of something different. The fuck am I supposed to do with that? Don't know what I want. All of that at the same time, makes no sense. No purpose..."

He trails off, finally - remains silent. Ashamed, now, for having spoken up in the first place. Embarrassed, awkward.

Arthur’s gaze moved gently from one speaker to the next, the soft arch of his brow being more than enough to urge people into talking. There truly wasn’t much pressure, if only because applying it would undo everything that the group was meant for; it was supposed to be casual, quiet, comfortable. 

Arthur noted that Marc hadn’t moved much; but he also noticed that Marc did seem to be listening. Following the stories, at least in some way - he was alert, if only quietly, and it meant that he was listening. Arthur noted it without showing it, but he also couldn’t help his soft exhale in relief. 

The veteran shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was stationed near Kandahar,” he offered. “Six-month rotation. Got caught in a blast, shoulder got messed up, hearing’s never been good. Not the part that gets me, though.” 

There was a small murmur that ran through the circle, soft hums in apology or little sounds to indicate focus. 

“It’s the coffee,” the man continued. “Every morning, we’d drink the same shitty coffee. Cheap, overboiled - tasted like fuckin’ burnt rubber. Hated the shit. Thought I’d never touch it again, when I got home.” 

A few people nodded, no one looking bothered by the fact that the story didn’t seem to be going much of anywhere - just listening, politely. Happy to not be alone here, maybe, or just happy to have someone’s problems to focus on other than their own. 

“But when I did get home, I missed it,” the man continued. “I’d make a pot in the same old metal press and just sit on the porch and drink it. I’d burn it on purpose. Put it in a tin mug. Guess you just miss the worst fuckin’ parts of shit, because it had structure.” 

Arthur nodded, his eyebrows again furrowed. “Ritual is powerful,” he agreed. “Even if it begins in hardship. Memory is where we store pieces of ourselves, isn’t it? Good and bad, every part of ourselves is tucked away in our memory. Even if we don’t access it consciously, our body keeps it close. And these things, these memories, can help us see who we really are.” 

He didn’t push for anyone immediately, just giving them a moment; as expected, someone picked it up. 

“It’s not a routine I miss,” voiced one of the quieter men. “It’s sound.” He was picking at his sleeve, pulling at a thread on it as he spoke; watching it, as it was easier than looking around at the group. “I used to live near a train. It was awful. Every night it would come by, all loud and stuff, and it’d wake me up. It drove me insane, y’know. But I guess I liked knowing that there were people who were around me, and stuff. And like, no matter what I did, that train would always be there. And I miss that.” 

Arthur’s expression was soft, nodding. “Sure,” he agreed. “Noise can be a big comfort. Especially when it’s out of your control. There’s safety in knowing that something will happen, no matter what.” 

The teen from earlier shifted, scratching his thigh as he nodded. “I used to see my sister,” he offered. “Like… in doorways, and stuff. Every night before I sleep, she’d come and see me. But then she went to college, and now it’s like… I dunno. I guess I started thinking I’d never see her again. Even though she came by every Christmas, and stuff.” 

Arthur nodded once more. “Change can be frightening,” he agreed. “And it’s easy to be scared of bad things happening, when you’ve had bad things happen before. It’s not bad, it’s just your mind’s way of being careful.” 

Everyone nodded in the same way they always did, as if Arthur were preaching a sermon. It was a mixture of being polite and being genuine, one that Arthur was happy for; it was fortunate that today seemed to be a calmer session. It was good for Marc’s first time visiting, he liked to think; his gaze traveled to Marc, lingering just a moment, silently asking if there was anything he wanted to say. 

[miyagi-hokarate]

Hi❤️ do you think Daniel Larusso's skin color (brown) was one of the reasons why he was bullied in the kk1 movie? He was obviously not as rich as the other kids and was a working class kid, but do you think the bullying had something to do with the color of his skin? Especially in the 80s, I'm just assuming you're from America. So do you happen to know how he was perceived by people then and now? When I first watched the movie and I saw Daniel I instantly felt a connection because he was/is brown. I genuinely thought he was latino, Mexican, Indian or part of another minority group. Him winning was so satisfying to see. Also, do you think his less masculin and more feminine features are also what made people bully him? I would love to hear your interpretation!💙

Hohohohooo boy, we're gettin' to the good stuff: why Daniel is so bullyable 🙏 (← not praying; rubbing hands in evil glee)

In all seriousness, let's talk about it!

(under a Read More because it got LONG 🤡)

Watching The Karate Kid, the most apparent reason Daniel gets bullied and excluded by others is because of Johnny being threatened by his flirting with Ali and the violent beginning to their relationship. The Cobras terrorize him alongside Johnny because they're not only his friends, but because they're just as ruthless when it comes to people they've made enemies of. That being said, I could certainly say there is an argument to be made that the bullying Daniel experiences has an underlying racial and sexist subtext to it.

I've seen some anecdotal claims that people have confused/assumed Daniel to be a POC — not only because of his tan skintone, but also partially because of how much that combined with his dark hair + eyes would stand out next to pale or "sunkissed" blondes. While it's arguable how much Daniel was excluded and bullied CONSCIOUSLY because of such, I think it's fair to say that those physical qualities Daniel possessed helped to isolate him from his peers and further establish the loneliness Daniel struggled with due to Johnny's aggression.

I'd also like to bring up how, while it's treated as a joke these days, Italophobia was a more present issue during the 80s, especially for darker Italians (which would include Daniel). I'm not going to dig deep into the history of Italophobia in the US here, but "Italians aren't White" sentiments still existed during this era. And with such an obviously Italian surname as 'LaRusso', I can't imagine this slice of WASPy California HADN'T noticed. While not exactly the same as 'greaseball', you could catch Bobby calling Daniel a "sleazeball" during soccer tryouts. Stepping stones before you whipped out 'wop', Brown?

Additionally, I'd also like to make a point that, behind the scenes, it was also considered particular seeing Ralph Macchio and Elisabeth Shue together. According to Macchio, John Avildsen had one time stopped him once to say this:

While I don't imagine the director had meant it in a malicious way, his comment does point out the underlying "issue" present, seeing a girl who looks so much like the 'American Girl' archetype romantically paired with a visually striking dark Italian boy. I hate it when "ethnic" is used to describe something/someone, but it is often used as a way to distinguish when something/someone is clearly of a cultural/ethnic background that doesn't align perfectly with the cultural image of 'American' (which is a whole issue in and of itself, but that's a separate topic). In this case, I think Avildsen saw the striking peculiarity of, as he put it, the cannoli (Italian) with the strawberry shortcake (American), opposite ends of the bakery case. Avildsen may have been able to appreciate the balance (heh) made by their physical differences working in unison — and he's right, they do look terrific together — but I point this out because it reveals the perception of race and multiethnic relationships of the era that I'm sure is apparent in the universe of The Karate Kid as well. I'm sure some people in West Valley High were unlike Avildsen and thought there was something wrong with "a girl like her" to be with "a guy like him" that ran a different meaning besides the Hills vs. Reseda.

Furthermore, the racial subtext is not anything new about The Karate Kid. As early as 1984, it's been pointed out how Johnny and the Cobras were chosen to be (majorly) blonde and WASPy to contrast Daniel's "dark visage". Chad McQueen, the actor who portrayed Dutch, claimed Avildsen's desire for visual/racial contrast went as far as making it so that the naturally brunet McQueen bleached his hair — to reinforce the Cobras' "Aryan look".

The subtext is strong on this one.

It's undeniable that Daniel is a couple shades darker than most of the contemporaries his age. While The Karate Kid does not explicitly point towards Daniel's racial ambiguous looks or his evident Italian heritage upon further inspection, I could believe that those two qualities — which are associated and correlate with Daniel's East Coast, working class family background — further isolated Daniel from making friends after Johnny had placed a metaphorical 'kick me!' sign on his back.

Before I move onto the second question, I'd like to point out that Daniel bonds the closest with is Undeniable Person Of Color Mr. Miyagi, whose storyline centered much on isolation and alienation from others in California as well. Additionally, Daniel's first potential friend is Latino Freddy Fernandez, who shares Daniel's dark eyes and hair (and noticeably lacks the defining trait of blonde hair that Lucille points out so much about the state), as well as his history of being bullied.

Moving on, I'd say it's less obvious that Daniel's androgynous physical attributes play a role in the bullying he experiences, or at least it's discussed differently when talking about the film. At least for me, outside of Tumblr, the only time you'd hear somebody talk about Daniel's gender presentation or performance is less analytical and more... mocksome; blah blah blah Daniel is a wimp blah blah Daniel's a girly boy blah blah blah insert gay slur

This isn't anything new when it comes to insulting men/male characters people dislike, because it's been socially taught that a man's worst offense to his gender is not being man enough (whether because of a perceived lack of physical strength, leadership, masculine traits and qualities, heterosexual behavior, cisgender behavior, cisheteronormative interests and hobbies, sociability with other men, etc.). However, I think there is a noticeable and meaningful difference in the fact Daniel's often subject to ridicule, not only by audience reactions, but also in-universe as well (the subject at hand).

I know you only mentioned Daniel's physical characteristics, so I'll try not to talk so much on his actions and behavior as well, but they do accompany one another. A topic for another day.

I wouldn't necessarily say Daniel has more feminine features, but he does have certain ones that are generally associated with femininity (thicker lips, large eyes).

(I say only "associated", because the perception of masculinity and femininity changes so often throughout time and culture. While larger lips and eyes are considered universal qualities of femininity, certain other traits are far more complicated (for example, Daniel has long eyelashes. In fact, fanartists often emphasize his lashes. Long lashes are often considered feminine, even though men typically have longer, natural eyelashes than women. But because women have historically used products to emphasize their lashes, they're considered feminine))

Daniel of course was first bullied because Johnny felt threatened by his presence with Ali. However, I do believe he continued to be targeted by Johnny and the Cobras because of a variety of reasons, one of which is not helped that Daniel does not fit the mold of masculine male youth.

Because hey, if he isn't fitting in, or isn't fitting in right, he deserves to be punished for it! That's the attitude that permeats a lot of bullying behavior; noticing or seeking out qualities that transcend/transgress against societal expectations and punishing the person for it, whether they're doing it on purpose or not. I'm not even going to get into Reagan era of presidency, but he damn sure had a part on this mindset.

In the case with Daniel, he's perceived as transgressing a lot, according to Johnny; not only is he trying to make a move on Johnny's girl (except they had broken up by that point), got involved in places he didn't belong in (picked up Ali's stereo to give it back to her), sucked ass at fighting back against Johnny with only one stray sucker punch, and decided to keep showing his face around school and even the dojo like he belongs, but Daniel does all that looking like a girl! Let's beat his sissy ass up!!

Hell, you could see this in the infantilizing/feminizing nicknames he gets throughout The Karate Kid ('sweetheart', 'prima donna', 'Danielle', 'wimp', etc.). The Cobras are written to make it a point often to attack Daniel based on his perceived lack of masculinity (such as his supposed weakness) and equal it to femininity, and thus as something bad.

I could elaborate more on this and how it's further exacerbated by Daniel's perceived lack of masculinity due to his actions and behavior, buuuut I'll leave it at that lol.

Admittedly, I don't have as much to say on this topic compared to the racial subtext, simply because 1. Daniel's physical characteristics are rather surface-level and easy to understand upon sight in my opinion (just look at 'im), and 2. again, just trying to keep it about Daniel's physical characteristics. THAT BEING SAID: there's a lot to say about gender presentation, gender roles, and gender paradigms in The Karate Kid, even outside Daniel (though of course, as the main character, he gets a lot of the analysis surrounding him) — and while I love talking about this subject, I'd said quiiiiite enough for now ajdlkajfjskf

Overall, I hope you enjoyed my thoughts on the racial/sexist subtext of Daniel getting bullied! I know it was a lot, but it's something I think a lot of hafkkshfjks

[yellowwwcrayon]

Ok but think about Junho using Recruiter to lure his brother off the island. Recruiter goes along with it because he's bored and he hates Inho's new restrictions about what he can do to people during the off-season. They intentionally leak a video feed of what looks like him being violent to Junho in a sexual act (but it was Junho's idea and he happily went along with it). It somehow works and Inho's mad enough to track the man down to personally kill him (Recruiter has a chip implant too), but he's ambushed by the Gihun crew before he's able to complete the task.

Gihun tasers him in the neck.

Inho wakes up handcuffed in the motel, duct tape over his mouth, to the sight of Junho pulling the bullet out of Recruiter's shoulder. The guy gets up and slaps him hard. He's like "I've always wanted to do that. Almost worth getting shot" and slaps Inho again. Junho's just sitting there and watching them, and when their eyes meet, he shrugs and says "you deserved that, hyung."

He doesn't react. There's blood dripping out of his nose. But when Recruiter goes over to Junho and tugs him into a kiss, Inho starts struggling so hard he almost breaks his thumb pulling his arm out of the cuffs. Gihun has to taser him again.

Gihun: You two don't have to do that anymore. We caught him. Recruiter: What does this have to do with him? Gihun: Ugh.

Imagine the pure rage Inho would have if they were left alone while he was still cuffed and Recruiter's like casually sharing sordid details about Junho's body, like he knows there's a coin-sized birthmark on his left buttcheek or he has these cute little silver stretch marks on the insides of his thighs from growing too fast during his teenage years, and that transplant scar, he's come on that scar and inside him. Multiple times.

And Hwang Inho's just staring at him the way he stared at Jungbae, like he's looking at a dead man.

I think all of them working together to bag the Frontman would be so funny. And Gihun has to talk/taser him down from strangling the Recruiter with his bare hands too many times to count. Even when Inho's eventually set loose they have to repeatedly pull him off the guy who is like a whole foot taller than him.

[asher-agere]

hello asher! i love your account. i was wondering if you'd feel comfortable doing babyspace chuuya headcanons + cg dazai? i understand your age range for him is 3-6, so it's perfectly fine if you choose to turn this down. thank you :3

YAY I MADE IT TO THE NEXT ONE. MORE BABY CHUUYA FOR THE WORLD. And thank you so much for saying you love my account! Hehe you’re so sweet

Baby Chuuya + Caregiver Dazai

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

⛦ Starting off with the age range! Since receiving this request I’ve actually upgraded his age range to be 3-7 normally. But! This isn’t kiddo Chuuya! It’s an itty bitty baby! Soooo I’m lowering his age range to be 1-4 instead! Covering the baby age range pretty well, but also like there’s still a chance of him being on the younger side of toddler age range because I’m sorry he’s so toddler coded I can’t help myself. But he’s mostly a baby!! Most of the time he’s more in the 1-3 range it’s just sometimes he’s a whole 4 years old

₊ ⊹ This is. A stolen idea but I need to make sure it sees the proper light of day. On my last baby Chuuya post @lullabymeows talked about Chuuya flipping Dazai off. But like manually because he’s lacking motor skills? Like he needs to push his other fingers down. And that’s just the cutest thing ever??? He absolutely does that. The sassy baby ever I love him so much I’m holding that headcanon so so so close to my heart now and forever

⛦ Nicknames time! I love Soukoku and their endless list of nicknames… Dazai uses the most pet names since Chuuya struggles with talking! The usual ones like “Mutt” and “Slug”, but also ones that emphasize how little Chuuya is! Both in headspace and size hehe. So things like “Chibi” and “Little One”! Chuuya tries saying “Dazai” and “Mackerel”, but it ends up just being “Dada” and “Mama” which Dazai teases him about! Poor baby can’t talk right… If Chuuya gets too embarrassed Dazai backs off on the teasing though (Just a little bit)

₊ ⊹ Chuuya wants to be active! He has soooo much energy. But little to no coordination (¬⤙¬ ) You know what that means? Tummy time! He just gets laid out on a mat with some toys within reach! He gets to wiggle and squirm around and it’s so much fun! He likes rolling over onto his back and floating his plushies with his ability! Though he starts crying because he’s uncomfortable ( ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) Poor Dazai is a little exasperated because. Chuuya asked for tummy time. So why is he on his back? Obviously he’ll be uncomfortable on his back! But the baby doesn’t have that much logical reasoning… Dazai can’t stay mad of course

⛦ Little Chuuya loves to color! He can’t color in the lines to save his life, all his pictures look very messy. But it’s so much fun! He especially likes coloring in puppies of course! Chuuya doesn’t like drawing because he’s so uncoordinated that his drawings are completely unidentifiable. Which is fine if it’s just Chuuya! But Dazai guessing the drawings wrong really upsets him… So they just stick to coloring! And Dazai treasures each and every picture! He always keeps at least one in his wallet and plenty on the fridge

₊ ⊹ If you ask Chuuya… Dazai’s a super annoying caregiver ( •̀⤙•́ ) Dazai’s always teasing and taunting him… And it’s not fair! What does Chuuya do when he’s mad? Drowns himself in plushies of course. He’ll bury himself in his dog plushies, because most of his plushies are dogs let’s be honest. Then Dazai won’t wanna go near him! Cause Dazai hates dogs duh. Dazai’s solution is to whine and complain about how lonely he is without his baby in his arms! Eventually Chuuya caves of course and goes back to Dazai. But he pouts for awhile!

⛦ Chuuya definitely isn’t able to talk properly. Words are hard for an itty bitty baby! So technically he’s nonverbal? But that doesn’t mean he’s quiet! Oh no definitely not. This baby is babbling constantly. It’s hard to get him to stop babbling honestly! Dazai loves mistranslating the babies babbles even is he knows what Chuuya’s really asking for. But if Chuuya’s really excited about something Dazai won’t mess with him to much hehe. He’ll just encourage conversation! He wants to hear alllll his babies thoughts!

₊ ⊹ Ok normally I see Chuuya as a juice drinker. BUT. There’s something so baby about drinking milk… I can’t see him liking plain milk though, or even angel milk. You know what he absolutely loves though? Chocolate milk! It’s sugar which means he still feels energetic but it’s still thick and more filling like milk. He usually likes it cold but if he’s snuggling down for a nap or something he does really like hot cocoa! It’s just the warm milk makes him sleepy. He doesn’t want that when he’s trying to play! Then he won’t be able to focus on playing!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

So PJSK fans… Somehow I’m ranking like top 3000??? I guess I’m tiering idk I didn’t mean to it just happened- I wonder if I can get to top 1000 :0

[DNI ID: A white box with a brown border on the left and an orange border on the right. Dazai on the left and Chuuya on the right. Brown text reads “DNI if your blog isn’t child safe” orange text reads “I will block NSFW accounts” End ID]

[anginophobia]

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕤

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: After a long day at work, your only stress release was your favorite game at the end of the day.

But when the game suddenly crashes and stops working, your left with your own thoughts, confused and irritated, until there is an unexpected guest to come visit you.

Who could it be?

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: smut (towards the end), mention of a knife

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,396

ℝ𝕖𝕟 𝕩 𝕄𝕒𝕝𝕖!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝟙𝟠+ !!ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊!!

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝔼 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻: After a few nights of sleep deprivation, countless monster energy drinks, and working like a dog, I have FINALLY finished this Ren fanfic! I am working on two more fanfics from tkatb, so please be patient with me as I try to finish those up. Thank you. Enjoy!

You opened the door to your studio apartment, the whole apartment was dark saved for the moonlight peeking through your ugly brown curtains. The only ones you could afford with two jobs. You had just gotten back home from a long torturous day at one of your jobs, the one you hated the most, being a waiter at a “fancy” restaurant. It was nothing but a downgrade Olive Garden that called itself fancy because of the overpriced meals that aren’t even considered a meal. You hated that job, hated being there, standing all day, taking orders from people who would spit on you for getting a drink mixed with someone else’s. You hated it. But you couldn’t quit, you needed the money.

Your second job wasn’t that bad, working as a sales associate has its perks, but the pay still sucked, but it was better than nothing, if you were being honest. The sales associate pay plus the waiter job makes good money when combined together, it was how you were able to afford this crappy studio apartment at such a cheap price. There was a rat problem and some of the electrical shit is too old to still be in use, but the landlord didn’t care. This apartment is better than nothing.

You dropped your bag of old leftovers your boss so generously gave to you, closing the door behind you with your foot. You walked slowly to the couch, face planting in the cushions. You were so tired. Tired of going to work, tired of getting up in the mornings. You were just tired. You sighed into the cushions, lifting your head up slightly to look at the clock on your wall, trying to make out what it says in the dark.

11:52 at night. Damn. Letting out another sigh, you sat up, rubbing your face with your hand. You smelled like sweat and despair. Time for a shower. Reluctantly, you got up from the couch, not even bothering with the old leftovers in the bag on the floor by the door. You were planning on throwing it out anyways.

You got undressed in the bathroom, stripping off your work clothes and tossing them into the hamper by the bathroom door. The bathroom was small, really small. And ugly. The lower half of the bathroom wall had a pale ugly yellow tiling, while the upper part of the walls were white, the paint chipping away at the corners. There was a long slim window next to the toilet, a design flaw, but at least you couldn’t look out or in the bathroom, since it’s so fucked up. There’s a big crack in it and finger smudges on it from the last tenant. You were too scared to clean it. A small sink accompanied the bathroom, the sink being attached to the wall, a small mirror above the sink. The shower was across the sink, an old walk-in shower, the floor an ugly yellow like the wall tiles.

You turned on the water, the pipes whining softly from being turned on. You swear, one day the pipe is going to burst. Once the water was as warm as it could get, you got in, wetting your hair. The shower head sucks ass, but you knew saying anything to the landlord could get you kicked out, so you dealt with it.

After a somewhat good shower, your hair and body clean, a towel wrapped around your waist as you headed to your bedroom, which looked better than the bathroom did. To be honest, you didn’t even care for the bathroom like you did your bedroom. Your bed was in the middle of your room against the wall, the bed messy. You had a nightstand beside the bed, a few wrappers and empty plastic cups on it. The room was slightly messy, a few clothes on the floor and some crumpled pieces of paper around the trash bin that you lazily threw and just never picked up. You had a gaming system in the corner of your room. It was more expensive than the apartment itself, with the gaming computer on the desktop, long monitors on each side of the computer. It was nice, expensive but nice.

You laid on your bed, letting out a soft sigh, closing your eyes. You could sleep like this, but you knew you'd probably get sick if you slept with wet hair and a wet body. Wouldn't that be nice?

With a reluctant sigh, you got up and properly got dressed in boxers, not bothering with a T-shirt. You sat in your gaming chair, turning on your computer. 

During the day, you always work, so at night, you have all the free time you could have. Even today, you might've gotten off work early, but it didn't mean you didn't fall asleep in your car for a few hours. But at night, you were something else entirely, playing a character to a game who isn't you. 

Visual novels were your specialty.

You loved being a whole new person, someone to get away from your real life problems and late bills. You had many identities for different games, but recently you became obsessed with one particular game. It had caught your attention a week ago, just scrolling to find something else to pass the time.

14 Days With You.

It started to become really popular when you found out about it, which compelled you to get it and play it. Now it's your obsession. You can't stop playing it, even after doing all the routes and options, good and bad, but you couldn't just stop. Not when the main love interest is fucking hot, the murderous-possessiveness a bonus! Ren. You could say you were obsessed with him. Maybe not as much as he was with you, but enough to keep an interest in him. You liked his hair, his pastel pink-blue hair that reached his shoulders, his cozy-core aesthetic. But you loved his lore, the way he acts self-aware at the very end of the game. You knew it was just a game, but you still loved it.

Once the computer booted up, you immediately double clicked on the game you wanted, it being 14dwy, of course. It's always been that game recently, no other game mattered than that one the most to you. You pressed the start button, putting in all the correct settings for your character before starting. Pink, shaky words popped up on the black screen, bringing a smile to your face.

“... Angel? You're back...? Hah~ I can't wait to see you again, angel…”

Then the game started, bringing you back to day one, into the player's apartment. You began playing. You decided to do the bad ending this time, wanting to see what would happen if you kept getting the bad ending. You've only got the bad ending once, and then just didn't do it again. Not this time.

You played through the game the first time, the computer screen turning black, those pink words showing up again. Man, you loved seeing those pink words on your screen. You repeated this step again, picking the bad options until the screen turned black again, pink shaky words appeared.

“... Why don't you just play the game normally? That way, neither of us will have to be stuck in this dark void… I love being with you… watching you interact with everything… Everything is so bright and colorful when you're around… Will you let me out? …Please let me out. It's no fun here!!! I want to be with you!!!!!! … I love you!!!!!”

Those words appeared on your screen, red and shaky, at every inch, saying “I love you!” Over and over. You've never dared to go beyond that, but this side of Ren… You kept playing, determined to get more of the “dead ends” as the fandom had called them. You didn't know where it would lead you, but your excitement was clear; you needed to know. Once again, after another attempt of getting a bad end, the screen became black, pink words showing up.

“... Are you alright? Don't overwork yourself, angel. I should apologize… I didn't mean for this to happen. I should've helped you out more. The choices you're making and the path you're going down… it's not what I… no, never mind… look, you have to know, I can't keep doing this for you, angel. I can't keep preventing you from getting to my bad end. You won't like what happens… you won't like… it. It's not as kind as me. Not as soft or lenient. It will sense your fear and feed off of it. Even if you give it just a small dose, it won't… it won't… it won't…”

The screen turned red for a split second before a flash of something came on your screen, making you just in your chair, startled, your headphones almost falling down your head. The screen turned black again, the pink shaky words showing themselves once more. How have you not gotten to this point before?

“See? It's scary, but it won't hold back. It deserves to rot in here with me. … It deserves to die.”

The screen is red again, red shaky words jumbling together, unable to make out a few words besides a couple like “In the darkness”, “void of my light”, “deserves to die”, many more like that, but you could hardly read most of it. The words disappeared, as if Ren was calming down from his little tantrum.

“I'm sorry, did I scare you again? I can't help it, being here for so long… everything takes a toll on you. It makes me feel this way…forces me to… I won't hurt you. Don't worry. I'll protect you from it. It doesn't deserve you… but I do. I do!! I do!!! I do!!! I do!!! I do!!! I do!!! Do I??? I do!!! I do!!! I do!!!”

You stared at the red shaky words of “do I?”, which made your heart sink. “Of course you do, Ren. All of my love is only for you.” You whispered, knowing that he couldn't hear it. The pink words showed up again. But this time, reading it had made your heart stop for a beat.

“Really?! You mean that, angel? Oh, I love you so much, more than anything or anyone in this world! You're my light in this dark void… I am going to help you this time. Please, let me guide you…”

Then the screen turned black again, then to the main menu. What the fuck was that? He couldn't have heard you, right? He just couldn't! He isn't real, despite creating fake scenarios about meeting him and being with him. Maybe you're just tired? Yea, that has to be it, right? It has to be. You decided to play one more time, skipping the directions he had set out for you in glitchy texts, only to be back on the black screen. It stayed like that for a moment, which made you think if you've broken the game, until the pink words appeared.

“... Hah~... Hahah~... You love me, right? What's to say that we can't be together in your world? … I'm coming for you, angel.”

When the main menu popped up, Ren was gone. You tried to click on the start button only to be kicked out of the game. You swore softly under your breath, hating the bugs in this game. That's what happens when you get an unfinished demo game. You looked at the time, seeing that it was 1:43 in the morning. You need to sleep, you have to go to work in the morning. With a groan, you turned off your computer and headed to bed. 

You plopped onto the bed, letting out a yawn, your eyes closed. You'll play the game tomorrow after work. Hopefully the game will let you in.

Two days had passed since the game had let you in, since Ren had disappeared from the main menu. It worried you that the game wouldn't load or even start. Did you ruin the game from playing it too much? You hoped you didn't, you really liked the game and still had to discover most of the game's aspects! Maybe you should redownload it? 

You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door, getting home from yet another day of work at your sales associate job, today being worse sense it's getting close to Halloween. You loved Halloween, but hated decorating the whole goddamn store only for people to fucking ruin it with their tantrums and yelling. God you hate people. Even more than before, if that was even possible.

You went inside your apartment, closing and locking the door behind you, taking your shoes off at the door. Then, you noticed a pair of extra black shoes. You blinked. Did you have an extra pair of shoes? You probably did, but just didn't remember, but the shoes didn't seem like your size. Did you get the wrong size on accident? You shrugged, heading to your bedroom, not noticing something in the corner of your apartment, hidden in the shadows.

As you opened your dresser drawer to take some clothes out for a shower, there was a sound in the kitchen, like something had been knocked over. You stopped what you were doing, just standing, waiting, listening. When you thought you just heard something that wasn't there, going back to picking up a shirt, there was another noise, a sound of glass breaking. You went rigid, frozen in place. Someone was in your apartment.

You set the shirt down, slowly moving to your nightstand, slowly opening the drawer to take out a small pocket knife, something you got when you moved into the apartment for protection. Carefully, slowly, skipping over the floorboards that creak if you step on them, you make your way out of your bedroom, looking out towards the kitchen. When you didn't see anything move, you made your way to the kitchen, the pocket knife open, ready to swing if need be. When you walk to the kitchen with slow ease, you look around, only to find a broken glass and a plastic cup on the floor, the glass a small plate that you use for small meals. You frowned, but didn't see anyone in the kitchen. When you turned, someone grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to them. You instinctively dropped the knife to the floor, hearing clatter from being dropped.

You felt the person wrap his arms around you, holding you close to him. The smell of clean linens invaded your nose, pink blue hair right beside your head.

“Oh, Angel! You have no idea what I had to do to come see you!” He said, nuzzling his face in your neck, his fingers gripping your work jacket. You were stiff in his arms, your mind processing the nickname he said. Angel? Wait. Who was this person?! How dare he break into your apartment and hold you like you were his lost lover!

Without another thought, you slammed your foot down on his, making him let go of you and step back. You quickly picked up the pocket knife, standing a good distance away from him, holding the knife up at him, only to be stopped dead in your tracks. What..? It was Ren, or someone who was cosplaying as him. He cursed under his breath, looking at his foot before looking at you, his expression full of hurt from your action.

“Angel? What's wrong? Didn't you want to see me? You said you loved me, don't you remember?” He reached out, only for you to swing your knife to him, making him retract his hand back, placing his hand close to his chest, and hurt on his face.

“Who are you? How did you get into my apartment? And why the hell are you cosplayed?” You asked him, keeping the knife up. He blinked, as if realizing how scared you might be by the situation that you have found yourself in. He smiled softly, as if understanding how strange everything is.

“It's me, Angel, it's Ren, remember? From the game? I came here to see you, to be with you. You kept picking the wrong choices, going down the wrong path that I had set out for you.” He placed a hand on his chest again, looking at you with hopeful eyes, like he was silently begging you to remember. You shook your head, your hands unsteady while trying to hold the knife. That's not possible, Ren wasn't real! It was just a game to escape reality, escape your problems of life.

“That's impossible, Ren isn't real, it's just a-”

“A game? Fiction?” He finished for you, looking at you with soft eyes. “But I'm here, I'm real. Don't you see? You told me you loved me, so I came to see you.” He tried to explain, his voice light.

“If that's true, then how did you get out of the game and into… my world?” You asked, caution laced in your voice. He just waved a dismissive hand, not bothering to answer that question.

“That doesn't matter, now that I'm here with you, when we can be together now. Forever. So please…” He raised a hand, this time slower, reaching out to take the knife. You didn't understand, it didn't make any sense to you, but you let him take the pocket knife with ease, placing it on the kitchen counter gently. With the knife out of your reach and out of the way, he turned to you again, opening his arms for you, as if giving you the option, the choice, to walk into his arms or not.

“Please, Angel, come to me. Open your heart to me like you did behind the screen.” He said, his voice soft and full of love.

Was this real? Was he telling the truth? You didn't know, none of it made sense; how he got there, where he knew where you lived, or even if it was the actual Ren, but…

Your feet started moving before your mind could catch up, letting him wrap his arms around you, holding you close to his chest. You could hear his heart in his chest, his heart racing against your ear. He laid his head on yours, his cheek on the top of your head, a smile on his face.

You didn't know if it was real or not. If he was real or not. But it felt real. Maybe that's just your delusion talking. Maybe you're just crazy.

You felt his hands move to cup your face, to make you look up at him, his scarred thumbs grazing your cheeks lightly, a small gentle smile on his lips. He looked at you with adoration, like you meant something to him. He looked real. With his loving blue eyes, his pink blue hair that reached his shoulders, his white turtleneck under his cream colored sweater. How could he not be real?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his smile never leaving his face. He wanted to kiss you? If he was the real Ren, what's stopping him from kissing you? Hesitantly, you nodded, uncertainty in your eyes. His smile widened as he leaned in slowly, giving you time to reconsider before his lips pressed against yours, soft and sweet. His lips felt soft against yours, his kiss gentle. You closed your eyes, relishing in the kiss.

You didn’t care anymore if this was or wasn’t Ren anymore, he acted like Ren, looked like him. That was enough to feed into your delusion. The kiss deepened slightly, his lips moving against yours, his head tilting slightly to deepen it more. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to taste you. Without a second thought, you opened your mouth for him, one of your hands moving into his hair, your fingers entangling themselves in his soft, silky hair. His hands found your waist, pulling you flushed against his body, his kisses becoming fervent, his fingers slipping up the back of your shirt slightly, as if needing to feel your bare skin on his fingertips. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t stop him from breaking the kiss, his lips kissing your cheek to your jawline, kissing to your neck. You didn’t stop him as he gently guided you against the wall of your kitchen, feeling his teeth bite down on your neck lightly, nipping at your skin, leaving faint marks.

You’ve been so busy lately, stressed, from your jobs and the apartment, you haven’t had time to do anything for yourself, nothing besides gaming, but it hasn't been enough. Could he tell? You felt his hand move slowly down, sliding down your chest, but it was hesitant.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly against your neck, his breath hot against your neck. Are you willing to let Ren, who may or may not be a cosplayer, touch you? To feel you at your most vulnerable? As long as they looked like Ren and didn’t murder you yet, you were willing to get whatever type of release that feeds into your delusions on how bizarre the situation is.

“Yes.” You said softly to him, and that was enough for him. His fingers unbuckled your work belt, unzipping your jeans and slipping his hand in, feeling your hard length pressing against your boxers. His breath hitch slightly against your neck, his hand gently squeezing your length, hearing you let out a soft sound. His lips continued their kissing and sucking, kissing downwards until he was on his knees, looking up at you, both hands now resting on your hips.

“Can I…? His face was red, unable to finish the sentence he was trying to form, hoping that you would understand what he was asking of you. You swallowed and nodded, watching him as he pulled your jeans down slightly, just enough to let your cock spring out of the confinement of your jeans and boxers, the tip slightly wet from precum already leaking. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, his hand reaching out and gently wrapping his fingers around the base, squeezing lightly as he looked up at you again, a small smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, Angel, I’ll make you feel good.” He said before leaning in, his lips wrapping around the tip, his tongue flicking out to lick the slit, tasting your precum. You let out a soft gasp, your hand instinctively shooting out and into his hair, an attempt to keep yourself grounded and he pushed his head forward, adding more of your cock in his mouth, until his nose was touching your pubic hair, the tip almost at the back of his throat. You let out a soft moan from the warmth of his mouth.

He started to bob his head, a hand holding your hip in place to keep you in place as he started sucking your cock slowly, savoring the taste of you. You moaned again, closing your eyes and leaning your head back on the wall, relishing the feeling of his tongue licking the underside of your cock, the feeling of his teeth occasionally lightly grazing your sensitive skin, making sure to not accidentally bite down. He hummed softly from the feeling of you in his mouth, the taste of you. It was better than he could imagine.

He kept going, sucking and licking like he was destined for this, his fingers wrapping round the base again, using his saliva to slowly stroke your cock, his tongue swirling around your tip, tasting more of the precum that started to leak from you. You let out more moans, not caring if your neighbors could hear you through these thin ass walls. Think of it as payback for all those sleepless nights you heard them going at it.

His mouth felt incredible, his tongue worshipped you, worshipping your cock. It was almost too much. Almost. You unintentionally thrusted in his mouth, seeking more of his mouth, your fingers gripping his hair, a sad attempt to keep yourself from cumming. He looked up at you, seeing your flushed cheeks, how you're biting your bottom lip. It brought a smirk to his lips.

He pulled your cock out of his mouth, his hand kept up its stroking on your cock. “You can cum, I wouldn’t mind it if you did…” He kissed the tip softly, his blue eyes never looking away from your face. You looked down at him, the sight itself was almost too much for you. You swallowed, your breathing uneven. It only made him want more. He licked up your shaft, earning a soft whimper from you.

“Come for me, Angel, let me taste you.~” He whispered to you against your cock, his hand moving faster, squeezing lightly, just enough to make your thighs shake slightly from holding yourself back. He licked the tip before sliding your cock back in his mouth, humming softly, looking up at you expectantly. That look he gave was your undoing.

With a hand on the back of his head, you thrust your cock in his mouth, needing your release, your fingers gripping his hair tightly, but he didn’t seem to mind or care. He just wanted to please you. ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝.

With another thrust to his mouth, you spilled yourself into his mouth with a groan, filling his mouth with your warm cum. He choked slightly, but swallowed it all, swallowing the taste of you. Once you were fully finished, utterly spent against the kitchen wall, trying to keep yourself up, he rose up from the floor, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“You did wonderful, Angel. You taste so sweet.” He kissed your jawline softly, one hand gently intertwined with yours, squeezing softly.

When you opened your eyes again, your eyes dazed from your release, you looked down, seeing your own cum covering your hand and jeans. You cursed at yourself for making a mess on yourself, for letting your imagination get out of control like that. You grabbed a tissue from your gaming desk, cleaning yourself off.

Oh, the things your mind can make up so vividly.

𝕀𝕗 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 ℝ𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕚𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝����.

[explodingchantry]

I was getting really into expedition 33, only to find the character I adore and that tore my heart to pieces is the subject of hot debate and discourse, with people absolutely despising him as if he's a war criminal, and the majority of the reasons why being that he lies. And I find that fascinating. He lies not just to other characters but to you, the player -- and this elicits such intense vitriol in the playerbase, veritable rancor that leads to some of the most bad faith takes and interpreterions...

... So of course, it makes me think of Anders. Everything reminds me of her etc etc -- but really, though. I've spoken to a lot of people over the years, looked into a lot of the discourse both from back then and current -- and the one recurring sentiment I've seen is that even people who otherwise sympathise with Anders are furious about the Lie. You know, him telling you he needs that stuff to separate him and Justice, rather than to explode the chantry.

And I mean, that's fair, right. It's a pretty monumental lie. A lot of players, if they knew what they were truly getting that stuff for, would've refused to help him. This leads players to feel manipulated, used -- and to be fair to them, it is manipulation. Anders feeds you false information for the purpose of making you help him. It is fair to be shocked and angry in the moment, upon realising what happened.

But what I find fascinating above all is that most of these people will then not take a moment to think about WHY exactly Anders lied, why he felt he had to lie. How, to him, this was too important to risk you saying no. How, even if you're max friendship, even if you're lovers, he can't take the risk of you saying no. But of course, there's the other angle to it -- the one that makes me truly unable to hold his lie against him, the one that breaks my heart above all: that he couldn't chance implicating you. Because, see: if he lies to you, if he gets this material from you via a trick, then you cannot be held responsible for his actions. He is protecting you. He is saving you. But few people are able to see that past their anger at being lied to in the first place.

I've met people who dislike, sometimes downright hate, Anders for The Lie and The Lie alone. They don't bring up his double standard with blood magic, or the shitty way with which he treats Merrill. The only thing they care about is The Lie.

Players really, REALLY hate being lied to. If it was instead Anders lying to, idk, Varric, whilst we know the truth -- a bunch of people would still be pissed, but nowhere near as much as this. It's specifically because he lied to Hawke, to the player, that people are furious about. And it does make sense: as the player, you are expected to be the driving force behind the narrative and have the choice in what you do, and even when you DONT have choice, you still feel largely in control as you at least are in possession of all the tools at your disposal to understand what it is your character is doing and why. To lie to the player is to take this sense of control and agency away, and that really rubs players the wrong way.

(there's also, obviously, the framing part of it all. But I've made plenty of posts about it. This is specifically about the lying aspect making people super pissed.)

I think understanding that -- the way lying to the player affects them -- can give game writers some very fun tools to mess with players I wanna see more often tbh LOL. But when it comes to Anders it is another tragedy, because his lie was born of good intentions. Of a wish to shoulder alone the weight of his act, whilst at the same time ensuring he could carry it out and save the people he saved.

[airasilver]

Chapter Three: Punishment

Willamina was going over her homework when her laptop was taken away.

Lifting her head to speak Willa gaped instead. “Mara?”

“Why do you have new scars on your back?” Mara demanded instead of saying hello, “You promised you wouldn’t let it happen again!”

“Lena caught some peoples attention. It was either I broke my promise to you or to Sia and Lena.” Willamina looked at her lap as she answered her cousin softly.

Willamina didn’t notice that her older siblings, father, and grandfather, were in the den as Mara growled, running a hand through her hair. “Ra’s wasn’t to happy was he? That’s why you have new scars on your back.”

“When is he ever?” Willa laughed brokenly, “He hates me and wants me gone but since Talia claimed me he can’t get rid of me without her starting an all out war. Only reason why he hasn’t gone against her is because I’m good in bed and I’ll step up to take punishments without argument; unlike Jason.”

“He needs to die; slowly.” Mara grumbled.

“Won’t happen until Talia does it and it won’t be for a few more years. She isn’t ready to take over everything yet. Great Grandmother will also be a problem.” Mina finally noticed the others and paled.

Mara rolled her eyes at her sister. “They need to know. Lena, Re, and Sia have Terry and Matt down for a nap and will probably join them; so stop freaking out.”

“I would have told them.” Mina grumbled.

“When? In two years?” Mara drawled.

Willamina shook her head. “I missed my period, twice.”

“Oh fuck,” Mara swore, “Is it…”

“I hope so. The pattern was exactly the same. Take Lena’s/Sia’s/your place, gone for a full day, come back, get whipped, inseminated, and then back to our regular routine just as Talia comes to visit,” Willamina shrugged, “Though this time Ra’s took his time and then Slade got us out while you gone. Why are you here by the way? Thought you were still on your mission for another month or two.”

“Aunt Adeline called, said you all were and with Bruce. Talia had come to give me some information and told me to come join you all. She also said to tell everyone she loves them and goodbye.” Mara and Willa exchanged looks at the last sentence.

“Miss Talia is moving up the timeline,” Alfred spoke, “She must have found out what was going on. Something you should have told me about, Willamina.”

“I’m sorry Grandpa. Ra’s threatened to kill you for good if I said anything. I know I should have though.” Mina apologized.

“If Gotham and war can’t kill me, Ra’s Al Ghul will never be able to.” Alfred’s voice was firm.

“What’s this about being inseminated?” Duke asked in confusion, “What do you mean by that?”

Willamina swore before apologizing at Alfred’s look. She also breathed deeply before answering Duke’s question.

Coming Home

Summary: Movement and Damian felt hands gripping his shirt and then falling away as he fell into a fighting stance.

Notes: Willamina was suggested to me on Tumblr as a name for another story. I didn’t use it in that one so I am here.

Chapter One: Shocked Surprise

Damian was the first person to get to the front foyer.

He was the first to realize who had come crashing into the Manor and so he reacted quickly.

“Willamina Mary Elizabeth come here, NOW!” Damian snapped as he pulled knives free.

Movement and Damian felt hands gripping his shirt and then falling away as he fell into a fighting stance.

Glaring at the man still on the floor, Damian ignored the footsteps that came to a halt as he spoke. “What the hell are you doing here Wilson?”

“That anyway to greet Willa’s protector?” Grant Wilson drawled as he held up his hands; though everyone knew he could still fight, even with no weapons.

“Answer the question.” Bruce stepped in front of his youngest and the woman he was protecting.

Grant rolled his eyes. “The kids were found and Dad said to take them to you while he dealt with the morons.”

“They?” Cass questioned; not seeing anyone else when she looked around.

“Aunt Adeline, Grandpa, and Joey have them. I insisted on coming with Grant; well me and Matty.”

The soft voice had the group looking at the woman fully for the first time.

Red hair was pulled back into a scarf, small strands escaping. Hazel eyes, more blue than any other color, peeked out from underneath the scarf.

A baby was peaking out from the dark green wrap she was wearing, blue eyes wide open in awe.

It was her clothes that finally pulled the family out of shock.

Dark blue leggings that were ripped and a bra that was mostly see through were the only things the woman wore and Jason made his displeasure known; loudly. “What in the name of Hades are you wearing?”

“A distraction. Now can you please finish whatever you’re going to do with Grant and then the others can come home and I can change into something comfortable?”

The women rolled her eyes.

“Go change Miss Willla. Mister Wilson, you’re dismissed. We won’t call on you again; you’re siblings on the other hand we will.” Alfred Pennyworth walked into the foyer with a group of children following behind him.

Joey waved before he pulled Grant out the front door. Adeline Kane nodded to the family and then left after giving Alfred a hug and saying goodbye to the children and Willa.

Willamina gave Alfred a sheepish smile when he looked at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know where Jason or Bruce’s rooms are except they are in the northwest wing.”

“Masters Terrance and Matthew need their naps so I’ll show you to Master Bruce’s room. He has enough pillows to make a wall for them to sleep in now and you may borrow a shirt from him. Though you will be getting clothing that covers a lot more than what you have on now.” Alfred spoke as he led the way past his speechless charges and up the stairs.

Two young girls followed Alfred, the darker one carrying a toddler. A boy smirked at Damian as he walked past.

Willamina was last up the stairs; leaving seven people just staring at their backs.

“Alfred’s alive?” Dick voiced everyone’s shock.

“Along with Athanasia, Repawn, and Helena who I was told died,” Damain mused, “Though I don’t know the other two.”

“Three new brothers,” Cass’ voice was firm, “Three new sisters.”

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[kawaii-kushami]

having one of those mid-20s moments where you're like well damn. im really not a teenager anymore i dont hate myself anymore actually. like its insane

sorry i gotta ramble but this feels too silly to post anywhere else

[asgardian--angels]

things I wish I could relive for the first time again:

that magical window where you finish a new piece of media, having watched/read it all by yourself with no fandom contact whatsoever, and you are just so happy about it, and full of interesting theories and takeaways, and just in love with it as a gorgeous piece of art.

because I swear to god as soon as you join the fandom for anything, you're bombarded with how you're supposed to view characters and their arcs, how you're supposed to morally and ethically judge the plot and the ways it apparently failed to present the right message, and if you don't you'll either be shunned for not sharing the popular headcanons or you'll be harassed for not criticizing the source material enough.

like how is it that the fans of a piece of media are also the ones being the most negative about it? If I like a show or a movie or a book, well, I liked it. That's kind of the point. I'm actually not here to tear it apart and talk about how it didn't live up to standards other people had! I enjoyed it for what it was, and forcing myself to find negative things to say about it doesn't actually bring me more enjoyment of it or reap any benefit to me. Fandom's a double-edged sword; you want to join a community to share your love for a piece of art, and the price you pay for a modicum of joy is a mountain of negativity. that's one main reason that I never engage with fandom until I'm completely done with a show, because if I was plugged into all of that commentary and discourse during the process, I'd be completely colored by how I'm expected to interpret everything this piece of art is presenting to me without being able to even form my own opinions.

[thebluebygracieabrams]

So I wrote this next song a few days before my nineteenth birthday. And, um, back then, I was so terrified of change, and I was especially afraid of growing up. And I'd, like, cry at all my birthday parties as a child. Very, very emo.

Now that I'm 21, I don't feel afraid of growing up at all. In fact, I'm really, really looking forward to it. And, um, if I could give any advice to the 18-year-old girl who wrote this song, I'd tell her not to worry so much, and that she has no idea how many magical, magical things are waiting just around the corner for her. So, uh, with that, here's "teenage dream".

- Olivia Rodrigo at the Guts World Tour before playing teenage dream

[rxttenfish]

Asking because I’m extremely curious about this, how did MonProm’s writing get different over time? I remember you saying that the lore and characters feel different, and that it's missing sincere character interactions, too. I know almost nothing about the lore and I’ve only seen a few people mention the characters, so I’d be interested in a rundown of what aspects you think got worse in the series

I wouldn’t mind a very long response since I’m not that active in the fandom, I need to catch up on what happened

sorry for taking so long to answer this! i kinda waffled on it for a long bit, mainly because i started doubting myself again, and whether or not this was me simply overreacting or being tinted by nostalgia or simply being extremely picky and choosy in what i like (the last of which is true, i seldom get into fandoms at all for this reason and stay away from most popular media, but i wasn't sure if it applied here). i've posted about it already, but i'm in the middle of a psychotic episode where i can't feel a lot of pleasure to begin with + most things i do experience ending up solidly in the "very bad" category, so as you can imagine, i really didn't want to mislead and check that i was actually in objective reality.

as it is, this is also when a lot more screenshots started to be posted in the monster prom tag, and that helped me bridge the gap back into returning to the games themselves and feel like i was making a more accurate judgement. if you're one of those people who have been posting screenshots, i sincerely thank you, and i appreciated seeing you in the tag greatly.

for those not in the know — i've been in the monster prom fandom since it first released, prior to even the first additional ending to be added (the "Punch the sun" ending, and i recall the minor fandom drama that happened at that time due to it). my impression of monster prom is very much influenced by this, as what got me into the first game was the fact that the characters genuinely seemed to care for each other and were friends with each other (not merely tolerating each other's presences nor dressing it up, they sincerely thought of each other as friends and were open about that fact), on top of the wide variety of small details and statements that, if taken at face value, could create compounding complexity in the lives of each and every character and had wider implications for their lives.

no, they were not necessarily explored nor even necessarily "real", with so many conflicting events and statements, but i liked this too, because it meant a wider flexibility in what you could imagine, helping to create a more tailored experience for everyone who thought about these characters. this was what i liked about the early fandom too. what was baseline "canon" was so vague and minimal that you could have wildly different interpretations of the same characters' histories and relationships with each other. you would have radically different perspectives on what the world itself looked like, what it was like, that there wasn't really any wrong answers so long as their personalities remained the same. this is where you got the old headcanon of polly and liam being childhood friends who knew each other as humans, or that the world of monster prom was post-apocalypse where humanity itself had gone extinct or only existed in tiny pockets, or my personal headcanon that both monster and human society existed right next to each other and had minimal crossover for petty cultural reasons. this was also prior zoe-as-ro, and there were wildly different interpretations of zoe's personality, with most going for a far more disquieting creepy-cute than the deep nerd we got.

this is why you get stuff like the timeloop theory, where everyone is repeating the same weeks leading up to prom over and over, and are perhaps vaguely aware of it but broadly unconcerned. this is also why it felt like the joke that, the characters were still in high school but were all fully legal adults with most in their 20's, best landed, because it was absurd and strange and didn't quite make sense, but the world itself was inherently absurd and semi-malleable to begin with. realistically, i felt like everyone understood it was making fun of the trope of having adults play teenagers in american sitcoms and wildly casting outside the age range, but for more in-universe explanations it wasn't any different from the way that you would have a large, dramatic ending in which everything changed, but then you'd restart and everyone would be right back at the beginning with nothing different, or even having conflicting events in the same run. it was a dream-logic that fit with the tropes and, thus, diagetically made sense.

to be clear, i don't mind canon having a set, well, canon on which it refers back to itself. i don't mind expanding that or including more things which are set in stone. but there was a perceivable shift in how the games handled this over time, becoming a lot more... bitter, it felt, towards all of these different branching ideas and concepts that, yeah, the people making them knew wouldn't necessarily be "canon" because "canon" already liked to contradict itself so much. most people weren't even sold on any one idea, and there was a much greater sense of enjoying and appreciating all the varying ideas people would come up with even if you personally didn't share them. making the characters be out of character was the real crime, because then it didn't diagetically make sense in the same way, didn't wholly fit.

(again, this is not to say fanon didn't happen and characters weren't smoothed down into a simplified personality that fit these varying fan-interpretations instead of the game itself. certainly damien love/lust was just as bad as it had ever been, and everyone loved to mangle his character into a more stereotypical "bad boy with a heart of hold" all the time. but it certainly felt less set-in-stone about it than it does now, with any deviation from the norm being considered strange and odd and even broadly shunned from the wider fandom.)

all of this is setup for establishing what the writing, lore, and characters felt like in the earlier days. the characters were the strongest part, with their relationships to each other being equally as important. the lore played it fast and loose and was far less interested in setting anything in concrete because that wasn't the important part. the lore wasn't the important part, which was what made it all the more intoxicating to think about, all the more fun to play with.

montrip is easily the biggest offender when it comes to setting everything in all-or-nothing terms and demanding absolutism from the world. broadly i blame the hitchhiker conversations for the worst of it, but i think ultimately the way they handled the entire premise of the game is where this problem stems from. it's not really an exploration in the same sense that you might explore the first game, discovering different perspectives and different people with different relationships to each other. it's an exploration in the sense of a sequel that over-explains the monster, that takes the most boring option out of all those that were possible and floating around and settles on something that was blatant, obvious, typically rejected not because of how novel it is but how trite and par for the course it is in the rest of the genre.

yeah, okay. humans know nothing about monsters and there's a "monster dimension" that exists separately from the human dimension. there's no crossover between the two of them. of course there's a big grand-scale fight between the eldritch powers that zoe used to be a part of, from which not only are slayers the main organization against them, but also the merkingdom has some horse in this race too. it's an urge to make things so universal in explaining them, in revealing connecting threads which unite everything that's ever happened in here, that makes the worldbuilding and lore immediately much more boring than it ever was before.

and it didn't have to be this way! nothing in the first game contradicts any of this too explicitly (see the above, the first game loves to contradict itself), and i would even be happy if this was basically canon but never stated or confirmed to be the big overarching everything going on underneath it all. i believe you should probably know these things about any world that you create and have them in the back of your mind. the difference is that you can know these things and keep them in mind, even focusing on things where its very relevant, and still not reveal them. this is why you have lore bibles, after all. every horror writer knows exactly how their monster works and the full underlying reason for everything that happens, but that doesn't mean the audience will see it or possess this same information too, and leaving it intentionally obscure will make far better stories.

which, this is bad enough, but it wouldn't be the breaking point for me if this was all there was.

but the worst thing of all has to be the slow decay of the very same characters that sold me on this world, this lore, this game in the first place. monster prom is nothing without the characters in it. it's a dating sim, it has nothing but characters to get you to play, and liking these characters are the entire reason anyone would pick up monster prom in the first place.

and the first game pulls this off extremely well. it's all in the tagline: be your worst self. they are, indeed, all terrible people. yes, even that character that you just thought of right now. they all have points in the game where they commit atrocities, where they kill or hurt people, where they do inexcusable things that could not be ignored in a more serious setting.

but that's the point. i think there's something very powerful in creating a character who not only do you love and love their personality and the way they interact with the world, but who also are inapologetically terrible, and to have the humor and the charisma be so good that you don't get bogged down in the "this is awful". likewise, it never feels the urge to really go out of its way to justify what's going on. this is not to say theres no discussion of if someone "deserved it", but usually there's still the sense that the joke is on them, that this is still an extreme reaction specifically for comedy and not necessarily something that can be justified. you can have damien set leonard on fire and have it feel earned, without prompting the needed reaction of what it's actually like to watch someone burn to death.

this is what sets the prank masterz ending apart from the rest of the game, and really establishes it as the first real "bad ending". because nothing that you do or happens in the prank masterz ending is any different from anything else that happens in any other run. you summon evil beings from other dimensions as a throwaway gag on how visiting one location raises your stats. you kill other people and damn them to terrible fates. you watch as body horror happens. the only difference is that, in the prank masterz ending, the laugh track doesn't play.

the rest of the game and the writing echoes this philosophy, this careful interplay of tropes that keeps everything tongue in cheek and yet sincere enough to make sure emotional beats still land when they're needed. the characters feel true to themselves and their own emotions, even when the world is extreme and excessive, when everything else runs on comedy logic.

this is also what i noticed failing first as time went on.

like i said, fanon has always existed and there's always been very specific ideas as to what characters are like in the same way fanon always flattens down characters into the same tropes over and over. scott is stupid and innocent and doesn't know what sex is. damien is violent and hot and too cool for anyone else. miranda is the idiot girl character. repeat over and over and over until you get sick of it.

but it's been an issue as time has crept on that canon has started to approach fanon and began to merge with it. now, scott is so innocent that he can't even curse. polly starts being mean to her friends and saying things that would be very hurtful to hear. the merkingdom isn't really super evil and fucked up, it's just miranda that's like that. they become simpler, easier to digest, streamlined for social media posts and mass-sharing. they become less and less subversions of existing tropes and moreso just another example of them, something else to add to the collection, not their own individual stories.

even further from this, what more complex traits they had are now stated and not shown. polly is stated to be smart and clever in a way that her party girl persona doesn't imply and to be sincerely rather down to earth with the people she cares about, but we seldom ever see this anymore unless its the game specifically trying to make a point about it, in which case it won't let her do anything that implies cleverness and moreso will just outline it in the narration. vera is stated to care for people in a very genuine and heartfelt way, but seldom will get a chance to do so, and every opportunity for her to do so to their faces is missed while she will just outright state it later. it does not feel consistent, it does not feel like any of these are intended reads of their actions. it feels like the devs have something they want to do but no idea on how to actually do so. and forget it if you want these traits to manifest in small ways that show up in unrelated moments and scenes.

the dialogue becomes harder and harder to tell between each speaker, if you are just looking at what's said and not at the pictures attached to it. the characters' distinct voices have been eroded away, so that they speak more and more like each other, relaying the same terms and ideas in the same words. perspective becomes a suggestion, instead of a must.

this is something that started back in monster camp too, as all of the endings in that game felt ultimately the same as every other ending. it's very hard to place or define the full reason why, why there feels like there's no emotional stakes nor investment, why everything feels moreso like selecting different coats of paint and trying to find all the different ending pictures rather than being interested in exploring the characters as characters.

stranger yet, the series that started with the tagline of "be your worst self" has experienced a kind of... softening, for lack of a better word? what i mentioned about being able to handle the balance between terrible people who do terrible things and the light tone of the game starts to change, as abruptly the same characters who were down with violent murder in the first game start to lose their nerve, acting more and more on more typical morality. it's one of those things that feels like it's starting to damage the tone, as abruptly it's not as absurd as it used to be, demands less suspension of disbelief which could buffer and support the rest of the setting on it. there's even a part in one of the endings in montrip which involves current-polly and current-scott looking back on their monprom selves and reacting in horror at how violent and careless their pranks are, in a way that fundamentally felt like it was undercutting and disparaging all the things that felt fun and made monprom what it was.

which is odd, really, because more and more i feel like the characters in these games like each other less and less. the friendships and genuine enjoyment of each others company that brought me to this game in the first place has gone. now they don't mention each other as much, don't care for each other's feelings and reactions as much, aren't as willing to support each other. they are more and more found on their own, relied on their own, seem to seek out contact and interaction with their own friends less and less. it feels like they're all separating out into their own worlds, but also feels like they wouldn't willingly want to interact with each other if they weren't already forced together by some other outside contrivance.

if anything, i'd compare it to every other dating sim out there, where you, the player, are the most important person in these characters' lives, and they only feel ambivalent or antagonistic towards every other character. which, again, is not why i picked up monster prom or why i liked it so much in the first place.

and it's because of this that it feels like the current state of the series has to focus on its increasingly weak worldbuilding and lore, trying to form a more serious foundation without character relationships being so tightly bound together, without the characters themselves being more developed and rich, without an aspect of absurd humor to rely on.

more and more i've noticed monprom has to rely on referencing other series to make itself funny and create humor, which, again, it's always done. it was just easier to ignore back then, if you didn't know what was being referenced, because there was always more going on in the exact same scene to bolster it and give context clues as to the setup and punchline at play. it feels like the current games are much more dependent on you knowing pop culture references in order to have any fun with it, and i'm someone who, again, is very picky in what i like or what i'll seek out. i'm not interested in a stream of references about other things that i would much rather be doing than playing through a game that feels like it hates that i like it at all, when i could, again, just be engaging with the thing that takes itself seriously and knows what it wants.