#This is a long ass post but like look upon my metaphors boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lettrespromises · 4 years

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PLAN À TROIS.— TODOROKI, BAKUGOU.

A.N:

❝ dear reader,

why hello it is i, nikki, back at it again. this post was specifically written thanks to @sasukelore’s big brain, meaning that this one is for the boys with the booming system, top down, AC with the cooler system😔✊🏻. it’s my first attempt at writing smut (which means it’s a direct ticket to hell) so please bare with me, i hope you’ll like it! if you have any feedback, please feel free to send it to me! also, my requests are open for business hehe.

sincerely yours,

nikki.

P.S: “plan à trois” has a double meaning— it means “threesome” in french but it also literally means “a plan involving three people” which is the core of the story, both literally and figuratively. ❞

Genre: Smut. (All three of the characters have been aged up.)

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drugs (but no actual use of drugs), unprotected sex (please use a condom), nudity, spanking, choking, cunnilingus, blow-job, temperature play, threesome, dirty things.

Word count: 6.5k (she’s a big girl, don’t be shy.)

Letter object: One hotel. One gala. One mission. One person to take down. Three heroes. You and Shoto have to play the perfect fake couple to gain your enemy’s trust, the only thing is, Shoto has no clue how to behave as a couple. The unexpected help comes from Ground Zero who seems a bit too impatient and eager to show Shoto how to really treat a lady.

Metaphorically speaking, the heroes are seen as the predators and the villains as the preys, it’s always been that way— an eternal game of hide and seek, which only ends in binary results, either victory or loss. The latest news concerning the hero world had put this little game to a halt: the hushed rise of the anti-quirks drugs were concerning. The enemy was everywhere and nowhere, it was all whispers, a thread of ‘who said what’, mere illusions replaced authentic clues. The rules of the game had been changed into a paradox where the villains became the predators and the heroes were deemed as the preys.

The rule of silence, which could have easily been personified as the ringleader of this dystopic scenario, was cruel— anyone could be suspected of being a link of the drug chain. But fret not, if you were suspected and voices started to echo around louder and louder, a little bit of hush money was the price to pay to reinstate the rule of silence. Anyone could be a culprit, even (or mostly) into the highest spheres of society. Those who are worshipped in an agnostic way, they were on top of the social food chain and, perhaps even, on top of the drug chain. These elites have been very vocal about their will to suppress the almighty authority pro-heroes possess— feeling threatened for their own sake and their own inferiority complex, they were willing to play dirty to be able to rule the country with an iron fist.

The corrupted elites still remained as elites and enjoyed their mondane occupations— galas being one of them. It was a dream opportunity for you as a pro-hero, a room crowded with highly potential culprits served on a silver plate with a cup of champagne to serve as the cherry on the cake.

Stealth missions were highly dangerous if you didn’t have a cover good enough, and treading on the playground of influential people could possibly cost you your career as a pro-hero, but if you managed to succeed, you were bound to bask in glory. Keeping a realistic cover is the number one check on the list entitled “how not to blow up your whole mission and be hated by the rest of the country.” Luckily enough, your agence had already done all the dirty work for you and sent you everything you needed— a flawlessly cut evening attire, a shockingly well-done fake ID and a full file regarding the background of your character, all down to the tiniest details. And I cannot emphasize enough “all” the details...

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Amongst the myriad of details (and some of them were completely unnecessary, I mean, was your favorite fruit really important?), one of them was impossible to ignore. “Shoto Todoroki, really?” His name rolled off your tongue for a reason, you were supposed to play his pseudo fiancée for the night. Your thumb brushed the surface inked with his name, unconsciously wishing that if you were brushing hard enough, his name would disappear and so would your almost wilted high school crush on him.

Your silent complains were cut short, the sound of someone knocking on your door stirred you from the invasion of your thoughts. Then the knocking sound echoed once more. “Just a second!” Has anyone heard of the concept of patience? Waiting a few seconds for someone to open the door isn’t a inhuman task. Eventually (although it could’ve have been funny to let this mysterious person fume because you purposefully took too long), you opened the door to your hotel room and it just felt like you had welcomed a storm in. Much to your surprise, there were two surprise guests, two U.A alumnis just like you— Shoto and Ground Zero.

“Well, shit, were you planning on letting us fucking die in the hallways, woman?! What the fuck took you so goddamn long, ha?” When I mentioned a storm earlier on today, I meant Bakugou Katuski— his annoyance was transcripted upon his face through the frowning of his eyebrows and the wrinkle sitting between them. “It’s good to see you too Bakugou, glad to see you missed me after all this time.” His hands were shoved in his pockets, clearly not keen on listening to your sarcastic remarks nor wearing a tuxedo for the night. “Tch. Keep your smart ass talk to yourself, dumbass.”

You had indeed let a storm invade your hotel room. But unbeknownst to you, you had also welcomed a hypotizing breeze, the polar opposite of Bakugou, and apparently future fiancé for the night: Shoto Todoroki. His facial expression reflected nothing but pure serinity, a signature stoic face which radically clashed with Bakugo’s scowl. Todoroki was so discreet, almost blending his presence with the newfound silence. He was wearing an evening suit of his own, aquamarine was his color after all, it was a known fact since your high school years.

“Y/N, as you may be aware, I am here for the stealth mission. Bakugou is going to accompany us just in case something goes wrong. It was a last minute change, but considering the household names who are going to attend this gala, too much precaution is better than not enough.” Ohh, so that was the reason why the angry gremlin was here. Although, you wondered how Shoto felt about the two of you acting as a fake engaged couple, was he still serene about that? “Yeah, while you two fake lovebirds will be busy eating each other’s faces off, I’m gonna be around to check if there is any intell on these anti-quirk selling bastards.” Each of his word was accompanied by a hand gesture pivoting between you and Shoto and, of course, the same old look of annoyance plastered upon his face. You and Shoto, on the other one hand, appeared a bit surprised at the use of “fake lovebirds”, it just hasn’t sunk in yet... Denial, perhaps?

“Speaking of kissing and shit— you, half and half bastard, do you still have a fucking stick up your ass or do you know how to act in a relationship?!” His interrogation was accompanied with a daring glance thrown in Todoroki’s direction and an eyebrow lifted just to emphasize the characteristic of his question a bit more. A bold question which immediately found its answer from the mouth of Todoroki, needless to say, you felt this remark coming. “Bakugou, you’re the last person here who could pretend having the knowledge necessary to provide relationship advices.” You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape at Todoroki’s remark highlighted by its bluntness, although you quickly changed your mind once you felt Bakugou’s stare landing on you with such rage causing you to hush your laugh by biting your thumb.

“Ha?! What the fuck did you just say, half and half bastard? Use that fucking mouth for yours for good measure and let’s see if you can kiss Y/N correctly. I won’t let this mission be blown up by your stupid ass.” This time, there was a hint of amusement in Bakugou’s voice, it was hard to distinct if he asked that because he truly cared about the mission or if he just wanted to push Todoroki out of his comfort zone. But the ghost of a smirk drawn upon his face seemed to support the second hypothesis.

“Guys, just a second here. I understand why we have to take care of our cover but it’s not like Todoroki and I are going to kiss all night long.” Your gaze alterned between Todoroki and Bakugou, it became impossible to hold your gaze on a fix structure due to how flustered you felt, and soon enough, your cheeks were quick to adopt a rosy tone. “Y/N, are you scared of kissing me by any chance?” You secretly hated the obvious tone of concern in Todoroki’s voice, he was willing to do anything to make this mission a success but also make sure you were comfortable around him. “N-No! It’s just… I don’t mind it.” What a miracle, you finally managed to look at him in the eyes but the blush on your cheeks was as lively as ever. “Then damn, if you don’t mind it just fucking kiss already we don’t have all night, dumbass.” You could tell by Bakugou’s body language that he was growing more and more impatient by the second, his arms were crossed over his chest— he was getting pissed.

Todoroki captured your attention once more when his index brushed the surface of your skin right below your chin while his thumb was carefully set upon your jawline. His orbs shone by their gleam of reassureance, his eyes met yours, as a silent way to ask your for permission and you fluttered your lids shut as an answer. As if it was some kind of second nature to him, his other arm compassed your waist in order to bring you close to him. His lips finally touched yours. Each one of his actions was so soft, you could barely feel them yet, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips were melting ever so perfectly with yours, as if your lips were the sole one which could fit is, you couldn’t help but to hum as the carefulness of his lips overwhelmed you. The kiss was shy, experimental, and yet so agonizing. He was temptingly and agonizingly slow, which only made you crave for more. However, given the lack of oxygen, you had no choice but to (relanctutly) break the kiss. You opened your eyes and basked in Todoroki’s beauty, still in awe at what just happ—… “Oi! Have you ever kissed anyone before, Icyhot? Fucking hell, what was that?!”

Of course this was bound to be expected— the angry gremlin in his natural behavior. You and Todoroki exchanged a look which held a thousand questions before you felt your wrist being caught by a much warmer palm, and eventually, you were yanked straight into Bakugou’s chest (not that you were complaining.) “Open your damn eyes and look, this how you fucking kiss a woman, dipshit.” The sound of his voice roaring against your eardrum made you flinch in the nicest way possible. Bakugou naturally made himself at ease all while maintaining his gaze upon Todoroki who was looking at him in return with a noticeable disdain in his eyes.

Bakugou was challenging him in a way, he perfectly knew that Todoroki was observing his every move, hence why he took the liberty to let his palm roam over the curve of your derrière as a way to taunt him. However, the taunt didn’t last too long not to make you feel uncomfortable. He quickly settled one of his hand on the small of your back (to maintain you as close to him as humanly possible) whilst his other hand was set upon your neck. He didn’t waste any more time and went straight to business.

Bakugou’s kiss was, as expected, a vivid contrast compared to Todoroki’s kiss. While Todoroki’s felt hesitant, caring, sweet… Bakugou’s kiss was rough around the edges and his sole purpose was to make your knees weak. Once he crashed his lips upon yours, he immediately swiped his tongue over the surface of your bottom lip, demanding immediate access to your mouth. You knew better than to upset Bakugou so you pleased and allowed his tongue to explore your mouth— your tongue was at his mercy for a few instants before finding a steady rhythm for you two. His presence was overwhelming— his smell, how close you were to him with nowhere to escape, his mouth, his tongue, everything caused you to rightfully let a moan escape into the kiss. At the sound of it, Todoroki’s eyes widened while Bakugou smirked into the kiss, he knew he made a point. You, in return, started to tug at his blonde hair— the rough atmosphere of the kiss affected your actions as well. Just prior to breaking the kiss, Bakugou’s teeth dug into your bottom lip and applied a few pressures while you were looking at him with pleading eyes to continue. Once he got what we wanted, he ended the kiss with a surprisingly soft peck upon your lips.

With his hand still settled on the small of your back, Bakugou turned to Todoroki’s direction and offered him his biggest smirk to show his secret victory. You were left breathless by the kiss, a series of uneven hot breaths crashed down onto Bakugou’s skin.

If anyone were to walk in your hotel room, they would be able to feel and even touch the graduating tension in the air which almost felt agonizing. The tension was mostly radiating off of the two men, a silent battle for dominance had been declared through glances, holders of pure will to outbest the other.

Todoroki observed the scene on his chair, and unbeknownst to him, Bakugou had indirectly offered him the best seat in the room to watch the manifestation of his talents. An almost inaudible sigh left Todoroki’s lips which translated into a sign of discontentment. “Y/N, come here.” The tone was strict, cold even, and you felt obligated to do as told.

Detaching yourself from Bakugou’s embrace (you could tell he didn’t want to let you go judging from how his palm lingered on your back), you stepped away and made your way to Todoroki, a quizzical look noticeable in the reflect of your eyes. “What now?” You asked. Todoroki gestured to his lap and you knew what it meant, it was a speech without any word necessary.

Paradoxically enough, Bakugou stared at the scenery in front of him in pure silence, and although it was very unlike him, he was mimicking Todoroki’s actions earlier on- he wanted to witness how Shoto was going to respond to his own deeds.

You placed your hands over Todoroki’s shoulders to gain stability before sitting on his lap, it was a foreign feeling, but goodness, it was already addicting as hell and you were not interested in finding a cure. Both of Shoto’s hands crawled on the same spot where Bakugou’s hands used to linger just a few moments ago, you understood rather quickly that he was using his own methods against him. You were the center of Todoroki’s attention, his gaze graced your frame and he was loving the sound of your uneven breath, he wondered if he could make your respiration even more irregular.

He paid no mind to mind to the silent Bakugou who was already fuming in his corner as Shoto delivered a succession of pecks on the delicate flesh of your neck, and you tilted your head just enough to let him play on a wider surface. He traded the pecks for a few daring bites on certain areas, he needed to find your weak spot. “A-Ah... Shoto!” the sound of his name rolling off your tongue coated in such bliss was enough for him to curve his lips into a smirk.

It was a brief moment of peace before he dug his teeth on the same spot and you failed to prevent any whimpers from coming out by biting your lower lip. He knew you were restricting yourself, prisoning these beautiful sounds of ecstasy, and he didn’t like any of it. He focused on your lower lip and rubbed the oh so soft surface with the pad of his thumb to prevent your from biting it, and thus, keeping your sounds of pleasure to yourself.

“Don’t be shy, love. I’m pretty sure both Bakugou and I can agree on the fact that the little sounds you’re making are too divine to be hushed. Will you be a good girl and let us hear the sounds you’re making?” It was as if his voice was coated with honey, just his voice alone was enough to make you feel weak, and if you paid enough attention, you were pretty sure he purposefully blew a fit of cold air onto the skin of your neck. “Yes, please... I’ll be good, so good.” From that moment you knew you were at his mercy and he enjoyed every second of it. “You’re such a good girl for us.”

And so he continued, but it was rougher this time, a harsh contrast compared to his hesitant kiss from just a few moments ago. His teeth dug into the flesh of your skin harder this time, the sole purpose of leaving a mark on your crimson colored flesh was haunting his mind. To accomplish said purpose, Todoroki alternated between biting motions and a few swipes of his tongue on the newly bruised skin. The whimpers coming out of your mouth shamelessly only added fuel to his fire. He knew what he was doing, and you knew just how sensitive this particular area could get.

Once he judged it was enough, he delivered a few pecks on the love bites, a way to kiss his art into your skin. “You’re so perfect, love, so perfect with my name written over your skin.” He whispered between kisses. Your head was thrown back, fingers grasping at the roots of his hair, your mouth agape- your whole body language testified of the addictive effect he had on you.

Such bliss couldn’t last for long, and quickly enough, another voice was being heard, a roar even. “Oi, oi, oi! Don’t even think for a single fucking second that you can have her all to yourself, half and half bastard.” It was almost a miracle that Bakugou had observed you in silence, but as expected, patience was nowhere near his forte. He had already crossed his limit long before you sat on Todoroki’s laps. Bakugou’s eyes were strictly focused on your frame, he was completely under your spell after observing how your chest would rise and fall unevenly to grasp any ounce of oxygen.

Your knees felt weak already, you could only stare at Bakugou and silently ask him to continue, to make you feel even weaker, to make you experience pure bliss. You wanted to say his name, it was right on the tip of your tongue, but as you observed his figure reducing more and more the space between the two of you, you just admired him in silence.

“Hah? What’re you looking at, brat? You want more? Is that it? You want fucking more? Say no more.” You should’ve known that the wicked smirk plastered upon his face was a pre-indicator of what was bound to happen. He lifted you off of Todoroki’s lap, the latter frowned a bit at the lack of your presence on him, and carried you to the bed before dropping you on the mattress. Todoroki was quick to follow from behind and stood right next to Bakugou, his hands already busy taking off his jacket and unbuttoning the first button of his evening shirt. “I’m sure that Bakugou and I can find a little agreement. After all, we can share, correct?” Todoroki’s rhetorical question found its answer once Bakugou let a discreet chuckle escape from his mouth after throwing his jacket God knows where and messily undoing his tie. “We’re gonna take real fucking good take care of you, baby girl.”

You were refraining yourself from already touching you, it took all the strength in the world not to give in to the most passionate temptations. But deep down, you already knew you were bound to be overwhelmed by pure bliss judging by how they were looking at you. You could only hum in response, unsure of how your voice would have sounded under the heavy influence of desire.

Bakugou made the first move, after all, his poor soul felt left alone when Todoroki overwhelmed you with pecks and bites. He crawled over you, his knees were on each side of your waist, his hands however, assured total domination- his right hand clutched your wrists now pinned above your hand while his left palm settled by force on your throat, needless to say, the pressure was already applied on your windpipe. “You wanna’ play that game with me, hah?! Let Icyhot have all of you to himself and I got fucking nothing in return? Babygirl, I don’t watch, I fucking play.” It was too ferocious to be qualified as a whisper, and yet, when Bakugou pronounced the last bits of his sentence right in the shell of your ear, you felt like you were floating in pure bliss. “Answer me.” His grip on your throat felt a bit tighter. “P-Please... Ju-Just do whatever you want... With my body.” The lack of oxygen felt agonizing, you were deprived of fresh air and you were laying on the bed while Bakugou exuded pure confidence and domination, an aura so thick, you wished you could’ve touched it. “That’s my babygirl.”

As Bakugou’s lips crashed onto yours, forcing its tongue into your mouth while maintaining the right amount of pressure on your throat to offer you a panorama of new sensations, Todoroki had already gotten rid of his shirt. If you paid close attention, you could see shy flames on his shoulders, he was absolutely adoring the scenery unfolding before him. Everything about you filled his senses, the sight of you giving in to Bakugou was nothing short of divine, the whimpers leaving your mouth in cascade whether the reason was the lack of air or the fierceness of Bakugou’s intentions was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Everything was perfect.

You felt the oxygen become one with your body again once Bakugou broke the kiss and allowed his hand to travel from your neck down to your chest, but his eyes were never leaving yours. He wanted to watch you come undone under his touch, he swore it to himself.

“I’ll take the bottom half. Icyhot, I don’t give a damn about what you do, just don’t fucking interrupt me.” His eyes were already set on the prize, your heat in all its glory. Shoto said nothing in response, you were the holder of all his undivided attention. As Bakugou took a firm grasp of your thighs, opening the way to his newfound purpose, Todoroki took over the top half of your body- he started by planting a succession of pecks from your lips down to your collarbone, passing by your neck, and each kiss was amplified by the cold air he was blowing on the surface of your skin. The contrast in temperature cause you to allow a few whimpers to escape, you already knew you craved for more, it was a way of manifesting it.

“You won’t need that, will you, love?” He said while pointing at your shirt, as his index was already hooking the fabric. It was a rhetorical question of course, you simply answered by humming. Your silent response was the only thing necessary for Shoto to send your shirt flying somewhere in the room. He continued his trail of kisses down to the valley of your breasts, the same cold air following him as he went.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, had already gotten rid off your skirt, but not before letting his palms explore the generous cheeks hidden underneath it, and eventually, leaving a slap right on this area which caused you to yelp in surprise. The pad of his thumb was already brushing against the surface of the fabric, oh what a pleasure it was when he felt the sensation of humidity coming through your underwear. A sensation so good, so addicting, so divine that it brought a sly grin to his face. “Already so wet for us, babygirl? You’re not wasting your damn time, hah?” Your skin was burning under his touch, you could already feel the chills running down your spine and he hadn’t even taken off your underwear yet.

Todoroki took the strap of your bra between his thumb and index, and much to your suprise, he used the right amount of his quirk to burn the fabric and applied the same treatment to the other strap. Before you could even protest about the poor outcome of your bra, he planted his lips on your own to keep you quiet. Now, he focused his attention to your breasts and the bits of clothing left which prevented the upper half of your body from being fully exposed. He took the opportunity given by Bakugou who had gotten rid of your underwear which made you arch your back to unclip your bra. There was nothing stopping him now. He let his gaze fell on you, so full of adoration, while he leaned down and caught the last piece of fabric remaining of your bra between his teeth. His eyes held so much envy, so much desires which reciprocated in the reflect of your own orbs.

Shoto threw your bra out of his mouth, and there you were- your body bare in all its glory. “Fuck, you’re so perfect...” He whispered right against your chest, causing you to let out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. He used his mother’s inherited side to trace the contour of your breasts, he knew he was going to earn a moan in return and he was so please to hear such a sinful melody at the clash of his cold fingers against your burning skin. His thumb and his index worked in harmony to twist the bud of your nipple and overwhelm it by Shoto’s cold touch while his tongue delivering hot saliva on your skin was already doing wonders on your other breast, a perfect balance between cold and hot which made your arousal erupt even more and someone was quick to notice...

“Oi, doll face, focus on me, not on this goddamn fucker. Don’t you feel so fucking good when I touch you like that, hah?” His burning jealousy amplified the voracity of his deeds. Every single one of his touch served the purpose of pleasuring you, but also outdo Todoroki’s touches. He needed to be the best at everything, including making you melt under his touch. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the desire to close your eyes and let your body attract all the attention while basking in pure bliss was too strong and yet, Bakugou’s voice roared into your mind, you couldn’t help but lay your eyes on him through half-closed lids.

Once he knew he was the bearer of all your attention, he put his body and mind to work. Both of his hands planted your thighs on each side of his body, you felt too weak to move under his touch and did not dare resist the pressure. You whined in advance because you knew what was coming- and boy, did he look good with his face buried between your thighs.

One long, sharp, vertical lick was all it took to let yet another moan escape your lips once more, and to Bakugou, it was the best reward. The heat of his tongue responded to the heat of your core, it was pure harmony. He licked the your core over and over again, tasting you, loving you, worshipping you even. One time he left lingering kisses to the side of your core, another time he was left licking motions all over your folds because your taste was the best thing he had ever felt. His motions echoed to your whines and moans, he was sure of hearing a sinful melody each time his tongue entered in contact with your skin.

“Keep making these noises for me, don’t be fucking shy.” His hot breath on the center of your heat embraced perfectly the succession of his actions, “Y-Yes... P-Please, I want... I need more.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let a low chuckle leave his lips, in response to your needy attitude, he left a harsh slap on the surface of your butt, to which you whined loudly in response. “Such a fucking filthy mouth you have there, hah?” He smiled to himself, knowing perfectly that what he was about to do was bound to leave you as a whimpering mess. Without any warning, he slid two of his fingers inside your core, and fuck, you were tight. His thumb was brushing against your sweet bundle of nerves which had already been cherished by Bakugou’s tongue earlier.

You clutched the sheets of the bed to release some of the buildup pressure inside, it was as if a tornado, a volcano and a firework were exploding at the same time in your stomach, each of them resulting in a series of whimpers and moans at the overstimulation. Your lids were shut close already, yet, they kept fluttering over the invisible crimson touches left by both Todoroki and Bakugou.

Speaking over Todoroki, he was tasting you in such a different way as he started to get the grip of Bakugou’s mechanic. His mind kept roaming and roaming, he knew that just one mark on your neck was not quite enough and he needed to beat Bakugou at his own game- he positioned himself right over your right breast and blew a fit of fresh air, causing him to smile at himself for being the reason of such a reaction, and dug his teeth into your flesh. Motivated by the the way you kept tugging at his hair, he kept biting the same area over and over again until sucking your flesh just enough to create yet another love bite over your breast, such an intimate area, isn’t it? And now his whole name was written on it.

“B-Bakugou... I can’t take it... Ahh! Anymore, please, please...” His fingers weren’t enough anymore, you were pleading his name, begging him to become one with you because you were unsure as to how you were going to keep the unleashed pressure within you ruin you. “So eager for my fucking cock, aren’t you?! You’re gonna count with me each inch entering your fucking cunt, got it?” You were willing to do anything at this point- Todoroki’s bites and his cold touch, Bakugou’s fingers and tongue, it made you fill dizzy but you knew, deep down, you were slowly approaching a pure state of bliss. “Yes... Yes I will.”

For his own purpose, Bakugou took his fingers off your core and flipped you on your stomach so you could be on all fours. You were giving him the view of worthy of a masterpiece: the crimson colored marks on your butt cheeks, the vivid rosy tone of your dripping core, oh he wanted all of you. “Love, don’t you forget that I’m here too, right? Open your pretty mouth for me.” You did as Todoroki preached, opening your mouth for him to stick his index in there. “Suck.” he commanded, to which you obliged by creating hollows in your cheeks and embrace his finger around your tongue, this feeling was beyond perfect, beyond the wildest fantasies his imagination had to offer. He could only let his subconsciousness roam about how his cock would feel around your perfectly pouted lips.

Bakugou’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers turning white in the process while your flesh adopted a reddish tone in response. With the use of the pad of his thumb, he spread the pre-cum leaking all over his length, and so it began: the first inch. “One.”, it sounded more like an order than a statement, “...One.” you echoed, your response didn’t come quick enough to Bakugou’s liking, making you earn a harsh slap on your cheeks in return. Then another inch “Two.” , another faint sound coming from your lips “T-Two...”, yet another slap on your abused flesh. And so it went on, the process remained the same- another inch, another whisper escaping your mouth between sobs, another spank.

On the other side of the bed, Todoroki was stroking his own length at the sight before him. You were on the brim of tears, and Bakugou didn’t show any mercy regarding your current state. “I’m sorry, her mouth is going to be full soon, she won’t have room to count out for you.” Bakugou grunted in response to Todoroki’s taunt. His strokes became gradually faster, like a crescendo if you will. His other hand, however, was placed right underneath your jaw to give you some support and your mouth was already open in anticipation for what was bound to happen.

With his hand to keep your jaw steady, you welcomed Todoroki’s lenght into your mouth and he automatically let a groan as the tip of your tongue caressed his sensitive tip. You imagined how rewarding it must have felt for them to hear your own moans and whimpers because hearing Todoroki’s moan felt like a blessing to your eardrums.

Your tongue circled around his cock, your hand was pumping his length, and Todoroki wondered if this is what heaven looked and felt like. Your whimpers were hushed by the presence of his member in your mouth, but somehow, even these half silenced sounds of pleasure sounded even better to his ears. He felt his lids shut close under the miracle work of your tongue while his hand lingered in your hair to motivate you to keep going.

Bakugou, frustrated by this change of plans due to Todoroki’s own personal pleasure, slid the entirety of his phallus into you abruptly. The shock caused you to remove Shoto’s member from your mouth momentarily to catch your breath and release yet another whine before pleasuring Todoroki again. That came as a surprise to no one, not even Shoto himself, but Bakugou’s pace was rough and almost animalistic.

The sound of his testicles clapping against your flesh testified of the pace and yet, it felt so enticing. Bakugou was not so vocal, but he did leave his fair share of grunts as he buried himself into you more and more until reaching your cervix. It was too much, your core was burning, hell your whole body was on fire. The tears that threatened to fall had put their threat to execution, you knew you were close, the overstimulation was getting the best of you leaving you in a whimpering, trembling mess.

You continued to stroke Shoto’s length with your tongue, but his need to take control took over him. The same hand that rested in your hair suddenly took a firm grasp of your hair and he thrusted himself into your mouth and from there, his grunts became more repetitive. Truthfully, it was the only push he needed to bring him over the edge, the previous work of your tongue had put him under a spell. A spell he never wanted to wake up from. He knew what was coming, you felt it too but how the tip of his phallus was tickling your throat deeper and deeper.

Shoto didn’t even notice the small flames making their apparition on the blades of his collarbone, meaning that it was finally time for him to cum. He set your mouth free and hinted his length towards your chest, letting the drips of cum color your skin, and allowed the most magical moan to leave his already parted lips in satisfaction. “Love, look what you fucking did to me. You’re so beautiful, so beautiful with my cum all over you.” Your first instinct was to fill your lungs with oxygen, something so common yet it was cruelly needed. You looked through your lashes at Shoto with pleading eyes while he looked at you with a glimpse of adoration in his. His digit was carefully wiping the excess of cum leaking down your chin to place it right into your mouth. He could only stare in awe at the sight of you tasting him. He felt so full, and fulfilled. He was finally at peace, soaking in pure bliss.

The grasp Bakugou was holding over your hips became even harsher, which you though was impossible just a few seconds before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grunted, trying to keep his volume at bay by digging his teeth into his lower lip but it was all too much to be contained. He knew his climax was close, so close that he could picture it if he closed his eyes just for a second. Bakugou’s name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer, his name had turned into the only thing you were able to say. “I-...Ah! Inside, inside, fuck, please...”, you felt a wave of pleasure taking over your body, a pleasure so intense, no word could have done it justice. Oh well, that was the sole indication he needed to hear before digging his nails into your sides, causing you to arch your back and bite the sheets, already preventing the cascade of whimpers from echoing in the room. “Fucking hell... Cum with me, now.”

With one last thrust, Bakugou came within you, his face was facing the ceiling as he came undone with you. His cum slid within you and in return, your body thanked him by letting your own juice flow all over his length.

Silence invaded the room. No more grunts, no more moans, no more cries. Pure silence inhabited by the uneven breaths of three protagonists who had just touched heaven by the tip of their fingers. Three victims of passion.

Bakugou pulled out of you, earning a whimper in return at the sudden feeling of vacuity. Your legs were shaking, and you secretly thanked every God for allowing you to stay relatively steady on all fours for this long and be able to endure the bestial-like pace of Bakugou. Needless to say, you were panting, you mouth was agape and you were crying for air. Your body immediately crashed onto the mattress, the soft feeling of the sheets enveloping your skin after reaching heaven made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud.

Bakugou and Todoroki shared a look, a small grin even, before crashing down onto the mattress next to you. You were unable to move, your mind was comparable to a wild blur as a result of your orgasm. A rush of words flew through your air but absolutely none of them was powerful and meaningful enough to qualify how you were feeling. At peace? No, not strong enough. Full? Nope, did not carry enough meaning. It was a unique feeling, worthy of all the praises in the world.

Todoroki draped an arm over your waist and left a trail of kisses upon the flesh of your shoulder, a silent way to thank you for allowing him to experience heaven in a rush. Bakugou, on the other one hand, was facing your back and allowed his index to draw invisible patterns on the skin of your back. Paradoxically enough, the silence carried more words and emotions than an actual speech. Until...

“So... Um, about the mission?”

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artmunstudios · 3 years

Note

What's 2 similarities & 2 differences U have noticed between Ozpin & Oscar?

Aaahh I was wondering if you were going to ask me! I’ve been seeing you around asking this question and the answers have all been interesting! So I’ll take on a response that people aren’t taking on then, yes? This will be a long post, so if anyone is interested in reading past the first analysis just click the ‘read more’!

Their Origins

Ozpin is at the core based off of two characters. One of those characters, Oscar is also connected to. There are obviously more characters and whatnot they reference, but for the sake of simplicity, I will only be addressing their clear initial inspiration. Ozpin is based off of The Wizard of Oz, also known as Professor Oz primarily in the Oz Book Series; but his full name is Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs, which he abbreviated to Ozpin Head. (Thank you @immortal-green-snom for this tidbit!!!) In the book series, after he had left in the air balloon in an attempt to help Dorothy get home, Professor Oz was revealed to have done a lot of slimy and heinous things to keep the throne of the Emerald City, and by extension, the Land of Oz itself. While he does get better in the latter books he reappears in, he was portrayed as being manipulative, a bit pathetic, but extremely intelligent and a master of illusions. I wouldn't be surprised if the writers of RWBY were trying to get that across in Ozpin's traits, but to be quite honest, they kinda failed at making him even a morally grey character, as a lot (not all, he isn't guitless, but again, a lot) of the arguments used in-show, and the FNDM itself, are all about things that were either not in his control, or something that was painted as being his fault/harmful, but was actually the opposite of the situation. The biggest example of this is Raven trying to trick Yang and Weiss into believing Ozpin had forced her and Qrow to become birds/have the ability to do so. In a lot of ways, Ozpin and Professor Oz are actually opposites of one another in terms of personalities, which may have in actuality been the overall intention CRWBY had, but we can only speculate. Professor Oz is extremely selfish, while Ozpin is selfless, even to a point where it actually becomes harmful to others. Professor Oz would have done anything to be in power, while Ozpin has done everything to relinquish himself of a position of power, which I find very interesting. This may be due to him even trying to somehow relinquish the burden the God of Light has placed on Oz as a whole, but is ultimately unable to give up that specific task. Even though, truthfully, he needed to relinquish that particular stronghold all along. Professor Oz is clearly a leader, and despite his negative traits, is actually a very good one. Ozpin...as much as I love him as a character, is not the greatest leader. He is, however, an excellent advisor/second-in-command. Professor Oz is only a mere mortal man pretending to be something more, while Ozpin is something bigger than a mortal man, but is pretending to be nothing but a man. Expanding upon this, they also are desperate to be the opposite of what they are. Professor Oz wants to be what he portrayed himself as, and for Ozpin, it's very much the same situation. There is a lot more I could say, but let's move on to Oscar!

Oscar Pine, like Ozpin, is based off of two characters at the core. Again, it is likely that he represents more than two, but for the sake of simplicity, let's discuss only the two. From the moment I saw Oscar, I knew right away that he was based off of my favorite character from the Oz Book Series...Tip. Tip, short for Tippetarius, was too a farmboy who longed for much more, who knew that there was more out there, despite being notably content in their lifestyle. The only difference was that Tip was a slave to an evil witch, but he escapes her in the second chapter with a companion. He is described as being just like any boy; rugged, mischievous, playful, and a lover of all things fun while still being quite shrewd. Unlike Ozpin and Professor Oz, Tip and Oscar are, in fact, extremely alike. Even down to their colors and appearance. Despite how Tip is colored, he actually has light brown skin (though considering the time period, we all know why this fact was dismissed), and black hair. And his treasured beanie cap was green and orange. His clothes also had a primary color scheme of brown, and were dirty due to the work he had done on the farm. Oscar and Tip have the exact same personalities, which was what affirmed to me that Oscar was meant to be his primary parallel. What got me the most was their sarcasm. Tip is still the most sarcastic and genuinely street-smart protagonists in the Oz Books. Not to say there were no other protags like that, but there was something to be said about how Tip was one of the few protagonists to actually act as a leader in the traveling group. Just like Oscar, Tip is also quite emotional, and they both have a sharp temper that they express not in loud outbursts, but by quips that you know could be quite hurtful if they wanted them to be. However, between the two, Tip is the loudest, should you put them in the same room. However, I suspect that as time goes on, Oscar might start becoming quite vocal when he doesn't like something, as I've noticed that the more he develops, the more he acts like Tip. Their behaviors are similar as well; when something personal is going on between two parties who clearly knew each other before him, both Oscar and Tip have a tendency to hang back and simply let the moment play out. They both start out as being sort of bystanders, just going with the flow while occassionally giving very good advice/strategies, but they start to become more of a leader as time goes on. In fact, leadership seems to be in their blood. There is actually a reason for this.

Ozma of Oz

There is a single thread that connects both Oscar and Ozpin, and that is the second primary character they represent. That character is the infamous Princess/Queen Ozma of Oz. Ozma, in many ways, is a lot like both Ozpin and Oscar; and may be the kind of person they become once the merging is complete. She is shrewd, but gentle. Sarcastic and blunt, but very elegant and fun-loving. They have a particular grace in how they handle their politics, but she admittedly gets into more trouble than rulers of kingdoms should. She is, ultimately, the perfect archetype of a ruler. And had completely reformed The Emerald City to be an environment that is very much like Vale's open-mindedness, with the advanced technology and efficiency of Atlas. Ozma, in the books, was actually revealed to be Tip; or rather, Tip was Ozma. After being transformed into a boy as a baby by a witch under Professor Oz's command, they were whisked away by said witch, and had been working under that witch until they had escaped as a young boy. Many speculate that Ozma was meant to represent the transgender community, and I know many transgenders see Ozma as an icon. Frank Baum was the type of guy that wrote things that were ahead of his time, and seen as very controversial by the few who could actually read the metaphors planned out. It was even implied in the later books that Ozma and Dorothy get married, and there were many illustrations made from the original novel illustrators of Ozma and Dorothy looking like a couple. What's even greater is that despite the change of gender from Tip to Ozma, she still very much contains her boyish traits despite the frills and queenly garb. As stated in one of the last lines in the second Oz Book;

"I hope none of you will care for me less than you did before. I am still the same Tip you know..."

When I realized Oscar was Tip, I knew Ozma was going to be put into the equation. I just,,,, wasn't expecting..... t h a t.

Oscar and Ozpin

Time to actually answer the question I was asked JSDJFDKDFKFK--

Oscar and Ozpin are different in one particular way: Trust. Ozpin trusts nobody. Truthfully, he doesn't even trust himself, I don't think, and that is likely why he didn't have much of a plan these days. He doesn't trust himself to be competent enough to complete the task assigned to him, he doesn't trust humanity to pass, hell, I don't think he even trusts the Gods to be capable of taking care of humanity considering the shit job they did in the past, and how poorly they have handled Ozma and Salem. In simple terms, Ozpin trusts too little. Oscar, on the other hand, trusts...a little too much. There, I said it. And I'm willing to say it again. Oscar trusts too much. Whether or not that will change after the end of V7 and what happened in V8 is left for debate. Oscar seems almost incapable of seeing the downside in some situations, like, for example, confronting a General who has completely gone off the deep end, unarmed and alone. And he trusted a man who needlessly beat the shit out of him for something that nobody, not even Salem, were truly at fault for. And while that trust paid off, unlike how it did in the past, it is a bit of an alarming trait that I genuinely think will simmer down either after all that happened in V8, or it will eventually when that trust truly bites him in the ass.

Another polarization between Oscar and Ozpin: faith. This ties in a little bit with the trust theme, but there is enough to talk about on its own. While Ozpin does believe that humanity is overall good, I think he has lost faith in their capability to work together long enough for there to be any sort of permanent peace. And, admittedly, he isn't wrong to think that. I think you would have to be very foolish if you genuinely think there will ever be a point where humanity will stop fighting amongst themselves; in other words, Ozpin is fully aware that the God of Light's task is genuinely impossible. And honestly? I think the GoL knows it is, too. Oscar has faith as well, but he views the dire circumstance in a different way that may be the key to solve the seemingly unending puzzle of Salem and their task. He gets faith in humanity not through the overall picture, but in the smallest things. Oscar likely believes that it doesn't matter if all of humanity is united, because he too knows that will never happen. But, he is certain that there is a lot more power in the smallest of unions and actions; a racist woman reforming and helping to comfort a faunaus child. A woman who helped a group of people tear down a kingdom realize the fault of their actions, and try to save another kingdom's people. A man who, while being genuinely wise, was so blinded by rage that he could not see past his own nose, change in order to save what little good has sprouted from something so terrible that he helped sow. The little things matter so much more, and unlike Ozpin, he doesn't think that they need to grow any further than that.

So, what makes them similar? Two distinct things. They both are very personal. Even if it is in different forms of expressing, Oscar and Ozpin are quite personal, especially when it comes to their advice. But they also really feel for the person they are talking to. And while Ozpin felt Hazel was too far gone, he felt for him and understood and even agreed with his anger. Their empathy is truly something else; and it is also their weakest point. Not to say that having empathy is bad, but their empathy leads into another trait that they have in common... They let people walk all over them. All. The. Time. To a point where it is actually very frustrating, and it even hinders their development as characters. Ozpin let Ironwood walk all over him, and never spoke in defense for himself. Ozpin let the council walk all over him, and never defended himself. Ozpin allowed for so much of the blame to be placed on his own shoulders, that it is extremely unhealthy, and something I wish the show would address, but have come to accept that it won't. Especially when this trait is reflected in Oscar as well. He blamed himself for failing to convince Ironwood, he allowed for Jaune to verbally and physically attack him, and outright refused to let Jaune apologize. They both brush off their wellbeing so often, that watching Oscar do the same only confirms to me the suspicions I had as to why everyone was genuinely so blind to figure out what was going on in their heads and when they were struggling. Because both Oscar and Ozpin refuse to acknowledge their own struggles and shortcomings.

But, to be frank, that is more of a writing issue than a character reflection, in my personal opinion. And I'll continue to see it that way until the show actively acknowledges that unhealthy behavior.

There ya go! My very very long analysis of Oscar and Ozpin; I hope I brought something unique among the batch of this question!

#rwby ozpin #rwby oscar #rwby ozma #ozma #oscar pine #oscar #ozpin #professor ozpin #rwby #rwby analysis #character analysis #artmun answers

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wondersbeyondcompare · 4 years

Text

More Majid Stuff

I post once in a blue moon b/c I work in random bursts and get tired easily, but here are some rambles about Majid that I’ve saved in my Notes app and probably haven’t mentioned before!

There are some rumors circulating around Majid regarding his wealth

More specifically: how he got his wealth

All these rumors range from him being a secret son of a noble family to taking shady underground jobs that paid ridiculously well

His name had been searched up more than once, but the only thing that pops up is a bakery business w/ a small branch located in the Land of Hot Sands... not too far from where Majid grew up...

Majid’s a quick learner; he just lacks the motivation lol

Tends to overthink too often, tho, coming up with detailed plans to get out of doing the most mundane stuff

Funny to watch but a pain in the ass to comprehend 😔

Although Majid tries to get out of doing most stuff, there are some things he can’t let slide

He can get picky over how some tasks are done; honestly??? this might be a good tactic on getting him to work (“Hey, Majid. Can you help set up the decorations for tonight’s party?” “No.” “Aaaa, okay, guess we’ll just have Mark do it-“ “Mark? You want to leave decorating to him? Do you want the lounge looking like a highlighter projectile vomited over the walls and ceiling? Give me those streamers. I’ll do it myself-“)

Definitely a quality over quantity kind of person; his room may be a mess of different things, but, rest assured, it’s only the best of the best of stuff that stay for long like lava lamps

I want to say that Majid is picky about a lot of things in general, but he does have his exceptions; for example: food, napping locations, job opportunities, ummm (･_･;) That’s most of what I can think of right now, dang

This pickiness is kiiind of 👉👈 referencing a trait that the Cave of Wonders has; like the whole “only a diamond in the rough shall enter here“ business that was going on idk I’m trying my best

As you can see, I went ham when it came to the “Who disturbs my slumber” line the tiger head had lol 😅(sorry that had become your defining trait, m’boi)

And the mass of riches he’s accumulated over the years was another obvious reference to the inside of the cave as well; can also act as a loose metaphor of what’s stopping him from getting the help he needs; as the treasures in the cave were put there w/ the intent of distracting a person from the ultimate goal of the magic lamp, so does his own treasures serve as a temporary distraction from moving forward in his life

But if that’s too much of a stretch, then plz slap the inner English teacher in me and then myself

Majid’s good at looking through people’s facades and judging a person’s true character, but it’s not like he does much w/ this info

Unless they try confronting him or something, he just avoids/shuts down people he gets bad vibes from

Doesn’t make tactless comments; figured out that dealing with pissed off people was more work than it’s worth

Boi tends to ask a lot of questions when speaking to other people; partly b/c of trust issues; partly b/c he might be lowkey judging you (can’t use his unique magic all the time after all :/)

He’s the type of person who acts like he knows everything, but he really doesn’t; just hates getting looked down upon in general; will bluff his way through situations by being as vague as possible

He leans towards how his mother used to speak; that is: beating around the bush

He won’t lie to you, but it might take some time until he’ll give you the whole truth; and when I say it’ll take some time, IT REALLY WILL TAKE SOME TIME B/C THIS BOY IS UNBELIEVABLY STUBBORN

Is casual to whoever he speaks to, no matter the age; if he gets extremely annoyed with someone, especially if they’re older than him, he’ll use this over exaggerated polite tone that makes it real obvious he’s fed up with them

Gets ticked off whenever anyone advises him to do anything, but he’ll still take that advice to heart

Majid’s probably tired all the time b/c of all the jewelry he’s carrying around smh

Majid sounds/looks like he’s angry all the time, but that’s just his resting face 😔; I mean, he’s always a little irritated, but it’s mostly b/c he’s stuck in that state of being forced awake from a deep afternoon nap (b/c... that’s usually what happens to him)

Plus, have you met his upperclassmen? Have you seen what was going on in Scarabia during Chapter 4?????? Have you met the headmaster of this school???????? (; ω ; )

He doesn’t like people touching stuff that’s his; same thing goes for people touching stuff in general that aren’t theirs; doesn’t like thieves (he’s stolen stuff when he was younger, but he justifies that he only did so to survive; and he’s not entirely wrong)

Ironic b/c his mom was a thief 🤭

He’s also a pretty obedient student save for the whole “trying to sleep in class w/o getting caught” thing that he’s still trying to accomplish; doesn’t like it when the professors get strict with him but will grit his teeth and bear with it

Prefers magic carpets to magic broomsticks; there’s just a lot more surface area when it comes to carpets plus he’s more familiar with the former

Spends a lot of his time in the Scarabia storage room b/c it reminds him of his bedroom back home; probably became buddies w/ Kalim’s magic carpet while he was there too

But if we’re talking about the type of people Majid could tolerate befriending uummm... maybe those with good hearts?? Idk, like those who are genuinely trying to be a good person no matter what kind of obstacles they run into (referencing how the cave of wonders only let a diamond in the rough enter)

They don’t have to be all nice or sweet, but as long as Majid can tell they have kind intentions, he won’t immediately leave them

Has a “haaah... these guys are hopeless... might as well keep an eye on them so they don’t screw up any more than they already have” attitude towards these people

Other type of person Majid would unintentionally befriend are those who are also annoyed of being told what to do by upperclassmen/authority figures; ☺️🙏 vent out your frustrations together wooo

Has some squabbles with Leona when it comes to napping locations

It’s actually pretty funny to watch b/c they both don’t want to give up their spot but also they don’t want to bother getting up

Leona wins most of the time, tho

Majid may have had a lot of energy when he was younger but now he’s a g e d

I rarely mention Majid’s lava illusion magic thing, but yeah that’s a thing; he probably won’t be able to use it to its full extent until his last year of high school and maybe a little bit later; it takes up a ton of energy; I keep on imagining him using it and joking that “aaaa the floor is lava lol”, but then I remember the psychological effects this ability has on the victim and 😬 yikes scratch that

Majid has a loud clear voice when he speaks; often startles whoever’s walking by when he naps in the shadows

As a result of spending most of his time w/o a stable support system and no one static to guide his beliefs, Majid doesn’t follow any particular religion; he does have coworkers back at the curio/appraisal/pawn shop who do, tho, and while he doesn’t entirely understand it, he respects them as much as he can

I’ve said before that Majid selfishly keeps all his wealth to himself for fear of losing his self worth, but there are some exceptions (such as to anyone he passes who’s begging in the streets, a coworker who’s struggling to make ends meet, etc.)

He’s fine with giving away some money, but not in huge amounts

And if he’s giving money to anyone, it’s done in a round about way; usually w/ a dismissive excuse

If this boi had a route, depending on how the MC acts around him, the majority of it will be spent breaking down those walls and befriending him; generally going like this: shovel all trust issues into incinerator one by one —>Get him to tolerate you —> Get him to trust you —> Befriend (?) Him —> Deal w/ his other deep seated issues —-> Romance (if we’re going for that otome game kinda thing i guess???))

I can just imagine Majid temporarily visiting the Land of Hot Sands w/ MC after befriending him and finding out the truth about his parents through his boss at the curio shop; MC encourages him to travel north to pay a visit at some facility b/c it’s rumored that at least his father is still alive

(No idea what happened to Lara; probably suffered worse consequences due to making several prison breaks; had decently powerful magical abilities, so that would probably explain the whole forced amnesia thing that happened after their disappearance)

Majid is torn b/w wanting to go alone b/c this is a personal matter (And he wants MC to be safe) and being scared of losing MC if something horrible happens to him on his journey north; he knows what it’s like to be suddenly abandoned, and he doesn’t want that for anybody, especially for someone he cares about

He doesn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes, regardless if it was accidental or not

Majid decides to go on his own; probably had some touching parting w/ MC; maybe we’ll go full otome and have a hugging CG where he swears that he will be back for MC

And MC is just like “Aight;;; cool;;; good luck;;”; something sentimental like that

Couple of days passed; we’re worried about him

He returns with a worried look on his face before breaking into a relieved smile when he sees MC; power walks to hug them even tighter than before

Majid thanks them for all they’ve done; he then spends the rest of the day and well into the night describing all he’s experienced and his visit with his dad

They go back to NRC and Majid is less bratty than before, much to the surprise of Jamil and to the delight of Kalim; actually starts to make an effort to not push people away at every opportunity (b/c he originally felt like they all had their own hidden agenda and were just using him for their own gain, y’know)

Boi becomes even more clingy towards MC; by that, I don’t mean he’s overly attached to them (he’s afraid of making the same mistake he did in the past), but rather he shows it through light casual touches here and there (a brush of the fingers when exchanging papers, patting MC’s head when they do something well, gently tugging at their sleeve when he needs their attention) and constantly checking up on them to see how they’re doing

Awkward levels in Majid increase as he constantly wonders if he’s crossing a line when it comes to him showing any kind of affection; he doesn’t want to come off as creepy and make MC hate him

Might also resist being given love and affection at first; but once he gets used to it, he absolutely m e l t s

Cuddles are 👌; might give teary eyes if MC tries to leave early during a cuddling session, but he won’t pressure them to stay; a touch starved boi

Doesn’t think much of PDA, giving or receiving; full on making out and anything further is kind of a no-go, tho; hugging is nice and so are short and sweet kisses; will glare at anybody who says anything about it

If his s/o was clingier than he is, he might get a little embarrassed; same thing goes if his s/o was really cute

Definitely the type of boyfriend to buy random gifts for his s/o b/c these things reminded him of them

Younger Majid was in full on puppy mode all the time, or at least when he was around people he liked; also a huge people pleaser too, since he was afraid of them leaving him

He was probably reckless too in order to entertain his friends

Was really polite, especially when it came to adults; always calling them Mister and Miss(us)

He was also just loud

Future Majid (if he came to terms with most of his problems) would be more mellow than his teenage self; still anti-social but he’s less angry at the world now; would go on to own the curio shop after the previous owner passed on; reverted it into both a jewelry/appraisal shop in order to honor his father plus respect the previous owner’s memory as well

Sells and repairs jewelry and appraises supposedly rare items that come through his store; still does odd jobs for the people in the neighborhood but his prices aren’t as outrageously high as he made them when he was younger

He names the new store after his mother, at the request of his father (plus I only recently heard the song “House of Gold” by Twenty One Pilots and hnnnmmg it fits well with this golden boy)

Majid is interested in most things related to jewelry, probably subconsciously influenced by his father; this includes repairing bits of jewelry; he moves delicately when it comes to these kinds of tasks

He’s a night owl; it’s much quieter at night

Has bad posture from sleeping in different weird places

His body is prone to heating up easily; the fact that he lives in the Land of Hot Sands and was also sorted into Scarabia is just unfortunate luck

Sneaks off to cooler areas on campus in his free time to chill; one of his favorite spots is the Octavinelle lounge since it’s air conditioned and dark, and he can get away with taking a nap before going over his time limit and getting kicked out

The library is nice too (´∀｀)

Would like to go to Ignihyde too, but he’s put off by the feeling of being underground (gotta have that bit of irony like Jamil being afraid of bugs 👌)

He tolerates Kalim better than Jamil; probably b/c the latter scolds him for slacking off

Actually went to Kalim for tutoring advice once before realizing part of the way that his senior had no idea what he was doing; Jamil has earned his respect when it comes to academics

Kinda jealous of the duo’s stamina; Majid’s usually heaving for air after long marches or if he’s ever chosen as a backup dancer for one of Scarabia’s many parties; he’s the ( ・∇・) least athletic of my OCs...

No, he can’t dance, but he can feign the movements well enough to not get caught

#twisted wonderland oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland ocs #twst oc #twst oc art #art #twisted wonderland oc art #writing #my art #my post #Majid #mun taro speaks #everytime i post about my ocs i see that one twitter post flash inside my mind #the one that goes like #me to my followers: hey im sorry i havent been posting about my ocs that much but #followers: ??? wait??? you have ocs???#I LOVE SLEEPING TOO MUCH IM SORRY #anyway yeah heres my boy #its mostly just character stuff b/c ive gone over most of his background in his profile and his parents post #will i do the same for the other kids i have?? maybe if i get the energy to...#im just biased for majid #if you managed to get through everything on here congrats #you have my love and undying loyalty from now on #also i didnt really know where i was going with all of this #if it seems like im jumping from one idea to another its b/c i was

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kyliwrites · 4 years

Text

the exit's the other way

ship: davekat (no quadrant/all quadrants; established relationship)

prompt: "you know what!? fuck you. i'm out of here."

"*name.*"

"WHAT?!"

"the exit's the other way."

setting: earth c (canon universe/post-canon, no epilogues)

Your name is Dave Strider, and you are just the absolute god damned best at riling loud, insufferable aliens up to the brink of delirious rage. Because the way their gray cheeks flush and their eyes darken is so perfectly entertaining, you take it upon yourself to annoy them into paradox space and back.

Karkat, for example. All it takes is the bare minimum of poking and prodding at his favorite romcom actor and SHABAM. Little guy's all fuming and everything; you can see the puffs of smoke coming out his ears and the attractive way his fangs slide out over his lips. He's glaring in that wide-eyed furious way of his, anger hot enough to brand you right on the asscheek like a motherfucking cow. Moo, bitch.

You hardly insulted him, but Karkat's like that: hypersensitive, petty, an asshole, totally adorable when he's mad. He's got his flaws (who doesn't?), but with you, he doesn't try so hard to cover them up. You love him all the more for that.

Presently, he's ranting about the flaws and inaccuracies of some human film you alchemized into existence for him, and he's been doing so for approximately four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. You haven't been paying much attention, if you're being honest, because you've been too busy mentally recounting everything else about those four minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Why? Narrative reasons, yo.

You tune in at the last second and catch his metaphorical hands instead of the hilariously unironic picking apart of whichever movie you picked for him (you can't even remember at this point; you've spent all three years since the game ended finding progressively shittier films, if only so you can experience the pleasure that is Karkat's ranting).

"-and are you even FUCKING listening, douchenozzle!?" Comes Karkat's infuriated, raspy interjection. It throws you bodily from your thoughts, and you blink from behind your shades in an effort to clear your head.

"Nah," you answer honestly once you've regained your bearing. "Shit got more boring than watching American football with the boys on a rainy Saturday night. Dude goes in for a tackle and skids across the field tragically. Eight jocks in a row go flying and it's like a god damn bowling alley up in this bitch. The boys start swearing like some motherfuckers, but you, a renowned Football Connoisseur, shake your head solemnly rather than go batshit insane over the slip-n-slide conga line like, you know, a normal person. Football people, bro. No humor. No sense of irony."

"I understood approximately FUCKALL OF THAT, asshole. Speak English or Alternian, thanks a whole fucking lot. What gog damn language was that!?" Karkat looks you up and down with a scrunched up expression, as if deciding where to maim you first. You straighten involuntarily underneath his gaze.

"...S'called Texan, m'dude."

He recoils melodramatically. "Texan!? Is that a joke or some bullshit? Some kind of dead language you somehow learned? Where the fuck is the TEXAN and who came up with a name that hideous and disgusting?"

"No, Karks," you wheeze. "Texas. The people from Texas are Texans."

"Why do I care about your overcomplicated alien linguistics!? Answer my question, Strider," he demands, crossing his arms. His nails, bitten down yet still sharp and threatening, dig into his sweater.

"I'm from Texas, dude. You know how there were, like, different dialects on y'all's murderplanet? English is kind of like that. Texans have huge accents and are famous for being racists, people from Jersey are famous for being the shittiest people, Alabamians marry their relatives, etcetera etcetera."

After a moment of thought, Karkat nods seriously and says, "That explains why you're such a xenophobe."

You choke. Of all the things you'd been expecting him to say, it definitely wasn't that. You reply eloquently:

"W-what!?"

"You heard me. You fucking space racist."

"Oh my jesus shit, rude," you protest vehemently. "I am not space racist." Not anymore, at least.

Karkat flashes a rare fanged grin at you, his eyebrows lifted, and you realize he's only joking. The smile is gone as soon as it came, one of those blink-and-you-miss-it gifts. "Space racist." He nudges you with one elbow. You nudge him back.

"Dude," you say, "don't make this a thing."

He pushes you forcefully, hard enough for you to have to grip the arm of the sofa you're sitting atop to remain seated, in response. Oh, it is on.

You tackle him and he lets out a paralyzed squawk when you roll off the couch and into the floor. He lands on his back with an "oof," and you pin him down by the shoulders. He bares his teeth, but the smile breaking out over his face ruins the effect.

"Get off me, asshat, I'll fucking kneecap you," he barks, still grinning like an idiot.

"You won't." You're grinning like an idiot, too, to be fair, except yours is more fond than shit-eating. Dave Strider, maximum sap. Whod've thunk.

He surges forward suddenly, without warning, and uses his legs to flip you onto your back; it knocks all the air out of you, but you manage a cackle and a "fuck you" anyway. He pins your arms above your head and sits on your chest.

"Say fucking uncle, Strider."

"That's not how that game works!" You wheeze. "You don't even know what an uncle is!" He smirks—the sight makes your heart flutter like the cat getting showered in affection meme. The thought distracts you and you briefly ponder making a Karkat version, but you aren't given the reins to think very long because he flicks your nose.

"Ow! Dickhead, that hurt—"

"Dickhead yourself! Your fucking bony ribs are digging into my ass!" He wrinkles his nose and shifts, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit.

"What ass?" You demand in jest, which is the worst thing someone pinned beneath the person they are making fun of could possibly say. He narrows his eyes and you manage a "shit wait no" before he snatches his hands away.

You've lived together for all of three years, four months, and seventeen days. He knows your weaknesses as well as he knows his own, your fears, your discomforts. He knows what you like, love, and hate. He knows when to push and when not to push. He gets you better than anyone, even your own psychoanalytic twin sister (you'll have to blame that one on the fact that she and her wife don't leave their house unless they're going to the alien procreation cave).

So, that's why he decides to tickle you. Because he knows you throw an absolute shitfit when it comes to being tickled.

You hunch your shoulders when his hands descend upon you and try to roll yourself into a tight, impenetrable ball to escape his fingers, but he's fucking relentless. He knows how sensitive you are; it's the perfect revenge.

In between your wheezing laughs, you can barely manage words, but you cough out a "dude," "bro," and "dudebro," then, finally, "Karkat," before he pauses, rasps, "You did this to yourself," and raises his hands threateningly again.

You blurt, "Uncle! I'll say uncle just don't do it please dude I have never done anything wrong ever you know this right? I—"

He leans forward, silencing you. "Take that bullshit you said first back, Strider, or your plea to your human familial figure is null."

"Fine! Fine, I take it back. Listen, bro. You definitely don't not have an ass. Like, in fact, that ass is so ripe I can't believe anyone would ever accuse you of not having one. That's so fucking disrespectful. How dare those blind motherfuckers? I'm waving my fists at them right now. I will singlehandedly smite all Karkat's assphobes, my man. I'll raise my assphobe smiting trident and pulverize all these thotass sons of bitches right here, right now. I'll do it, I will. I'm no coward. I'll protect that magnificent rear with everything I have, dude. Those glorious buns. The assnihilator—"

"Shut the fuck up oh my gog I can't believe I fucking brought this upon myself." Karkat rolls off of you and clutches said glorious buns. Apparently your ribs really did hurt his ass. Huh.

"You did bring it upon yourself," you agree. And then, because you still aren't done pushing his buttons and want to be an insufferable piece of shit, "So, you didn't say what you thought of the movie."

He opens his mouth, clamps it shut hard enough for his teeth to clank together, repeats the motion a couple of times. "I—Dave—You fucking—No. You know what? Fuck you. I'm out of here."

You burst into the horrid laughter of a hyena when he scrambles to his feet in one furious motion; he's back to grumpy scowling and cussing you out in the amount of time it takes for the underpaid McDonald's employee working the back of the store to flip a shitty one hundred percent not-beef burger patty.

He stomps heavily away—in the direction of the kitchen, you note, which only makes you cackle harder when you realize he didn't do it on purpose.

"Oh my fucking jesus god. Karkat!"

"WHAT!?" He yells without facing you.

"The exit's the other way."

He comes to an abrupt halt, slowly turns around, and begins marching back, in the right direction this time.

You're too busy flailing on the couch (you can't even remember pulling yourself back onto it) to give a shit when he throws himself down beside you. You do, however, give tons of shits when he pulls you into a very exasperated smooch that simply screams "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey."

You are not opposed to "shut the FUCK up you absolute godless heathen of a space monkey" smooches.

He draws back and rolls his eyes. "Are you done yet, bulgemuncher?"

You are, as established many times, an insufferable piece of shit, so you say, "Dunno. Do I get to kiss you again?"

"Not with that attitude you don't."

You kiss him anyway, because god dammit he's your boyfriend and you demand kissing rights. He doesn't protest; instead, he wraps his arms around your neck and relaxes, just a little.

You could stay in his arms forever, you think.

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #fluff #no epilogues #homestuck #fic

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xpouii · 4 years

Text

Hello! I’m alive! I’m in the middle of moving house with almost no warning so it’s been a packing party! Definitely a move in the right direction though, so no worries. HOWEVER, I am here to post one of my Secret Santa fics I wrote for Christmas! I hope y’all enjoy!

Tags/Warnings: NSFW Dapperstache (Jameson Jackson/Wilford Warfstache), bondage, light food play (honey), exhibitionism, sign language, background Marvin/Jackie, full NSFW tags below the cut!

NSFW Tags: Spanking, bondage, D/s, shower sex, blocked and (briefly) denied orgasms, handjobs, deepthroating, rimming, Anti mention and brief Chase appearance

“Alright!” Jackie said, clapping his hands. “Popcorn?”

“Check.”

“Cheesy movie?”

“Check!”

“Blankets?”

“If you want one you’d better get your own,” Marvin said with a playful grin.

“Oh is that so?” Jackie jumped over the couch arm, pushing Marvin onto his back and kissing him.

Marvin broke the kiss and laughed, “Fine I’ll share, but hurry up and get off of me. It’s the middle of the day and Warfstache is still around here somewhere.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

Marvin pushed Jackie off, sitting up. “He oozes magic. I would know if he left. He’s unpredictable and I don’t exactly want to be the piece of meat you dangle in front of him. I’m not getting double teamed!”

“I would never,” Jackie said.

“He’s persuasive, and he’s a menace,” Marvin said. “So just behave yourself until he’s gone, and until we’re alone, and when you’re not just trying to seduce me for a blanket.”

Jackie snuggled up to his boyfriend, who started the movie with a flick of his wrist. “Show-off.”

Just beyond the television, on the other side of a thin wall that let in almost every word of the previous conversation, Jameson was wishing for quiet. Not that he himself had any trouble being quiet—he couldn’t make noise, at least not easily. He could bang his hand on something—but his wrists were tied together—he could snap his fingers, but that was a signal he didn’t want to give. The only sound he was making—if he could be blamed for it at all—was the resounding smack of Wilford’s open palm against his naked ass. To be fair, that wasn’t entirely his fault although he was having the time of his life.

He was naked, tied rather unforgivingly at the wrists, the restraints looping beneath a rather extravagant ottoman—one he’d received it from Dark as a welcome gift—to his ankles. He was silenced, in a manner of speaking, not capable of signing in his current state, and also free from the expectations of conventional communication. He could snap his fingers for stop, and if Wilford squeezed his hand, he was to squeeze back if he was alright. Beyond that, Wil didn’t want him being distracted by silly things like ‘talking’. As it was, Jameson was free to bury his face into the decadent fabric of their makeshift spanking bench and moan for all he was worth, even his breath broke upon the magical, metaphorical barrier that kept him soundless.

Wilford, however, wasn’t naked, and the rough feel of his slacks against the striped, sensitive skin of Jameson’s ass made him squirm. He was talkative too, leaning in whenever he took a momentary break to whisper in Jameson’s ear. “You just eat this up don’t you, buttercup? Do you crave the attention? Or do you just want my hand on your pretty little ass?”

Wil landed a particularly hard hit on Jamie’s ass that would have crossed his eyes had he not been squeezing them shut already. Jamie felt relief that he was facing away, able to keep his less flattering expressions and reactions to himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Wilford, but the relationship was fairly new; as far as the hierarchy of egos went, they were a little bit Prince and Pauper—only instead of switching places they had kinky sex in Jameson’s unlocked bedroom. Wilford was waiting patiently behind Jamie, but he usually expected an answer, even to his hypotheticals, and Jamie did his best to lift his bruised ass into Wilford’s hand. The older man chuckled, “That’s exactly what I thought. Aren’t you sweet?” He rubbed one hand along the multitude of marks he’d made, soothing the skin with a gentle touch. “I think it’s time to move on to something else, give this gorgeous behind of yours a little rest.”

Wil’s strong hands were on his hips then, pulling him backwards, and Jameson tensed in surprise, a silent yelp on his lips. He glanced over his shoulder, and Wilford smiled, “No peeking now, turtledove.”

Jamie lowered his face back onto the ottoman, jumping when Wil’s hand wrapped around his cock, giving a firm squeeze. He jerked his hips, trying to fuck into Wil’s fist, but the man moved his hand and grabbed Jamie’s hair, pulling his head back just enough to whisper in his ear, “So impatient. You’ll ruin the fun before it even starts. You don’t want to end this already, do you?”

Jamie shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he struggled to control himself, to be a good boy. Wilford leaned back, and his hand returned to Jamie’s cock, maddeningly still for a few long minutes before he began to stroke slowly. Jamie whimpered and moaned, his mouth opened around lust-mad nothingness as Wil’s calloused hand took him apart slow and discreet. Soon his whole body pulsed in time with Wil’s hand, spreading precum and desperation with each slide of his palm. Jamie’s body was already crying for release, for things just a bit faster, just a bit harder, but Wilford never let things end this quickly. Jamie already knew he was in for an evening of edging and denial, culminating in a mindblowing release—or none at all. Wil could be scattered sometimes, losing sight of his own plans and leaving Jameson to pick up the pieces of his own sex-wrecked body. These incidents were few and far between, however, and usually Wilford’s aftercare was sweet, swift and complete, leaving Jameson in a euphoria so complete he could sleep for days—if only their home was ever quiet enough to sleep for days at a time.

Wilford pushed his hips forward, teasing Jameson with false promises as he jerked him in earnest now, his other hand on the back of Jamie’s neck to hold him in place—not that it was necessary, given the complicated expanse of restraints holding him down. Still, Wil had a dom streak that made Jamie’s fantasies possible, so he would never question the things Wil did. Jameson wished he could whimper, whine, beg, but all he could do was take it, and bite into a mouthful of expensive fabric as he struggled against his impending orgasm. He’d never directly disobeyed Wil before, but it wasn’t that often he got direct orders, either. Wilford wasn’t always keen on sharing what he had going on behind the scenes, and this time was no different.

Wil’s hand was moving too fast, squeezing just right—or wrong—and Jameson lost all control. His hips jerked of their own volition, and Jamie threw his head back, arching his back as his body launched him into orgasm. Suddenly, Wil moved his hand to squeeze the base of Jameson’s cock, hard. Jamie sobbed as the familiar spasming of his cock was interrupted, and the pleasure he felt melted away into frustration, his cock throbbing in protest.

Wil released him once his cock stopped twitching, and a miniscule dribble of cum stained the ottoman beneath Jamie’s body. Wil smiled, untying Jameson and flipping him over without warning or decorum. Jamie’s chest was heaving, and tears were building in his eyes. Wilford leaned in and kissed him, squeezing his hand. Jamie returned it weakly as Wil tied him up on his back this time, his cock already hard again and laying heavily against his stomach.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” Wil purred. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Jameson watched him go, leaving the door cracked enough that an inch of the hallway was visible when Jameson lifted his head. The movie in the livingroom might as well be right beside him, as perfectly as he could hear it, and Wil was gone, even his boisterous voice fading away to nothing. Jameson let his head fall back and his chest heaved as the cool air of the bedroom prickled over his sweaty skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Jamie lay there for nearly an hour, according to the clock, and occasionally he could hear Wilford’s voice lift in a raucous laugh. Jamie and Marvin got into a lively discussion about their movie, and Chase had come in, yelled at by Marvin for tracking mud. Jameson’s heart had tightened when Chase rushed past the cracked door, and the wind of his movement nudged the door just a bit more open. His cock jumped, and he couldn’t help but blush at just how hot the thought of being caught made him, even though he was mortified at the same time. The worst of it came when he heard the buzzing snarl of Anti coming from the kitchen, and he actually started to struggle in earnest against his bonds, worried until he heard Wilford’s footsteps approaching—he’d recognize those jaunty, heavy footfalls anywhere. He calmed and the relief must have been plain, because Wilford chuckled as he pushed the door closed behind him. “Look at you; did you miss me that much?”

Jamie blushed and nodded, glancing to where Wilford held his hand behind his back; he lifted his eyebrows in question. Wilford chuckled, “Oh this?” He pulled his hand out from behind his back, showing the bottle of honey, a little bear-shaped bottle. He shook it playfully, “You don’t mind getting a little sticky, do you?”

Jamie smiled, biting his bottom lip as Wilford set the honey on the bed and started undressing. Each opened button, each slide of fabric lit up Jamie’s brain like a Christmas tree. Wilford was muscular, solid and strong and while Wilford’s ass and legs were on display often enough, he was so seldom shirtless that it was a gift to see his broad chest and thick, rolling biceps unencumbered by clothing. Wilford picked up the bottle and moved back to the ottoman, popping the cap open, “Ready, darling?”

Jamie licked his lips and watched as the honey poured from the bottle, hissing silently when it hit his cock; it wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. He squirmed as the thick liquid spread over his sensitive skin, pooling at his groin. It warmed quickly against him and Wilford’s hot tongue was soon helping things along as he licked the honey away with a deep, indulgent moan. “You know I can’t resist sweets, sugarplum,” he muttered before taking Jameson’s sweet-coated cock into his mouth.

Jamie would have bucked up if Wil’s hands hadn’t gone to his hips, pinning him down. The tight, wet heat on him brought little tears of frustration to his eyes—especially when Wil pulled back to lap up some of the honey dripping down his balls. Jameson’s fingers twitched, wanting so badly to beg for more. Wil pulled back and smiled up at Jamie, his pink lips and pinker mustache sticky and wet; he pulled Jamie downward again, his tongue finding the determined trail of honey that had reached his ass. He licked it away before it reached the ottoman, and was quickly distracted by the taste of his lover; Jamie squeezed his eyes closed as Wilford ate him out, moaning and muttering praise at how Jamie was even sweeter than honey.

His cock was throbbing with every beat of his heart and leaking—though he was already so wet and sticky it wasn’t easy to tell. Wil was tongue-fucking him out of his mind and he was starting to worry he’d cum without permission and be punished. He fought against Wilford’s hold on his hips, wanting to beg, wanting to warn, and though Wil ignored him for another few long, languid licks, he did eventually pull back and look up with a grin.

“Getting antsy?”

Jameson poured every ounce of please into his eyes, and Wilford cooed in response, “Oh honeybee, you’re so sweet. You know all you ever have to do is beg.” He moved up, letting Jamie’s legs rest over his shoulders as he took his cock down his throat, releasing Jamie’s hips to let them move of their own accord.

Jamie didn’t last long—something about permission always made him cum faster, and he tried to be gentle as he thrust up past Wilford’s lips, his mouth falling open in a moan that he felt in his own chest as he came. Wil swallowed a bit before pulling back and pushing Jamie’s cock up so he painted his own stomach and heaving chest. Wil watched lovingly as Jamie’s orgasm wrung him out. When he was down to trembly aftershocks, Wil moved quickly, untying Jamie and squeezing his hand. Jamie squeezed back, then he stiffly signed, That was amazing.

Wilford chuckled and gathered Jamie into his arms, kissing him deeply as he walked to the door. He kicked it open and carried Jamie across the hall into the bathroom, kicking the door half-closed behind them. He stood Jameson in the shower and—after making sure he could stand, he turned on the water which—unlike the mansion’s showers—started off fairly cold. Wilford used his hand to block it from hitting Jamie until it warmed up. “What else can I do for you, sweetness?”

Jamie stared at Wilford for a moment and felt heat rise in his cheeks, Will you stay and fuck me?

A mischievous grin spread over Wil’s face as he made quick work of removing the rest of his clothes.

Back in the livingroom, Marvin glanced up when Chase came down the hall, avoiding his gaze after the chastising he’d gotten from the magician earlier. He pushed the unlatched door of the bathroom open and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Seconds later after a muffled fuck Chase burst back through the door and slammed it behind him, “Lock the fucking door for once!”

Marvin and Jackie exchanged glances and Marvin rolled his eyes, “Told you he’s a menace.”

Ko-fi

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TAGLIST: @holleratyourbouyancy @azayta @sanderssidesnsfw

#no minors #dapperstache #Wilford Warfstache #jameson jackson #nsft

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lightsandlostbells · 5 years

Text

Skam France season 3, episode 3 reaction

Alexia was the MVP of the episode. Daphne needs a restraining order.

Episode 3

Clip 1 - Three men and an obnoxious whiny baby they inexplicably let hang around with them

Lucas at his locker Monday morning. The locker next to him is #24, the words Amor Amor and #instalove are written on it. #24 is also the slot for the choco bars that Eliott got for them in episode 1. Is that going to be Lucas and Eliott’s version of 21? What’s the significance of 24 - maybe 24 hours in a day, a day meaning a full period of both light and darkness? If we want to get Biblical, Luke 24 is the last chapter in the gospel of Luke and describes Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, although I don’t know if they’re going to go heavily into the Biblical/rebirth metaphors in Skam France (they’re going with light and dark). Anyway, any significance will become more obvious later in the season.

The boy squad shows up. Basile starts talking and when I first watched this without subtitles, my notes were “I don’t know what he’s saying but he needs to shut up.”

Watching with subtitles? I was right, Basile can fucking chill. He blows up at Lucas because he missed the party and he could’ve gotten laid. Even Arthur and Yann, who weren’t overly warm with Lucas when they entered, are telling Basile to calm down. Arthur tells Basile it wasn’t the party of the year. Yann, upon hearing the excuse that something’s up with Lucas’ mom, says who cares, the party’s in the past, diffusing the situation. Basile shuts up seemingly because the other two are chill.

I get that people aren’t perfect and that Lucas did something snaky on them, but Basile is so fucking creepy, Jesus. He’s not just peeved, he’s like ... seriously angry that he missed a chance to get laid, and he keeps up his tantrum after Lucas starts mentioning a problem at home, with his mom. Glad to know his priorities are fully aligned with his dick? It gives me the nastiest, skeeviest vibes, like this dude is going to end up frequenting incel forums in a year or two (if not sooner) and after his friends finally get sick of his shit and ditch him he’ll be railing against Lucas and Yann and calling them Chads or whatever.

The one good thing about Basile being terrible is that I think it made Yann and Arthur chill out, like they must have thought, “Holy shit, I need to not be like this guy.” Lucas explaining about his mom seemed to dial down their annoyance because they’re, you know, normal human beings with empathy that extends outside of their penile excursions. When Lucas hands back the weed to Arthur and offers to pay for it later, Arthur says not to worry about it. Man, this season is a lot better than the first two but I kind of hate Skam France for deciding that Basile was going to be the boy squad breakout and not Arthur.

Yann checks in with Lucas after the others leave and asks whether his mom is at the clinic, so I’m assuming that’s something that has happened in the past. I don’t remember hearing about Isak’s mom being in a clinic or psychiatric hospital. I mean, it actually might be a good thing, in that Lucas’ mom is willing and able to seek treatment - or it might be something else that’s concerning, like she’s a danger to herself or unable to take care of herself. I’m sure we’ll learn more about her condition later. Lucas tells Yann he doesn’t want to talk about it and Yann is a total pal and says the important thing is to be there for her. God, can we please get more Yann content? I know it’s coming later, I know Lucas has to go through some serious heartache and isolation first, but I need Yann’s presence like I need a cool drink of water.

Yann must have triggered Lucas’ guilt over not being there for his mom, because Lucas writes a text to her, saying he’s sorry for not answering her previous texts and that he’s been busy, but he’s thinking of her. Nice little moment of cause-and-effect, though I wonder how Lucas’ relationship is going to be with her later on and how he’ll describe it to Eliott. Because he doesn’t seem to be as totally alienated from her as Isak, though it’s still a rocky and distant relationship.

Clip 2 - Alexia loves unicorns

I see the Raptors’ logo on the wall so you know, nice that they still exist.

Lucas sees Chloé and Maria coming and runs away into the common room, lmao. Daphne, Alexia, and Emma are in there, and I have no idea why Daphne hides the broom behind her, like … you’re just sweeping the floor, girl, you ain’t pulling off a jewel heist. Although Lucas does suggest they’re burgling the room, heh. (I love Daphne’s rubber gloves, btw. She is taking this cleanup seriously.)

Lucas lies that he’s here to help them and Daphne is still weird about it, because it’s a secret and she doesn’t even want the girls to mention they’re moving the furniture. Emma “vaguely” says it’s so people can dance here. Lmao, that wasn’t really necessary, Emma, you could just have said they’re moving stuff out of the way to see how the room looks for their redesign or whatever. Lucas figures out that they’re throwing a party here, because he sat in on that last meeting and he’s not an idiot. Daphne complains that she doesn’t want anyone to know but she just blathers more about organizing an event. Errr, are you allowed to just throw a party at the school? Like … at night, on a Friday, with a bunch of teenagers, and no teacher supervision? I assume not. That seems like a huuuuuge fucking recipe for people to get drunk, make a mess, break shit, or in some way trash this room and possibly other parts of the school, and then you’ll never get your common room redone.

Lmao, at Alexia saying it’s OK because it’s Lucas and he’s not a snitch, and he and Emma just share a look like “Oh really?” Heh, that was a good (and subtle) inclusion. Well, it’s true that he is a snitch, it’s just that he’s also a self-serving snitch, and it’s not in his own best interests to rat out this party vs. ratting out Emma’s kissing Raptor Alex.

Alexia points out that Lucas is part of the crew now because he’s always gatecrashing, and Emma says he’s the new Manon, Alexis like, yeah, he even took her spot in the flat! They’re not wrong? He even took over from her as POV character! He just needs some bright red lipstick to complete the Manon transformation.

Daphne is like NO BOYS ALLOWED and I don’t blame her, she’s seen what kind of riffraff Lucas hangs with (starts with a B, ends with a go-fuck-yourself.)

Alex says Romain (her boyfriend who’s French Kasper) would love this ugly-ass table they’re moving and Emma points out she also has weird taste, indicating Alex’s unicorn shoes with little manes and horns. Yo, I don’t have an obsession with unicorns myself, but I applaud her wearing those shoes. Girl, wear whatever your technicolor heart desires.

Daphne is like, are those unicorns because you’re bi orrr … Alex says no, it’s because unicorns are awesome. OK, so she and Eliott are both into animals and attracted to more than one gender, that seems like a solid basis for a friendship. Let the Raccoonicorn brotp rise.

Daphne asks whether Romain knows she is bi, and Alex says no, but sexuality is fluid, anyway. Tbh I do find it strange that Romain does not know, not because she’s obligated to tell him or anything, just because in a long-term relationship (which it is, they hooked up like last June) I’d think you would share details like that? I mean, hasn’t she ever talked about her female exes or crushes or anything with him? Especially because she seems to be quite out and proud, she was openly talking about making out with Clara in S1, she has rainbow patches on her clothes. She also makes bisexuality-related posts on Instagram, like this one. I guess we don’t know much about her relationship with Romain and how serious it is, but is he like ... not paying attention at all, lmao?

Alex mentions the Kinsey scale and Lucas asks what that is, because this conversation about sexuality just so happens to be relevant to his interests. She explains what it is and mentions that many people have done stuff with the same sex. Just look at Emma and Daphne hooking up!

I did laugh that they mentioned that again, although Daphne is like NO NO NO that was one time and Emma initiated it!! Daphne, don’t dash my dreams. Especially now that she’s got creepy Basile after her; Daphne should find a nice girl to love and SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN in every way possible.

Emma describes herself as very fluid when drunk and ahhHHHHHH I groaned, like this is not a judgment call on Emma or anyone who behaves similarly because hey, make out with who you want, but this is not the greatest thing to reinforce, the whole “drunk girls making out” cliche is used to minimize the concept of bisexuality for woman (because that’s what you mean when you say you’re bi, right, you like to get drunk and kiss girls?). I mean, that’s where the complaint about the Eva/Vilde moment in Skam came from. It’s certainly different here because Alexia is actually bisexual in canon as opposed to no canon wlw rep in Skam, but I kinda wish they hadn’t thrown in this line in a scene that’s otherwise positive and educational about bisexuality.

Lucas is like, but it’s cool to be bi, right? Because Alex can kiss as many girls as she wants and date a boy, and everyone thinks she’s straight. Ohhhhh noooooo son. But at least that’s definitely in-universe ignorance that’s immediately refuted by Alex pointing out it doesn’t work like that. Do you choose who you fall in love with? Lucas considers that.

This is a big new scene so let’s go over it.

First of all, massive props to Skam France for having Alex confirm in words on screen that she is bisexual, and for course-correcting from previous seasons. Because personally I had a problem with Alex bi by Word of God but that factor not affecting like … her dialogue or interactions at all even when it would be relevant. For instance, the whole thing about Daphne thinking Manon is a lesbian played out the same way as Vilde thinking Noora is a lesbian, even when there was an out bisexual girl in the same scene, so Alex might not react the same way as girl Chris, or it might influence how Manon or Daphne reacted. Didn’t the girl squad laugh when Daphne brought this up and Daphne was all “your laughter makes this an unsafe environment to come out,” like that’s the kind of situation that should take into account one of the girls is bi, and yet there was nothing different? I think they took some of the viewer feedback in mind and saw that people wanted confirmation of Alex’s sexuality on screen, and that it was important to the fans, so good for them. They also had her say the word “bisexual” and treat it as a legit concept, which is still rare in media, as many canons just dance around it (to the point where I was surprised when Skam’s boy squad discussed bisexuality/pansexuality as a real thing).

Also, excellent to have Alex correct Lucas’ perception of her bisexuality, where basically she can mess around with girls but have a more serious thing with a guy, and no one has to know she’s anything but straight. Very common misconception of bisexuality, unfortunately a very dismissive perspective, and Alexia got to educate the audience. It was a really good thing for the viewers to hear, so again, big props.

I think Lucas made that comment about Alex kissing girls but dating a boy and getting to appear straight primarily because that situation seemed ideal to him. In his mind, Alex probably seems lucky because she can act on her non-heterosexual desires but not deal with the prejudice and judgment that comes with dating your own gender. Perhaps he’s thinking he can apply it to himself, like in a way he’s hoping he can maybe mess around with Eliott in secret but date a girl in public and not deal with any of the societal stigma that comes with gay relationships. I think it’s also possible he’s wondering if that’s how Eliott’s sexuality operates, like hey, maybe Eliott’s bi and he’ll date that girl, but kiss me. When really it’s not that simple.

Additionally, thinking of bisexuality in that distorted, superficial way means Lucas might not have to confront his own sexuality to a degree that makes him uncomfortable. If bisexuality is simple as kissing girls but dating boys - or in Lucas’ case, kissing boys but dating girls - then he can maybe leave it like that, he doesn’t really have to think about it further, what it means to fall in love with a boy. Almost like it would be an easy gratification of needs like eating or sleeping, rather than anything deeper that would shake up his world. Alexia points out it’s not like that. Why would she date some guy if the person she loves is a girl? You don’t choose who affects you emotionally.

Honestly the lead-in to this conversation was pretty clunky, like they obviously wanted to bring up bisexuality (which is great!) but they could’ve done it in a more organic way, much as I appreciated a glimpse of Alex’s unicorn shoes. Like IDK, when they’re talking about keeping the party a secret, Alexia could’ve added, “Well I admit, I told Clara about the party, too” and have Daphne go “You talk to your ex-girlfriend? Doesn’t Romain get jealous?” and Alexia be like “... why would he be?” You know, throw in another little moment where Alex disputes the “bisexual cheater” stereotype or something like that. Not sure if that example’s any better, just that I felt the way Daphne brought up the topic sounded a little As You Know.

I feel like while this conversation might have done a lot of good for the audience, the talk about the Kinsey Scale might have done more harm for Lucas than good, which is certainly not Alex’s fault, and also not a flaw of the narrative, just an observation. Because while I think it’s good to hear that someone doesn’t have to feel boxed in by definitions of sexuality, I don’t think Lucas is sexually fluid for any reason other than societal pressure to like girls. He makes out with them but it doesn’t appear to be something he enjoys, rather it’s something he makes himself do (which is how it was for Isak, if they’re following Isak’s example). It’s way different than if he had some attraction to girls but was struggling with his attraction to guys on top of that. And trying to test out his level of gayness or whatever, when his actions say one thing and his desires say something totally different, is probably going to make it more complicated for him than it needs to be.

Although one thing I want to mention is that Alex does know what Lucas had on his phone at the end of S1. We were shown in S2 that Manon and Emma must have shared it with her and possibly the other girls. So I don’t know if she cares about his sexuality to the extent that say, Manon does, but she is aware that he might be into guys. It’d be nice if she said her piece with that in mind.

Regarding Lucas’ relationship with the girl squad - it’s really sweet and of course nice to see him bonding with them, I just wonder if it isn’t cutting into the sense of isolation and detachment that he’s supposed to be feeling at this point in time. I’ve enjoyed seeing him smile and laugh with the girls as much as anyone, but they did make a point of detachment as a main struggle for his character. I mean, the opening clip of the season was literally called “Disconnected” and showed him distant from everyone. Sorry, Lucas, not that I like to see you have a hard time, but for that reason I kinda don’t want you to be buddy-buddy with the girl squad too quickly and easily. He doesn’t have to be downright frosty but I’d rather see this friendliness as more gradual, otherwise it cuts a little into the overall atmosphere.

I think these girl squad interactions are best used as a counter to the stress with the boy squad, and the differences in social pressure he gets from the squads, and also for some of the educational moments that he could get from Alex as a member of the LGBT community.

Clip 3 - Gay test

Lucas is at home at night, staring up at the ceiling while he’s on his laptop. Considering or psyching himself up for what he’s going to do. He googles gay test. The link he clicks on isn’t so much about personality/stereotypes, as with Isak but actual sexual actions, fantasies, and attraction, in the past, currently, and ideally.

He checks all the “other sex only” options, and like … a) he is lying about some of that since we know he obviously had a crush on Yann and is attracted to Eliott, we know he’s not exclusively daydreaming or hoping for the opposite sex - not to mention he doesn’t seem to really want girls at all b) this quiz is kinda fucked up because past actions don’t actually determine one’s sexuality, like if you’re hooking up with girls because of heteronormative pressure rather than genuine attraction, that’s not an indication you’re bi, that’s an indication you live in a homophobic society. Which everyone does.

I don’t get how he actually got a “bisexual” result, though? It looks like he checked the straightest answers possible, everything was about the opposite sex, so how would you get anything other than the most heterosexual possible score (in this case 7)? Did I miss something in translation?

I do feel bad for him because he was probably looking for some verification that he wasn’t gay, and the quiz told him he wasn’t entirely straight. He searches for “how to make it so no one knows you’re gay.” OUCH. So he knows, just like Isak did, that these results don’t mean a damn thing about whether he’s gay.

Tangent but like when Skam Italia S2 aired, I saw a fair number of comments comparing Isak to his remake counterparts, claiming that Isak was in super denial that he was gay or flat-out wasn’t sure at this point, whereas Lucas knows but doesn’t want to say it (or Martino knew he was gay but was struggling with external homophobia so he couldn’t come out) and not to be insufferable but: Isak knew he was gay. He wasn’t in denial of that any more than Lucas was here, tbh. What he was struggling with was the label “gay” and all the stereotypes and generalizations associated with it, and how that reflected on himself, as well as the social perception of being gay and how people would see him. What happened with Emma was a result of him trying to avoid those associations. But he asks Google how to get turned on by girls if you’re gay, he knows what he is even if he’s not comfortable with all that label entails to him.

He finds a forum where someone details their strategy. This sparked some theorizing because the person posting is “Tuturo” and Arthur’s IG handle is “monvoisintuturo” (which is a My Neighbor Totoro reference - I love that because Isak had a subtle reference to that film in the first season of Skam, with a poster on his wall). Coincidence? Is this a real post on a forum that they found or something they made up for the show? It’s dated 22/08/2017. Of course, they could have found that post, and invented Arthur’s IG around it...

Arthur being gay (or not straight, at least) would be one hell of a twist. Honestly, I doubt that’s what they’re headed toward, because the advice in the post doesn’t really align with what we’ve seen of Arthur’s personality so far. Sure, he’s not necessarily the most enlightened dude in every way, but we don’t see him lashing out with homophobic slurs and shit-talking gay people, we don’t see him with a hot girlfriend for cover. So he’s not taking his own advice. It would have been better foreshadowing if they’d set him up more along those lines, so we can see the hints other than his username. Then again, the post is from 2017 so I guess he could have grown away from that mindset or grown uncomfortable with it... But yeah, although I find the idea really intriguing, I’m not sold on it actually happening unless there are some bigger hints.

The advice is stuff like talk about girls all the time, get a hot yet prudish girlfriend, use gay slurs and show how angry gay people make you. We get Lucas’ voiceover as he reads the post and tbh I wish they’d not done that, like it worked fine when Isak was sitting there and they just showed the message for the viewers, like I get that it’s a longer message and they want to make it obvious, but they don’t have to spoon feed it to us. I guess it helps to hear it in Lucas’ voice so we can sense him internalizing it, but it’s still unnecessary. Maybe they could have just shown closeups of the most important phrases.

Clip 4 - Daphne rules the world

It’s the dance chicks clip. Alexia is a dancer! We saw her doing some gymnastics in previous seasons so that’s a nice touch.

I’m realizing that this clip is one of those things in the remakes where the production team needs to be careful, because the clip is about male gaze, but there’s also a line where the depiction of male gaze turns into an endorsement of it, if that makes sense. Like I want it to be clear that the boy squad is panting over and objectifying the girls, but you don’t want the show itself to objectify them. This clip stopped before it got too sleazy for me, so that was appreciated.

Instead of being disinterested like Isak was, Lucas is joining his bros as they drool over the girls. They’re watching through a window by the way, which is creepier than the boys being in the same room and the girls knowing of their presence - it’s a milder version of peeking into the girls’ locker room like it’s an ‘80s teen sex comedy or something.

Arthur resting his chin on Lucas’ shoulder is cute, though.

Lucas is saying some bullshit about how not all the girls are hot, which is kinda funny because lol none of the girls are hot to him, and how he wouldn’t let that girl suck him off, which is also kinda funny because we know you don’t want that, dude, but he’s also trying to be a fuckboy which is not funny.

It’s objectifying as fuck and not funny when you consider his internalized homophobia but I couldn’t help but laugh when he’s like “That girl is hot because she has big boobs” because it sounds like a robot trying to emulate human sexual attraction. Breasts, those certainly are things heterosexual men appreciate!

The other guys are like wow, even Basile isn’t as awful as you. I beg to differ. (Apparently Basile says something that’s relevant to #MeToo, like he wants to get laid but he’s also #MeToo, and get the fuck out of here with that shit, dude. Nothing about your dancing later in the episode says you’re against sexual harassment.) Lucas responds by calling them a gay slur. Lovely! The dudes are like, what’s up with that? Arthur calls it a “closeted homosexual comeback” which is a pet peeve of mine, the belief that homophobes are just closeted gay people, since it removes culpability from straight people (and you know, is not accurate). But he’s a teenage dude and well, Lucas is a closeted gay guy so I’m not gonna get mad about it. Though damn, if Arthur were gay and closeted that would be some good foreshadowing. Takes one to know one?

They get spotted by the teacher and duck under the window. Basile is disgusting. The boys ask what the fuck is wrong with him. Basile does not listen to them because he’s incapable of hearing anything over the constant buzzing in his dick and instead starts telling the boys about his BDSM dream about Daphne and the boys try to get him to shut the fuck up as Daphne appears behind him, but obviously he rambles about his boner until he turns around and does this slapstick-y reaction. I cannot stand him. I’m not as angry about the BDSM dream because he was telling the guys and not trying to tell Daphne on purpose, but this kind of content overall just reinforces him as the bumbling loser comic relief and he’s not fucking funny, he’s deeply creepy and is an actual sexual harasser as we see later in the episode.

At least Daphne says it’s all a fantasy in his head and never going to happen. ❤️❤️❤️ FUCKING TELL HIM. DESTROY HIM. She continues to be the best character on Skam France. Daphne asks what they’re doing there and Lucas says they’re checking out the hot chicks. Daphne tells them they suck (❤️❤️❤️) before walking off. The other guys are like, seriously Lucas? “Hot chicks”? Well, I don’t see quite how what he said is any worse than what Basile says constantly, including to girls’ faces, so maybe it’s a translation thing? The “hot chicks” phrasing has stronger meaning in French?

Arthur asks if Basile is OK and he says, “I fucked it all up.” DUDE you had ALREADY fucked it up from the time you first opened your mouth around her. And as we see, this does not deter him at all. God!!!!! Please fuck off into the void already.

I’m glad they called out Lucas a little but again, don’t see how he was being any more disgusting than Basile is on a regular basis regarding the misogyny. They didn’t say anything overtly anti-homophobic about Lucas using slurs, like really call him out other than some shocked reaction at him using that word. So I suppose there’s a little more ambiguity over whether they’ll be accepting of Lucas’ sexuality. (I mean, I think they’ll accept him based on what we know about OG, but in-universe there isn’t as much of a tip-off.) I did miss that more educational moment, but I also think that because Lucas still has some Operation Hetero tactics to implement later that day, he might need to not be roasted for his behavior so strongly or who knows, maybe he’d back down. (The OG had Isak apologize to Emma and then the dance chicks clip with Jonas calling him out; this version switches the scenes around.)

Clip 5 - Love confession?

Later, Lucas sees the boy squad in the yard, then he sees Chloé and Maria. Prompted by the need to seem heterosexual in front of the guys and inspired by what he read the previous night, he goes over to Chloé to get himself a hot girlfriend.

Lucas apologizes to her and he sounds more sincere than fuckboy-ish, which I think fits because the way he pursued her in the first place was not that fuckboy-ish. Slick, but he wasn’t negging her or anything. However, sounding sincere is not being sincere, because this is the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard out of this kid’s mouth this season. It’s so uncomfortably over-the-top, he’s telling her that he met a beautiful first year and he thought it would be casual but actually he’s falling madly in love with her, and OK, slow down. How long have you guys even talked to each other? 10, 15 minutes? Do you know anything about her?

I get Lucas is struggling but I also want to give him a kick in the nuts before he gets another word out and digs that hole deeper because oh my God this is fucking b a d, honestly, way worse than what Isak did to Emma - what Isak did to Emma was not cool, but he was mostly just giving her the indication that he was into her and had a crush, NOT that he had fallen in love with her and had all these deep emotions for her. It’s really cruel to her. (Although girl … are you really gonna fall for this dramatic monologue when you’ve talked to him like three times?)

He talks about how he’s not handling these feelings well because it’s never happened before, thinking about a girl before he goes to sleep and before he wakes up, wondering what to say to her when he runs into her, and well, I sure as fuck buy it’s never happened about a girl before and that it’s not happening about a girl now. But of course he’s talking about Eliott. He’s just transplanting his feelings for a boy to this fake infatuation with a girl. Lucas blames his behavior on not wanting to seem awkward. Well, I can buy that, just not about Chloé.

Despite this load of floral horseshit, Chloé buys it, because well, she is a teenager. She kisses him passionately right there in the yard. The boy squad sees and approves (Yann’s reactions are particularly funny). Heterosexual mask, securely on.

Lucas walks over and he BETTER not be giving Basile pointers because the last thing Basile needs is encouragement, but nope, that’s what he does, he offered to give Basile lessons. This is like telling Tom Riddle about horcruxes.

Eliott thankfully interrupts Lucas contributing to Basile’s dicktermination. Did Eliott see Lucas and Chloé kissing? I don’t think so, but man, I kinda wished he did just for the angst. He doesn’t know Lucas is pissed at him yet, he doesn’t know Lucas is gonna bro-zone him in a moment.

Eliott returns Lucas’ scarf. It’s actually Yann’s scarf and Yann seems very happy to have it back, awww. Lucas gets forcibly casual with Eliott. He’s not mean, not rude, exactly, just trying to play off their connection as nothing. They’re casual acquaintances and it’s gonna stay that way.

Lucas volunteers that Eliott found it in the common room before Eliott can explain how it got it. The acting is pretty good. You can tell Eliott is kinda stung by this greeting, especially when Lucas is like “thanks dude” in an overly platonic way. Which Eliott returns. Eliott is like a warm, friendly guy and that makes it a bummer to see how Lucas reacts and how that makes Eliott deflate.

With Isak and Even, Even noticed Isak’s discomfort in the situation and covered for him, lied for him about finding the hat in the cafeteria. It was a moment that made me love Isak and Even’s relationship before they even got together because even though Isak wasn’t at his best, it was a mark of their connection that Even could read him so easily and didn’t press the situation. Here Lucas shuts out Eliott, he’s covering his own ass. And I’m not sure if Eliott totally realizes what’s going on or if he does pick up on why Lucas is suddenly dude-ing it up and lying. I think he might just be hurt.

Arthur asks about Eliott, and Lucas starts talking shit about how he’s a stalker with no friends. LMAO. Lucas, the stalker is you, the creeper is you, you were legit just stealing classroom registers over Eliott, you were scouring the Internet for clues of his existence, you are projecting like an IMAX.

They get invited to Daphne’s party via text, but Lucas is clearly distracted and looking off toward where Eliott went. What a contrast in assessments between Lucas telling us how he’s falling for Eliott by way of telling Chloé it’s about her, and him downplaying and trashing Eliott to his friends. I don’t feel like he can relax around his friends at all.

Clip 6 - Secret school party

There’s a giant group of people gathered outside the gates of the school at night, with the girl squad in front, lots of people in costumes. Time for Daphne’s party.

Ehhh … see this is a fun setup, breaking into the school to have a party, it really is, but in context it’s kinda contrived IMO. I guess Daphne got peer pressured into doing it, I know she wants people to find the common room the cool place to be, but I find it hard to believe someone who’s legitimately invested into fixing up the common room like she is would risk a) getting in trouble for trespassing on school grounds b) dealing with any damage/repairs to the room that happen during the party, like if your plan is to fix up the common room, isn’t the likely potential that someone could break stuff or trash the room worse for your ultimate goal? I fully realize teenagers do a lot of stupid reckless stuff, but I’d find this party more believable if it were thrown by people who did not have a vested interest in the repair and upkeep of that part of the school. For example, if it had been the Raptors throwing a party at school after hours last season, sure, I buy that.

I feel like they just had this because they had to have a party in episode 3 (like in OG Skam) that was related to the school group/project that linked the POV character and his love interest (like in OG) and something about them hosting the party at another character’s house didn’t fit, not when the project is centered around another location.

One way that I would have found this scenario more plausible: Daphne tries to throw a much much smaller get-together, maybe just invite the common room crew, keep it under wraps, nothing extravagant, but word gets out more and more people show up (because who doesn’t want to break into the school at night) and turn it into this big thing and it gets out of hand. We see it go from just a few people hanging around drinking to something wilder, she starts freaking out because it’s too much. Even with the “password” system it seems like she had something bigger in mind from the beginning and IDK, even with Daphne being a social climber, even with teenagers being idiots, it rings a bit off. Sorry to be a buzz kill, like I said, it’s an entertaining scenario in theory.

Anyway, they’re at the school, people are in costume and waiting outside. Basile is wearing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles costume. Do you think he wanted the whole squad to go as the turtles, but they did not? They give him weird looks, but dressing as Donatello is legit the least objectionable thing he has done so far this season.

Daphne is dressed as a cat, keeping that Vilde tradition alive.

Lucas has the paint streaks on his cheeks, which is a fun nod to OG and also fitting for the infiltration theme of the party.

Imane says they don’t need the password, Daphne says they do in case there’s a spy. Errr I don’t think a password is going to do you much good. If there’s a mole, I’m sure they got the details from someone else, unless like a 50-year-old teacher is hoping to sneak in unnoticed.

Lol at Yann’s face when he puts on his hood for the “infiltration.” He’s had some great background reactions this episode.

Daphne asks the crowd if they’re ready to infiltrate and they quietly cheer. Basile says “I’ll infiltrate YOU!” and FUCKING KILL HIM, I’M TIRED OF THIS SHIT.

Daphne tells Emma she’s so nervous she almost wore a diaper in case she wet herself and DO NOT LET BASILE HEAR THAT, I REPEAT, DO NOT SAY THAT SHIT WITHIN A FIVE-BLOCK RADIUS OF THAT GUY UNLESS YOU WANT HIM TO START HAVING DIAPER FANTASIES ABOUT YOU IN ADDITION TO BDSM DREAMS.

The gate opens and people cheer because apparently everyone’s an idiot who forgot about the request for discretion 10 seconds ago. Teenagers, man.

Yeah, this is fun in like a Hollywood teen movie way but kinda throwing me out of the story, like even the way the crowd is reacting feels too staged and TV-ish. You know IRL when there’s a group of teenagers rowdy and ready to party, they wouldn’t be super unified in their reactions like that, there would be some d-bags not listening, not paying attention to Daphne, they’d be fucking around and doing their own thing. Nothing inherently wrong with this style but not really what I like from Skam, just my preference!

Clip 7 - Giant neon costume party

There’s like a full-ass rave happening in the school and it’s fun but not to be repetitive, feels more like a Hollywood teen movie even in the scope of the party and the way it’s filmed. Especially - and I’m sorry for harping on this but also, not sorry at all - because Basile’s characterization reminds me of one of those stock characters from those films, like that typical obnoxious loser who’s desperate to get laid and ends up banging Stifler’s mom or something.

Basile slumps next to Alexia and says he’s gonna throw up, she says he’ll be fine. She’s a lovely person, but I want to be like RUN AWAY DO NOT ENGAGE.

She points out that Emma and boy Alex are making out and Basile positively jizzes in his turtle onesie, being like THEY’RE GONNA FUCK???? IN THE SCHOOL???? Is it that outrageous of a concept? What did you think was going to happen when you invited a bunch of drunk teenagers to party after hours?

A girl who looks a bit like Elisabeth Moss walks by and makes eyes at Alexia. Must be Clara! Basile is like, a woman in the same room as me? Can you help me fuck her? Alex says no, it’s her ex, hands off, and that’s Romain’s cue to be like … OHHHH you are bisexual? Alexia cheerfully confirms this. You can see the boner popping in his pants already, let’s be real. Yikes, dude. Her attraction to women isn’t for your enjoyment.

Anyone else getting dancing old man from Six Flags commercials vibes from Arthur dancing in his costume?

Daphne is freaking out and looking out the window, trying to prevent people from smoking. Imane pulls her aside and says everyone’s having fun. Daphne says the smoke detectors might go off and they’ll be in trouble, Imane says she should’ve thought of that before throwing a party in the school. I mean ... yeah? That’s why I’m like, you’re freaking out about this now, you didn’t predict any of these blatantly obvious things that would happen?

Imane’s like “what’s the worst that could happen if they get caught, they won’t expel 50 students at once” and errr IDK, would they have to pay for repairs? Stay after school to clean up the mess? Would the school contact their parents? I can think of a lot of stuff that would suck.

Daphne and Imane go dance. Basile comes up and not only starts to force a dance with Daphne, but in a way that he’s thrusting his crotch against her, trying to touch her and get in her space. Poor Daphne grabs Imane and tries to swing out of the way to avoid him, literally swat him away with her costume’s cat tail.

For fuck’s sake. I hate this guy, I hope Daphne eventually just punches him in the balls. Listen, I try not to talk like that, but this moment really pissed me off. It’s sexual harassment. Daphne has made it extremely clear to Basile that she is not interested in him. She has said it is never going to happen. And he still does not give up, and this was honestly the worst moment he’s done so far IMO because he’s actually physically bothering her, to the point where she grabs her friend as a shield, to the point where she’s having to swat him away.

Tons of women have gone through this experience in real life. We’ve met those sleazy guys who would not take no for an answer. We’ve met those guys who wanted to press their bodies against you and grab you when you have zero interest in them. A lot of us have experiences of latching onto our female friends, or our trusted male friends, in an effort to escape these creeps. Imagine the nastiest guy you know in real life, the one who really sends red flags, and imagine him as Basile, yourself in Daphne’s situation. That’s why I don’t feel I’m overreacting here.

What is the point of this? What is their primary goal with Basile’s character? Comic relief? Or is he meant to be a cautionary tale? Are they building up to a criticism of creepy guy behavior? Because the thing is, they have already established he’s gross. Daphne has rejected him, and he still wants to go after her. I don’t get what more she can do other than beat his ass or complain to the school or something. What, is it going to be like episode 5 when he finally takes a fucking hint? Why was it not obviously clear when she said it was never going to happen? When she tried to escape him at the party? If there’s a more substantial criticism coming, I am genuinely flabbergasted why made Basile 110% disgusting from the very beginning and had Daphne so openly hate his attention, because it feels like the lesson should have happened already. The point has been made.

You know what could have worked better if they were trying to criticize toxic masculinity? Don’t start off Basile as super gross. Make him insecure, desperate, but not panting after Daphne and begging for her phone number. Have his creepiness escalate bit by bit throughout the season, directly encouraged by Lucas’ own fuckboy behavior. Show how those attitudes spread like a disease. Have Daphne show her disinterest, although she’s mostly just annoyed, until finally he crosses a line and then she blows up at him and says it’s never going to happen. Then that’s it. He leaves her the fuck alone. He learns from his mistakes, though he still doesn’t get with Daphne romantically.

Lucas and Chloé are talking about music. Chloé happens to like old school rock like AC/DC and The Clash - coincidentally Lucas’ musical taste, as we learned last episode. I wonder if she actually likes them or she just stalked Lucas and found that information on like his Facebook profile. It’d be funny if she was trying to like what Lucas likes and Lucas was trying to likes what Eliott likes. Because suddenly Lucas isn’t a fan of The Clash anymore, he likes dubstep. Duuuuude, come on. I saw how you responded when Eliott put on that record. I’m just imagining Lucas sitting in his room, forcing himself to listen to dubstep because Eliott likes it, in the way you make a child eat Brussels sprouts.

Mika is at the party and lighting up the dance floor, Chloé says gay guys are so funny, they know how to party. Alexia and Imane who happen to be nearby react to that; Alexia says it was a stupid thing to say and Imane says it was a generalization. Chloé says actually it was a nice thing to say.

Okay, I wasn’t a fan of how they did this moment. The positive side: it’s nice that they made Alexia, a member of the LGBT community, react to that comment and call it out, and had Imane call it out as a generalization, because she as a black Muslim would also know about how generalizations affect marginalized groups.

But no offense, I feel like both S3 remakes so far have missed the point of this moment as it pertains to our POV character. It’s not just a helpful educational moment for the audience. It’s meant as a lifeline to the Isak character. One of Isak’s greatest concerns is how he will be perceived as a gay man, in terms of stereotypes and generalizations. He fears “gay” is a box that will trap him in a certain image, he doesn’t want to be seen negatively as one of those flamboyant gay guys into tights and mascara. He associates “gay” with those generalizations and he fears the social repercussions of that label. We see that when he takes the gay test in episode 3, which is not a measure of attraction to men (as it was in Lucas’ “gay test”) but a collection of stereotypes about gay men’s personality and interests. When he puts down the dance teacher for acting too gay later in the episode, it’s because he wants to distance himself from that type of person. Which is why it’s really important when Even, the guy Isak likes, calls out Emma for using a generalization. Without even knowing the full impact of what he’s saying on Isak, Even provides a counter-argument to the idea that Isak can be summed up as a stereotype. He’s against assigning universal traits to diverse groups of people, and I think he recognizes the trivializing nature of Emma’s comment - gay people are funny to her, it’s like she thinks they’re there to entertain her, it’s this extremely othering remark. Emma is essentially doing something that Isak fears will happen to him if people know he’s gay - just stereotype him and lump him in with all gay people - and Even is there to shut it down.

And you might say, well, Lucas isn’t Isak, so it doesn’t have to mean the same for him, and ... yeah, it doesn’t, but consider that Lucas’ struggle this week was not really about dealing with stereotypes and generalizations. His “gay test” had nothing to do with that at all. Instead, he was struggling with the exact definition of his sexuality, whether he’s gay or bi or straight, and he was trying to fit himself into a heterosexual box not by distancing himself from generalizations but by dating a girl and using homophobic slurs. Like there’s no moment where he calls out a gay guy for acting too gay. When he calls the boys a slur, it’s not actually a response to doing something perceived as gay. So for the “lesson” here to be the same as it was in the original series, and not tailored to Lucas’s specific struggle this week, is a missed opportunity. For example, I think it would have been better if Chloé used some casually homophobic language - not even maliciously, just in the sense that she’s ignorant and doesn’t realize she shouldn’t say some words as a straight girl - and Alex called her out for that. It would be a counterpoint to Lucas’ own behavior.

Also, I don’t think Lucas had a huge reaction to what Alex and Imane said, anyway; it didn’t seem spotlighted in the directing or acting so while it’s a good lesson for the audience to hear, it doesn’t mean a ton to his character’s state of mind. It’s one of those parts that I feel the remakes are recycling because it is important as a general idea, but I don’t feel like they necessarily get why it was there in terms of Isak’s characterization.

Additionally, can’t lie, very disappointed that Eliott didn’t get this moment. I appreciate them giving Alexia a lot to do this season, but this part felt really big for Even in the original show, both in characterizing him and in showing how much Isak was affected by his words, because Isak really likes Even and values his opinion (you know, the whole Isak becoming Nas’ #1 fan in a week thing). This is the guy Isak has a crush on who’s shutting down homophobic stereotypes - that made it so important that this dialogue came from Even rather than anyone else. And on a personal note, that clip was the very first Skam clip I ever saw, and that specific moment where Even calls out Emma was not only the first part to impress me and grab my attention, but it made me love Even right off the bat. I loved that he could explain why positive generalizations are still bad because that’s a nuance I think plenty of people, both young and old, don’t understand. It just was a bit of a downer that this really powerful moment didn’t go to Eliott.

Lucas sees Eliott come in with his girlfriend. Eliott has a mask, covering the lower half of his face. How raccoon-ish? But very fitting for the theme of infiltration, and very fitting for his character to be ambiguous and mysterious.

Eliott’s girlfriend is named Lucille, lmao. Lucas and Lucille! Not weird at all! But what’s the significance of gving them both light-related names?

Of course we have the two pairs dancing, Lucas and Chloé and Eliott and Lucille. Lucas stares at Eliott in a very obvious way, like Isak could at least glance at Even over Emma’s shoulder. Lucas has to blatantly turn his head to look at Eliott. He smashes his face into Chloé’s while making eye contact with Eliott, and Eliott obviously sees this and takes it as a personal challenge. He makes out with Lucille and then stares Lucas in the eye. Again, very challenging. With Isak it was more like this painful longing watching Even kiss Sonja, and then Even looked at him not so much as a challenge but to convey his interest in Isak; Isak didn’t keep looking back for that long before he shut his eyes and kissed Emma, probably imagining it was Even. Lucas kissed Chloé first; Eliott was not making out with Lucille until he caught Lucas staring at him with his lips on Chloé’s. Then it was to convey interest and almost a dare for the other to look away first. Very bold of Lucas, although IDK if he was actually trying to issue a challenge or a fuck-you to Eliott or he’s just bad at impulse control. I think the “fuck you” was pretty implied. In more ways than one.

Not gonna lie, the eye-fucking went on long enough that if it had gone on a moment longer, it would start to feel like a parody to me. I was glad the music got cut off and the lights went on when they did.

Everyone bolts and runs out of the school, Daphne seems to be behind everyone. Basile, do something good for once and distract the guard so Daphne can escape! Throw yourself on that grenade!

Lucas just stops and stands there like an idiot, like I know you’re distracted by your Eliott boner and all but move your goddamn ass, until Eliott grabs him by the arm and pulls him to the side. Eliott offers to walk him home.

Eliott really just left his girlfriend behind, huh? I know Even did it too, but he just left Sonja to go hang out and drink with everyone else, not get caught by a night watchman.

I’m not someone who goes gaga over height differences to the extent that a lot of people do, but that sure is a quality height difference between Lucas and Eliott, made very clear by them walking side by side.

As they’re walking, Eliott says it seems are moving fast between Lucas and Chloé. Lucas says it’s cool but then backtracks and says she’s super into him and it’s stressing him out. Eliott looks a little pleased to hear that. He asks Eliott how long he and Lucille have been together, Eliott says a while. Lucas says it shows - errrr, how? You’ve spent like 10 seconds and two words in her company and all you did was see him briefly kiss her hello and then make out on the dance floor, like Emma and Alex have done that much and they’re not even officially together. He’s bitter, I guess. Any girl with Eliott has been with him too long.

Eliott says he thinks his relationship with Lucille is at an end, though, they’re just going in circles, he doesn’t want that. Lucas is like, to be in a relationship? Probably thinking GODDAMMIT. Eliott says he does want to be in a relationship. Lucas is like, so you see yourself with a new girl straight away? Eliott says yeah, and then after a pause, adds not necessarily a girl, though. That pause is what’s important, tbh, the little moment where he’s perhaps thinking of just coming out and saying it to Lucas. Making clear that his sexuality includes guys, making clear that Lucas is on the menu. And of course Lucas kneejerk looks at him like OH SHIT HE SAID IT.

Lucas looks at him, Eliott looks at him, there’s a Moment. They arrive at Lucas’ place. With this music and the way they’re looking at each other, it’s not so much awkward, more like they’re daring each other to take the next step. Eliott says this is where they say good night. The way Eliott glimpses upwards makes me think he was hoping to be invited up (not even to bone, to be clear, just to hang out/make out), and they’re staring at each other when in the background someone’s getting out of a car and taking bags out of a trunk.

They are hardcore staring at each other and it seems like Eliott moves in just a teeny tiny bit when Manon’s all HEYYYY GUYSSSSS. Lucas looks back at Eliott like, oh, never mind.

IDK how I feel about that ending moment. I feel like it lacks the punch of Manon arriving home, and weirdly downplays the Lucas/Eliott moment. Maybe because the music continues - I would’ve cut off the music when Manon said hello, to break them out of their little bubble, then show her there, cut back to Lucas and Eliott staring at her in shock, in silence. This just felt a little muddled and didn’t land as much emotionally for me.

I’m not like ... angry at Manon for interrupting, I think she could’ve just looked away and pretended to be busy with her bags instead of calling attention to herself. She seems pretty invested in giving Lucas nudges out of the closet, or wanting him to open up to her about it, based on her behavior in other episodes. Like I think she means well, it’s just intrusive. Did she want to interrupt them so Lucas didn’t out himself in front of her? That doesn’t seem entirely congruent with her repeatedly asking him if he’s dating someone or asking about Eliott in the next episode.

The Lucas/Eliott relationship also feels way more of an inevitability at this point. Eliott isn’t saying he can’t break up with Lucille, his comment about “not necessarily a girl” could not be any more pointed. I’m wondering if they’ll bring as much drama with Lucille later on; if they do play out the part where Eliott goes back to Lucille after telling Lucas he wants to be with him, I think they should’ve kept in that part as it’s important foreshadowing. Not just for his relationship with Lucille, but his bipolar disorder and inner conflict. Like there were zero hints of a conflict within Eliott in this scene, he’s just like, yeah, I should break up with her, maybe I’ll have a relationship with someone who’s not a girl, hint hint. So Lucas really should not be doubting Eliott’s intentions at this stage, frankly. It’s Lucas who’s apparently the obstacle, and who knows how long before he gives in to Eliott’s Eliottness.

Social Media/General Comments:

Yann texts Lucas “Kisses bro” after the locker conversation so basically he’s a stand-up pal, it’s very cute.

Basile at least apologized to Lucas via text for blowing up at him because Basile didn’t get his dick serviced on Friday. He also said he’s not even into Maria anymore, it’s about Daphne now, siiiiiiigh. When he asked about Lucas’ mom, Lucas didn’t really answer, said it was nothing and he was handling it. I mean, if Basile has a mentally ill mom like Magnus, this conversation might take on more significance later, like he could’ve gotten Basile’s advice all along.

On a related note, I know I stroked that Basile hateboner so hard this recap that I’m chafed, and sorry if it got repetitive. But also - he’s bad. He’s really, really bad. And if my comments are repetitive, the show is also repetitive in giving Basile approximately one character trait that’s extremely exaggerated. I don’t think we’ve had one “normal” scene with this guy where he didn’t say something awful, like the closest was the first clip he was in.

Lucas is getting very chummy with the girl squad and taking pics with them. He’s also getting alarmingly cutesy with Chloé, posting a pic of her and using emoji hearts. Though that’s a good detail, of course, it’s him trying to act straight.

Is it just me or have they toned down some of the social media presence from last season? I don’t mind it, I think a lot of the SM stuff is more focused on things relevant to the story.

I’m not even getting into the Eliott puzzle stuff. It’s fun but I’m just gonna sit back and watch it happen, otherwise my brain will melt.

Everyone who attended that party is a total fucking dumbass for posting pictures and IG stories of themselves where they are clearly at the school and in the common room on Friday night. I know that teenagers are not necessarily the best at discretion, but LMAO at the theme of the party being “infiltration” and Daphne trying to have a password when everyone’s posting pictures where people are easily identifiable. If shit had gotten out of hand, then they’d all be screwed. Although this is an obvious consequence of throwing a party in the school, you know some people are going to plaster it all over social media. Not hard to predict. IDK, maybe I’m just a worst case scenario type of person, but imagine if shit got really out of hand, like someone started a fire or there was major property damage or who knows, something even worse, and there had to be an investigation. All of you idiots are fucked.

Being honest, in some ways I thought this was the weakest of the three episodes so far - not that it was bad, there were certainly good moments. I think they did a solid job with Lucas’ internalized homophobia, as unpleasant as it was to watch, and Alex’s talk about bisexuality was a strong addition to the story. There were some good acting moments. But I felt more of the weaknesses that Skam France had in its previous two seasons. Things like reusing certain moments from Skam while not really fitting or understanding why they were there, more like feeling they had to be there, or some parts that I thought didn’t quite make sense, some moments that were rushed or didn’t have much impact due to the directing.

I’m thinking that this episode is going to be a particular challenge for various remakes to adapt. Some of it might be that it’s very internal, in a way, with what Isak is going through, and that’s not always the easiest to portray. I also felt like OG had a clear thesis statement of sorts with what Julie intended to accomplish with this episode, in terms of the overall story, and it’s something where you can lose the subtleties if you’re not careful.

This reaction probably seems more negative than I actually felt, because overall I did like the episode and still enjoy the season, it’s just that breaking it down and thinking about it more critically, there were more little things that bugged me this week than in the first two.

I’m not French so feel free to clarify if I missed something.

If you got this far, thank you for reading!

#skamfr reactions #skam france reactions

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drsilverfish · 5 years

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DrSilverfish S9 Meta Masterpost

Blog housekeeping cont!

S9 was a bit of a hot mess of a season, in my view, summed up by this quote from my 9x08 Rock and a Hard Place meta-review:

“If you are going to use sexual dub-con as a “metaphor” for Dean’s control of Sam [the Ezekiel/ Gadreeel possession by trickery, and all its season’s assault/ dub-con mirrors] and yet you insist on mixing that with sex jokes and the sexualisation of violence via the camera, an unholy mess is pretty much to be expected...”

Nevertheless, there were some lovely gems of episodes in the season (as well as plenty of queer subtext) and I enjoyed meta-ing it, notwithstanding the grossness of the larger theme. These shone through, for me; Beren’s first episode Heaven Can’t Wait (9x06) is stlll one of my top SPN episodes of all time; Glass’ deeply touching Bad Boys (9x07) was illuminated by Dylan Everett’s excellent performance as young Dean. Robbie Thompson also delivered an awesome happy ending for Charlie Bradbury with her queer Dorothy in Oz, in Slumber Party (9x04) which I insist on considering her true exit from the show (yes, this blog is still repressing Dark Dynasty 10x21 hard). Plus, Robbie’s Metafiction (9x18) was a glorious meta goldmine (I continue to miss Robbie and Edlund in the SPN writers’ room, among other things for their sense of meta fun).

Also, now, looking back on the season from the vantage point of being several years into the future, it is apparent that (however unpleasant it was to live through it at the time, and despite its often problematic execution) what the writers’ room set out to do in S9 was hold up to the light, via the Zeke/ Gadreel possession metaphor, the tragic toxicity of Dean and Sam’s co-dependency. This was a season in which Dean’s care-taking of Sam (a historic responsibility thrust upon him as a child, through no fault of his own) became a violation. The tragic consequence of which, was Dean’s desertion of his angel, whom his heart had wanted so much, and for so long, to have by his side (witness Dean’s long search for Cas in Purgatory in S8 and his “Nobody wants him here more than I do, Okay?” in 9x04) just when (fallen and newly human) Castiel needed him most.

Yes, Carver took us down a dark road, into the roots of the Winchesters’ psychic dysfunction in S9 (the Mark of Cain narrative of S10 and 11 being the cumulative consequence) so that Dabb could, from the turning point of 11x23, bring us back up, gradually, towards the light.

S9 Meta

1) 9x01 I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here - Who is Ezekiel, Angel of Death?

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/63578850731/who-is-ezekiel-angel-of-death

2) Who is on the Chessboard in S9? Heaven and Hell and In-Between

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/63742883512/who-is-on-the-chessboard-in-season-9-heaven-and

3) 9x02 Devil May Care and the Metaphysics of Violation (CW: for discussion of rape)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/64225291819/spn-9x02-and-the-metaphysics-of-violation-tw-for

4) 9x03 I’m No Angel

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/64899857448/drsilverfish-peruses-im-no-angel-9x03-spoilers

5) Queer Subtext in 9x03 and Its Problematic Execution

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/65335878559/queer-siubtext-in-9x03-and-its-problematic

6) 9x04 Slumber Party Meta-Review

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/65562193440/drsilverfishs-slumber-party-9x04-review

7) Dorothy and Queer-Coding in 9x04 (response to an ask on the previous meta)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/65605250789/miles-to-go-before-i-sleep-drsilverfishs-slumber

8) Dean and Cas and the Violence of Intimacy

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/65880351538/art-by-barbara-kruger-no-homo-fist-bumped-the

9) Sam, Dean and Man’s Best Friend With Benefits

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/66177750491/sam-dean-and-mans-best-friend-in-9x05-spoilers

10) “Bestiality” and 9x05

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/66316186054/bestiality-and-9x05-response-to-an-ask

11) Dean and Ezekiel

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/66573033478/the-path-of-the-righteous-man-is-beset-on-all

12) DrSilverfish’s Heaven Can’t Wait Destiel-Centric Meta-Review (9x06)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/66932619155/drsilverfishs-heaven-cant-wait-destiel-centric

13) Nobody Said it Was Easy/ Oh Take Me Back to the Start - DrSilverfish Meta-Reviews 9x07 Bad Boys

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/67596701624/nobody-said-it-was-easy-oh-take-me-back-to-the

14) Damn Straight Between a Rock and a Hard Place - DrSilverfish 9x08 Meta-Review

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/68292904893/damn-straight-between-a-rock-and-a-hard-place

15) Losing Paradise: DrSilverfish’s (Destiel-Centric) Holy Terror 9x09 Meta-Review

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/69016033105/losing-paradise-drsilverfishs-destiel-centric

16) Supernatural 9x09 The Little Things (Set Dressing Narrative)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/69166320221/supernatural-9x09-the-little-things-spoilers

17) Hail Castiel, Full of Grace: A Meditation on the Nature of Grace in the SPN Universe (9x09)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/69291532196/hail-castiel-full-of-grace-meditation-on-the

18) 9x10 Road Trip and Noir Cinematography

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/76258139601/dean-winchester-walking-away-from-his-brother-and

19) Abaddon and the Femme Fatale (9x10 Road Trip)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/79204466961/victoriavantoch-abaddon-in-9x10-road-trip

20) 9x10 Road Trip - Dean and Cas as Shirley and Laverne

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/81787352715/spn-queer-subtext-instance-no-29996-oh-just

21) A Discussion on Bees, Cain and Castiel with @isthemachinesinging and @x-cetera (latter deactivated) (9x11 First Born)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/74885442456/isthemachinesinging-x-cetera-the-beekeeping

22) Sharp Teeth (9x12) Quick Review

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/74906805501/sharp-teeth-quickie-review-supernatural-9x12

23) DrSilverfish’s Destiel-Centric Captives Meta-Review (9x14)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/78134538414/drsilverfishs-destiel-centric-captives-review

24) So Many Queer Subtext: DrSilverfish Meta-Reviews #Thinman (9x15)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/78828364438/so-many-queer-subtext-drsilverfish-reviews-spns

25) 9x16 Blade Runners Illuminated by Blade Runner (1982)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/80113492162/how-does-the-spn-9x16-episode-blade-runners

26) The Curse of “Old Donkey Teeth”: DrSilverfish Meta-Reviews 9x16 Blade Runners

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/80310421877/the-curse-of-old-donkey-teeth-drsilverfish

27) The Jawbone of an Ass: Dean as Sampson (9x16)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/80414070819/the-jawbone-of-an-ass-dean-as-samson-spn-9x16

28) Demons Walk Among Us: DrSilverfish Meta-Reviews 9x17 Mother’s Little Helper

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/80978944870/demons-walk-among-us-drsilverfish-reviews-spns

29) Metatron’s “Metafictional” Spell: The Ingredients (9x18 Metafiction)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/82933467509/metatrons-metafictional-spell-the-ingredients

30) 19x18 Metafiction - The Trench-Coat and Free Will

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/82948619070/9x18-metafiction-the-trench-coat-and-free

31) Metatron and Robbie Thompson’s Metafictional Send-Up of TPTB (19x18)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83026009934/supernaturals-metatron-has-been-painted-thus

32) What Makes a Story Work? Robbie Goes Meta in Metafiction (9x18) (endnote discussion with @newyeardad )

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83116451392/mixgoldenphoenix-newyeardad-what-makes-a

33) Metafiction’s Subtextual Boner, FYI (9x18)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83202304892/metafictions-subtextal-boner-fyi-spn-9x18

34) Note on Castiel/ Jesus Parallels in S9

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83245109970/tw-this-is-a-scene-from-9x03-im-no-angel

35) Spec on Dean Going Full Dark-Side (9x18 Metafiction)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83307390112/why-was-metatron-using-a-very-supernatural

36) Metatron Links Cas to Bisexual Poet Muriel Rukeyser (9x18 Metafiction)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83318897321/muriel-rukeyser-the-us-poet-metatron-quotes-to

37) “Vampiric Stockholm Syndrome”: DrSilverfish Meta-Reviews Alex, Annie, Alexis, Ann (9x19)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/83659732157/vampiric-stockholm-syndrome-dr-silverfish

38) The Godfather with Fangs Lacks Bite: 9x20 Bloodlines

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/84346671959/the-godfather-with-fangs-lacks-bite-spn-9x20

39) 9x21 King of the Damned and Addictions

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/85142976459/spn-king-of-the-damned-9x21-and-addictions

40) 9x21 Gematria and Jacob’s Ladder

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/85543224799/jacobs-ladder-by-william-blake-1805-in-9x21

41) DrSilverfish’s Network Advice for an SPN Spin-Off

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/85926475349/drsilverfishs-network-advice-for-an-spn-spin-off

42) S9 “Love and.... Love”

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/85936817759/castielandmoriarty-its-killing-him-to-say

43) DrSilverfish’s Destiel-Centric Musings on Do You Believe in Miracles (9x23)

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/86535731704/drsilverfishs-destiel-centric-musings-on-do-you

44) Beheadings, Democritus, and S9 Demon!Dean Foreshadowing

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/86543231314/democritus-meditating-on-the-seat-of-the-soul

45) Crowley, Queer King of Hell and Seducer of Dean Winchester

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/86731441939/crowley-queer-king-of-hell-and-seducer-of-dean

#Supernatural #SPN meta #Meta #Meta Masterpost #S9 Meta Masterpost #Blog housekeeping strikes again

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ultimate-miles · 5 years

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Miles Morales: Ultimate Spider-Man (2014-2015) - Not with a Bang, but a whimper

Post Ultimate Comics Spider-Man #19, Miles Morales’ written career as Spider-Man has not been great. After fridging one of the only central supporting female characters in his cast – Rio Morales, his mother – the state of the narrative became preoccupied with manpain, and framing the grief of a teenage boy as, in the words of Miles Morales, someone who “didn’t understand what it meant to be Spider-Man” (Ultimate Cataclysm: Spider-Man #1), which required his entire supporting cast to shame and emotionally manipulate him back into the job.

If there was any good that came out of the last five issues of UCSM, it was probably the introduction of Ultimate Cloak and Dagger and Ultimate Taskmaster.

Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man, unfortunately, offers very little in the way content improvement outside of one side story and its art direction. Otherwise, it doubles back in circles on subjects and issues that should’ve been laid to rest and ends on an inconclusive whimper.

Ultimate Spider-Man #200 + #Issues #1-7

Death in comic books means nothing, and holds no weight unless you’re a wildly unpopular (or non-white) character that any given publication is looking to get rid of in order to appease their narrow minded (and white) audience. When the Ultimate Marvel universe was created, one of the creeds it presumably lived by was that “death mattered”. When a character died, it would mean something, it would impact the narrative, and every character that died would remain dead.

It’s a shame, then, when they chose to stick their guns, they let Jeph Loeb decimate almost half of the Ultimate Universe’s roster in one of the uglier displays of wanton violence, sexism, and just plain shit writing, with the 2011 “Blockbuster Event” Ultimatum. Ultimatum more or less ensured, despite maintaining the promise that no one would return from the dead, none of the deaths mattered – a lot of it was just Loeb masturbating to his own cruelty if we’re being honest.

With the “Death of Spider-Man”, Brian Michael Bendis added salt to an otherwise unhealed wound that was Ultimatum, which wasn’t even a year old at that point. To his credit, he made Peter Parker’s death matter – book ending it with the first villain that more or less was responsible for the creation of Spider-Man (Norman Osborn) – with reverberating consequences throughout most surviving series in the UM. Yet, following the introduction of Miles Morales – the new and Black Spider-Man (reportedly meant to honor Bendis’ Black children, whom I pity) – you could tell, in the years preceding the removal of Peter Parker as the protagonist of the Spider-Man title, Bendis was regretting his decision.

After a 160 issue run (where Peter made actual appearances and was the protagonist until his death), the questionably numbered Ultimate Spider-Man #200, once again sees Bendis fantasizing about what he might’ve done had he not killed Peter Parker and replaced him with Miles Morales. Most of the original cast of characters that were central to Peter Parker’s story – plus Miles and Ganke – gather together at the Parker House at the behest of May Parker and Gwen Stacy (who appears to be a creep perving on underage teen boys no matter what), to commemorate the life of the late Peter Parker. Considering the previous three iterations of “Memorializing Peter Parker” in the UM, Ultimate Spider-Man #200 brings nothing new to the table, but should’ve been a red flag to anyone paying attention to the declining quality of Miles’ title.

Miles’ final title in the Ultimate Universe, Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man, begins with the reintroduction of a supposed-to-be-dead Norman Osborn – in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D. – and two generic Spider-Man copycats robbing banks. There’s nothing really of note to say about the first seven issues of this thirteen issue title. Bendis decides, with the Ultimate Marvel universe doing the death rattle, to undo the death of both Osborn and Peter Parker – with Peter getting a half-assed excuse for his being brought back from the dead (to sum it up: “because reasons”).

I don’t think a Spider-Man comic has made me quite as angry as this series has. In the moment I read the issue wherein Peter Parker tells Miles, “It’s time for the Original Spider-Man to get back into the game”, I could’ve torn the book into shreds and smote its ruins if I thought it was going to hurt Marvel’s sales and not be an even greater waste of my spent $3.99.

“I can’t believe we’re beating this dead horse again” was what I was thinking and I just stopped buying the book altogether. I think that the first step to mine ceasing to see Miles Morales as a legitimate character, but wasted potential in the hands of non-Black creatives. I only ended up reading the trades for the sake of reference and fact checking and it’s only this year, three-four years after the fact that I bothered to do that. The only thing worth noting about the first seven issues of this title is that it sets up the last four, which are even worse.

Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man #1-3 + Issues #8-9

Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man is one of seven miniseries titles part of the “Blockbuster Event” known as Cataclysm, which sees Ultimate Galactus (or 616 Galactus, I’m not sure which tbh. There’s very little difference between the two when you get to the nitty-gritty) attempting to destroy the 1610 universe and devour it all. You get the distinct feeling that, before someone came up with Secret Wars, Cataclysm was meant to be the true end of the Ultimate Universe – but someone upstairs changed their mind and rendered it to a mere false start. Long story short: The grand majority – if not all of – the Ultimates (the Avengers of the 1610 universe) are killed or sent into the void with Galactus by Ultimate Shadowcat – who is later hailed savior of the world. The All-New Ultimates are formed.

Das it.

But, within Miles’ slice of the Cataclysm story, Bendis finally decides to focus on the elephant in the room: Jefferson Davis and his open and his fantasy xenophobia toward superhumans and how it has literally silenced his own son from admitting to his double life as Spider-Man. Moreso since the death of his mother, Rio Morales, at the hands of Ultimate Venom. I’ll be perfectly honest – I don’t think Jefferson Davis is a great guy – I actually ended up liking his no-account brother (Aaron Davis, gone too soon) far more because he was upfront about his ideals and his mission statement. He never pretended or tried to be a better person. He was just rotten and enjoyed it.

For that one piece of sage advice Jefferson offered Miles in the earliest tenure of his first title, Jefferson is the perfect example of a man who expects his son to “do as he says, and as I do”, but expects no consequences visited upon him whenever he dehumanizes people. He’s a walking metaphor for the heterosexual Black father who spews homophobic slurs in casual conversation around their gay daughter or son and I’m sure as hell that was intentional despite the incompatibility of the allegory.

Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man doesn’t do much to repair his character, if anything it makes him thrice times worse. When Galactus starts wrecking all of New York City and Brooklyn, Miles, Bombshell (Lana Baumgartner) and Cloak and Dagger, struggle to save the people caught in the monster’s wake – all while recounting where they were when the Ultimatum event occurred.

In Miles’ flashback, we see Jefferson lose his head over the knowledge that the title wave was caused by a mutant (Magneto), all while loudly proclaiming everyone stuck in traffic was going to die. The most important nugget of information taken away from Miles’ flashback is the knowledge that his father more or less promised that he would abandon or disown Miles if he ever found out his son (then, probably only 11 or 12 years old at the time) was a superhuman.

I never had much sympathy for Davis (I tolerated him because of Rio), but the moment Miles tries to convince his father to come with him out of the city to safety, and Jefferson decides to blame a now fourteen year old Miles for the death of Rio and Aaron, I just outright hated him. Cataclysm: Ultimate Spider-Man is not a bad read all things considered. It tells its story concisely and never loses focus of its characters in relation to the catastrophe. The downside is that you have to read the rest of the Cataclysm series to know what was going on. I’d probably recommend you read it, especially since it ties into two issues of The Ultimate Spider-Man.

The conflict between Miles and Jefferson is left hanging until issues #8 and #9 of Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man – also known as “The Only Redeeming Thing About This Comic Book Title”. The eighth and ninth issues of MMTUSM sees Jefferson Davis finally owning up to his past and basically just spilling the beans about his life as a criminal with Aaron and how he became involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. during the 80s – when Miami Vice, Jerri Curls, House Party Flattops, and ill-fitting suits with shoulder pads were all the rage – and how he met a young, already-at-it, Nick Fury.

The complete tonal and visual shift in the issues are a welcome respite from the Peter Parker nonsense of the previous seven. The story arc, “Miles Morales: An Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.?”, carries with it the kind’ve of visual flair I see a Tim Sale illustrated graphic novel (like Spider-Man: Blue or The Long Halloween), but it’s still David Marquez illustrating the story from beginning to end.

It’s got the look and feel of a pulp novel, or one of those old newspaper comic strips where the spots of the print were obvious through the inking and character sketches. The narrative, which sees Jefferson and Aaron working for smalltime criminals to Jefferson’s eventual graduation to protecting the Kingpin (with a minor explanation as to why he loathes mutants), is, in my opinion, the highlight of a story that could’ve worked as a full-fledged miniseries about the Jefferson brothers.

My only quibble with the framing of the narrative is that the early inclusion of S.H.I.E.L.D makes Jefferson look more like the unwilling participant of crime he was manipulated into thinking he had to do for “the greater good”, as opposed to some young blood who didn’t give much thought to right or wrong (which is how the early issues framed it) before he had an epiphany. I always assumed the crime came first, then S.H.I.E.L.D, then Rio. Honestly, if you’re at all interested in this storyline, just look for the single issues and don’t buy the trade. You’ll be doing yourself a favor.

#Issues 10-13

Marvel and its twisted, present-day romantic relationship with Neo-Nazism is a fairly ironic one, given most of its early artists were white Jewish dudes with alternate names designed to explicitly hide their Jewishness on account of antisemitism. But, I suppose the publications preoccupation with Nazism to begin with (even if it was denouncing it) would’ve inevitably steered its future publishers to romanticize it in the end. I mean, that’s what happened after all.

You know shit it bad when Marvel wants you to pity [white] characters like Grant Ward of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D for joining a Neo-Nazi group, despite the repeated and angry affirmations of protagonist Daisy Johnson, who flat-out reminds the audience, “You are a Nazi if you join Hydra”, who is undermined anyway by the narrative that continues to bleat, “pity the Neo-Nazi.”

Brian Michael Bendis, in all his infinite lack of wisdom, decides – the biggest way to differ Miles Morales’ love life from Peter Parker’s, is make an underdeveloped character, his girlfriend, Ultimate Kate Bishop, a member of Hydra. Miles’ white girlfriend rides on the agenda of the Aryan Ideal and white supremacy. Brilliant.

The Ultimate Spider-Man issues, #1-#4 and #7 prelude the last four issues with Miles deliberating whether or not he should tell Katie Bishop about his double life as Spider-Man. Instead of being supportive, everyone from Ganke to Cloak and Dagger warns Miles against telling her, thinking it would be a bad idea. He does it anyway, Katie panics and runs away.

The aforementioned issues give the reader a glimpse into Kate’s life with the Bishops, with one conversation with her older sister casually mentioning that “they” would have to kill Miles and the seventh issue concludes with her uttering the phrase, “Hail Hydra.”

If The Ultimate Spider-Man had something to say about the issue of Nazism, especially in relation to Miles’ life as a Black teen – or the cautionary tale of “you never know someone until…”, then I could maybe understand the decision to make Kate Bishop (a wildly popular Avenger in the 616 universe, be she an adult or a teenager) a Nazi.

But, it doesn’t, it basically does exactly the same thing Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D does with the Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward dynamic. The narrative depicts a “Sympathetic Nazi” (Katie) trying to explain their position, and a furious significant other (Miles) outright declaring their relationship is over. Only, where AOS more or less dragged that subplot out to its natural conclusion (“Sympathetic Nazi” isn’t really sympathetic and dies),

The Ultimate Spider-Man did nothing to that extent. Readers barely have gotten to known Katie Bishop since her introduction in issue #23 of UCSM. She was given no time actually to be anything other than “Miles Morales’ girlfriend”. And when it comes right down to it, the Hydra subplot was nothing but an excuse to bring Dr. Doom into the narrative at the last moment. So, the “My Girlfriend is a Nazi” storyline just falls flat.

On a smaller note, the way the last couple issues decide to use Judge – the minor character from Ultimate Comics Spider-Man – is sigh inducing. It’s like Bendis realized his book was coming to an end and figured the best way to a handle a character that barely had any face time since the first twelve issues of the UCSM, is to just plop him in the middle of the story with his already knowing Miles is Spider-Man.

But, he does it in a way that, if you removed him from the story, nothing would change. It’s a superfluous addition and kind’ve discourteous, especially since Bendis doesn’t do anything with Judge later on in Miles’ new 616 title, the unfortunately named Spider-Man.

Outside of issues #8 and #9, Miles Morales: The Ultimate Spider-Man is a sad conclusion to Miles Ultimate Universe solo-title career. It reminded me why I stopped reading his title four years ago, and knowing that none of his recent stuff isn’t any good either kinda makes me glad I made the decision so early on.

#miles morales #spider man #katie bishop #brian michael bendis #david marquez #ultimate miles meta #1610 miles morales #1610 judge #1610 kate bishop #1610 jefferson davis #media: long posts

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shellheadtmarc · 5 years

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actually, because i really need to finish my new theme and need new verse blurbs, here’s a more in depth look at my current/in-use verses, with links to full writeups as available.

mcu: this is boilerplate. i’m a canon tony, this is a canon verse. follows the events from iron man through infinity war for the moment, including the tie-in comics iron man 2: public identity, iron man 2: agents of shield, iron man: the coming of the melter, iron man 3 prelude, marvel’s avengers: age of ultron prelude - the scepter’d isle, marvel’s captain america: civil war prelude infinite, marvel’s avengers: infinity war prelude, and marvel’s avengers: endgame prelude. also includes the post-iron man 3 short about the mandarin. everything not covered/discussed in mcu canon is plugged with 616 continuity canon.

616: what it says on the tin. covers most of the runs from about 2008-present, including the new tony stark: iron man, against my greater judgment, though that may change in the future if it keeps tanking in story. in reality, this actually covers everything post-heroes reborn, but to make it simple we’ll say it’s wibbly wobbly because comics. also includes heavy snippets still in play from classic invincible iron man.

classic: from his first appearances in tales of suspense up to the inception of heroes reborn. or, if you prefer, original flavor tony stark, the cool suave businessman with the aloof nature, party boy ways, and injured heart, reliant on his rechargeable chest piece, as he also has a double identity as the golden avenger known as iron man. poses as his own bodyguard. jetsetter. people love or hate him, but most want to be him. if only they knew how much his bum ticker isolated him. a ton of fridged girlfriends. later physical ailments include: paralysis from the waist down. degenerative nervous system. a cranky ticker more than you can shake a stick at. literally dying and being cryogenically frozen.

616 meets mcu: this covers any time comicverse tony is thrown at mcu versions of the people he knows. things to note include being taller. he has blue eyes. his tech is more advanced. his speech patterns differ heavily. recovering alcoholic, coffee is fine no matter how shitty it is. he has more years as a superhero under his belt at this point. his fears and points of stress differ from mcu tony’s quite a bit, and his reactions are different. he and pepper are barely on speaking terms (generously speaking). he’s different, and it’s obvious he’s different.

broke: mcu-based verse that includes corporate espionage and tony stark having to keep his head down and learning to live under the table paycheck to under the table paycheck until he can muster what he needs to make a frontal assault on regaining what’s rightly his. a verse where tony’s at his absolute lowest, still determined to retain the phoenix metaphor and rise from the ashes of the misfortune thrust upon him.

superior iron man: hiding the fact that he’s still under the scarlet witch’s inversion spell, tony goes full tilt diva, his main concerns being money, power, and fame. he starts drinking again. he makes san francisco his own personal big brother state, where he watches the city like a hawk by day while shilling extremis as a beauty enhancer, and parties like it’s 1999 at his new home on alcatraz island by night. is still iron man, as long as there’s something in it for him. will partially be at fault for the destruction of the 616 universe (it gets better).

hypervelocity: tony’s attacked in his own lab by the mind-emulationware mechs known as “beautiful garbage”, and his newest iteration of the iron man suit forced an upload or a copy of his brain patterns to get him out of there. the wetware is damaged, and the suit dumps it before it bleeds out in the suit cavity, and thus that suit, with the ability to walk, talk, and think exactly like tony stark (albeit full of bugs) is born, to unravel the mystery of the attack and attempt to stop the emulation program that caused it.

ai: after being punched into a literal coma during a battle with captain marvel/carol danvers over the fate of miles morales and concerning an inhuman by the name of odysseus’s increasingly violent visions of the future, and with even hank mccoy being afraid to even draw blood on tony after seeing what tony’s been doing to himself over the years, tony’s ai comes online, as a mentor to riri williams/ironheart and to help against the clone captain america with those of the mount. he’s twice as sassy with quadruple the processing speed, and he’s got some weird feelings about being the recreated consciousness of a living person suddenly finding itself with no physical body.

noir: a businessman who likes to play adventurer for a men’s magazine, along with his best friend james rhodes and their new reporter pepper potts, writing under a male pseudonym, tony stark on the surface has it all in the late 1930s. beautiful women, exciting adventures, and loads of money. but all it does is hide his desperate search for a cure for his dying heart, as he’s forced to wear a metal chest piece that has to be charged frequently to even keep himself alive.

director of shield: mcu-based version of tony’s time as the director of shield. after everything that occurs after captain america: the winter soldier, and the fall of shield, an attempt is made to resurrect it with tony stark at the helm as fury’s replacement (hand-picked). he stresses transparency, he stresses equality, and most of all, he just wants to find a way to balance being iron man with having to deal with the day-to-day bullshit of international bureaucracy.

sorcerer supreme: based on the 90s “what if?” one shot comic. tony was the cause of the accident that injured stephen strange’s hands, and, feeling supremely guilty about the entire thing, searches for ways to give stephen his dexterity and life back. it leads him to becoming the sorcerer supreme, despite that inherent dislike of magic he has, and he combines the iron man technology with the mystical forces he gains a hold over in that quest for a cure.

guardians of the galaxy: mcu flavor for tony’s time as an active gotg. after civil war, on a break with pepper, and feeling about as great about things as someone laying facedown in a gutter possibly can, tony puts his mobile armory into space, tinkers together a suit for deep space exploration, and takes off, losing himself for a while among the stars. threat is going to come from there, sure, but there’s going to be opportunity, as well. it’s a useful thing to find out who’s friend, and who’s foe, and see what there is to see in the black expanses of space.

supernatural: the other family business. being a founder of shield and everything he took to his grave wasn’t the only secret he was keeping, and this was one maria was in on as well. too bad tony doesn’t stumble across it until after he’s already become iron man, where saving the world is so tied into his moral code he can’t look away. if he goes missing for a few days, it’s fine, it’s chill. he’s just taking a breather, not poking around at things he only still half-believes in even when he’s seen them with his own two eyes. the biggest skeptic hunter you’ll ever meet.

fallout prewar: mcu continuity up to the beginning of iron man 3, against fallout’s prewar as a backdrop. tony stark is who he is, he does what he does, but he also is someone certain government agencies would love to tear down, because he’s a rabble rouser against the war, and has no problem hogging the iron man technology for himself instead of sharing with the military. he also has no problem sharing the dirty secrets he finds out with the press. full write up can be found here.

fallout new vegas: tony as the infamous courier six. left in stasis in a vault in california, tony comes to years and years after the devastation of the bombs to a world vastly changed from the one he remembers, and in a vault full of ghouls. once topside, and once reoriented into the world, he ends up something of a jack of all trades until he takes that fateful job with the mojave express, and gets two to the head for his trouble. independent path with the yes-man aligned ending, details of choices and all dlcs available as needed until i get off my ass and do a full replaythrough and write up. keeps the spine from big mt, but his heart and brain are back where they belong. locked elijah in the vault. nuke launch stopped (ed-e repaired after). evacuated the sorrows.

fallout 4 sole survivor: still needs a full write up, but tony as the sole survivor. does not take the shock at the change in the world well at first. eventually pulls his shit together enough to get shit done, but can’t touch a suit, can’t think about the suit, will take some time to even toy with the idea of possibly touching a suit again before he actually can. minutemen and railroad aligned, destroys the bos and institute. peaceful ending with all far harbor factions. spares the mechanist. destroys the raiders at nuka world and turns the parks over to the minutemen. question information as needed until i get a full write up done.

fallout 4 companion: tony’s been in new york since the bombs dropped. there are huge chunks of it that are still uninhabitable, much like boston’s glowing sea, but the parts that are? he’s started on a grand rebuilding project, because he’s got nothing but time: the arc reactor’s kept his heart pumping well past its expiration date. when the bos slow rolls past new york, he follows them into boston, mostly because he’s paranoid and cagey (with good reason in the wasteland) and partially out of curiosity. available as a companion for sole survivors, some restrictions apply, please see this write up for more details.

fallout 76 dweller: locked up with a bunch of other big brains after the bombs, tony’s that guy. you know. the one you read about in the terminal. the one that kept hacking things. once topside again, he sheds that vault tec blue and yellow as quickly as he can and sees about setting things right. a member of the responders. a mole in [redacted]. fire breather. rebuilding the world has to start somewhere, so it might as well be west virginia.

dwemer: the last surviving dwemer, finally peeking his head out of his lab in its pocket plane of oblivion to find the nords are at it again, dragons are still doing their thing, his people have just flat out vanished, and that skyrim is still cold as balls. often gets mistaken as a very tall bosmer. still calls the dunmer the chimer out of sheer smartassedness. swung on rolf in windhelm and ends up in jail more times than you can shake a stick at.

single parent au: handed off a baby under some shady as hell circumstances, unable to find out anything and secretly glad he can’t find out anything about her in the end, tony pulls some strings and sophie stark ends up hitting the jackpot as far as adoptive parents go. tony had thought just being iron man was hard, but now he’s balancing ballet practice and pta meetings with saving the world.

#⚛ (array: verse info)#long post

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jenniferisacommonname · 5 years

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Swallow Your Dreams

All languages, but English especially, like to pilfer foreign words for concepts we wish we’d thought of first. Burrito. Kindergarten. Cul-de-sac. (Direct translation: “ass of the bag” in French. Which I think we can all agree is spot on.)*

But the reverse is also true: we sometimes dislike an idea so much that we can’t stop naming it. Utopia. Shangri-La. Eden. Zion. Arcadia. Erehwon. Cockaigne. Camelot. Xanadu. Beulah Land. Lotusland. Neverland. The Good Old Days. We may think we’re into it, but trust me—the more names something has, the more we despise it.

In the case of utopian fantasies, I think we love-hate them so much because we know ecstasy must come with suffering. Not in a ‘moral justice of the universe’ kind of way, but in a ‘how can you know what wet is if you’ve never been dry’ kind of way. Sometimes the suffering itself gives us hope—sincere pipe dreams tend to crop up when the news is at its worst. Conversely, a lack of suffering makes us nervous, giving way to satirical illustrations of paradise that either chastise our disappointment with mediocrity, or exhort us to fly a little closer to the ground. The only time we drop the subject is when, God forbid, we surpass one standard deviation on the joy curve, at which point our fear of jinxing it forces us into a superstitious, but no less aware, silence. Spectacle is the lens through which we first recognize boredom, and other punning metaphors for what is ultimately a pretty basic philosophical idea.

Anyway. By general agreement, we now find ourselves in one of those Bad News Eras, and the little Dutch boy has long since run out of fingers to hold back the flood. Idealism is rampant, regardless of how angrily it may present itself (and usually in opposition to other forms of idealism.) Meanwhile, the incorrigibly cynical among us can only sigh as we wait for the waters to recede. All of which is to say, I read an article recently. And it annoyed me.

We’ve all heard some version of the old saw that "the world needs garbage collectors;" i.e., polite society has needs that presumably no one would cater to in the cloud-cuckoo land where everyone Follows Their Dreams. Personally, I tend to side with Drew Carey and Mike Rowe on the matter. This annoying article, in contrast, promoted the central thesis that technology would render the “dirty jobs” problem obsolete, thanks to ever-increasing automation. It predicted that in the near future we would achieve, if not Utopia, then at least the particular sliver of it that oversees labor markets.

And honestly, the author could be right. Maybe we'll all have a housecleaning sex robot, and the self-driving firetrucks will aim their own hoses, and the farm machinery will pick the fruit and monitor the soil conditions far better than humans ever could. Maybe we'll all get to be painters, and singers, and writers, and comedians, and movie stars, and the indoor plumbing will sort itself out. There are, we must admit, significantly more jobs in the creative sector now than there were 50 years ago—we're at Peak TV, y'all!—and that pattern can surely only continue.

Aside from the obvious practical considerations, however, this wonderland has a particular Achilles heel that I want to address: everyone will be miserable. (Which, if you’re keeping track from earlier, makes this post one of those Dystopia We Never Saw Coming, Be Careful What You Wish For, Icarus Get Your Ass Back Here kind of stories.)

The thing is, humans like to work. Or more accurately, humans require validation, and hard work provides it with very little outside help. Chop the firewood and feel its warmth through the winter; tend the seedling and taste its delicious fruit. But can you write a song that no one ever hears, and still feel good about it? A few can, and they generally end up draped with popularity they never needed, because output unbridled by fear is the best kind. But most professionally creative people will admit they are inborn approval junkies who have only found success in the business by forcefully taming their instincts—reminding themselves on a daily basis that haters gonna hate, as they say.

The misconception is seductive, though, especially when the known goblin of “fame” is replaced by less vain euphemisms: successful artists are “beloved,” and “respected,” and have “earned their creative freedom” (don’t get me started)… and bystanders tend to assume that all that apparent validation must be pumping through their veins at great speed. To work in a creative field is to install a zen-secreting organ just behind the pancreas, while the rest of humanity is left staring wistfully into the night screens, watching the elite get high off their stash and telling themselves that if only they had the time, or the money, or the housecleaning sex robot, they too could spend all day being creative, and feel just as good as their successful counterparts appear to. Give one of those folks a toe in the door and a deadline, and it won’t be long before they project their individual craving onto us all—say, for example, in an article from a well-known tech platform, which imagines just how great it will be when we can all follow our surprisingly-similar dreams in a tight spiral around one another, gaily refusing to look down at the sink drain below.

But in fact, a microcosm of that supposed nirvana already exists, here and now: it’s called YouTube. Millions upon millions of users with eight views, zero validation, and a numerically-proven feeling of worthlessness. They were creative, and no one cared, which was all they actually wanted in the first place. They tried to make a deal with the devil but even he didn’t bother to show up. And when the milk and honey dispensers become fully mechanized, the pain of that realization will only come harder and faster: creativity doesn’t provide validation. Creativity flows naturally after validation has been secured elsewhere.

When I wake up already knowing that I’m worthwhile, I am able to be creative. When I have the love of a family—biological or chosen—I am able to be creative. When I consider secret personal accomplishments to be as meaningful as public ones, I am able to be creative. Unpleasant tasks and hard work don’t stand in the way of my dreams; they fill a hole that my dreams were never going to fit into properly anyway. To envy a creative person’s life is to look at a garden and assume it’s flowers all the way down, rather than a deep slurry of mud, worms, and fertilizer that allows beauty to spread freely over its surface.

The only real way to follow your dreams is to forge ahead on your own and trust that they’ll keep up. If you can already write the book assuming that no one will read it, congratulations—this message is not for you, and you probably stopped reading a long time ago anyway because you’re not looking for answers. But if you dream of a creative life free from worry, pain, sadness, frustration, and all the rest of the working world’s supposed drudgery, then you’re better off not knowing what you’re missing. And if you’re writing utopic articles suggesting that universal creative employment is a desirable—let alone inevitable—reality, then you’re especially foolish, because you’re promoting a cult of chugging when you’ve already sipped and found it lacking in flavor.

*Side note: Let’s all say a sad farewell to the phrase “literal translation,” whose first half has by now been thoroughly co-opted by the totally-seriously-for-real crowd. Like oh my God you guys, it literally translates that way. Totes McGoats.

#amwriting #creative process #creativity #artist #validation #writers #poets on tumblr #art on tumblr #singerslife #songwriter #actorslife #actors on actors #writers on tumblr #writers on writing #authors on tumblr #artists on tumblr #validate me #validate yourself

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lillaxtrigger · 5 years

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Young hope: Chapter 18

Within the void of a dark room, light begins to poor in upon the crack of the door. A young red headed teenage girl peeks within the retreating darkness and calls out for whoever it might dwell. “Opal? You in here?” Chloe wonder aloud. Once she fully opens the door, the hallway lights begins to flood the decorative bedroom. Several dishes litter the furnishings of the less then well kept room, the leftover food they still hold looking not as appetizing as they once were. The once proud dragon girl that she sought could be found laying upon her bed, stewing in the woeful market brand soup called depression, now with extra bits of sadness. “Beat it. I’m not in the mood for any of your crap.” the monk demands. “Oh, Opal. I can’t stand to see you like this...Later.”

Beginning to depart from the room, she figures if she wants to lock herself in her dank ass bedroom for the rest of time, that ain’t no skin off her back. But Chloe halts in her tracks once she hears the frosty ice dragon command and ask her to: “Wait a moment. Why did you come here? You didn’t just come to kick me while I was down, did you?” Upon turning back towards her the bed ridden monk, she admits after a sigh that: “Ryu wanted me to come over and check to see if you were doing alright. Said something about you not returning anybodies calls. He tried to come over, you’re mom told him that you didn’t wanna see anyone.” “But she’s not home right now. The doors are supposed to be locked.” “Yeah, I broke in, but that’s not the point. The point is that you haven’t been showing up to school in days. Everyone is worried sick about you and they won’t stop bitching at me to do something about it for some god forsaken reason.” Hearing this, Opal finally raises from the groove left in her bed to question that notion of worry with: “Oh, now everyone’s concerned about me? That’s priceless. Wasn’t enough that Ryu came out of the closet, but both Renee and Tricia haven’t been answering either. And on top of all this avalanche of trouble, my powers haven’t been acting right ever since that whole deal with Circe.” “You’re powers?” “Yeah, I can’t turn into a dragon anymore. No matter how hard I try, not even a scale pops up.” “Can you still control water?” To demonstrate, the fallen dragon casts her palm toward a cup of clear water resting upon the nightstand and lifts the liquid right from the glass. From their, she twirls the water all around the room, weaving the liquid both around her and unwelcomed guests. Finally, she tosses the water towards one of her unsuspecting posters, freezing into icicles and embedding themselves within the bedroom walls. A disheartened breath escaping the dragons once mighty lungs, the water warrior sadly admits that: “It just doesn’t feel the same. Like a part of me was just ripped away.”

“I don’t see what the whole friken she bang is, honestly. So you can’t turn into a scaly ice breathing monstrosity anymore, big whoop. I’d call that a plus.” “You don’t get it! Dragon transformation is a big deal on my moms side of the family! I’d be like saying to her: “Hey mom. The part you gave to me that made me a part of your heritage was ripped straight outta me in the blink of an eye. Too bad I wasted it all on nothing but petty teen soap opera shenanigans fighting over some stupid cute looking boy!” If she found that out, she might never look at me the same way again.”

With that admittance of defeat, the fallen dragon flops right back onto the comfort of her awaiting bed. A sorry site to behold for sure. One that tugs on her former nemesis heartstrings. Where before, the redhead would bask in seeing the ice monk in such a pitying wreck of torn emotions and battered feelings, now she can’t help feel like an asshole upon such a thought. With Ryu having been taken out of the equation, they don’t really have much of a reason to engage in such bad blood battles anymore. Their whole damn rivalry was kinda shallow and petty upon retrospect. Two young ladies fighting over little more then the passing fancies of an oblivious cute boy. Fucking reality TV drama all up in this bitch. Best get to work on digging their way out from the shallow remains of this broken love triangle they once had the gaw to call a relationship.

The red head begins her excavation by sitting on the side of the morning girl bed, grabbing Opals attention but with a light touch to her shoulder. “Look, the whole Ryu thing wasn’t that big a deal looking back. The dates that Ryu took us both on never led into anything serious. Probably why I never spared much thought on it when he came out.” This claims start reaching the ice monk, pulling her face out from the folds of her pillow. “As for the dragon thing; That witch bitch snatched up a lot of kids and tried to drain them of their powers. That whole fiasco wasn’t your fault.” “Yeah it was. I got careless. One night, I heard a cry for help in a dark alleyway, the next thing I know, a weird glow surrounded me I a was on the slumber express. I’m lucky to even be alive.” “That’s the thing. You are alive. I’m sure as long as that was the fact, your mom couldn’t give less of a shit about your powers.” “I don’t know. I always felt such a sense of pride when going dragon. Like I was doing that side of my family proud. Without it, I don’t even feel that much anymore.” “Quit spouting that self pity horse waste and listen. You don’t need any powers to feel like that. You’re already good at so many other stuff.” “Like?” “Um...Uh well, Mmm...You’re pretty good at getting on my nerves?” An upset exhale through the ice monks nose passes before Opal sinks back to the comfort of her bed sheets. Seems like this mission to bury the hatchet is hitting hard rock fast. Gonna need something to punch through before the ground below collapses. Perhaps a bit of dynamite might fair to shake things up.

“Alright then, fine. Stay in here and rot for all I care. I guess with you all cooped up in here, I’m gonna have to be the bearer of bad news to your mom.” The threat is more then enough to shock her former rival out from the folds of her sheets and call her out. “You wouldn’t dare. I can call the police before you even get the chance.” she counters, her phone ready at the dial. “Got her number from the sticky note on the fridge. Care to try me?” she boasts, threatening the same notion with the mothers number on the screen. The two phone toting teenagers stare each other down, their fingers itching for the call. The air gave off a much less risky wild west shootout, but with the guns being their phones and the bullets being the blackmail.

Finally, ice monk caves into the red head threats and lowers her cellular device. “Just let me get changed.” “There we go, now was that so hard?” “Fucking glaciers.”

Their trip on this self esteem recovery cruise is first through the metaphorical oceans of the Townsville mall. Although the damage from the town wide riot proved to still linger, repairs were already halfway done. Though Chloe is barely able to notice as she proves herself far too distracted by Opals choice of apparel. “Good god girl, what are you wearing?” “What?” “Why in high hell did you decide to go out in that?” “My sweater?” Opal checks, a warm green sweater wrapped around her body. “Yeah.” “It’s just in case of cold snaps. I’m been getting them ever since Circe messed with my powers.” With a disgruntled groan, the redhead turns away from the walking fashion disaster she called her guest on this trip. It’s far worse then she thought. The poor girls taste in clothing had gone off the deep end. Something must be done to cure this deterioration of clothing choices, post haste, before the poor girl crosses into the realm of the hideously abstract.

Chloe looks about the repaired walls of the mall for a single glimmer of hope to remedy Opals unfashionable affliction. Beyond the gushes of the fountain, a newly added boutique could be taken in view. Perfect. Now to just convince the victim in question to come along for the shopping spree. Best to approach this carefully. One backhanded insult could sink this entire cruise before it even leaves shore. “Hey, you know what always cheers me up when I’m feeling like a puddle of street piss? Buying some new clothes. Nothing like a shopping spree to perk those sorrowful spirits, my mom always says.” “Why? What’s wrong with what I wear now?” Opal questions. “Oh, nothing, nothing. I just wanna see what cute outfits you look good in.” “I don’t know. Growing up in a temple out in China for most of your life doesn’t exactly develop your taste in fashion.” “Well all that’s gonna change now. Come on.” A swipe to the wrist and Chloe set off towards the clothing shop with Opal in hand.

Within the shop of fashionable apparel and cute accessories, the duo partake in the fashion line inside to their hearts content. Tee’s, jeans, and accessories they go through, helping each other on what looks best on whom, though Chloe does most of the judging for what builds Opals wardrobe. Gotta build up a sturdy sense of fashion for the future. Upon one point in their shopping spree, Opal manages to pull out a pair of jeans with a design of a sky blue dragon stitched on the legging. Never though she’d get such a cruel reminder from a pair of pants of all things. Before the ice monk has the chance to dwell on what she lost a moment further, her red headed host snatches the glittering garments from her grasp and instead lends her a new pair of designer jeans, these sporting a pink petals design lacing the leggings. A site that cheers up the dragon a fair bit and reminds her to look towards the future anew.

With their fresh line of fashionable fair in hand, the pair head straight towards the changing room, eager to garb themselves with the clothes they picked. One at a time, they enter and exit, switching who changes while the other judges, even exchanging their picks at several points.

Once that fashionable changing montage has run its course, they walk out with their bags of newly perched apparel in tow. Chloe seems to notice Opals mood having lifted. looking like her woes were starting to lift away. “Seems that mini shopping spree might have done the trick. You’re looking a tons better.” “Yeah. I’d admit, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I did. Wearing the same old stuff everyday and you never really appreciate how you look.” The young monk pulls from her bag of acquired wares a dark purple skirt, one that she had taken a fancy eye to. “Not once did I think I’d pick out something as cute as this.” Upon inspecting the piece carefully, the red head finds it best to give out one more piece of expertise to her budding bud. “Opal, listen, listen...That skirt would go amazingly with something of a light violet.” “You think so.” “Oh trust me girl. Boys would be throwing sticks of dynamite to get a piece of you.” A light giggle escaping her lips, she gives her appreciation for the piece of advice with a humble: “Thanks Chloe.”

Looking ahead, the conductor of this blissful bullet train lays her sight on an obstruction upon the tracks. Their former crush on the approach, with a yellow and black haired individual at his side. God dammit, why does his dreamy ass have to rear itself now of all times! If Opal takes a peek of him hanging out with that bumblebee haired douche bag, it’ll send her back on a one way trip to the precinct of misery and sorrow. Time for this Spicer express to take a sudden detour off the rails. Hastily, she shoves Opal into the nearest store before her site rest upon the approaching duo.

Recovering from the sudden shove, the monk turns towards the red head, and naturally demands an explanation. “What the hell, Chloe? What’s your deal?” “Sorry, thought I might have spotted something in here that you might like.” “In business attire?” “Yeah, sure will find something in this little-what?” Finally, she notices the shop that Chloe had shove themselves into and finds Opal to be correct. The two found themselves in the midst of a business clothing store. Not even a good one where the choices avalible were stylish, more along the lines of causal office wear as the red head looks on in horror the droll line of dress shirts and khakis filling the racks. Oh god. What kind of dorkish hellscape have they forced upon themselves? Even standing aside such passe choices of wares is enough to make the girls skin creep. Best make their escape as soon as possible. “Oh, whoops. My bad. Must have been something I imagined. What’d you say we bounce outta here and look somewhere else for you to where did you go?” Beside her, the ice monk seemed to have slipped form her side, witnessing Opal travel further into the depths of the store. Dear god no. The red head hesitates not a moment further to chase after her guest, rushing into the racks as fast as she can.

Chloe takes her frantic search through the racks and shelves of this office depot, hoping to pull Opal out from the deep wells of this company appointed shop. Has the poor girl finally delved into the depths of madness, or she bravely naive enough to think that she might find something to pull a decent look off in this joint? Dammit, it won’t be long before the spirit of drab office apparel consumes her very being. There might be no saving her at that point. A fate she intends to have not befall the monk.

Her search takes her to the back of the store, the girl she sought coming out garbed in a long sleeved lilac dress shirt in junction with her new purple skirt. “Well, how do I look?” Opal wonders. “You...You look...Not half bad actually.” “You think so?” “Yeah. The skirt actually makes the whole thing surprisingly work.” The red head takes a quite sigh of relief upon the girls overall look. That was quite the scare for the minute there. Thought she’d had her sense of fashion poisoned within this horrid realm of dull business apparel. “Glad you like it so much. Just wish I had enough money to take it home. Spent the last of it over at the other place.” “Oh don’t you worry about cash. Let me take care of cash.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. I’m god damn loaded. Just give me a second.” As the red head goes off to pay for her former foes new digs, the watery young woman looks over to her sweater that rested within one of the bags with a mix of slight attachment and worry.

The next stop on this road trip in the RV of gleeful merriment and mirthful recovery was grabbing a bite to eat. Since Chloe picked where they went at the last few times, she figures it might be time for Opal to take the wheel on a couple stops. Where the ice monk decides to take this road trip was at a Chinese restaurant. And not one of those cheap ass takeout restaurants you find along a strip mall either, we’re talking about the exotic stuff all up in this biz.

The two ladies await for their servings to arrive, admiring the décor planted throughout the restaurant mixed with the eastern style music playing on the speakers above. The variety of food being served to the awaiting people matched the eastern motif like no other, emitting the unique scents that one would find in the land of dragons. The entire restaurant gave out the vibe that you just stepped within a little slice of China. “Wow, this place looks so exotic. Nice choice for a stop, girl.” “Yeah, I thought coming here might cheer me up a bit. The food they serve always reminds me of the stuff I’d eat at my dad temple. Hope he’s doing alright over there.”

Upon that wonder, their food arrives, the waiter resting the delectable dishes before them. While Opal has ordered herself a delectable bowl of chow mein with a side of fried rice, Chloe was given a saucy serving of sweet and sour chicken. The combining aroma’s of the dishes create an overwhelming scent that girls noses eagerly take in. They can practically feel the tantalizing tastes of the Chinese already and hesitate not a moment longer to dig in.

Although the water warrior does not hesitate partaking in her decided dish, relishing the nearly nostalgic flavors; the same cannot be said for the red head, having trouble as early as handling the pair of chopstick she was given No matter what way she choose to hold the foreign utensils, the sticks would always slip from her grip. Looking over, Chloe finds her former rival having next to no trouble accomplishing such a task, taking in bite after bite of the noodles set before her. How the hell does anybody eat with these damn things? Who’s the jackass that thought that eating your food with a pair of sticks would be the most practical idea? The better question is how it became a standard in some countries? Ah, well. No shame in asking for a fork.

After grabbing the attention of a nearby waiter with a wave of her hand, Chloe asks them: “Excuse me. Have you got any forks or spoons I can use?” “Oh, sorry. I’m afraid we can’t serve anyone those at them moment. All of them are being washed.” The waiter takes their leave, leaving Chloe little option but to risk experimenting with the unique set of utensils. Well shit, guess this exotically enticing meal will have to wait for the doggy bag, then. But the red head stomach relay’s to her its objections upon waiting a moment further with quite the upsetting growl, demanding the food before them enter her body at once. Fine, you win stomach. Guess no better time to practice then now.

One more time, she holds the sticks together, pinching them carefully between her fingers. Slowly, she navigates the ends towards her chicken, pinching the piece between the tips. Ha, gotcha! Now to just lift the sour sweet piece and finally partake in the long awaited flavor. But inches away from her gaping mouth, it slips from the sticks delecate grasp and plops upon the table. The gooey sweet and sour sauce splatters upon impact, tempting to land on her newly bought designer garments if not for the red head blocking palm. Jesus, that was close! If even a single drip of this tantalizing nectar got on her person, its doubtful the stains would ever come out. Why didn’t she just order the fucking rice bowl? Damn this enticing Chinese explosion of sauces and flavors. The taste of exotic foods was always such a crippling weakness to the young lady, no matter how unashamedly juicy it may present itself. Its all just so damn tasty.

Opal on the other hand proves to be halfway done with her chow mein, taking in the delectable noodles with nothing but pinches from her chopsticks. As she continues to dine on her dish however, she can’t help but notices Chloe’s fumbles upon the same venture, watching as she struggles to lift even a piece of her chicken. Where before, the monk of water would take the opportunity to show off amidst her former rivals falls from grace, she instead feels motives for a much opposite form of action.

Pinching the piece of sweet and sour chicken with a stick in each hand, she slowly lifts the longing flavor of the saucy poultry towards her mouth, only to have the piece fall right back on the plate. Right from the cusp of a boiling rage, Opal cools her growling with a grasp of her shoulder while relieving the sticks form her grasp. “Chloe, relax. Chopsticks aren’t that hard once you figure out how to use them. Let me show you how to hold them before you stab someone’s eyes out.” The monk returns the red head sticks back to a single palm, placing them between her index finger like a pair of pencils. “Just place the two sticks between you’re index finger and hold then with your middle finger and thumb like so.” That step finished, the next one shows Opal guiding their hands towards Chloe’s awaiting delectable dish, pinching a piece between the tips of the sticks using her finger and thumb. Finally, the piece makes its trip towards Chloe’s long awaiting lips once more, finishing its abrupt journey with a well deserved bite. At long last, the red head can savor the sweet and sour flavors that swirl within her mouth, the exotic tastes queuing a satisfied moan. After swallowing a piece of her well desired dish with an ending sigh, the red turns to the water monk, with a thankful: “Thanks a bunch, don’t know how much longer I could risk getting any of that sauce on my clothes.” “Hey, don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do after you bought this shirt for me.” “Now I can finally dig into this bitch!” Eagerly, Chloe pinches another piece and quickly laps up the chicken towards her mouth, but she proves that she still need work with the utensils as she drops the piece just as fast. A lowkey growl escaping the cracks of her teeth, Opal gives her reassuring calm by noting: “Hey, don’t sweat it. All it takes is a little patients and some practice. You should have seen the first time I handled them, one of them wound up flying in my dads ear.” “Really?” “Yeah, I was almost grounded.” Sharing a pleasing giggle, the two return to their meals with the aim to finish.

After a while, the duo finally end their meals with a relaxing slouch and a hearty sigh. “Man that hit the spot. That chow mein you shared with me wasn’t half bad.” Chloe admits. “That sweet and sour chicken you picked out was pretty nice too. This place serves some good Chinese.” Opal shares. “Well, hope you hadn’t had you’re fill yet. We still got some day to burn off to make some stops.” Rising from her booth, the red head prepares her trip towards the bathroom with the followup of: “But first, I gotta make a stop myself.”

One trip to the bathroom passing and Chloe prepares her walk back to pay for the check. Something that catches her eye makes her halt in her tracks however. Her former crush, Ryu, sitting in a booth facing the young man he walked beside with earlier. Are you fucking for real, here? Is he just following them or is this just some massive ass coincidence. Better bolt it before the site strikes Opals gaze, else the whole day plan might come to a screeching stop.

As the ice monk prepares for their departure, she takes witness to her red headed friend making a swift rush in her direction. Quickly setting the money she owes upon the table, Chloe takes Opals hands and rushes for the door. “Come on. The night is burning.” she insists. Little do both of them fail to realizes is that the water warrior has yet to retrieve her sweater, resting upon the seat of their former booth.

With their stomachs stuffed and their taste buds quenched, Opal yet again takes the reins of this frolicsome venture, riding into the realm of infinite possibilities as the day soon fades to make way for the towns dusk. However, in what seemed like a cruel joke, the water monk decides that the next stop upon this girls night out was an office supply emporium of all place. “You know, Opal. You had me with the restaurant and then you lost me here. We’re supposed to be having fun tonight. Why did you drag us hear of all places?” “I just need to stop in here to get several things. My supplies stock has taken a huge nosedive and I need to refuel.” Hearing a load groan escape the redheads lungs, Opal reassures her to: “Don’t worry. I promise we won’t be here for long. Maybe you can help me pick out some cute files.” With that, a much louder groan escapes the red head.

Surely, an excuse that she has heard many a times by now. It’s always just a couple minutes, isn’t it? But a couple could soon easily morph into several, as evidence by the so many times Kingsley has drag her and her parent to this accursed depot of business tools. Seriously, every time she wound up in here, the minutes just slug on to a dead crawl. She’d even try faking sick a couple time just for the hope of relief from the ticking of the clock. Though the red head dares make an acceptation this time around, as her determination to put the petty past behind beckon to the call. This is a day of redemption dammit, a day that will not be tainted by the impulses of rising boredom. If her budding bud wishes to partake in this spree through the mart of office supplies, so be it. Chloe’s only concern is how long she’ll be able to last amidst the droll wilds.

And its not long before the red head resolves swiftly begins to wear thin. The trip through the depot leads them through shelves of staples, plenty of papers, and countless amounts of pencil and pen alike. While Opal enjoys the weirdly tranquil calm of looming through the interior of the store, the redhead was beginning to loose her mind trekking through all of it once again as the horridly shitty excuse for store music breaches her ears for the 10th time in a row. Seriously, its all they fucking play here! She’s heard it on loop, so many times, she occasionally hears echoes of its reprise long after she’s departed. If she has to navigate her way through even another hall of boring file organizers, someones spine is coming out of their backs. The wonder if her former rival just dragged her hear to make her suffer, begins to take hold.

Upon the cusp of a rage induced shit fit, something that catches her eye halts her readying freak-out. Twas nothing more complex then a simple pen, a pen with a rather unique design catching Chloe’s eye. It looks...really nice actually. The elegant pattern swirling along the barrel, the gracious clip seamlessly matching the design of the cap, almost like the designs of a fashionable dress. How the hell is it possible for a pen to look this good. Throughout all the times she’s been through this god forsaken office store, she’s never noticed such a gem. Can’t let this catch slip through her grasp. Taking her newfound pen, she turns back to find she has lost site of her frosty friend. Dammit, where did she wonder of to, now? Swear, you take your eye off some people for a moment and they’re gone, just like that. Better find her before she looses herself in the swirling nether of clip boards and printer ink.

In the midst of her search through this office emporium, Chloe comes across a mess of supplies forming trailing throughout the isles. These supplies seems a little familiar. Staples, paper, pen and pencil. Weren’t these the things that Opal was shopping for? Hard to say for certain. Almost everything in here looks the same, all of it blending together to the red heads point of view. But something still feels amiss. She knows Opal isn’t this incompetently clumsy just to drop her shit everywhere like this. Whatever’s happened, she better follow the trail fast.

The path of paper and pencil leads Chloe all throughout the depot, weaving through the countless isles of supplies and customers. Each second passing is another moment the red heads worry grows. The trail beginning to wear itself thin the further down it leads, she hopes that the path doesn’t come crawling to a close soon.

The paper and pen path leads towards the back of the store, Chloe finally coming across Opal huddled in the corner. “Opal, finally. What the hell happened? Why’d you just ditch me like-...Huh?” A closer look upon the ice monk revealed her to be suffering from a nasty shiver, her breath on full display within the heated space. “Opal, what’s going on!? What’s happening!?” “Cold snap...Can’t find...sweater...Need warmth...now!”

Not a moment further does Chloe wait to drag her freezing friend out from the business depot, ignoring the alarm that sounds off as they pass. Out in the parking lot, the red head looks around, hoping to find someplace for her bitter cold bud to thaw. Can’t take to the skies, gliding through cold evening air is just asking to make things worse. Too far from home either. The trip potentially taking roughly an hour on foot. Not the kind of time she has to spend. There’s gotta be somewhere around here a couple gals can shelter themselves from the chilling cold of the fall winds. Wherever that may be, they better find it fast, else Opal might make for a fine example of the looming dangers of hypothermia.

Up and down and all around the block they go, hoping somewhere around was the salvation of heat and warmth the freezing monk so desires. With each passing second, her shaking worsens. Chloe feeling Opals shivers against her body worsen as the red head holds her tight for warmth. Come on! There has to be somewhere here that can save them from the freezing faults of fall. Another minute longer and shemight succumb to a frightening frosty fate.

In the midst of her frantic search for the desiring relief of warm do the duo spot an orange glow, piercing through the darkness of an alleyway on the wayside. Not a moment longer do they rush towards the light, finding within the alley a burning oil drum that few of the cities homeless have huddled around to bask in its heat. Perhaps not the most appealing places to seek shelter from old mans winters knock at the door, but given Opals dropping temperature, it’ll have to make do. The freezing monk wastes not an another moment to approach the glowing blaze, warming herself against the radiating heat. “You feeling better?” the red head asks her. “Yeah...Warming up at least.” “Hah….that’s nice to hear. Thought for a minute there you would have ended up turning into a grape dragon popsicle.” “I...I don’t get it.” “Ah, see it’s cause you’re wearing purple and you almost froze to-” “My sweater! I don’t know where it could have possibly wound up. I need to get it back.” “Oh...Well don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll just get ya something even better to where. Maybe even a designer coat with silk lacing in the-” “No!” The suddenly harsh objection from the warming warrior makes the fiery red head and the other homeless jump back. “I need that sweater back ASAP...I can’t go home without it.” she demands under the frost of her breath. “Alright, fine, Jeez. I’ll get it back for you.”

As Chloe takes flight from the orange lit warmth of the burning blaze, she wonders what the hell bossy MC ice fangs deal is. It’s just a stupid sweater. Not even a good looking one either. That snot colored abomination didn’t even look that good on her to begin with. If she was that worried about getting cold, it’d be best to get her a much more stylish designer coat instead. Perhaps something of a magenta color would tie her look together quite nice. Something to spare thought to as she begins her search for the ice monks sweater. Don’t want all that hard work and cash in cheering the girl up to go right down the drain. The only question left unanswered is where they could have left the damn thing. Only four places it could possibly be at. Seems this mystery is gonna require retracing their steps.

First stop on this mystery march was back at the business supply emporium. “Nah, we haven’t seen you’re friends sweater, But we did see you two run off without paying.” the cashier mentions. A disappointed sigh escapes the red heads mouth as she pulls out the money she owns.

Second stop upon this sweater search was at the boutique, the cashier at the front claiming: “No, you’re friends sweater wasn’t left here. Good thing, too. That horrid thing best not be left in our shop.” Although inclined to agree with the sneering comment, the red head ultimately takes her leave.

Up next was the office dress shop, and much like the other shops before that Opals sought after sweater is: “Ain’t here. Sorry. Though while I have you, would you like to try out are new membership plan. You get a new pair of khakis sent every month?” Nope. An irritated growl seeps through her teeth as she walks out.

Only place left to check on the list was the Chinese restaurant they dined at earlier. Luckily Chloe manages to strike a bit of gold during the hunt, the waiter confirming that: “Yes, it was here. You two left it at the booth you dined after rushing out.” “Really? Mind if I have it back then?” “Oh, sorry. A couple of guys that came in here earlier snatched it up on their way out before any of us could grab it.” “What!? Can’t you at least tell me what they look like?” Chloe pleas. “Eh, not really sure. Didn’t really get a good look at them going out. Don’t know what to tell you.” “I-...Thank you for your time...” A weary moan leaves the girls lungs at she exits the restaurant.

Well, that proved to be a complete waist of time. Going around everywhere only to find out that Opals stupid sweater was stolen. Who in their right mind would look to a sweater left on a random seat of a Chinese restaurant and go: “Ah yeah. That shits mine, motherfucka!” Fuckin really now! Now how to break the news to her as gently as possible?...Wonder if the boutique still open?

A round trip back to the alleyway the fiery red head left her frosty friend behind and she finds the lady of the hour has left the scenes entirely. Oh, where the hell did she wonder off to now? Can’t exactly message the girl to see where she’s at. Never bothered to get her number. Okay Chloe, calm down. She’s not stupid. If she left, then that means that her cold spells must have wore off. At least she’s alright for now. Only question left was where she went. Now think; where would someone who grew up in a Chinese temple for most of their life go to when feeling like frosty shitcicles? ...

Within the confines of the Townsville park, a wide view of Chinese themed scenery stretched before her. Flora and fauna from the very country it was attempting to emulate planted throughout the section of park. Buildings matching the old atheistic placed about to go with the tranquil scenery, some housing public services. A calming stream leading throughout the park flowed from the ponds almost like lifeblood, little wooden bridges connecting the lands for safe passage. Completing the entire eastern aesthetic with the paper lamps suspended upon the poles. Its a miracle this place remained untouched during the town wide riot. It always looked so gorgeous. The redhead can’t imagine what would happen this beautiful portal into the land of dragons were destroyed overnight. The park just wouldn’t be the same. But now’s not the time for exotic admiration, there’s a friend that needs to be found, dammit. Best find her soon before this nightly fall air makes her succumb to another cold snap.

The koi ponds, the ancient bell, the lily garden, the bamboo thicket each and every corner the red head looks for the lady of the hour, finding not a single speck of the frosty lass anywhere. Checking in the buildings around proved to be just as a fruitless endeavor, the ice monk failing to be in any of them. Maybe she just went home after all. As Chloe begins her trek out from the eastern themed park, her expression perks upon spoting a familiar figure standing atop one of the wooden bridges crossing the streams.

Opal herself was busy staring down into the flowing stream below, entranced by the passing koi fish as a senses of waning nostalgia envelopes her. “Hey girl!” The call for attention snaps her out of the enticing trance, finding her fiery red head friend approaching from the side. “There you are. I was getting worried you might’ve went home. Good thing I caught ya hanging around here, huh. Nice to see that you’re feeling better too.” “Uh, thanks...Did you find my sweater yet?” “Ehhh...No, wound up getting stolen.” “What!?” the ice monk exclaims, visibly distraught by the baring news. “But don’t you fret. I got you something even better. Ready?” With that, the red head presents her final gift on this metaphorical merriment cruise liner: a top of the line fur designer coat. “Ta da!” Placing the coat in Opals grasp, Chloe goes into further detail about said gift with: “Figured it’d help you plenty with any freeze spells you might catch, with it’s thermal wool interior and heavy outer fabric, that baby should keep you warm no matter how low your temperature drops.” “I...Um...Th-thanks...I guess.” “What, you don’t like it?” “It’s just...I really wanted that back sweater back is all. And hearing it get stolen is just-” “You still going on about that national offense of fashion? Just forget about it. That coat I picked out for you is way better then that snot green disaster any day of the week” That snide remark manages to set the water warrior off to boil, arguing with: “Excuse me!? That offense of fashion was special to me. You can’t just replace something like that.” “Oh, come on. I guarantee you that coat you’re holding has had a lot more money dunked into it then that mucus colored mess ever held. What kind of value could that hideous excuse for clothing possibly have?” “It was a gift from my cousin, you bitch!” A mix of shock and guilt befalls the red head upon this fact reaching her ears. “I haven’t seen him in years, but he sent me that sweater as a birthday gift several months ago.” “Opal, I-” “You know, I was honestly hoping that we could have put all all our bad blood business behind us and maybe bury the hatchet. I actually liked hanging out with you and thought you were really cool. Like, I was thinking, “Hey, I guess she isn’t as bad after all.”… But I was wrong. You’re really are just and as selfish and inconsiderate as I thought.” Her words of bitter scorn and deep remorse delivered, the fallen dragon tosses her newfound coat into the mercy of the sky, the fall winds above claiming her ill received gift for themselves. The emotionally wounded warrior then departs, leaving Chloe to stew in the wonder of her actions.

Hmm, figured that conversation could have taken a much smoother route. Things might have not taken such a drastically worse turn if the red head hadn’t crashed into the ice monks nerves like that. Maybe it’s not to late to apologize for the sudden wreck?...You know what, no. If that bitch isn’t thankful for all the money I spent on her, so be it. There’s better things to do with ones time anyhow.

Ready to depart and leave the upset dragon to her woes, Chloe turns around to find her former crush right behind her. “Hey Chloe, what’s up.” “Ryu, hey.” Whoa, when the hell did he get here!? Wait a second, did he catch that whole fiasco? Judging by his upbeat expression, its a safe wager to assume that he didn’t see much. Play it cool, Chloe. “So, what brings you around here?” “Just hanging out with this cool guy I met the other day. I spotted you and Opal at that Chinese restaurant earlier and was hoping I could catch you two to talk for a bit.” “R-really? With what?” “Well, this might sound kinda weird. But I always got the impression that you two might have been fighting over me.” “What? No. No. That’s crazy. Whatever gave you that silly idea?” Oh god. “Well, I kinda figured that both of you had a thing for me and wanted to say sorry if I may have broken a couple hearts coming out.” “Ryu, it’s no big deal. Honest, I’ve moved on.” “Okay. I was a little worried there. Hey um, if you see Opal, mind giving her something for me as a sort of apology.” Curiously, the red head awaits as the boy before her turns from behind, requesting her to: “Wait for it...”

Shortly, he pulls his of apology which takes the form of Opals lost sweater. “Her sweater!?” “Yeah, I kinda saw you two rush out of the restaurant without it. Figured she might want it back. You know where I can find her?” “Um-Uh… Swiftly, she nabs the sought after garment from the boys grasp, promising him that: “Don’t sweat it. I’ll make sure she gets it the next time I see her.” “Oh, great. Thanks. You know, I’m so happy you two are finally getting along. I guess with me outta the game, there’s really no reason to fight, is there?" “Ha ha, yeah. Good to hear. Ha.” God dammit. “Cool. Listen, I gotta get back to this guy that I’m hanging out with. Maybe work up the nerve to ask him out. Tell Opal I said hi!” With the boys leave, Chloe gives her wave goodbye, waning the further he goes as she says farewell with: “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell her. Good luck on your little date, Ryu. Ha ha ha...ha ha...ha...Shit.”

Whelp, guess that was the final nail in the coffin, wasn’t it? The red head felt like a complete asshole. I mean sure, at first she did all this because nobody would shut the hell up about it, even tempting to leave when the fallen dragon proved to be too stubborn. But during their time spent together, they found more common ground then either of them realize. Maybe there was even a chance to form a budding relationship where war once waged. Fuck, why did all that have to come out of her mouth. Hope the soil isn’t too far tainted for anything to grow now.

Around the park she goes once more, hoping to catch the ice monk before her bitter departure. However, another sweep around the park proved fruitless as she fails to find Opal anywhere. Please say she didn’t leave already.

Within the confines of a hidden grotto, she finally found the frosty dragon of ice, dwelling in the darkness upon a stone seat. Opal herself not to happy that her depending rival uncovered her, evident by questioning with a mildly harsh: “What do you want?” “I um…I was hoping to catch you so I could say sorry for the sweater. Didn’t know it meant that much to you. I shouldn’t have made us leave without it.” A depressed breath escaping the fallen dragons mouth, she turns her gaze away from the red head. “But guess what, it didn’t get stolen after all. Ryu stop by to chat and found it.” Reaching around, she presents the treasured sweater in question, prompting Opal to slowly approach. Showing little emotion, she takes the sweater from the red heads grasps and after inspecting it asks: “So Ryu found it, huh? Did he say anything else?” “Just sorry that he kinda broke your heart.” “Oh...” Her sweater in hand, the icy monk returns back to the shadows of the grotto, her gaze breaking with Chloe once more. “Listen, if it’s Ryu you’re still worried about, you don’t need him. You-” “It’s not Ryu I’m mad about. I’m over him. It’s about you.” “Me?” “The way you treated my sweater with callous disregard, it showed how little you think of me. That you barely even considered how losing something like that made me feel. It make me wonder that all we did today was just you trying to look like the bigger woman.

Hearing this, Chloe approaches the dragon monk, sitting beside her upon the hard stone. “Look. I’m just gonna come clean with you. At first, I just did this because everybody wouldn’t stop coming to me about you, like whatever you do is my damn business. But the more time I spent on this whole trip, the more I began to enjoy it. I mean picking out great clothes, teaching me how to use those chopsticks, finding an amazing looking pen. I’d never thought I’d have much fun hanging out with you, until today. And about your sweater, you’re right. I acted like I could just buy my way outta loosing it and never thought it might have been important to you. I always just took that kinda of stuff...for granted. You’re honestly one of the coolest girls I’ve ever met and I really don’t want things to end like this, but...I understand if you never wanna see me again. Later.” Her heartfelt apology dealt, the red head prepares to take her leave from the darkness of the grotto.

Right on the cusp of taking her sorry leave, Chloe hears the sound of the water monk call out and demand that she: “Wait.” A quick turn about towards her staring frosty friends request and she wonders what the girl might have left to get off her chest. “...Thanks for...getting me out of the house and taking me shopping. You’re whole encouraging blackmail trip actually kinda helped. I was beginning to feel a lot better. Lord knows how long I’d stow myself in my room if you hadn’t forced me out. Do you...do you still think we have time to hang out?” A warm smile drawn across her face, the red head approached and reassured that: “We’re teenagers. We can make our own time. But you might wanna better way of hanging onto that sweater of yours. Hang on.” Taking the garment from Opals grasps, she ties the warm sweater around her reforged friends neck. “There we go. Don’t look half bad on you when you wear it like that.” “Hee, thanks. Come on.”

Upon emerging from the darkness of the grotto, the sound of the ice monks phone halts the two in their tracks. “Oh hang on.” Digging the phone from her purse, she takes the answer, only to be met with the ballistic screams of her mother on the other end “Mom...S-slow down, what are you talking...The business depot...They said I did what!? Ha-hang on mom! I can explain, I...um, I...” Struggling upon what to say to the furious parental figure, the fallen dragon feels the calming touch from her once bitter rival upon her shoulder, looking back to find the fiery red head with a reassuring smile. The doubt and fears leaves the renewed monks person with a soothing breathe, determined to face the fury of her mother head on with: “Mom...There’s something that I need to tell you...”

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With this chapter, I wanted to try and explore the dynamic between Chloe and Opal in the aftermath of their burnt out rivalry. I thought it might be interesting for Chloe to try and help out a former rival having been weakened by the scares left behind by Circe, exploring a different side to the whole coping story that I did with Roy a couple Chapters back

(Also as a good story excuse to retcon Opals dragon powers, but never mind that.)

#lillaxtrigger #Young Hope

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