#and I won spectacularly. isn't it great

[caluupin]

ARCHONS TO SEND OFF THE YEAR!!! (kind of a redraw from last year's September)

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Victory Tastes Damn Good - Carlos Sainz

<word count - 3384>

warnings - smut, under 18s dni

"Come on Carlos, come on," you muttered, feeling sick with nerves that you thought you might throw up. It was the final lap of the Singapore Grand Prix, and Lando was doing a great job as he backed up the final of the two Mercedes.

You couldn't help but close your eyes as they hurtled down the homestraight, unable to watch just in case it went wrong. But, the angels were looking down on you and granted your wishes, as you heard through your headphones, "Carlos Sainz has won the Singapore Grand Prix!" 

The team were screaming and jumping for joy, and you couldn't help it as tears escaped your eyes and down onto your cheeks. Even more tears flowed as you sang along with Carlos and his engineer, in celebration of the smoothest of operations. 

You rushed out to parc ferme, but couldn't get anywhere near the front due to the masses of Ferrari personel that were out there. You didn't even care though, as you got to watch Carlos get out of the car, finally victorious. He had been close in Monza, but that didn't matter. 

You may not have been able to see his face, but the pure joy that radiated from him could be felt from the distance you were at. While everyone was occupied at parc ferme, you headed straight to the podium.

Seeing him stood up there was magic. There was no easy way to describe how you felt, but it was like drowning in a sea of golden delight, and you didn't know whether to open your eyes or let it take you away.

It was like you were in a dream, and a part of you was terrified that you were going to wake up. You just couldn't tear your eyes away from him. You thought he was going to fizzle away, and the Spanish anthem would turn Dutch, and Carlos would turn blonde. 

But, it didn't happen. The anthem finished, and the Scuderia finally got to hear the grace of the Italian anthem. Carlos simply couldn't wipe the grin off his face, and you didn't want him to. It was the embodiment of everything he had worked so hard to achieve, and his brilliantly clever and down right genius racing had brought him to where he deserved to be.

At the top.

Watching him hoist his trophy high wa bliss, and it was like a King in front of his people as the whole of the Tifosi beneath him cheered and screamed. As the champagne flowed, Carlos and Lando showed everyone just how precious Carlando was, and you adored the friendship they had. 

Just as you had managed to stop crying, you finally got to see Carlos properly, and he had finally found you. He was looking for you, but was too caught up in the moment to properly search. You didn't know what to say as you looked at him.

He was stood right in front of you, and you couldn't muster a single world. "I just-" you fumbled, putting both of your hands on his face and squishing his cheeks lightly, trying to check if he was actually real. 

"You just fucking won, Carlos!" you squealed, violently shaking him by his shoulders, before yanking him into your arms. "Did I? Huh, I was wondering where the trophy and champagne came from," he deeply chuckled in your ear. 

"I think someone slipped something in my drink this isn't normal," you laughed, ruffling his hair slightly. "It's called being extremely fucking happy, baby, I feel it too," he said, kissing you as he picked you up and twirled you around. 

"We are getting so fucked up tonight," you beamed, itching to get celebrating as wildly and extravagantly as you wanted. "Well, you might be," he cheekily smirked, winking at you. 

"Wasn't what I was talking about, but since you've done so spectacularly, I'll consider it," you smirked, spotting the mischievous glint in his eyes. "I doubt you'll be having to do much considering," he whispered in your ear, backing you up and pinning you against the wall of the motorhome with his body. 

"I think I deserve it, don't you?" he lowly asked, his breath tickling your ear. 

"Oh you do, but you'll have to wait," you mused, knowing that you had absolutely no control in this moment, but you knew he liked it when you thought you had the upper hand. "Winners don't wait, baby," he coyly grinned, leaning impossibly closer to you and peppering a few light kisses down your neck.

"This one is going to have to, this isn't the right place," you said, gently pushing him away with a tap on the shoulder. "And why is that?" He asked, gazing down at you as he still pressed you against the wall. "You know why,"

"Maybe I do, but I want to hear you say it," he leered, knowing the exact reason why you didn't want to do anything with him right here, right now. "Because I'd have to be quiet," you muttered. "And why would that be such a challenge, my love?" he teased, tucking a lock of loose hair behind your ear.

"I don't think I'll be able to refrain from telling you just how brilliant you are. At racing, and other things," you giggled, snaking your arms around his neck. Judging by his reaction, you knew you had told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 

"Well, I guess that would be an added bonus to finding somewhere away from here," he winked, stepping away from you when footfalls approached you. "Carlos, race debrief in five," Charles said, practically stomping past.

"Alright, thanks," he nodded, waiting for Charles to round the corner at the end of the corridor. As soon as he was out of sight, Carlos lunged forward and captured your lips with his. His hands found their place on your waist, one of them slowly trailing down your body.

"Hey, patience," you said, tugging his hand away by his wrist. 

"Sorry, I just can't keep my hands off you," he said, forcing himself to walk away, because if he got his hands on you again, he wouldn't be able to get them off. As he backed away, he shot a wink towards you with a smug grin, "I'll see you later, baby,"

"I'll see you later, Carlos," you smiled, leaning back against the wall and giving yourself a minute to catch your breath. Carlos made you feel like a rowdy teenager all over again, and he never failed to surprise you with his antics. 

You were in for one hell of a night. You thought back to when he won in Silverstone last year and what happened after that, and there was no doubt in your mind that tonight was not going to be any different. 

You didn't really know where to go to wait for Carlos, so you just sat on the couch of the motor home, posted pictures of him on every social media platform known to man and tried to wipe the huge, goofy smile off your face.

There was pride still bubbling in your chest, and it was a tingle that you never wanted to shake off. You checked the time, seeing that they had been in the team debrief for about fifty minutes. It had been a while, and you wanted to stretch your legs.

The general public had gone, leaving the track staff and team workers in at the track. It left you to wander around the paddock freely, without reporters fishing for a quick headline, or people constantly surrounding you as you shuffled through, shoulder to shoulder.

You could walk past the motorhomes, as the lights lit up the path, the air feeling warm on your skin. You smiled at the few people that walked by, none of them stopping you on your travels around the paddock. 

Most of the teams and people were in their motorhomes, still going through their debriefs. After some time, you saw a stream of papaya walking out of the doors, and you figured there would soon be a river of scarlet to follow. 

"Hey Lando, great job out there, you smashed it," you smiled as the curly haired boy passed by, a huge grin plastered on his face. "Thanks, it was a great race," he nodded, "Hey, you free tonight? You look great," he smirked. 

"Don't let Carlos hear you ask that," you laughed, used to Lando constantly flirting with you. He had done it ever since you had met him, and Carlos knew it. "He's fine with it, he knows a pretty lady like you gets plenty of attention," he charmed.

"Are we talking about the same Carlos?" you raised an eyebrow at him, knowing how possessive Carlos could be at times. He liked to have you all to himself, and you wouldn't have it any other way.  "Why only have first place when you can have second too?" he continued, leaning against the wall behind him. "It's happened before, it can happen again," he said.

"OK Lando, I'm going to go and see if Carlos is ready now," you side-eyed him, brushing off his comment as a joke and hoping it was nothing more. 

Lando just chuckled at you, waving you away as you walked. More teams were filtering out of their motorhomes for the night as you strolled down the path, no sign of anything red. Just as you reached the outside of the Ferrari motorhome, a hand was held over your mouth as another hand positioned itself on your stomach, tugging you back.

You went to scream, but the hand muffled the sounds. You tried to kick away, hoping to catch the attention of a passerby. "Baby, don't struggle, it's just me," a voice whispered in your ear, and your struggling muscles instantly relaxed.

"The hell are you playing at?" you whisper shouted, spinning around to face him. He still had his race suit on, and his skin was still sticky from the champagne.

"I just needed to see you, needed to touch you," he murmured, pulling you as close as he could. "Wait until we get back, we've been over this," you sighed, trying to ignore the feeling of his hands roaming your figure.

"But I need you now, baby," he spat, pinning you against the wall in one swift movement. "Everyone will hear and anyone who walks past will see," you told him.

"As soon as the last few guys from ours leave, we're the only ones left," he explained to you.

"There are security cameras everywhere, Carlos," you told him, your eyes darting around the space surrounding you, checking for any sign of surveillance. "Nothing can see here, I checked," he smirked.

One of Carlos' hands braced on your waist, the other trailing over your hip bones. "Fuck it," you mumbled, pulling him in by his neck and passionately kissing him. "That's my girl," he breathed against your lips.

You realised that people had stopped wandering out of the track, and you poked your head around the corner to see if there was anyone there. Much to your delight, the path past all of the motorhomes and across the paddock was like a ghost town. 

Most of the lights around the circuit flicked off as the final staff left for the night, leaving you alone at the track. There was a rush of excitement surging through you, curious to do whatever it was that Carlos was so hell bent on doing out in the open, where anyone could potentially see.

No more words were exchanged as you nodded at him to give him the all clear, to give him permission for whatever he was wanting to do. He hungrily took your lips with his, not even giving you the chance to breathe.

It felt like you were in a stormy sea, only able to capture a small gasp of air every now and then, but the burn that lingered in your lungs was like cold air on a winters' day.

Carlos' hands slithered up the sides of your thighs, sneaking under the material of your dress. His touch left tingles in their wake as his fingers brushed the skin on your hips.

"Can I?" he asked, hooking his fingers into the thin side of your underwear. "Of course," you nodded, pulling at his neck to bring him back into a kiss. Once you had stepped out of the lace, it was kicked to the side and discarded.

His lips moved across your jaw and delicately down your neck, across your shoulder. "Unfortunately for the both of us, we need to keep this on, just in case anyone decides to ruin our fun," he smirked against your skin, tugging at the material at the waist of your dress, "I don't want anyone else seeing you the way I get to,"

Normally you'd be alarmed at the prospect of someone seeing, or catching you in the act, but you were too caught up in it to care. Too fuelled with desire to be bothered. Too needy for him to think.

His lips still roamed slowly down, his hand sneaking back under the skirt of your dress and dangerously close to you. His fingers teased the skin of your upper thighs, and the temptation to push yourself closer to him was nearly unbearable.

But then, a thought struck you. "Hey, tonight is about you, allow me, I think you deserve a reward, no?" you breathed, pulling his face within a centimetre of yours by grabbing his chin. Your other hand snaked down his chest, all the way down to where his race suit was rolled down.

Carlos grabbed your wrist, pinning it against the wall. "If it's about me, then it's about you too. Getting to see you squirm for me, getting to hear how much you need me is the best reward you could give me," he smugly grinned, sinking to his knees in front of you.

His lips placed feather light kisses up the insides of your thighs, flitting from one to the other. "Fucking hell," he groaned, seeing the effect he had on you. "It's that easy, huh?" he teased, still kissing the insides of your thighs. "You're just too good," you lightly chucked, a hint of desperation in your voice.

"Say it again, it sounded good," he told you as he pushed your knees further apart. 

"You are so fucking brilliant, I don't even- Fuck," you breathed out as he teased you with his tongue. He slowly circled your clit as you pushed your hips into him.

"Tell me baby, tell me how much you want me," he told you, lightly running his tongue over you. "I need you, Carlos, I don't think I can wait," you pleaded, and it was music to his ears. It was the fuel that kept him going.

Without further hesitation, he started lapping and sucking at all the right places. Those special spots that he had mapped out in his mind. You both held the dangerous assumption that there was not a single soul around that could hear or see what you were doing.

"Am I doing a good job?" he asked, not ceasing with his movements. With his every action, the fizz in your lower abdomen became closer and closer to bubbling over. "Fuck yes you are, please don't stop," you mewled, tangling your hand in his hair, pulling at his dark locks. 

You couldn't help but buck your hips towards him, desperate for more. Carlos let out a low chuckle, "So I'm that good, huh?" he teased, adoring the way you tugged gently at the strands of his hair. "You're a winner for a reason," you said, your back arching off of the wall. 

Tingles were slowly spreading across your body, and the ever more desperate moans you were letting out told Carlos everything he needed to know. "You close, baby?" he asked, half mocking, half serious. 

He could tell the answer of the question quite easily, your legs were starting to shake and your hands were slowing their movements in his hair. "Fuck yes, I-" you managed to get out, the pleasure hitting you in a wave that spread across your body.  

It was like electricity pulsing through your veins, and your legs were buckling underneath you. Carlos rose from his knees and captured your lips in a heated kiss, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. "You know what that is? That's the taste of victory, and I think it's pretty damn good," he told you, caressing your sides.

"You OK to keep going?" he asked, despite is desperation. Even if he needed you more than anything else right now, your comfort was still his top priority. "Mhm, I don't wanna stop," you told him, and that was enough for him. 

You pushed his race suit down his legs quickly, knowing just how much both of you needed it. "Jump," he instructed between kisses, hoisting you up as your legs locked around his waist. He held you against the wall as he guided himself into your entrance. 

"Shit you feel good," he groaned, burying his head into your neck as he rocked his hips into yours. His lips left purply-red splotches on your skin, and you could feel them forming. Every time he thrust into you, you both let out groans of pleasure as you came closer to release. 

"Oh my god you're good, so fucking amazing," you rambled, and your praises fuelled him on more. He started to thrust into you deeper and harder, and he touched that spot that made you see stars. 

"You're the best reward I have ever gotten," he spat through gritted teeth, trying to hold himself together. "You deserve it," you breathed, your thighs burning from being clasped around his waist for the length of time you had. 

"Carlos, I-," you fumbled, unable to form legible words as you felt the pressure in your stomach build up to an unbearable level. You didn't need words to tell him, he could feel the way your walls wrapped tightly around him. 

"Carlos, I'm going to-," you started, but you were silenced by Carlos smashing his lips against yours, "Me too," he groaned as his pace picked up, hungry for release. Both of your moans were muffled as the release of pressure made your vision black out. 

It was like ropes of energy shooting through your abdomen, as you cried out and threw your head back against the wall. Your nails scratched over the skin of his neck, leaving red streaks in their path as the skin turned raw. His hips slowed to a halt as you were both left, breathless and exhausted. 

"Are you OK to stand, or do you want me to hold you for a bit longer?" he asked, his eyes turning from hungry to soft. "I should be fine, you can put me down," you said, Carlos gently lowering you back down to the ground. 

Your legs were kind of numb, as you leant against the wall to catch your breath. "We're still going to get pissed, right?" you asked, not ready for your night to be over. Carlos pulled his race suit back over his hips and stood in front of you, staring at the hickeys he had left on your neck. 

"You're probably going to have to cover these up, but then again, I'd love for everyone to see what I get when I win," he smirked, his hands gripping your waist. 

"Then you're probably going to have to cover these up," you laughed, running your fingers over the red scratches on his neck. "Let people see, I don't mind," he laughed, ignoring the sting they left on his skin. 

"I don't know if I want people knowing what we get up to," you chuckled, leaning against him as you started to walk out from in between the motorhomes. "True, I don't want anyone imagining you like that, that's all for me," he said, gripping you tighter. 

"Tell that to Lando," you quipped, since you knew Carlos knew how flirtatious he was with you. "He's an exception," he winked, checking to see if there were any people around. A blush tinted your cheeks as you realised that Lando's comment from earlier might not have been a joke. 

A/N - It's been a week, I know, I'm sorry. I've been really busy, so think of this as a one week anniversary gift. But in all seriousness, it still doesn't feel real, and it makes Forza Ferrari-ing through the pain that little bit easier. That was the smoothest of operations, and could not be prouder of our chili 🌶💖

|masterlist|

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

"Why are the bosses doing so badly?" Because they were announced as the bosses in the first place. People naturally dislike favoritism, hype, or a subjective majority, even if they never really were the majority of all voters; it's not like a single person received more support than all the support for everyone else put together. Even the title of "boss" is already telling you, "these are the people you have to defeat."

The blog is also much bigger now than it was in the submission period, so all of the bosses do have more votes than their original, relatively small submission number... they just have even more votes against them. Meaning they probably weren't ONLY spammed (prob spammed somewhat) but their fans still don't eclipse the people voting against. For example, I'm not trying to dispute Damon's loss or make trouble whatsoever, just running the math on such a big number of votes for perspective: even with a very pitiful 13.5% in the poll, that's still 1,107+ votes at the time of writing. Which means Damon is losing with more votes than most competitors won with previously, and is losing with more or close to the votes that the other three polls are currently winning with. In fact, Damon is losing the most epic loss yet with more votes than the entire Stone v PJ poll rn, and the entire Tracy v Eddie poll isn't that far off either. And of the other three winners, only Selena actually has more votes than Damon's cringefail loss atm. Although Damon was the one dragged for submission spam, his current losing vote total surpassed his submission total by a much wider margin than the other bosses, so by that math he was actually the least misrepresented by spam. None of that is disputing his loss, just again offering perspective on the numbers because one poll is quite a bit larger than any others.

(To be clear I'm not at all saying any of the three long-haired men from Seattle or the main Blur would have won the whole thing without this boss fight setup, I don't think any of them would in the final polls, I'm just saying this setup made their losses super, super likely from early on IMO.)

Great statistics! I'll also add onto what you said about the blog's size, to put things into perspective: ever since submissions for this tournament opened, my following has more than doubled-- what seemed like an enormous amount of votes and warranted a bossfight title back in the day, would've meant nothing at all if I had as many followers as I do now.

In part due to the spamming, and in part due to the anonymous nature of most propaganda asks, it's proven risky to gauge how popular a musician actually is on this blog- even note count can be unreliable, such as how the Peter Steele Playgirl shoot is still my most reblogged propaganda piece, and yet he was voted out rather early. Same goes for Brian, Jarvis, and many others. In retrospect this tournament in particular seemed spectacularly incompatible with a bossfight format- just as the elimination format damaged the album tournament a fair bit.

[jrpneblog]

North End land in a Hornets nest

We were absolutely embarrassed by full time in this latest encounter of the "not my fault" Ryan Lowe saga. This time we conceded five at home to a Watford side who still sit below us in the league table. Yet this game could have been oh so different with North End on top for the first forty minutes or so. However from the minute Watford equalised, three minutes before the break, the game took a dramatic twist. Four more second half goals from the visitors left Deepdale echoing to the rattle of empty seats as thousands of home supporters made their way to the exits long before the final whistle. It was reminiscent of the QPR exit only much worse. Yes the players must take some responsibility but, in my opinion, the manager was once again, for the umpteenth time, out thought and out manoeuvred by his opposite number in terms of tactics and game management. It all amounted to an ultimately diabolical final home game before Xmas and left the home fans wondering were the club go from here.

North End made two changes from the side that won at Huddersfield on Tuesday night with Osmajic and McCann coming in for Evans and Holmes. Just how Duane Holmes is not one of the first names on the team sheet puzzles me but that is another story for another day. North End started well but there were some very early warning signs of what the visitors could do. Hamer in the Watford goal had a brilliant first half and saved from Storey and Potts, twice, in the early exchanges. At the other end a header went narrowly wide before Whatmough saved a certain goal with a goal line clearance. However North End got on top and took the lead just before the half hour after great work on the left by Millar led to the ball reaching Keane and the striker flicked it home. It was our eight shot in the opening half hour and we looked well on top. Three minutes from the break and the Hornets were level when a superb ball from the left found Bayo at the back post and the sides went in level.

No changes from Ryan Lowe at the break but an extraordinary kick off by North End spectacularly backfired on the home side. Seven players lined up on the half way line to the right of the centre spot. Brown played the ball back to Woodman from the kick off who lumped it up the right. However we lost possession and Watfords slick passing saw Martins fire past Woodman with just seventeen seconds of the second half gone. It was absolutely schoolboy stuff and North End never recovered from that moment. Potts had a chance well saved but soon after Kayembe fired home a slightly deflected shot to make it three as the boos started. The manager made four changes in one go and his tactical ineptitude once again left us exposed with the wing backs way too high up the pitch. With twenty minutes left and about half the crowd on their way home Kayembe made it four for Watford as North End looked absolutely clueless to do anything about it. Six minutes later Kone made it five for the visitors and by this time there were more in the Gentry Bar than there were inside Deepdale. It was a spectacular disintegration even by North End`s standards and left the Deepdale faithful with plenty to ponder over the next seven days.

North End had a decent week on the road last week. It was a bore draw at Norwich, fair enough, and a good win a Huddersfield albeit against a poor side. This, though, was right back to a fortnight ago against QPR and the Cardiff home game before that. Three wins and three draws in the last fifteen games is certain relegation form and that is just what North End have produced starting with the draw at Rotherham back in September. It plainly isn't good enough and what will ultimately lead to the managers departure is the performances at Deepdale, or should I say the lack of performances. Appointing Ryan Lowe was made on fair and reasonable assumptions and no-one is blaming anybody at Deepdale for that. However too many times in the managers tenure we have seen the team out thought tactically leading to some horrendous results. It wasnt wrong to appoint Lowe two years ago but it would certainly be wrong not to make a change now for the good of the club.

.

PRESTON 1-5 WATFORD

.

WOODMAN 6

STOREY 6 WHATMOUGH 7 LINDSAY 5

WHITEMAN 5

POTTS 6 McCANN 5 BROWNE 6 MILLAR 7

OSMAJIC 5 KEANE 7

.

Subs:

HUGHES 6

BRADY 6

HOLMES 6

EVANS 6

.

MOTM: Liam Millar

Attendance 14,389

Preston Fans 13,491 (93.76%).

[baiika]

//Silly hcs on what I think my muses' fave horror games would be. These are primarily computer-based bc I hate console gaming. Additionally, there's some potentially triggering content in the pictures alone, including body horror, gore, & corpses. Reader discretion is advised.

Blitz: The Price of Flesh (dev's tunglr)

TPoF is a really spectacular visnov. The premise is you're trafficked to one of three killers. There's ton of art, endings, customization, & some NSFW content if that's your thing, but it isn't for the faint of heart. I especially loved Celia's story. Otherwise, there's a ton of really great gore in Mason's story line.

Anyway I think Blitz would like it because of its fucked up sex elements <3 He seems depraved enough to enjoy the power dynamics & extensive dubcon.

Karin: Pumpkin Panic

Pumpkin Panic is a game I only started playing recently BUT it's like Stardew Valley on a bad shrooms trip. Like the art style alone is delicious. My only complaints about the game have been that I can't customize controls & the usage of certain Native American monsters I'm fairly certain we're not supposed to use in media, but idk the dev so I might be wrong?

Ordinarily, I'd chalk up the farming element to Momo, BUT seeing as the protag is being pursued by several monsters during gameplay, & is trynna escape the place because of the monsters, I think it fits Karin spectacularly.

Layla: Doki Doki Literature Club

This visnov is viral & has been out for ages so I don't feel like I need to extrapolate on it.

Anyway, Layla would initially be drawn to the cutesy premise, but then just wanna save everyone lol.

Momo: The Cat Lady

Ordinarily, I don't care for puzzle games since I'm not very good at them, but this game is one of my favorite artistic pieces to date, dabbling in suicide, death, monsters, & more.

This was actually really hard to decide on. Momo is artistic enough to enjoy a lot of the niche games I've played; Fatum Betula, Garage: Bad Dream Simulator, Squirrel Stapler... but The Cat Lady won out because I think Momo would relate to the protagonist since they share severe mental unwellness & a violent streak. Helps she's actually good at puzzles.

Nemu: The Mortuary Assistant

This is also a viral game. I think Markiplier picked it up or some shit & it got traction? I don't keep up with YTers. Anyway, you play as a mortician with a dark part, but demons are trying to possess the bodies, so you gotta exorcise 'em. This one isn't for the faint of heart either. The demons are pretty freaky but there's some mechanics that are potentially stomach-churning. BUT I'm a sucker for anything involving demons & the gameplay is genuinely stupendous with a ton of replayability.

Anyway, I use a ton of Christian iconography in Nemu, & the medical element would appeal to her.

Ryuuji: Dead by Daylight

Another I don't think needs extrapolation since it's so mainstream.

Anyway, I think Ryuuji would like the challenge of playing either as a killer or survivor.

[lexiwright]

Building Jealousy

Benny watts x reader

A/N- so hey first benny sorry. This was requested by Anonymous with the second prompt. This is my first in a while so I'm a bit rust but I really hope it's well received and yeah.

Also a side note that isn't import but when writing this Ive been listening to ”You” by petit biscuit. I'm not sure why but any time I've been reading anything to do with benny or writing him this is my go to song. But yes thanks for reading and ya.

Word count - 1720

Warnings - none

Prompt 2 “your jealous aren't you.”

You weren’t amazing at chess. You knew that. Next to people like Beth Harmon and Benny watts you were well aware of the fact. But it was an interesting game which you did good enough when you put your mind to it that you had entered a few tournaments over the years just for the adrenaline rush. You’ve managed to build up to a good enough level that you were state champion for a while but it only lasted a little while.

You’ve known benny a while. And Beth too. You were closer with benny and for a time you thought maybe the pair of yous could become something more. But as soon as Beth came into the frame you lost his interest and you went back to just admiring him without him returning any ounce of feelings to you.

You met Beth in Mexico. Before the great loss against Borgov. You barely got past the second round and lost in the third but hey you weren’t to bothered. But you had noticed how often Beth appeared alone and you decided to see if she wanted company. She seemed to take to you fairly well and yous quickly became friends. After her mum died you comforted her for a little while before you both had to go home. You understood she needed a bit of time and you went to New York for a little. You’d called up benny in advance who wasn’t doing much that weekend so offered his living room.

Accepting the offer and hoping to get to spend some more time with the man you arrived outside his house at a quarter to midnight. Shattered out of your mind from travel. You came in and greeted him as an old friend before you sat down at his table that displayed his board and had a look to see what he was playing.

It took you a second before you realised he’d been playing Beths last game with borgov. It’s angered you a little bit you tried to not care.

“How was the trip Y/N? “ asked benny as he rounded the table to the kitchen for some glasses.

“Nothing special. How’ve you been keeping?” You yawned and watched as he poured you a glass of milk.

“Ah, you know. Not a lot to do around here. Just waiting for the next tournament as always. I hear you met with Beth Harmon. What do you think of her?” He asked. Placing the glasses in the microwave for you both.

“Of course. She seemed nice. We got along well enough. Shame about her mum though but her playing is beyond amazing.” You accepted the glass of warm milk as you spoke and failed to notice as he tensed at your praise of the redhead.

He pushed his hair back and sat down in front of you and watched for a second as you took a sip of your milk. Studying your face with admiration.

Leaning forward, elbows on the table, he leaned his face on hand, two fingers tapping his cheek. Something you noticed he did when he was in thought. You tossed him a quizzical look before questioning him.

“What?”

He took a breathe and held it for a second before speaking in a gentle tone. “You look tired. Are you okay? “

You chuckled at him. Thinking he was joking. “Well, Benny I have just got off a plane so of course, I’m tired.”

But he stopped you. “No. It’s more than that.” You didn’t know what to say and just stared at him confused. He cleared his throat and moved back and gestured at the board. Still set up with Beth's last match. And spoke, “care for a few speed games?”

You rolled your eyes. You rarely win against him at speed chess. You know he was only doing this to show off. But you indulged him and let him flex his bored muscles. Yous played about ten rounds, winning two and drawing one while the king in a loose black striped shirt won 7. And you were sure he was going easy on you but you didn’t mind. It’s still fun.

Once he was sure you knew who was the best player and had finished your warm milk he suggested time for bed. Which you gladly accepted. He left you with the blow-up but knew you were too stubborn to let him do it.

You said goodnight and melted into one of the comfy seats rather than taking the blow-up bed and found yourself involuntarily drifting to sleep where you sat.

.

.

.

You woke with a start as you were shaken awake. You were on the plane and the air hostess was shaking you awake. Clipping in before landing you looked out the window. You were landing in New York again. Only this time you weren’t going to stay at Benny's. Beth was there now.

It had been a few weeks or so since you last stayed. You smiled at the memory of being woken up by a laughing Benny cause you hadn’t made it into bed last time.

You were staying at a hotel a while from Bennys. There was a small tournament that you thought would be fun to go too.

After leaving New York last time you’d called up Beth to see how she was doing. She had Harry beltik with her so at least she wasn’t alone.

You ended up taking for hours. Going over matches verbally for the fun of it and discussing favourite theory’s. This turned into a habit every few days and yous both seemed to get along well.

She called when Harry decided to leave. You could tell she was upset but didn’t want to push it too much. She called before her match with Benny. After the losing rounds of speed chess and you told her not to worry. And she called when she beat him. And then the next day when she told you she was going to New York with him.

You were happy for then although a little sad you wouldn’t get to spend time with him but you understood why.

You had got there a few days earlier so when you heard cleo was in town you opted to spend some time with her.

It had been a week or so and you had been invited to benny's along with Cleo and some boys. You went and was happy to catch up with Beth and Cleo.

You didn’t notice a dismayed benny who was disappointed your attention wasn’t on him.

He thought he could win you over by playing Beth in speed chess but even then he lost spectacularly. You sat out for the games. Not feeling like losing today. But when you and Cleo applauded beths wins. You failed to see just how livid he was that she impressed you more.

He went to bed sourly that night. Tossing and turning. Unable to get the beaming pride for Beth he saw on your face as you clapped her and not him.

Your third match of the tournament had been the next day. Normally if you think your gonna struggle you call benny and get some advice while you listen to him speak. His voice soothing you from nerves even if you end up loosing. But he knew that the match was today and was subtly waiting for the phone to ring. However when it did this time Beth picked up and you felt that you’d annoyed benny enough over the years so you decided to talk to Beth instead.

She was fine with this. Beth is proud of being needed. However, she ( unlike you) noticed the way benny drummed his fingers on the counter and stared at her as she said the first few words “Oh, hello Y/N...”

she noticed as his pupils dilated and the drumming stopped.

He had expected her to hand him the phone after that but when she didn’t he couldn’t understand why. And when Beth started talking about the game you were about to play he could feel as something boiled in him. He was who you needed. Not Beth. Yes, Beth was better than him but you needed him. Benny like being able to give you that little bit of ease before a scary match.

He waited a little while longer in case Beth gave him the phone. Till he realised she wasn’t going too.

“Is that Y/N?” He questioned harshly.

Beth just nodded and continued the conversation.

Benny couldn’t take it. And marched over to stand in front of Beth. “What does she want?” He asked. Even though he knew.

“Well she’s got her match today and she said she was nervous,” Beth said deadpanning.

The look on Benny watts faces told Beth something was afoot. Then she realised and gave him a smug look as she said her next words slow and loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“Your jealous aren’t you?”

He froze for a moment. Realising what she said was right.

He barely registered as Beth spoke to you again apologizing “sorry Y/N. I’ve got a green ogre here that I’m going to pass you too. Good luck for the match. “

She preset to phone into his hand and moved for him to sit in her seat.

He held the phone to his ear to hear your voice and he frowned.

“Benny what’s wrong”

He paused thinking before speaking with an almost whiny tone.

“ you think you can drop me cause I was beaten by Beth Harmon at speed chess, no, uh uh. I'm here to stay Y/N L/N and I won’t sit back and let you go off to someone else. No. Your mine got it.”

You were speechless. You hadn’t realised benny felt like thins. He realised what he said.

“ well eh you know, your not my property that’s not what I mean. I just.”

He took a deep breath and spoke with confidence. “ I need you Y/N. You're like the queen to my king. I feel I’m nothing without you. So please don’t brush me off for someone better.”

You smiled over the phone and he could hear it in your voice. “ I’d never brush you off benny.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

[comradekatara]

here's your excuse to tell about arnook and pakku if you still want to, you're welcome. there isn't much discussion about these two for some reason. i will devour everything and anything you have to say, your blog is a blessing

lol this message is 7 months old (and i received multiple others like it) in response to something i offhandedly mentioned in a tag on a post i can no longer find, but yeah the gist of it is i think about the northern water tribe a lot. we only spend 3 episodes there (the first season is more about getting there than it is about exploring the nwt itself; it’s the journey not the destination or whatever), but those 3 episodes are some of the most compelling in the entire show, at least to me. of course, i’m biased, because katara & sokka are my favorite characters (shhh don’t tell aang & toph), not to mention yue is my favorite minor character (shhh don’t tell mai & ty lee), and these episodes allow them to shine in really special ways. so i often find myself contemplating what would happen after the war ends, in terms of katara & sokka’s relationship to arnook, pakku, yue, and the tribe as a whole. 

as you probably know, i am a big proponent of #fuck them comics (to be clear, because the themes presented are antithetical to what draws me to the show in the first place, not because the art style is ugly. i repeat, it is not because the art style is hideous and makes sokka look like a buffonish cheshire cat. obviously), and book 2 of lok is just.... a whole mess, so i choose not to consider these instances of – ahem – paratext canon. i am well aware that colonialism and industrialization are forces that cannot simply be stopped by the efforts of a couple of angry [indigenous] kids, only wait. katara literally did that already. time and time again. i find it hard to believe that she would allow colonialism in her southern water tribe. so excuse me if i’m not buying it! 

i think that instead, if katara and sokka are going to be in conflict with the northern water tribe, it would be at the source. as de facto world leaders (katara as (future) chief of the swt, sokka as .... holistic problem-solver), they would have to visit the northern water tribe eventually, as much as they would be reluctant to return to this site of injustice and trauma. not to mention that aang and zuko both experienced great traumas here as well (aang becoming the ocean spirit and causing mass destruction against his own volition, zuko nearly dying and watching zhao die) so upon their visit they too would be provoked to confront their demons. since sokka would naturally have reservations about the man, i think they would first approach arnook wrt striking an alliance between nations, since it would (ostensibly) no longer be in their best interest to remain isolationist (i doubt they’d be changing their minds on that without the avatar’s influence, since they didn’t even send aid to the south during the entirety of the war. no shade tho lol).

realistically, i don’t think that katara being allowed to train with pakku would herald some overnight feminist shift. certain women being granted exceptions is not productive feminism, and it’s certainly not equality. upon returning to the north pole for the first time since the war’s end, katara would witness this and be outraged. unlike her first visit, she would no longer have any compunctions about “causing a scene” (not that she had many to begin with), and i like to think know to be true that she would incite feminist revolution. because, that’s what she does. i really don’t buy that pakku read his bell hooks and finally won his way into kanna’s heart, because, while most of the time i laud the nuanced representation of gender in atla, that shit was written by men! (by “that shit” i specifically mean the scene in “sozin’s comet: the old masters” when katara congratulates him for marrying her gran gran. bc uhhhhh.....fuck no.) even if pakku had traveled all the way to the south pole, found kanna, proposed to her, and she accepted out of some resigned loneliness (an extremely bleak thought), the second her babies (katara, sokka, hakoda) return home she is dumping his raggedy ass, and he is returning to the north pole in shame (when asked, he says he helped with the rebuilding effort, but his home is here. no one questions it). so pakku proves kind of a roadblock for katara, as well as pretty much all the other men in the tribe, who make it their mission to passive-aggressively demean and belittle her. but the women of the nwt band together, and many of them become katara’s first waterbending pupils, returning to the south pole with her after katara is thoroughly satisfied with the progressive legislative change she enacted. 

as for sokka, his unfinished business with the north is more internal. i think arnook would really respect sokka, constantly showering him in paternal affection and placing in him unconditional (and (what sokka considers to be) unearned) trust. which really, really bothers sokka, because in his eyes, arnook gave him one (1) job, and he failed spectacularly. no matter that there was nothing sokka could have done differently, that it was zhao’s action, and yue’s choice (not that she really had a choice, but still); in “the swamp” we see that sokka carries that guilt of not having protected yue, and arnook, a father figure much like hakoda in many ways, tasked sokka with protecting her, similar to how hakoda told sokka it was his mission to protect katara. we know that is not a request sokka takes lightly. yue sacrificed herself because sokka could not save her, period, end of story. at least in his eyes. sokka has a debilitating fear of disappointing father figures, despite father figures historically adoring sokka, so his relationship with arnook would be.....extremely fraught, to say the least. especially if, on the offchance hahn survived (doubtful. he probably drowned in frozen water immediately), yue’s bitter ex-fiance is in the picture, and steamed as hell that he was forced to give up his opportunity to become the future chief (which begs the question, who does become chief? does arnook have another viable heir?). and of course, there’s sokka’s relationship with yue herself, which, as i have mentioned before (on many an occasion) is not (necessarily) the relationship one has to a dead loved one. we see aang talk to yue in the show, and we have no reason to believe that sokka wouldn’t find a way to communicate with her again. but you know what? that’s for another time... 

as for aang and zuko (respectively), their relationship to the northern water tribe has less to with the people and culture there, and more about the traumatic events that transpired. i think setting foot in the north pole (which is ultimately unavoidable, unfortunately) would be pretty triggering for both of them. aang becoming a vessel for mass violence, and literally everything that happens to zuko in the “siege of the north” episodes, are extremely traumatic events that would resurface in their psyches once they returned there. (i think sokka would also apologize to zuko for voting to leave him for dead, even though zuko would be like “don’t be stupid there’s no need to apologize for that.”) ultimately, i think the northern water tribe—its politics, cultural & spiritual worldbuilding, characters, and all the nuances in between—is really compelling and ripe for further exploration. but no i don’t think abt this a lot why do u ask

[kali-tmblr]

The Opposites: Contrasts in the Lives of Jaune and Oscar

There are those who wish Oscar had never been introduced and that Ozpin had moved into Jaune's mind instead. Children, please. While Jaune is going to be a great leader in the end, he would last maybe five seconds under the burden of the Oz collective before his mind crumbled from panic caused by self-doubt. He's got both the wrong psychological profile and the wrong literary profile for that particular fate.

Let's deal with the psychology first. Every mind (I say "mind" in this case instead of "person" because the process is largely subconscious) has to decide where to place their trust. Do they trust their inner self? The outside world? Both? Or neither? That choice causes some profound differences down the line.

Jaune doesn't trust himself, but instead places his trust in the outside world. He is quick to think that he isn't good enough and to accept other people's assessment of him, both negative (Cardin) and positive (Pyrrha). He is quick to form external connections, while his own self-confidence grows with a glacial slowness. When we first meet him he is also prey to adopting false images of what he should and should not be, even when those images are nonsensical. In the beginning he frequently feels inadequate, and goes to great lengths to hide those feelings of inadequacy.

Oscar trusts himself, but is skeptical about the outside world. He doesn't question that he is good enough to do the extraordinary task he has been given, instead he questions the extraordinary sacrifice he will have to make in order to do it. Will the deed be worth the price he must pay? He takes his time in forming opinions about the outside world, even when that "outside world" includes a voice literally inside his own head, and frequently complains that the world doesn't make sense. He freely admits when he feels scared, weak, and helpless; and asks others for tips on how to deal with those feelings of inadequacy.

These internal differences cause some very big behavioral differences. Jaune initially rejects lessons from Pyrrha because it conflicts with the false image of himself that he put up to conceal his feelings of inadequacy, while Oscar doesn't have a problem with accepting lessons from others. Jaune knows that he's not ready to be the great hero when we first meet him, and broods over being "the loveable idiot stuck in the tree". Oscar knows that he's not ready to be the great hero when we first meet him, accepts it, and finds what he can do right now. Instead of brooding he carries messages, lights fires, and cooks meals. Stick him up somewhere high and he becomes the team spotter.

In regard to the Oz collective, Jaune's inner feelings of uncertainty would have overwhelmed him when confronted with another presence inside his own head. His mind would have broken, and while Oz would have had free use of his body, that wasn't what the God of Light wanted from this particular arrangement. He wanted Oz to have a partner, to "never be alone". Oscar's self-confidence means he is able to accommodate having another being inside his head without his ego crumbling, and if necessary to stand up to Oz inside his mind the same way he stood up to Hazel at Haven.

(As for the question of whose mind is going to absorb whom, I posted a three-part essay on why I think Ozpin wants Oscar's mind to absorb the Oz collective, and is actively working towards that end.)

But we don't have to use fancy psychological terms. The difference between the two young men can also be summed up in literary terms. They fit two different definitions of the term "hero". Jaune is a hero in the Modern mold, while Oscar is a hero in the Classical mold of the Greeks and Romans.

As a Modern hero Jaune has to overcome self-doubt to accomplish his goal. As a Classical hero Oscar must wrestle with his Fate. There's a big difference between the two. A Modern hero is like the character in a modern video game. You work hard, fail, learn, win, and probably get the girl. A Classical hero is like the character in a primitive 1970s era videogame. Surviving isn't an option. You are not getting out of here alive. Your Fate is foretold, your death is known the moment you step on the battlefield. All that matters is how high a score you leave on the leaderboard. But when that score goes up, you will still be dead, and you have to accept that fact.

Jaune would not have been able to accept the eventual dissolution or at least radical reconstruction of his mind required of the heir to the Oz collective, but Jaune is instead willing to sacrifice his life for others. "If I die buying them time, then it's worth it. They're the ones that matter." Oscar is willing to accept the potential literal sacrifice of his self as long as it serves a Higher Purpose. "These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left." Jaune's great fear is that he won't be good enough to save others. Oscar's great fear is that his inevitable sacrifice will serve no purpose. "We signed up to save the world, not just delay the inevitable."

In terms of other characters in the show, Jaune is most like Weiss and Oscar is most like Ruby. Both Jaune and Weiss start out with massive insecurity problems hidden behind false selves. Like Qrow and Winter, the psychological journey Jaune and Weiss must make is remarkably similar in spite of the fact that they started on opposite sides of the social ladder (I'll post separately on them later), and one of the great ironies of the show is going to be how they were so caught up in projecting false images of themselves at first that they took forever to realize this fact. Likewise, both Oscar and Ruby share a rural background and an easy acceptance of the idea of sacrificing themselves to serve a Higher Purpose.

At the end of their growth, if they're still alive and nothing has gone spectacularly wrong, Jaune is going to be a mountain, both physically and in terms of his self-image. His slowly accumulated, hard-won self-confidence is going to be as solid as basalt. That steady sense of self and ability to figure out how to win the battle in front of him will make him an empathetic leader who is revered by his troops. Meanwhile Oscar will be looking at the big picture and figuring out how to win the war. Together they will make a formidable opponent few would want to take on.