#he is face to face with of all his incredible failures and shortcomings and how pathetic and miserable and stupid and cringe and fail he is

[iratusmus]

this is fiona/scourge. to me. they get married and divorced all the time, both for funsies and also whenever they get into a fight/make up. (important note: they swap last names since in mobius the woman takes the man's last name and in moebius i choose to believe that the man takes the woman's last name). and also whenever theyre mad at each other theyll call each other their exwife/husband.

like. theyve been fighting over something stupid for the past few days and are on divorce round 3 and they run into sonic and tails and everybody starts beating the snot out of each other as is usual. something happens idk sonic takes like a potshot at scourge and fionas like “get away from my ex!!” and sonics like “.....ex-boyfriend????” and shes like “what? no. ex-husband.” and tails is like “YOU GUYS GOT MARRIED??????” and sonics like “YOU GUYS GOT DIVORCED??????” and fiona & scourge respond “yeah? and?”

so sonic pauses for a half second to digest this new information, and then says “wait. ok. so if you guys are divorced. why the heck are you still working together.” and fiona responds “um. because we're dating??? ??? youre so stupid omg” without missing a beat while scourge is obnoxiously scoffing/rolling his eyes in the background like this is incredibly obvious information and sonic just. stares for a good few moments. and then says “actually nevermind i dont care anymore i dont want to know anything more about your weirdass relationship”

[beneathashadytree]

CLUMSY LOVE - LEON DOMPTEUR X READER

Warnings : mentions of injuries, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : This was born after seeing @leonscape ‘s posts, reminding me of how criminally underrated this man is in the fandom. His kind of safe, warm love is right up my alley, because I can’t imagine anything more comforting.

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

Leon Dompteur was a prince in all but blood. He had the refined poise and power over every room he walked into, the indelible charm that pulled everyone in, the wicked spirit that thrummed underneath his skin and fought to make it out, and the bravery to serve one’s country as one would lay his own life down.

But one thing he was not even remotely princely in, was fine motor skills. With big calloused hands, long and thick fingers, and hardened palms over the years, so used to handling roughness and sharpness, it made perfect sense that he would find it difficult to handle the smaller things that required immense concentration and deftness.

That, however, did not necessarily stop him from trying. For what it’s worth, it seemed that he was hellbent on changing that one shortcoming of his, constantly trying to do things his hands frankly weren’t meant to do.

Many a time did the kitchen staff stumble upon the fourth prince trying to pipe saccharine icing ontop of the cookies Yves had just pulled out of the oven, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he tried to scribble sugar lines. In the end, they always looked wonky, but Yves helplessly sighed every time and patted him on the back for trying.

Sometimes, Jin would be nursing a bottle of expensive wine in melancholy, a despondent look on his face, and Leon would then offer to take his paperwork and finish it up for him. Though he tried his best to imitate his eldest brother’s manner of writing, he simply wasn’t made for the tiny, neat calligraphy that Jin often resorted to, and his attempts at doing so only made the writing all the more illegible.

And though Licht was adamant to always hide his countless injuries from his brothers, Leon’s keen eye always caught sight of at least a few unhealed wounds littering his pale skin. It was up to him as his caring older brother to offer to patch up his bloodied forearms (something that was always met with a bit of push and pull), but he probably did more harm than good, what with all the loose tiny bandages and squiggly lines of ointment on the infinitely small wounds.

Still, nothing seemed to deter him from trying, even if he knew that—realistically speaking—his chances of success were incredibly low. Leon best expressed himself through actions that bared his big heart, and he wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. If anything, his failures only made him more determined to try and share his brothers’ burdens even more.

And that little quirk of his also extended to his beloved, of course. After all, in his eyes, there wasn’t a single person in the world more worthy of his attention and care. To others, it was a great shame for a prince to supposedly “debase himself by serving another”, but the mere idea made his blood boil. If anything, he—a prince made of nothing—would give the world to them should they show a sliver of interest in it.

In a less dramatic manner, he resorted to doing little things, like that he did on one particularly pleasant spring manner. The weather was too good to pass up on a nice stroll in the gardens with his lover. Said stroll slowly crumbled with the temptation of laziness, and soon turned into lazing around in the freshly cut grass in the midday sun.

Their hand was brushing through his ebony locks, twirling strands between their fingers as their other hand flipped page after page of their book. With all the duties planted on their shoulders, they had little time left to read and relax like this. Thankfully, that meant that they paid Leon no mind as he fiddled with something.

A few minutes passed, maybe half an hour (they did have a habit of losing track of time while reading), and he turned to face them in their lap. His bright smile was almost as blinding as the afternoon sun above, and when he tugged at their sleeve, they didn’t know what to expect—but it certainly wasn’t whatever it was that he presented them with.

Curiously inspecting it for a beat or two, they didn’t know what to call it. After all, Leon was never good with his hands, and that was common knowledge by now. Anything he made was practically unrecognizable without an introduction.

“That’s a…?”

He took their discontinued sentence as an invitation to elaborate. “A ring made out of flowers.” He grinned even wider as he pointed at it. “See. All daisies.”

“Well, they’re not very… sturdy, I think,” they laughed out, turning it around in their fingers. “It’s the thought that counts though. So thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Leon shook his head, before he took their hand gracefully in his, slipping on the makeshift ring with less than half of that grace. A quick prayer was sent above to whoever was listening, hoping that it would not fall apart—and, much to his relief, it stayed in place, wonky daises with half-broken stems and all.

“Is this a proposal?” They jokingly nudged him with their newly-adorned ring finger, not expecting the soft look he returned them with, nor the gentle kiss he pressed against their knuckles.

“A place-holder, until I find you the perfect ring.”

And though he was never quite good with small things or fine skills, he clearly was well-versed in the art of getting their heart to pound furiously against their ribcage, threatening to spill into his hands; for him to have and hold. Only he—and no one else—had the ability to make them fall head over heels, over and over again, slowly and then all at once, just like it were the first time.

Taglist: —

Sign up for my taglist here!

[kociokwiki]

what are dew and clay’s relationships with VOS once it’s active? VOS gives me vibes that she wouldn’t like them very much but who knows

Dew saw VOS' success as his own and fixated on it quite a bit. Kept telling them how it - and Dew herself, by extension - is going to be the one to solve the big problem once and for all. How it's the perfect project, how they didn't need anyone else, how Dew's name would go down in history, forever recorded as The One Who Did It, saved this world and all its creatures from the painful cycle. You can probably see where VOS got that god complex from… Despite the constant praise, it was quite obvious (to others, at least) she didn't treat VOS as a separate being with his own thoughts and emotions - he was just a monument to Dew's own vanity. At first, she visited the puppet chamber very often, basking in the glory of his creation. As time went on and it became clear the solution won't be found this way, he visited less and less often, unable to face his failure.

VOS would never admit to themself how much they actually disliked Dew. It knew he was the reason why its structure, albeit "beautiful", was an unstable mess; why the puppet's design was so ridiculously excessive it made it difficult to move around without breaking something. The pressure to perform perfectly. At the same time, Dew kept on saying how incredible VOS was, how they're going to make everything happy, and it loved the praise. Her self-worth quickly became dependant on what Dew said; he convinced himself he couldn't hate someone so good to him, really, it's just not right. Dew's gradually decreasing interest in the project was.. a pretty intense time for VOS.

Clay didn't interact with VOS quite as much. The living proof of her inability to oppose Dew's selfish ideas, whom she almost pitied for the existence they condemned it to. She lived in their city, sure, so it wasn't possible to avoid. But talking to him face to face felt different somehow. Whenever they spoke, she tried to keep it as brief and "professional" as possible.

VOS was also aware of Clay's involvement (or lack thereof) in its structural shortcomings. Clay didn't sing the praises of them on her own - VOS told itself she just couldn't appreciate its greatness. The urge to keep their interactions as short as possible was mutual.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Hihi!

Hey, I was just wondering. What if it turned out that it wasn't as simple as having all 3 pieces of the Triforce? What if there was more to it? What if, even after having gotten them all, the DorfMisers were unable to use the pieces of Wisdom & Courage until they exemplified those qualities to the same degree that he did Power naturally?

Heck, what if the same was true of the wish they were supposed to get from it? Like, they can't because they're imbalanced.

Meaning that the very thing they were so obsessed with obtaining was barred from them specifically because of that very obsession.

A bit like how the Mirror of Erised hid the Philosopher Stone from Voldemort. But Harry just outright got it because he didn't actually care about the Philosopher's Stone. He just wanted it to keep it out of Voldemort's hands.

So, the Husbanditos don't even really get the extra power boosts that Zelda & Link might've from their parts.

Oooo I like this take! Explains very much why everything goes fuckin' wonky when he gets the Triforce, even if the wish doesn't necessarily require any mayhem or destruction (Like controlling Hyrule in HW. Why does the land become corrupt when he wishes for dominion over Hyrule? just make it so he's king and be done. The fact that his chakras are not in alignment would explain this.)

***********************************************************************

This scenario would present a deeply ironic and philosophical twist on the Ganondorfs’ pursuit of the Triforce. Each incarnation of Ganondorf seeks to obtain all three pieces of the Triforce to gain ultimate power and fulfill their ambitions, yet their obsession with power becomes the very thing that bars them from unlocking the full potential of Wisdom and Courage. This imbalance forces them to face their shortcomings and confront the truth: raw power alone is not enough.

Here’s how each Ganondorf and Demise might react to this revelation:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Wind Waker Ganondorf is already a more introspective version of his character. He speaks of past regret and lost opportunities, and while he still seeks to conquer, his motivations are tempered with the bitter lessons of failure. Upon learning that the Triforce’s full power is locked from him because he lacks the balance of Wisdom and Courage, this would likely strike a deep chord of irony and self-reflection.

He might brood over it, realizing that his obsession with power is the very thing preventing him from fulfilling his ultimate goal. This would be incredibly frustrating, yet it would also be a moment of clarity. He’s already shown the capacity for regret, and this revelation might push him toward acknowledging his flaws.

Scene: Ganondorf stands in the ruined hall where the Triforce hovers above him. His eyes narrow as he extends his hand toward it. But nothing happens.

"Why? Why will you not bend to me?" His voice rises in frustration as he pounds his fist into the ground. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage glow faintly but remain distant, out of his grasp.

Realization dawns as he understands the cruel truth. The Triforce won’t bow to him because he lacks balance. A grim smile spreads across his face, bitter with irony.

"The gods mock me," he mutters. "Even now, they withhold what is rightfully mine. Not for lack of strength, but for lack of their so-called virtues. Wisdom… Courage. Two things I never needed to take what I wanted."

But in the quiet of the broken hall, his words feel hollow. For a moment, the weariness of his endless struggle overtakes him. He would likely spend time in deep reflection after this, wondering if he has pursued the wrong path all along.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf is arrogant, domineering, and entirely consumed by his desire for power. The idea that the Triforce is beyond his reach because he lacks qualities like Wisdom and Courage would fill him with rage. He would see this as an insult, a cruel trick of fate, and likely lash out violently at the idea that the gods would put such limitations on something he has fought so hard to obtain.

His obsession would likely lead him to redouble his efforts, perhaps even going to dangerous lengths to try and force his way into unlocking the full Triforce, ignoring the lesson it’s trying to teach him. His pride would blind him to any form of introspection.

Scene: Ganondorf stands before the Triforce, his lips twisted in a snarl as he grips the piece of Power tightly. He stretches out his hand to claim the other two pieces, but nothing happens.

"What?!" he bellows, his fury echoing through the Sacred Realm. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage shimmer mockingly in front of him, just out of reach.

"I have them all!" he screams, slamming his fist into the ground, the very earth trembling beneath his rage. "Why do they not obey me?"

He tries again and again, but no matter how much power he exerts, the pieces refuse to align. His frustration mounts, and his body crackles with dark energy as he lashes out, destroying everything around him in a fit of uncontrollable anger.

In his rage, he would refuse to accept the truth. To him, this would be a cruel joke, a betrayal by the gods, and he would stop at nothing to break the Triforce’s will, unable to comprehend that the barrier is not one of force but of balance.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Twilight Princess Ganondorf is cold, calculating, and deeply cunning. Upon realizing that the Triforce remains locked from him because of his obsession with power, his reaction would be more measured than others. He wouldn’t lash out in blind rage, but rather, he would seethe internally, trying to understand how to work around this limitation.

His pride would be wounded, but he would immediately begin plotting. He wouldn’t see this as a personal failing, but rather as another challenge to overcome. He would try to find a way to exemplify Wisdom and Courage without fully understanding them—perhaps manipulating others to embody those traits for him.

Scene: Ganondorf stands before the assembled Triforce, his eyes narrowed in thought. He extends his hand toward it, but nothing happens. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage hover, just out of his reach, glowing faintly.

He lowers his hand, staring at the pieces with cold calculation. "So this is how it is," he murmurs, his voice laced with icy disdain. "The gods believe me unworthy."

He turns away from the Triforce, his cape swirling behind him as he begins to pace. "Wisdom… Courage… These are the keys to unlocking you?" He smirks darkly, his mind already turning. "If that is what it takes, then I will find a way to gain them. One does not need to possess such things to use them."

He would begin a methodical search for a way to exploit Wisdom and Courage, perhaps trying to manipulate others who hold those qualities, intending to twist them to his own advantage.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is charismatic and brimming with bravado, but underneath that confidence lies the same hunger for power as his other incarnations. Upon learning that the Triforce cannot be used because he lacks balance, he would likely be frustrated but intrigued. He’s cunning enough to realize this as a puzzle, a challenge to be solved.

He would approach it with a sense of determination rather than anger, convinced that there’s a way for him to gain the necessary qualities or at least fake them enough to unlock the full Triforce. However, his arrogance might blind him to the real meaning behind the balance required.

Scene: Ganondorf’s hand hovers over the Triforce. He expects its power to surge into him, but when it doesn’t, his eyes narrow. The pieces of Wisdom and Courage remain separate, their glow taunting him.

"Ah," he mutters, a smirk creeping across his face. "So it’s not just strength that you seek."

He lowers his hand, folding his arms across his chest as he gazes at the Triforce with a new sense of respect. "You demand balance, do you?" His smile widens, but it’s filled with dark amusement. "Very well. I shall play your game. You think I lack Wisdom and Courage? I will show you otherwise."

Unlike his other incarnations, Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would approach this as a puzzle, confident that he can either develop or fake the necessary qualities. He wouldn’t see it as a personal failing, but as a new challenge to conquer.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf would likely be enraged at the discovery that the Triforce is locked from him due to his imbalance. However, he’s also cunning and understands manipulation. While his immediate reaction would be anger, he would quickly shift to trying to manipulate or force Wisdom and Courage, either within himself or from others, to gain the full power he seeks.

He might even contemplate whether he could take those traits from others, perhaps eyeing Zelda and Link as means to his ends.

Scene: Ganondorf’s hand hovers above the Triforce, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. But the pieces remain separate, shimmering with a quiet defiance.

His lips curl into a snarl as he lowers his hand, a surge of anger coursing through him. "Why do you resist me?" he growls, his voice reverberating through the chamber.

The realization dawns slowly, and his fury is palpable. "Wisdom… Courage… You mock me with your petty requirements!" His fist clenches as dark energy crackles around him.

But then, his anger shifts, his mind already working. "Very well," he mutters, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "If that is what you demand, I will find a way to take it. Wisdom… Courage… These are just tools like any other. And tools can be bent to my will."

He would likely begin a new plot, aiming to acquire Wisdom and Courage, not through personal growth, but by taking them from others—seeing Zelda and Link as obstacles that he could overcome.

Demise

Reaction: Demise, as the embodiment of power and hatred, would react with pure fury. To him, the idea that something as intangible as Wisdom or Courage could prevent him from achieving his goal would be infuriating. His immediate response would be violence and rage, striking out at anything and everything around him.

Unlike the others, Demise would not seek to learn or manipulate these qualities. He would see the very idea of Wisdom and Courage as weaknesses, refusing to accept that they have any value.

Scene: Demise stands before the Triforce, his burning eyes locked onto the glowing pieces. He reaches out, expecting to feel their power flow into him. But they do not move.

His face twists into a snarl, and with a bellow of rage, he slams his fist into the ground, the very earth cracking beneath his fury. "You DARE deny me?!" His voice is thunderous, filled with wrath.

But no matter how much rage he unleashes, the Triforce remains out of his reach. He howls in fury, refusing to accept that something as “weak” as Wisdom or Courage could be the cause.

[gibblegabber]

i wrote most of this a month ago but might as well spill my personal nonsense regarding kick on his 14TH ANNIVERSARY WHHHHHHHH

nothing interesting it’s truly like a diary entry

i’ve been keeping to myself while i wind down from another hyperfixation with KB:SD, because it has to come to an end, because there’s very few people left in my life who were there in the fandom while it aired, because i get so fucking depressed when i think about it.

how do i describe this. Kick reminds me that i’m alive. he ALSO reminds me that i’m a failure. he’s the reason i finished art school and also (part of) the reason i stopped pursuing art as a career. the show’s run was the best time of my life and at the same time i was dealing with an overwhelming amount of trauma.

and i packed ALL of that into this silly 6.5/10 rated cartoon. why??? because it just happened to be THERE when I was going thru some shit?? sometimes i think “this could have been any cartoon, the timing is what mattered” and other times i’m like no…the adventures we had in mellowbrook were genuinely incredible and if it were any other fandom, i wouldn’t have met the same amazing people!!! do you know how thankful i am to have Kachiimi and Misha in my life still??? REALLY FUCKING THANKFUL. i don’t deserve them in the least!! they’ve known me at my worst and happened to also SEE me at my worst in person and they’re still my friends and i love them very much, i hope they know that.

and if anyone’s still following me that knew me during the KB years, or was friends with me during that time… 1.) i’m sorry. i was crazy LMAO and 2.) just know you made the whole experience so so awesome :) i appreciated so much that the fandom was a tight knit group of people, no drama, just a great place to be when my life was falling apart around me.

yea if i psychoanalyzed this whole thing i wouldn’t like the answer. but. it doesn’t change how much Kick means to me, and how much he’ll always mean to me!!

it had always been a bucket list thing of mine to be the number 1 fan of something at some point. ever since i was like nine years old i was like “man that’d be cool if it happened”. never in a million years would i have guessed that it would be this. but in a weird way Kick was exactly who i needed at that time. someone whose failures were just his fuel for success. someone who didn’t let his shortcomings stop him from achieving his goals. someone who kept going even if the world was against him. looking back it’s really no surprise that i got so attached.

obviously i’m far from the number 1 fan position now. who knows if i ever really was; i only knew a fraction of the fandom that called me the “queen of the KB fandom”, and Sandro had called me the number 1 fan at one point so i just took it all to heart. i would argue that Aisha took that position when school and jobs and life started consuming my life more than fandom did. or well, all of this is a moot point when you consider Jackie who is definitely 100% his number 1 fan LOL. but wow, what a time. we were so lucky to interact with the crew as much as we did.

it doesn’t seem like much but it really made me feel like i could do anything. if Kick had gotten a third season you KNOW i would’ve stopped at NOTHING to be on the team in some way shape or form. i would’ve flown out to LA in an instant and not looked back. despite everything. i would’ve done it.

kinda sucks considering uhhhh THINGS that got revealed about the director years later, so in the same vein i’m very happy that Kick did not get a season 3. but when the show ended something in me died, or i came to terms with something, idk what it was. something like: i knew i’d never feel the same way about a cartoon again so i didn’t bother trying. i stopped drawing almost entirely for 10 years.

aaaand it’s true. over a decade and i never came close to the level of obsession i had with Kick, and never really wanted to either. THEN i got slapped in the face with IZ and well…let that be a long and cheesy post for march 30th or something. :P and as much fun as it’s been and continues to be, it’s a DIFFERENT sort of experience from KB. it can’t compare. maybe in 10 years i’ll look back on IZ friends and fandom times and reminisce fondly on them too.

KB:SD is stuck where it was. if that makes any sense. there’s a lot in the show that i don’t think modern day fandom would take kindly to. there’s a lot of crack shipping and shenanigans we got up to back then that isn’t okay now. (god… okay i don’t miss that part LOL. i cringe painfully at a lot of it, but i DO miss when people understood the fucking difference between fiction and reality. it was a different time for sure.) it just is what it is.

and that’s okay. i’m gonna let it go, again, and i’ll be back on and off. it hurts. it hurts every time this happens but that’s okay because Kick taught us to live till it hurts. :) 🤘🏼✨

[duckymcdoorknob]

Happy late valentine's day! I would like to participate your event ( つ´∀｀)つ may I order a box with wrapping paper? also with dark chocolate (oikawa) in oval shape! And I'd like oreo's for the filling ╰(´꒳`)╯ thank youuuu ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

Hello!!!

Happy very late valentines day LMAO

I have such a good idea for this!!

I hope you enjoy!!

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑤𝑎𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 ❤︎

CW BELOW THE CUT: Spoilers for season 2!

The final stand… the most tension-filled moment of the game was finally here. Despite the silence that filled the gym, the pounding of Oikawa’s heart helped to replace the ringing in his ears. He was so close. Victory was close enough to taste, and he knew it was coming.

Except… it didn’t.

The absence of sound in the gym was undone by the repeated bouncing of the ball that he had just failed to save.

Truth be told, Tooru never realized how truly incredible silence was. He never realized it until he craved it so… Because the silence in the gym? It was replaced by the cheers of the crowd, for his opponent.

Sejoh’s Captain laid face down on the harsh linoleum of the gym floor. It was all his fault… they had come SO far, and yet he let the ball slip right through his fingers when it mattered most. He couldn’t face his boys… not after he let them down like that. He stood up carefully, legs shaking from the intense emotions he felt, and rushed into the locker room to grab his things, then out the back doors.

The frigid autumn air nipped at his bare legs and arms. Shit. He hadn’t expected it to be so cold tonight. He thought he would’ve been warm from the game. He thought wrong.

Oikawa searched for anywhere to sit: a bench, a chair, a stairwell, a curb, anywhere. But, as luck would screw him over, he did not. So, the setter hugged his knees to his chest and slid down the outside wall of the gymnasium.

And then? There was you. You had seen the play unfold. You had seen your life-long best friend’s reaction to his own shortcoming. Pushing through the deluge of screaming fans, you rushed outside after him.“Oikawa!”

Slamming into the doors and forcing them open, you hastily searched the illy-lit parking lot. You didn’t see anything, so you rushed into the chilly open air. “OIKAWA!” You shouted, using your hands to project your desperate calls.

By the grace of whatever god was up there, you heard the despaired hitch of your best friend’s breath. Your head quickly flew to your right, only for your eyes to meet the worst image you had ever seen.

In a lightless corner, Oikawa sat with his knees huddled up to his chest, shivering quite harshly as he fought obvious tears.

“Oh god, there you are!” You hissed as you ran up to him. When you reached out to him, he violently jerked away.

“Not now, (Y/N).” He spat.

You blinked as you took in his snappy tone and blunt words. “I’m sorry?”

“I said not now!” He yelled into the night, sighing out a very visible breath.

“I- damnit. Hang on, honey.” You mumbled, taking the blanket you were wearing in the gym off of your shoulders and draping it over his own. You sat down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tooru, look at me.”

Sejoh’s Captain turned to face you, biting down harshly on his lip.

“You did your best, sweetheart.” You whispered, gently pulling him into a hug.

The brown-haired male’s eyes widened, then flooded with months of unshed tears. He put his forehead down flat on your shoulder, allowing himself to finally break down.

Oikawa’s loud sobs echoed through the night. They were more than just tears from a loss. Tooru had lost to his sworn enemy, a team that had fallen in the past. He had lost his final chance to get to nationals, not only for himself, but for his boys too. “P-Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ve got you, ‘Kawa. I’ve got you.” You whispered, putting a secure hand on the back of his head.

“I’m… I’m such a freaking failure.” He whimpered, accompanied by a few sniffles.

“No the hell you aren’t.” You replied softly, holding onto him as tight as possible, “You fought your ass off to be here. I know it’s so disappointing to lose this far in, but you absolutely deserved to be here. You deserve to move on and face Shiratorizawa and play at nationals.”

“O-Only winners pl-ay at na-a-tionals.” The brunette managed through his lamentation.

“Then I’m not sure why you aren’t moving on. All of our lives you’ve been a winner, Tooru. I’ve seen you work so tirelessly on improving everything, and I know you just want to make your dad proud. A loss here doesn’t mean your volleyball career is over.”

You weren’t sure if the words helped or hurt, but they sure as hell made your best friend cry much harder. You held onto him securely, gently rubbing in between his shoulder blades with your thumb. “I’ll never let you go.” You muttered, resting your head atop of his own. “And if it’s any consolation, I think you kicked ass today.”

As the cold air nipped against you, the loud cries of your best friend slowly turned into soft sniffles. “T-Thank you.” Oikawa whispered, sitting up to look at you.

You brought your hand up to cup his face and wipe his tears. Sejoh’s Captain nuzzled into the touch, face very much stained with streaks proving his inner thoughts. “You’re so welcome, Tooru. You know how much I hate to see you like this…”

Oikawa leaned on his side to cuddle up on your shoulder, “And you know how much I hate showing emotions like this.” He mumbled, closing his eyes in an attempt to rest.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment. “It’s too cold to sleep out here, ‘Kawa. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

The brown-haired male stood up, took your hand, and begrudgingly walked to your car. He settled down in the back seat, sitting quite dejectedly. As soon as you turned the car on, the low hum of the engine seemed to lull him further.

While adjusting the rear view, you move it downward to look at your best friend’s sleeping state. You smiled upon finally seeing him at peace: face relaxed, mouth agape with a small trickle leaking from the corner of it, eyebrows unfurrowed and emotionless.

“You’ve done well, Tooru.” You whispered, moving the mirror back, “Sleep easy.”

❣︎𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒’𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡❣︎

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[luuurien]

Viagra Boys - Cave World

(Dance Punk, Indie Rock, New Rave)

Viagra Boys' third album is an absolutely dreadful listen. As they try to satirize alt-right conspiracism and contemporary indulgences, they lay everything on so thick and make it impossible to be interested in any of these songs. Listening to Sebastian Murphy scream talking points at you doesn't feel clever or funny: it's incredibly draining and makes it impossible for Cave World to be anything but a complete disaster.

½

My god, was this unpleasant. Look, I've never been the biggest fan of Viagra Boys' whole shtick: their comedic and in-your-face satirization of ultra-macho masculinity on last year's Welfare Jazz was about as irritating as listening to your friend's half-drunk conservative boyfriend talk for 40 minutes straight, and they've never been sharp enough songwriters to make their edgy songwriting stick with a good hook or catchy melody - I'm not sure if I'll ever understand what attracts people to them even in the slightest. But they've always had a good song here or there, where their intense instrumentals mesh well with subtler and heartier songwriting, tracks like Secret Canine Agent or Creatures that make for some of the best in their discography; it's not like they've never been able to make a good song in the past. What stuns me about Cave World, then, is just how much of a failure it is on every level: Sebastian Murphy as a performer is irritating and often flat-out unpleasant to listen to, the instrumentals range from decent to one-dimension and cruddy, and the songwriting is some of the worst I've seen in years. There is little that is charismatic or redeemable about Cave World, its attempts at satirizing the alt-right so weak and unclever that it's more akin to scrolling through a nerdy Reddit comment section than anything else. I cannot stand listening to Cave World in its entirety again. The problem with Cave World's songwriting isn't just that it's bad: it's that it's so upfront and takes so much presence in the music that its shortcomings are impossible to avoid. When Sebastian Murphy is screaming in his rough, scratchy voice about how "things would play out much different / Back in the time that we were apes" on Troglodyte or gasping with theatrical drama about vaccine conspiracies on Creepy Crawlers, his one-dimensional songwriting is better fit for a bland late night show comedy skit, so unwitty and lacking in depth that I can't imagine anyone not in on the joke being able to latch onto anything Viagra Boys are talking about here. It's also a bit bothersome to me how uninteresting a muse they find in the wild world of the alt-right: sure, it's a dangerous community whose surreal and childish views about the world have caused real-life harm in the past, they deserve all the shame in the world, but they're not interesting to sing about in the slightest. We all know toxic masculinity is bad, Murphy singing "I'm a big boy, baby, and I need something makes a dude feel real" doesn't say anything new or interesting about it; it's insufferable watching him give the most surface-level comedic impression of vaccine conspiracists on Creepy Crawlers as he name-drops adrenochrome and microchips - will these songs even be worth talking about in a year? Five years? Ten years? Nothing about Cave World feels like it was designed for longevity, the kind of album you send to your friends to say "isn't it wild they made a song called Return to Monke?" and forget about it the morning after. Instrumentally they're nothing to write home about either: they've got energy, I guess, but each song is so long and repetitive that it gets grating unfathomably quick. The two tracks I most enjoyed off the album, Baby Criminal and Ain't No Thief, go for speedier and harsher sounds that push Viagra Boys to the max and bring out some more developed songwriting from the band, but otherwise Cave World is filled with songs that either barely move past their initial groove or stick to a more midtempo sound that drags like a slug treading its way through an oil spill. Punk Rock Loser's limp guitars and basic drum groove go on for an agonizing four minutes, one of the sleepiest and nondescript indie rock songs in years, and with the following blunder of Creepy Crawlers and mushy centerpiece The Cognitive Trade-Off Hypothesis with its shaky falsettos and lifeless instrumentation, it's hard to call Cave World engaging on even the most basic musical aspects. It's also their cleanest sounding record to date, which oddly ends up a detriment to the album as it loses that grit that at least made for some interesting textural qualities on Welfare Jazz and their debut, the underwritten ADD and toothless Return to Monke so polished that Viagra Boys lose any sense of personality and wit in their instrumentals, Cave World never able to go any deeper than surface level. I can't for the life of me understand where the appeal of Cave World lies in the slightest: isn't there more than enough energetic, punky indie rock out there that isn't this unbearable? Cave World did not grow on me once on repeat listens; it only got more abrasive and frustrating. When piss-poor songwriting, half-decent production, and nauseating vocal performances combine into the sludgy, meme-laden mess that is Cave World, there's next to nothing I can say about it apart from how much I never want to step foot near this album again. It's boring, lacks any unique perspective on any of the issues it talks about, and is unable to bring anything more than surface-level jabs at ideas and ideologies the general public already has a distaste for. Punk is an upfront genre, but it's also a smart genre: its best artists know how to balance political rhetoric and straightforward narratives with songwriting that is energetic and personable, tackling real-world issues through their music with musical dexterity and lyrical wryness. Viagra Boys is not one of those bands, and Cave World is the absolute epitome of why that is the case. It is an obnoxious, loathsome listen that makes your 11-year old neighbor who just discovered IFunny for the first time look like a comedic genius. If there are any positives to Cave World, is that it pinpoints exactly all of my issues with Viagra Boys in one slimy, dreadful package.

[dangerous-disposition]

On Tragedy vs. Bad Endings

[Image ID: user @frostyfrogz​ replied to your post “my mag171 #thots: I fully agree with. I love jonmartin I want nothing but the best for them. I know my answer today was an obvious twisting of dialogue but its just frustrating sometimes because it seems like people dont understand some sort of tragedy will indeed happen. I have never and will never suggest that something will happen to Jon and Martin’s relationship I’ve just been saying the shows not going to end well no matter what.]

So I have a lot of thoughts about this very subject, and too much for the replies on my post, so allow me to try to articulate what I mean, and what a lot of us mean when we say “it does not make sense for either Jon or Martin to turn evil in the end,” even in a show that has been advertised from day one as a tragedy.

First of all, no one thinks this is going to end happy. The few who do are usually unaware that this show is billed as a tragedy, and are quick to be corrected. I didn’t know it was a tragedy until I was on season 3 and someone told me. It’s overall just best to assume that the OP knows it’s not going to be a happy ending, because “reminding” people or “explaining” to people that the ending is going to be sad is a fast way from people to get annoyed and defensive.

Anyway! It appears, above all, that people have either fundamentally different ideas of what a tragedy is or accomplishes, or that people have a fundamentally flawed understanding of tragedy and it’s place as a narrative device/theme.

My thoughts are that tragedies hurt, and tragedies can be devastating, but they have to have a message and they should not be cruel to the audience.

A cruel ending would involve leading the audience to believe one thing for the entire book, show, movie, podcast, what have you, just to rip it away at the last minute like a big “fuck you” to the audience. Those sorts of endings are inherently mocking of the audience, and ultimately disrespectful. The only people in the audience that “benefit” from this sort of writing are the cynics who spent the entire show talking down to everyone for seeing the silver lining in the impending tragedy, even if, up until the finale, the silver lining was always part of the narrative. Like it took actual twisting and outright ignoring of the narrative as it’s written to be cynical and sceptical all the way until the end.

That is, plain and simple, bad writing. Jonny Sims is not a bad writer.

Now tragedies often have “happy endings,” they just also have an element of sadness colouring that ending. A good, tragic ending should, in my opinion, feel bittersweet. We should see it coming, we should know it will hurt, but it should be for the greater good and should further the narrative that has been told from the beginning.

I said a few weeks ago that a tragic ending without a silver lining is just torture porn, and I stand by it.

Now, if Jon or Martin are revealed to be Actually Evil in the end, where is the silver lining in that? What narrative has even possibly hinted at this outcome, without putting on cynic glasses?

Every single plot point and plot “twist” in TMA has been clearly detailed, never relegated to pure subtext that you would have to comb through a single interraction and analyzing the tone in which it was said (which could easily be actor shortcomings or error). They have always been obvious, at least in hindsight. This is why, for a while, I subscribed to the Web!Martin theory, but due to recent episodes I’m more inclined to believe those “obvious things” were red herrings.

Throughout The Magnus Archives, the common theme in every. Single. Season finale is that “we are stronger together.” What do I mean by that? Well, here’s the general idea:

Season 1: The one time someone gets separated by the group for any significant length of time, like I mean the main group, she gets killed by the NotThem and replaced.

Season 2: Jon is alone, due to his intense paranoia and his reluctance to reach out for help. This leads to a disastrous series of events that leaves him a suspect of murder, and his friends even more doubtful of his character.

Season 3: In the episode just before they deal with the Unknowing, Jon literally says that isolation was his downfall, and he was going to work on trusting his friends more. When they got separated during the Unknowing, things went to shit. When they found each other again, they were able to rally and they “succeeded.” Conversely, they are also teamed up with Melanie and Martin who hung back to bring down Elias. They were successful, working as teams on separate objectives, etc.

Season 4: This is, by far, their most “successful” feats while simultaneously their least. The whole season was again showing the downfalls of isolation. In the season finale, Jon has Basira and Daisy’s help, and while bolstering himself with their strength, and the strength in his conviction to save Martin to be with Martin, Jon was successful in stopping Peter Lukas and saving Martin. Conversely, Martin and Jon’s isolation in Scotland could be, theoretically, implicated in how Jonah Magnus was able to succeed in the end like that.

Now evidence of this same train of thought in season 5? Jon literally says it: Gertrude would not have done well in this post-apocalyptic world, because she had no friendships, no anchors, no reason to stay human. And then Jon says “you are my reason” to Martin.

It is in the text of the story that the only way to succeed, or win, or survive, is through trust, friendship, and love. One of the main factors in so many of the statements, on why the statement givers succumbed to the fear in their story, for even a moment, had to do with very little personal ties to anyone else. Many of the statements feature isolation and, as Jon put it, “lack of corroboration.” On the flipside, many of the statements that ended with the statement giver escaping successfully, and surviving long enough to be reached out to for follow-up questions, involved them having close personal ties to someone else that kept them safe, somehow. Like the girl from Italy; remembering her mom saved her from the Lonely. Or, more ridiculously, the guy and his dog that escaped the spiral because he was so distracted by his dog and had to be home for dinner. In MAG170, it was Martin’s love for Jon, and his trust in the love from Jon and his friends, that saved him from the Lonely again. Jon’s incredible amount of love, and respect, and trust in his friends is what’s kept him from becoming another Jared Hopworth or Jude Perry. In MAG155, Cost of Living, he expresses open disgust in how that particular avatar of The End justified her actions, killing and killing and killing again because she viewed herself as more worthy of life than that person. In that same episode, he talks of not blinding himself because he hopes to use his powers to protect his friends, that without them they’re too vulnerable. Honestly, this is the same reason Peter Lukas is unsuccessful, because Martin only helped him at all to protect his friends. The fact that he didn’t see his failure coming was hilarious.

Gerry said in Family Business that there is no “entities of love”, and that might be true, but love and trust is literally what saves you from fear. How many of us deal with things that are scary in our lives, if only because we have some level of trust in the people or things around us. How many of us have been brought out of a panic attack by someone we love and trust?

So all of this has been presented to us, over and over and over again, which is what I, and others, mean when we say “it does not make sense for one of them to be evil.” That’s what we mean when we say “it would be Bad Writing to make one of them evil in the end.” The entire show has driven home the message that we need love, we need personal connections to survive fear. To rip that away from the main characters at the last minute and call it “tragedy” would be a spit in the face of every single listener who took the story at face value, without picking it apart and reading lines out of context. And Jonny Sims and Alex J. Newall have both said they hate lazy writing.

Now, none of the JonMartin fans I follow are deluding themselves to think this show will have a happy ending outside of very self-indulgent fix-it au fanfics.

The way I see this going down is that Jon and Martin will figure out how to put the world back to the way it was, but Jon will not be able to be part of the new world with Martin. That’s the tragedy; that the world gets saved, and Jon helps save it, but he doesn’t get to benefit from his efforts in any way. The tragedy is Jon loves Martin so much, and they deserve their happy ending, but they don’t get it. But, they still saved the world so others can have their happy endings.

Idk about you, but between the “Jon turns evil in the end” and “Jon stays good and sacrifices himself to save the world” endings, only one of them has me in tears right now as I type this out, and it’s not the former.

I’m not against sad endings,I’m against bad endings that punish the audience for having even a bittersweet hope. I’m against sad endings that are just sad for the sake of being sad, with zero pay-off or reason to happen, especially when those endings throw out 5 years of hard work.

And hey, I might just be forced to eat my words in the end, but not before I fly all the way to England and make Jonny Sims eat a knuckle sandwich.

This was a lot longer than I meant for it to be, but I just have a lot of feelings.

[blazedgraysons]

You're No Good - Ch. 2

C.J. Bennett is an overly ambitious student who dreams of shadowing her favorite author, Eli Jennings. The only thing standing in her way: Grayson Dolan.

warnings: this is a rough draft of a series i never finished. i'm posting the finished chapters before leaving this account. 🤍

part 1

If American Lit 1102 was C.J.’s personal hell, her job could at least be considered her own reprieve.

Sunnyside Vintage is an old shop off of Sunset, having been open for the last 30 years. It wasn’t the nicest of thrift stores — the clothes always have a weird mothball smell and everything is old - and not in the trendy way.  C.J. loves it. The windows are huge, letting California sunlight wash the stucco walls gold, and the mannequins are always dressed straight out of the 70’s. The pay isn’t always great, but C.J. is allowed to take whatever she wants more than makes up for it in her eyes.

“I just don’t understand. I mean, Stevens has praised me this entire semester. She even told me personally he’s never had a student write as well as me nor pick up on the work as fast as I have. Wouldn’t that be qualities you’d want in an intern, Bea? Even Grayson Dolan would’ve been a better pick.” C.J. turns to her boss, angrily folding flared jeans.

Another reason C.J. loves Sunnyside —  her boss, Beatrice “Bea” Walker. Once a glitzy soap star of the ’50’s, she retired with her husband and opened Sunnyside in the late 80’s. Despite being in her late-70s, she still holds on to the same glamour and charm that made her a household name a century prior.

“Maybe there was another reason. It could be something other then your application.” She croaks, lifting a pumpkin to place next to a costumed mannequin. As halloween rapidly approaches, the store was starting to transform to fit the fall season — hoping to draw in customers to purchase unique costumes for the holiday.

Before she can move to help Bea, the doors chime, signaling an entrance. Walking through with seemingly-glowing skin and a symphonic smile was Alexi, C.J.’s best friend and roommate. It’s hard to miss Alexi whenever she walks into a room — from her bleached-blue hair to eclectic style, she’s never been afraid to follow her own path, something C.J. has always admired. She walks straight to C.J., wrapping her in a loving embrace

“Are you okay? James told me what happened.” Alexi leaves an arm around her, and while C.J. knows it’s supposed to be comforting; all she can think about is how much she wants Alexi to leave. It’s one thing to rant to her elderly boss, someone who would love her in spite of her shortcomings and faults. But to know her own friend group has already heard about her misfortune, sending over someone to comfort and soothe, it was all just a little too pitiful for her to handle.

“Theta’s are throwing a party tonight. It’ll be the perfect pick-me-up, and you can forget all about Evans Jensen-“

“Eli Jennings” C.J. corrects.

“Whoever” Alexi rolls her eyes at the interruption, “is missing out on your incredible talent because of an idiotic professor’s incompetence. Everyone’s going and it won’t be the same without you, C.”

“As much as I would love that, Lex, I really just want to be alone tonight. Shitty beer, cheap Indian food, a sad movie so I don’t have to think about how these past four years have been a waste.”

“Not a waste, first of all. Look, I know that you’ve had this whole plan for your life since you popped out the womb, but shit happens, things change. This isn’t a failure, just think of it as a temporary setback. Plus, when life gives you lemons, you…” She trails off, waiting for C.J. to finish.

“Make lemonade?” She sighs.

“Use it to chase tequila.” Alexi giggles.

“I would go, but I have to close. Right, Bea?"

"Don't use me as an excuse. You should go, maybe find a boy to take home." Alexi makes a face at Beatrice's statement and C.J.'s face heats up.

“You’re going - no more buts. Wear something cute. Something that maybe doesn’t make if look like you were alive for Vietnam.” Alexi’s already leaving, kissing Beatrice lightly on the cheek on her way out.

This was how C.J. found herself standing outside the Theta Lambda  frat house, October air chilling her through her jacket. She shifts her weight between her feet, surveying the small group around her. Alexi talks animatedly on the phone, asking for whoever to meet them out front.

A random person bumps into her, forcing her to spill the contents of her purse onto the dewey grass. C.J. groans, bending down to pick everything up while mentally thinking to herself all of the other things she could be doing right now.

A pair of dirty air forces steps in front of C.J. and she slowly looks up at the girl standing in front of her. She’s pretty, stunning actually. C.J. recognizes her immediately. Channing Williams - social chair of Rho Xi sorority and the key to all the best parties on campus. Dressed in a black romper and red velvet jacket, she’s everything C.J. isn’t and a quiet twinge of jealousy plucks her heart. ‘I bet she’s never lost out on an internship.’ she thinks bitterly.

“Sorry, do you know anyone?”  Channing asks, voice soft and sweet with a clipboard in hand. C.J. looks at Alexi, waiting to hear her answer.

“Not really? I mean we know people, but we aren’t going to be on your clipboard or anything so if you could just let us slide through, I’m sure there’s someone here who could like vouch for us or something?” C.J. wants to slap her — not only did she drag her out in below-freezing weather, but she couldn’t even guarantee them a way inside.

“Well this is a greek-only party so unless you know anyone….” Channing trails off, not openly wanting to kick them out in front of so many people.

“That means no GDI’s.” C.J. didn’t even notice the miniature-sized freshman standing besides Channing. She clearly looks annoyed at the intrusion, keeping her from inside where everyone else is to deal with their little group. C.J. briefly wonders if the upturned stare is a requirement for Rho Xi or if that’s was just especially reserved for her.

“Geed’s?” Alexi repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Goddamn independents. Y’know, not greek-affiliated.” At this point, C.J. is ready to call the whole night and retire in her bed when she see’s someone appear in between Channing.

“They’re cool, Chan. They’re with me.” Micayla Zhao enters, covered in glitter, sweat and what C.J. is almost sure to be a line of salt from a body shot. C.J. has always considered Micayla the only cool Rho Xi, having had multiple classes with her over the years. Micayla fit right in with their group: smart, beautiful and a wicked sense of humor.

Channing nods, seeming bored and just wanting to get back inside with everyone else. She does a quick finger tap with Micayla (sacred Rho Xi bullshit is what Alexi always calls it) and moving along the line.

“Are your sisters always that charming?” Micayla rolls her eyes, grabbing C.J. to move them through the house to the backyard. A huge bonfire is set up in the middle with a canopy near by for the designated drinking spot. She watches as Micayla confidently moves through the crowd, stopping from time to time to say hey to friends and classmates on the way.

“Most of the time. Look, they’re just possessive over tradition and the Rho-Theta party has always been major exclusive, Channing’s been fighting to make it open to outsiders.” Micayla yells over the thumping bass.

“Yeah, I’m sure they love all the GDI’s.”  C.J. exaggerates her voice, pinching her nose to capture the nasally, valley accent Channing is almost famous for. Micayla stops, and had C.J. not been paying attention, she would’ve ran into her.

“Dude, you’re kind of being a bitch right now. Look, I get your bummed about your internship, but Channing wouldn't have let you in if she didn't want to. Would you rather be getting drunk, in your apartment alone?”

“Yeah, actually.” Micayla stares at C.J. for a second, looking like she’s about to bitch her out. As if Alexi can sense the fight forming, she grabs Micayla by the arm.

“Let’s go get a drink, you look like you need a drink in you.” They both walk towards the house, Alexi mouthing ‘Be Nice’ over her shoulder before disappearing completely. C.J. exhales, counting to 3 in her head before walking over to where drinks are set up.She fills up her solo cup, watching as the fizzy liquid moves closer and closer to the top.  Before she can take a sip, someone bumps into her spilling half the drink over the side.

“Hey, watch it!” A thick Jersey accent exclaims, and C.J. groans, wondering if this night could get any worse.

“Bennett?”

Grayson appears in front of her, denim jacket over a black t-shirt and black jeans. She takes note of the dark spot growing on the front of his shirt, from where she spilt her drink.

“What’re you doing here?”

She simply shrugs, refilling the missing contents of her cup.“I didn’t know parties were your scene. I always imagined in your free time you’re in like a dark room, crying alone to Sylvia Plath novels.”

“Nice to know you think of me out of class, Grayson” C.J. takes a sip of her beer. She moves to walk away, hoping he would take it as an end of conversation.

"How'd you get in? Isn't this like Rho's only?" He asks, following her to the edge of the bonfire. She looks at him, watching as the light frames the features of his face.

"Couldn't I say the same about you? You're not a Theta." He just stares at her intensely until she relents, "Micayla Zhao got me in. Y'know her?"

"We had history together sophomore year. She helped me cheat on the midterms."

C.J. laughs shortly. "Sounds like her."

Grayson opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, Grayson, don’t you have someone else to bother? Someone who, y’know, actually likes you?” If that comment bothered him, he didn’t show it, continuing talking to her as if they haven’t pissed each other off continuously for the past four years.

“What do you think about Michael Eichler getting the internship spot?”  He asks. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she didn’t get the spot, now she has to sit and rub salt in the wound with her worst enemy.

“What’s there to think about? He got it, I didn’t. Fucking sucks.” He laughs, holding up his own drink.

“Cheers to that.” They both clink cups, and C.J. briefly wonders if the universe is still laughing at her.

"You know, that spot should've gone to one of us." He muses, watching the partygoers continue to stumble around them. He doesn't say anything after that, and she bites.

"Why should it have gone to one of us?"

"Well, think about it. We're both the top of our class, and I know for a fact Stevens has submitted your writing to collegiate magazines. There's no fucking way Michael fucking Eichler should've got that spot over one of us." C.J. pauses. She had known that Stevens appreciated her writing, but not enough to submit it anywhere. If what Grayson was saying was true, why hadn't she gotten the apprenticeship?

"Nothing I can really do about it now. He got the spot, I didn't. I guess I can become a second rate author now." She takes another sip, and Grayson snorts unattractively.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, Bennett. If Stevens like you, I'm sure there's another author dumb enough to want to publish your work too." She glares at him.

"And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"As if you actually would've wanted to become friends with me."

"Oh yeah, that's what I do in between my Sylvia Plath crying sessions. Desperately wish that Grayson Dolan would become my best friend." Sarcasm drips off every word and he looks at her before taking another long sip of his drink.

“You know you’re actually kinda cool, Bennett. When you’re not trying to bite my head off in the middle of lecture”

“Maybe if you didn’t have such shitty takes, I wouldn’t want too.” Whatever retort Grayson was planning falls from his lips when Channing appears by his side, tucking herself underneath his arm.

"Hey, Gray. I got you another drink." Two Coronas hang from her manicured hand, and he whispers inaudibly to her, giggling between the two of them. C.J. begins to feel awkward, and coughs uncomfortably.

“Oh, you’re the GDI from earlier,” Channing looks up at her half-lidded, dark eyelashes framing red-tinged brown eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Channing shifts her weight, biting her lip and feeling like an intruder. "I didn't know you two knew each other?" C.J. supplies, feeling desperate for conversation

"Gray and I had math together freshman year, "They both stare at each other awkwardly, silent tension as they wait for the other to speak.

“So, I’m gonna go." She speaks.

“No, you don’t have to." Channing is already turned back to Grayson, looking like she wouldn't mind C.J.'s exit.

“No it’s fine” Neither Grayson nor Channing seem to protest anymore, and C.J. turns back to see her friends looking at her, both amused and curious at her interaction with the duo. She begins to walk towards them, feet and heart sinking with every step, not feeling any better about her current predicament.

“Hey Bennett,” She turns around to face Grayson. “Think about what I said. About the internship stuff” She just nods, and leaves the pair. The moment she reaches her initial group, Alexi pulls her towards them.

“You and Dolan were just talking and it didn't end in a screaming match. That’s new. What did he want?”

“Nothing. Just typical Grayson Dolan bullshit."Alexi looks like she doesn't believe her, and frankly C.J. doesn't believe herself. She thinks back to what Grayson said, about how they were the only real competition for the apprenticeship. Whatever he meant by that could be handled tomorrow.

"C’mon. Didn’t  you say something earlier today about tequila shots?” She asks

“Atta, girl. That’s what I’m talking about.” She lets Alexi drag her away, sparing one last look at Grayson before entering the fraternity house.

[techmomma]

YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU ASK FOR

Because OKAY

OKAY

LISTEN

HERE IS WHAT CANONICALLY HAPPENS IN ZORA’S DOMAIN. You get close. Zoras keep telling you that Prince Sidon is looking for a Hylian’s aid. NOTE. PRINCE SIDON. Not King Dorephan. Not Zora’s Domain. Prince Sidon. We’re just gonna keep that in our little brains for now.

We meet Sidon at the bridge. He is very polite, and sends us on our eay. I need to review that scene but for now it’s not terribly important. We get to Zora’s Domain, and we meet the regular people, who know it wasn’t Link’s fault, and the old geezers, who got a nasty case of misplaced trauma guilt goin’ on maskin’ as racism, hate him. But they are also ADAMANTLY turning away hylian aid with disgust. At least one of them is a Councilman, Muzu. Keep this in your brains too

We meet King Dorephan, and it’s apparent that he was not in on Sidon’s plan to get aid from a Hylian. He seems aware of it, “the Hylian the prince was looking for,” something like that, but either is hiding his participation, or was not participating at all. If Dorephan was sending out for help, we don’t see it. My guess is with the reservoir flooding, he had enough on his hands just trying to put out fires as they sprang up.

This was Sidon’s plan. Sidon’s plan was to get the aid of a hylian, who are more immune to electricity, and he was doing this against the opinions of the elders, and at least one councilman. I suspect the other elders we see are also councilmembers, but I can’t confirm it. At most, he had Dorephan’s blessing, but at worst, he was doing this against the council and probably because his father’s hands were tied with a council full of old geezers turning away aid but disobeying them would probably look like tyranny.

But a royal who can more easily get away with this plan? A prince.

Sidon is so convicted or at least so damn fed up that he is going against the elders, possibly against a council, to get help for his kingdom. That takes a lot of guts. That takes conviction. This is not a wishy-washy prince, this is not a dumb prince, this is a prince who has taken on the mantle of leading and protecting his domain.

And he is compassionate enough, like his father, to understand that Link wasn’t at fault. He and his father, if anyone had the right to be angry about Mipha dying, it’s those two. But they’re not. They both treat Link with kindness and in Sidon’s case, endless advocacy. Even after Muzu’s outburst, he treats him kindly, if firmly. He even talks to Link about understanding why they harbor such feelings, even if they’re unfair to Link. He is the ideal prince, protector of the realm and tireless advocate.

Something that he clearly puts great effort into, while his sister exuded it effortlessly. Sidon is working the whole time you’re doing the quest and then going after Vah Ruta. He swims right into battle with you against the thing that took his sister’s life.

Imagine your sibling dying in a particular building—one that looms over your city for as long as you can remember. Do you think you’d have the stomach to even approach it? Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn’t. I still haven’t been to the place my sister died. It’s a half-hour away.

A reminder that Sidon was a child when she died. I’d say he’s roughly the equivalent of a toddler. He was a toddler when the title of crown royal came to him, and he would have to assume the real training to be king one day, take on the duties of his sister. Dealing with a father forever scarred by the loss of his child, dealing with his own trauma and grief that he’s probably had to stomach down for a century to do his job and do what’s right, all in the shadow of his peerless, graceful sibling who, almost perfect in life, was now perfect in death to the domain. Who could match her skill with her trident? Who could be so easily loving and courageous and strong?

How could a grieving, heart-broken toddler with his childhood ripped away from him compare to that?

There’s aspects of his characterization after this that would entirely be my own speculation and spin on him, such as attempting to fill the space Mipha left behind, seen in how diligently he tries to tell Link how incredible he is, how wonderful and amazing—perhaps also because he never got to tell those things to Mipha, and now will never get his chance. I see him as a prince who looks endlessly enthusiastic—and he is, in a way. But stretches himself thin, pushing himself harder than he should both to fill the gaps left behind by his sister and perhaps, though he’d never admit it, crawl out of them himself. He puts on a brave, strong face, for his father, for his people, for Mipha, and for himself. But it tears at his soul in death by a thousand cuts, a little at a time, every time he can only see his own shortcomings and failures and inability to fill the shoes his sister left behind.

I would not say he is tormented, or that it’s all fake; far from it, I think he genuinely believes not only in Link’s abilities but the abilities of everyone around him. But I believe he aches. An old bruise that’s easy enough to ignore most of the time and healing slowly. But it lingers, aching whenever he thinks he comes up short, pun intended. Reminding him that he is not Mipha. Reminding him that when his father looks at him he no doubt causes him pain, to resemble Mipha. Dorephan is a loving, supportive father, but even the most loving will be different after the loss of their child. Nothing will bring back the days that Sidon probably remembers faintly. And that is, itself, a grief that Sidon is, has, or will have to come to terms with. Your parent cannot be the same parent after the loss of your sibling, and your life will forever become Before Their Death and After Their Death. His father loves him, but grief paints them both. Their love as father and son is forever changed with her death. Each has a hole that neither can fill—and both of them know that. It does not lessen their love; but it remains incomplete.

He has well-earned his fan club, but not for his hot bod.

And no I wouldn’t ship him with Link because yes falling in love with your dead fiancee’s sibling happens irl but like I said before if one of my own dead sister’s old boyfriends came back from the dead and was crushing on me I’d be out of there in a heartbeat, GOODBYE. It’s a perfectly fine ship BUT I GOT MY OWN BAGGAGE OKAY.

Maybe Bazz. Or Yunobo. Or Kass and Teba if they’re down for some polycules. Link and Sidon can be good-but-slightly-awkward-bros.

[thegrandkinghimself]

who is oikawa tooru?

i guess that’s a weird way to start off a post, considering just how popular oikawa is in this fandom. i’m absolutely certain that he’s still one of the most popular characters if i can take the #oikawasear trend on twitter a couple of weeks ago seriously. (i will be mourning that iwaoi is no longer the top ship in this fandom. it’s devastating to me on a personal level). and i can’t say that i’m any different, either, otherwise i wouldn’t have made this blog or this post. but i guess the reason i’ve been itching to write this is because i’ve been in this fandom--and more specifically, a fan of oikawa--for about four or five years now. i devour the content available, and i can assure you that i’ve read too many of the fanfictions on ao3 to be healthy, and never before have i seen a character whose characterization is so hotly disputed. 

and i get it. he’s a complex person. he’s kind of awkward in that there is a very clear disconnect between his outward personality and who he is alone. it’s a very hard balance to strike, especially when you consider just how much conjecture goes on in his characterization among fans and in discourse. he’s really easy to project and certain traits, correct or otherwise, are amplified based off how authors perceive him. there’s plenty of presumptions that can be made based on his on-screen actions/thoughts/beliefs that can be taken to some very logical conclusions. 

but i’ve also seen people write him in ways that don’t strike me as particularly truthful. he’s type casted into stereotypes that don’t do him justice, or made into something that is vaguely like oikawa, but not quite. in the following post, i’ll be trying to dispel misunderstandings of his character, if only for my own sanity. 

tl;dr i think that oikawa is chronically one of the most misrepresented characters in fandom and i want to fix that

exclaimer: i am solely an anime-watcher; i have seen snippets of the manga and therefore have a general idea of what is going on.

let’s establish some very very basic stuff. just to keep it simple, i’m not going to talk about anything beyond what has been published via the anime (as of season four). 

Oikawa Tooru | 及川徹 

gender: male

d.o.b.: 1994.7.20. or 20 July, 1994

height: 184.3 cm

weight: 72.2 kg

occupation: high school 3rd year, class 6

position/number: setter, 1 (captain)

here’s something that’s never pointed out: oikawa is in class 6 which, if we go off the trend of every other school in haikyuu!!, means that he is in a college preparatory class aka he’s pretty dang smart. it’s not confirmed or anything, but it a. follows the trend of every other class 6 student and b. is the highest class available among seijoh 3rd years (classes 5, 3, and 1). don’t get the idea that he’s dumb or unintelligent, or even that his strengths only lie in the classroom because that would be a gross understatement of his skills.

anywho. 

generally speaking, i like to start with the building blocks of his personality because there’s so much room for assumptions. here are the things that i think make up his core personality:

intelligence/knowledgeable: not only academically speaking, but he’s also well-versed in people. he knows how to play them--what will make someone more confident, more doubtful, what will help his teammates succeed. clearly, oikawa is very knowledgeable in human thought patterns. or he’s dedicated a lot of time to knowing them. 

loyalty: of all of oikawa’s traits, i think this one gets talked about the least, but we know it to be true. we make jokes about “you should have come to shiratorizawa” but it really shows you exactly how loyal, how much trust, oikawa has in this team that he has spent three years shaping. he never stops believing in the work that he has put in, and especially the hard work that his teammates have put into their volleyball. 

hardworking: one of the most well-known things about oikawa. most fans already know that his white knee pad is actually a knee brace. ‘nuff said. i salute you, good sir. 

insecurity: oikawa’s insecurities are perhaps his most notable trait. in a sense, he’s sort of the underdog--so good, but never quite good enough to accomplish what he’s set out to do. and we know that he’s struggled with his doubts since junior high, literally since he was 12 or 13, and that’s informed all of his character from the moment he ran into ushijima. oikawa is someone who is defined by his insecurities. 

oikawa is a lot of things. he’s introduced as someone who is very flamboyant--he’s built up by kageyama as the best setter, his senpai literally and figuratively, his initial shots are all of smug smiles and easy, unfaltering swagger in the face of this new team. even his theme, all rambunctious brass and jazzy, is meant to be all in your face, here’s the big boss! he’s someone who is petty and silly and seems to favor shallow conversation. but he’s oikawa, so there’s a surprising amount of depth in the little time that we have with him. there’s a reason that, in any other franchise, he’d probably be the protagonist.

he is someone full of contradictions. he’s childish and he spends time with a bunch of girls and is very clearly someone who likes to project a certain image of himself to the public (see: his cute lil’ humming run after his yell in s4e23 to make him seem kind of normal). but he’s also spent a lot of time with himself. in fact, if we take the few scenes we have of him alone and his bedroom (bare, spartan, meticulous) into account, oikawa actually is much more solemn and/or serious than the image he projects. he’s comfortable in the silences between all the white noise. he’s alright just being with iwaizumi. he allows himself to dwell on the past and his shortcomings, while also looking forward to the future. his ambition and passion to improve drive him, but his past failures weigh him down. they haunt him.

personally, i think that he’s naturally a pretty silly guy when given the chance. it’s not just for show. iwaizumi would even corroborate this à la oikawa’s introduction speech in s1. he likes having fun when he can with his friends. if we assume that oikawa is most himself with iwaizumi, then we definitely know that’s the case (see: “are you my mom, iwa-chan?”), and there’s nothing wrong with that. but i think that the most basic traits of his character, combined with his experiences in volleyball, have pushed him to be this person who is mired in doubt. it’s forced him to go down a path where something that he once loved for the fun of it has now become the source of his ire. it’s really just that simple. maybe in another life, things would be different and oikawa wouldn’t have to struggle as much. but that’s really just a part of the human experience, isn’t it? and, in all honesty, would we really love oikawa as much without all his vices?

and maybe this is getting into speculation, but i don’t think it’s a difficult argument to make that oikawa is really mature. he’s introspective. i say introspective because the revelations that he’s had in regards to his own strengths and weaknesses--those are things he’s had to confront and deal with since he was in junior high (starts at 12 years of age). it takes someone with a lot of maturity and self-awareness to realize those kinds of things about himself.

and he’s stronger than he gets credit for. most people depict him as a crybaby, but he’s really not. he doesn’t cry or give up in the face of ushijima or kageyama’s unfettered growth and successes, he doesn’t cry when faced with defeat. oikawa is there to support iwaizumi in his own doubt as ace, and lend support to his teammates. and oikawa doesn’t get stuck on the what-ifs or has-beens. driven by his infamous ambition, he looks forward to the future. 

it’s kind of a double-edged sword. it’s pushed him this far--he’s put in this much effort to be one of the best in the prefecture--because of his competitive spirit, but it’s also something that has caused him serious injury. oikawa’s motto (”if you’re gonna to hit it, hit it until it breaks!”) is the very epitome of this mentality. it’s a message to work hard to finish what you started, but i also think that you could interpret that hard work breaking you, too. he’s steadfast—obsessive, really—to the point that oikawa will let his passions break him before he would ever give up. it’s the point of all the strife in his life, because he would never have the problems he does if he were even a little less enamored by this sport. 

and you really have to wonder where he would be without ushijima and kageyama as his obstacles. his drive will always be there, that is an intrinsic part of him, as are the standards to which he holds himself, but you really have to wonder just how good oikawa would be if he didn’t have such direct competitors. this is an incredibly important question to ask about kageyama and oikawa in particular. yes, oikawa does loathe ushijima: for his disregard for oikawa’s decisions, for his disregard of oikawa’s loyalty, for his flippant attitude of seijoh, who oikawa has poured his blood and sweat into creating. but ushijima is an opposite hitter. oikawa is a setter. those are two very different positions with little crossover. but with kageyama--that is a clear rivalry. they push each other to be better, made all the more potent by their differences as players; one setter’s growth as a player directly impacts how the other performs in each subsequent game. seijoh’s defeat by karasuno in season 2 just feeds into oikawa’s drive for the future. he has not intention of giving up. a light was lit under him, pushing him forward, to do better, to be better. 

this is something that has been pointed out in a different analysis (linked below) but, narratively speaking, oikawa is kageyama’s foil. their interactions inform their characters and are a major cause of tension in their development. their relationship is really the most complex in the story that i have noticed, and is something that has not been appreciated enough. the iwaizumi-oikawa thing has been expounded and studied in every facet possible (i love the alexander the great/hephaestion allusions), but it’s true that kageyama has impacted oikawa the most. they begrudgingly respect each other’s talents, what it is that they bring to the court, while also envying what the other has in spades that they do not. in oikawa’s case, his strength clearly lies in his interpersonal relationships--his ability to intuit exactly what his teammates need to be at their best. kags is just a fount of overwhelming technical skill who has a really hard time getting to know those around him. living up to the standards that oikawa places on himself, in tandem with kageyama threatening his position as setter, leave oikawa floundering, fearing his own incompetence against opponents who are naturally much better than he. so he’s left with the knowledge that maybe his best isn’t good enough, but he still continues on anyway. he pushes himself past a seemingly unreachable threshold just to go toe-to-toe with this monster. it’s the purpose of his character--to tell this story of the ordinary v. the extraordinary--and it is perhaps the most relatable arc that a story like haikyuu!! can tell.

their connection naturally causes oikawa to seek out help, seen in the flashback scenes where he is talking to an unspecified coach/adult. that coach’s words then become the creed upon which oikawa plays, maybe even more than what iwaizumi has taught him, and is the final push that completes oikawa’s character arc in s2ep24. that change in mindset allows oikawa to see kageyama’s unbridled talent not as an obstacle but as a challenge. it’s very nuanced, but it makes all the difference. it’s why, following seijoh’s defeat, oikawa has the audacity to declare to kageyama and ushijima his plans for the future. in a sense, karasuno and kageyama and ushijima have won the battle but not the war. it’s the tipping point in his story and, more than anything, what makes oikawa so compelling. we have seen what has led up to the change, but now we want to know what he’s going to do to meet that challenge. what will he be doing beyond the story when he is no longer relevant to the narrative? we don’t know the details at this point, but we know that oikawa’s love and ambition for volleyball have been reaffirmed in this moment. 

but to bring it back, the kags-oiks connection also makes us question what it is we are watching, makes us as the audience think: what qualifies someone as a genius? are there any limitations to what that genius can do? what can ordinary people do in the face of those geniuses? 

these are questions that exist beyond the reality of sports and transverse into other disciplines. for me, those are very real questions that i have had to ask myself as a musician. i have dedicated nine, almost 10, years to my practice but there are still 10-year-olds who are just better at it than i ever will be. part of it is time and practice to be sure, but some of it is just innate. and i think the more appropriate version of those questions would be this: what qualifies someone as a prodigy? are there limitations for prodigies? what can we do in the face of prodigies? 

oikawa is a genius player--he knows the ins-and-outs of his sport better than anyone, and he can accomplish great feats that others in his same position can’t. but even with all that veritable experience and skill, he is ultimately still overtaken by a prodigy whose talents seem endless. it’s why he can hate ushijima but fear kageyama. one is something he can actively fight against, the other is inevitable. 

and really, i think that’s the beauty of oikawa tooru, why he’s so beloved by the fandom, even years after he has stopped being relevant to the narrative. beyond the fluff and goofiness and hijinks, there’s someone there who is really, truly, human. 

an aside with much less significance/why do people think this??

so here’s one thing: even though oikawa has fangirls, i wonder what he actually thinks of them. for one, it’s only natural for anyone to be super flattered if people think you’re hot stuff. that’s just... i don’t think he’s weird if he pays attention to them. but i think that people are conflating his being kind to them to being genuinely egotistical due to the attention. actually, i think these are opposing ideas and a contradiction of who oikawa is. when you’re an arrogant person, you think that you deserve all the attention you’re getting and you’re not going to bother with the people who worship you.

but that’s not at all what oikawa does. he’s rather kind to his fans. i would never say that he’s self-effacing, but knowing what you’re worth is different from being pompous. and think about it. it’d be a real jerk move for oikawa to not say nice things to them and thank his fangirls when they spend time, energy, and effort to make him food and see his games. he would just be a genuinely awful person if he didn’t at least give them thanks. it’d be more alarming if he didn’t talk to them, at least in my opinion. more than anything, we should consider this: why is it that oikawa has the fan club and not anyone else on the seijoh team? i’m sure a part of it is because he’s attractive and the captain of a team, but i think it’s more than that, too. we see these interactions from other perspectives, but i think that reflects more on those around oikawa than oikawa himself if they don’t understand why he acts the way he does with those girls.

another thing: i don’t think that anyone can question that oikawa is very pretty, or handsome, or whatever descriptor you would like. it’s prevalent in fandom (see: pretty setters squad), but he is also the only person in canon to be acknowledged by other characters as being particularly good-looking. maybe the miyas count at this point? i’m not sure. but i don’t really understand where people get the idea that he is particularly focused on his appearance, though. there is literally no indication of that from the material that i have seen. and maybe he uses that to his advantage with his fangirls, but i highly doubt that, in all honesty. i think that it’s fun to imagine him being into these things as a hobby, but it irks me greatly when i see that people spend time saying that oikawa wakes up extra early just to fix his hair or slather on foundation/concealer just to look presentable. 

he’s a teenaged boy who clearly has other things that worry him, he’s a full-time student, and volunteers to coach at lil tykes volleyball classroom in his free time. he wouldn’t have time to spend on his hair or makeup. and we even seen in the hanger tooru special that he even wakes up looking like that. 

he is au naturale, my friends. and we even know how little he gives thought to his own body, if you take into account his knee brace. for oikawa, his body is merely the medium through which he can accomplish his goals. we even have evidence of this when we see oikawa up all night studying karasuno game play or via his knee brace. he doesn’t know how to stop or understand when enough is enough. he breaks himself if there’s no one to watch him. 

also, just... how would makeup work, logistically speaking? i don’t wear makeup, but i’m thinking that foundation and concealer and hair product would be, um, really bad. like, it’d run down his face and stuff. also, it’d probably get into his eyes, too? seriously. i’m not against oikawa wearing makeup in the slightest cause he’d be even prettier, but we know that oikawa would absolutely not jeopardize his chances in any way. 

thank you for reading this long-winded, probably awful look into my favorite character of all time. and i do mean that. he is my favorite character in all of media. which, like, says a lot when he’s competing against the casts of a:tla, call me by your name, and my actual favorite book, the song of achilles. after all of that, if you would like another (better) analysis of oikawa’s character, i suggest this reddit thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/haikyuu/comments/94irsi/character_analysis_16_oikawa_tooru_discussion/ 

[alastanor]

To start, I would like to thank @cis-het-angel-kinnie for bringing this video to my attention, even if it was to praise the video rather than to point out it's flawed arguments against Charlie for main character.

If you have not seen the video yet, I recommend giving it a watch prior to reading this or you may be confused.

Click to read more...

What Is A Protagonist?

I am not bringing up this question because I think the source used was incorrect. However, the statement that "protagonists ask questions and antagonists make arguments" is an oversimplification of both roles. And I am going to explain why.

The trope of protagonist vs antagonist is an age old theme which has been used countless times throughout storytelling's history in books, plays, films, and story-driven video games. As such, the definition of both roles has continued to flourish and evolve over time. It is no longer good vs evil.

While @diregentleman used books written by, I assume, published writers for his argument, I am going to use Creative Writing and Literary Experts from a Masterclass article.

In the article, a protagonist is described as this:

"In storytelling, a protagonist is the main character or principal character or group of characters in a story."

More than one character is capable of being an antagonist in this story. Given that demons are meant to be redeemed, fitting the theme of the story, it is fair to surmise that all (or the majority of) the demons surrounding Charlie are protagonists in some form.

The article goes on to state that the protagonist's goals reflect the overall story goals and the plot moves forward based on their decisions.

This being said, Charlie's overall goal reflects the premise of the story, that being that Hazbin Hotel is a story about redemption. This is a goal that Angel Dust does not have.

In DireGentleman's video, he claims Angel Dust joined the Happy Hotel with the intention of being redeemed, albeit skeptical whether it could actually be done. This is actually inaccurate, and we see this in both the pilot and the comic.

Angel does display skepticism straight from the gate, but when they explain their reason for approaching him (that no one else has agreed), he makes this face:

Does that really look like someone who believes redemption may be possible? But for further establishment of just how little Angel believes redemption is possible, Angel also laughs them off and calls their goal "lame."

The only reason Angel agrees to Charlie and Vaggie's proposition is because it is a rent free place to stay. He admits as much just a bit further into the comic. By the end, Angel says "Redemption, it's silly. Huh, Nuggs."

The tone we are led to believe he uses is one of contemplation and relief. Relief due likely to the fact that there is some light at the end of the tunnel to the shit situation he was in.

This is just comic evidence, of course. If we go to the pilot, when Angel is engaging in the turf war with Cherri Bomb, he explains that he is using Charlie and Vaggie for free rent. Further exemplified when he later asks if participating in the turf war meant he didn't have a free room anymore. But also in his conversation with Cherri, he also admits that he is still taking some drugs behind Charlie and Vaggie's back. Something that we see immediately toward the opening of the pilot when Angel buys a bag of Angel Dust.

Character Dynamic

I cannot emphasize this enough, the Hunicast is NOT a good exemplifier for character dynamics. Every single "character interaction" is based on fanon, not canon, and they are prompted by the fans themselves. Only Viv really knows exactly how Angel and Alastor would canonically interact. It is no better a source for character dynamic than the wiki is for accurate information. IE, some things may hold true, but the majority of it is not and it is better just to wait until it is confirmed canon.

Moving on...

There is a lot of focus on Valentino as a main antagonist, based entirely too much on the hope that Angel will be the main protagonist. And this is really just disingenuous when you consider there are two other implied Overlords, as well as several other sources of strife within the world of Hazbin Hotel.

An Antagonist is someone working against the protagonist to prevent them from achieving their goal. Alastor would not meet this criteria, as he is a self-professed observer and conflict creator. But he is not a main antagonist. Someone working against the goal of redemption could be anyone from the Overlords (which, far as we know, would include Valentino), Lucifer, or even Heaven itself.

Where antagonists come into play, quoting Masterlist once again, I think these two types of antagonists were overlooked:

A conflict-creator. An antagonist doesn’t have to be a “bad guy.” Sometimes, they’re just a character whose goals are in direct conflict with the protagonist’s, like Mr. Darcy in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice or Javert working to arrest Valjean in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables.

The protagonist themselves. The main source of conflict in a story can be from within the protagonist themselves—their shortcomings or insecurities are keeping them from reaching their goal. A prime example of this is Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye. While Holden comes into conflict with many characters in the novel, the ever-present antagonizing conflict comes from his own obsessions and insecurities.

Now, why did I bring up these two types? Well! I'm glad you asked! You see, where conflict-creator comes into play would line up more with Alastor. He isn't really the bad guy, but he does create some friction where his goals meet with Charlie's. He is a professed observer, but it is strongly believed that there is something else, another goal, that he has omitted.

As for the Protagonist themselves, this lines up pretty strongly where Charlie is concerned. You could argue that it does for Angel too, but Angel's goal, as mentioned before, is not Redemption. That goal is Charlie's, and hers alone. Yet it is her naivety, inexperience, and insecurities surrounding her failures as a princess that are holding her back from achieving her goal. Going by this, not only do we have multiple protagonists, but we also have multiple antagonists.

"So far, no one else's past is wrought with tension like Angel Dust's."

Even if this wasn't a sweeping, dismissive statement made with limited information, it would still be incorrect. Why? Because each and every character in Hazbin Hotel is going to have their own story to tell. Stories that will each be as relatable and wrought with tension, the only reason we know Angel so extensively is because Viv put the most work into him. She has admitted that Alastor and Angel were characters she wrote based on past dealings and experiences she had. Let those implications sink in a bit.

Now, to further this, people don't need to empathize with a character to like them. They can sympathize as well, even if they personally cannot relate to the emotions the character is feeling.

And where Angel is concerned, he is not addicted to drugs. Angel has used drugs to escape the pain of his trauma. His response in the pilot to having his drugs stolen from him is not one of a typical addict. Which leads us to believe the drugs are simply a coping mechanism more than they are an addiction.

Real Audience for Hazbin is 12 to 16

I would really fucking hope you are joking. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that this was said by someone who isn't a parent. While yes, kids will be sneaky and watch or play things they're not supposed to, a show with drug use/abuse, rape, sex, physical/mental/emotional abuse, and suicide is as much for them as Rick and Morty.

Further, it is not just these themes that make the show for adults. It is the format of the storytelling. Yes, you can complain about what you consider issues with the pilot. But at the end of the day, it did it's job. It established the story premise, introduced important characters (Fat Nuggets does not fall in that category, calm down), gave a basic understanding of their relationships to each other, and get the audience interested in continuing the series. Considering the views for the pilot and the resulting disproportionate growth of the fandom, I would say it did that in spades.

Hazbin Hotel is not Steven Universe. I cannot say this enough times, and the reason I cannot is because I cannot tell you how many times I have come into contact with the underage side of the fandom griping about lack of lore, griping about lack of production information, and overall being exceedingly impatient. At the risk of sounding like an old miser, the underage side of the fandom has never had to wait for additions to a series. Like waiting for Homestuck updates, or the new release of a Harry Potter novel. They have had a steady schedule of content, along with shows that give exposition dumps "in the first 3 minutes."

So don't look at Hazbin Hotel through the lens of kids' show fandoms. It has so much more to offer than that.

Alastor vs Valentino

No, this is not about whether Alastor could beat up Valentino. In the video, DireGentleman pulled a huge pet peeve of mine and lumped Valentino and Alastor together, labeling them both "monsters." Which is opening a huge can of worms for me. So, I will give a brief summary of why that is wrong, and provide a link to one of my other posts for deeper diving.

So, there is a reason why Valentino is more hated than Alastor is. Lumping them together is a mistake.

Valentino is a pimp that abuses and manipulates his victims through intimidation and (implied through) some kind of addiction to the red smoke (whether that is real or symbolism is yet unknown). He takes who and what he wants, be damned the consequences or who gets hurt. He is incredibly self-serving, with no consideration for anyone else. He uses people like pawns, and when those pawns refuse to do what he wants, what does he do? He forces them to do it anyway.

By comparison, while Alastor may use his people like pawns, he also has more consideration for them and doesn't abuse them (far as we can tell). The evidence to support this is the attitude of those serving under Valentino vs those under Alastor. Niffty and Husk both seem to not have a problem with Alastor, and where Husk is concerned it seems that his attitude toward Alastor is their typical banter. But definitely nothing that displays abuse. In fact, when Husker is hesitant or even refusing to do as Alastor asks, Alastor doesn't force Husker. He offers payment in the form of something Husker genuinely likes.

Now, while some might argue this is also manipulating through addiction, one could look at it this way. However, Alastor didn't make Husker an alcoholic. That was Husker's vice to begin with, Alastor simply has no intention of fixing it. After all, Alastor has said he doesn't think anything can change a sinner.

For further explanation and delving into Alastor, click here.

Parents don't 'get' Charlie = Disney Princess

Once again, we fall upon the slippery slope of disinformed statements. While the joke was made that the princess of hell expresses herself best through song, parent issues do not equate to being something that is relatable primarily or only to kids and teens. It's kind of offensive that there is a sort or implication in this statement that adults don't have issues like insecurities surrounding their own failures, or parent issues like what Charlie has or worse. And once again, we fall into the empathize vs sympathize realm and I once again will say that the audience does not need to empathize with the protagonist to make them a good protagonist.

Charlie is a failed princess, her people don't respect her and didn't even prior to her hotel announcement. Yes, she is sheltered and naive. Likely due to how little she was able or allowed to interact with sinners. After all, her ex-boyfriend was from another hellborn family. One that, from what we can surmise, interacts rather frequently with the Magne family.

And it is because of this naivety and inexperience that her method to redeem sinners will not work.

In the video, DireGentleman states that we can pretty much assume that Charlie's redemption methods will work. But her methods, as we see in her song, is to inject demons with meds and take away/burn their vices. She is seeking immediate resolutions to problems that require therapy and a long process that should be making sinners want to change. All Charlie is currently accomplishing is earning the ire and scrutiny of her people. This is why I previously mentioned that Charlie is both protagonist and antagonist, as she is getting in her own way to accomplishing the goal of redemption. And this is where we find that Charlie meets the "starts out being wrong" requirement mentioned in the video as well as "admiring a character for trying."

Charlie is also in a perfect position to be the tour guide for us, the audience, as we observe the metamorphosis of every demon who needs to be redeemed. She is, once again, surrounded by those who need to be redeemed which means we will witness every character arc. This includes Angel, who does not need to be the central focus for us to witness his story.

Finally...

It was stated, or at least implied, that Hazbin Hotel's pilot is no longer relevant. This is a statement that pretty much leaves me puzzled. The only way it would be irrelevant is if Hazbin went in a completely different direction, and we have no reason to believe it will. Vivziepop is still creative director for Hazbin Hotel, and A24 is notorious for giving creators their creative freedom. What A24 is doing is animating, making VA regulations, and ensuring there is an air tight lid kept on the project. Especially given it's popularity in such a short amount of time.

Contrary to what DireGentleman said, Hazbin Hotel will definitely live up to it's hype. Being picked up by A24 will not compromise the show simply because it's not in the same realm of indie production that Helluva Boss is. And it's a bit unfair to Vivziepop to imply as much.

In Conclusion...

Please do a bit more digging in regards to not only the show, but everything surrounding it. Don't lump fanon and canon together and expect them to be equal sources, and please do not claim an obviously adult-audience show is more fit for children and teens.

And lastly, please do more digging to better understand media and storytelling. Reading books is great, but what you were using as the foundation for your arguments were far too simplified and vague,, given the complexity of the protagonist and antagonist roles. Overall, the video just came across as one huge helping of Angel Dust bias with a side of strong dislike for Charlie.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Rumor Has It {9}*

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler-Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Slow Burn, Small Sensual Smut

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤❤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Two and a Half Weeks Later-

  A lot can change in six weeks. People can die, relationships end, or begin, or even become rejuvenated. Eight weeks ago, you couldn’t fathom the events that transpired between you and Chris. You couldn’t have imagined the troubles with his co-star, or the deep-rooted insecurities the both of you held or even the pain that the two of you would have to work through. It was more than you had ever expected but you were grateful you had gone through it.  You’d found new appreciation and love for your husband and everything he was.

 After the thrice-weekly counseling sessions you and Chris attended for the last seven weeks you felt your marriage was stronger than ever. You felt closer to him than you’d ever felt. The homework sessions you’d been assigned seemed to work miracles. They were all designed to strengthen communication like the questions that were assigned for the two of you to go through and answer through discussion. The questions were usually about deep values the two of you held such as how each of you would want honesty to be handled in your relationship, or what ways do each of you prefer expression of each other’s shortcomings.

 Then there was the homework designed to increase emotional intimacy, like the exercise you did every night where the two of you sat in your underwear on the floor in front of each other and just stared into each other’s eyes. There was no talking and no moving just gazing and breathing that increased in time over the weeks. You were now up for forty minutes. In the beginning, the two of you could barely get through ten minutes without feeling uncomfortable or looking away to some part of each other’s bodies. Today is was easy to remain focused on each other’s eyes and it gave you a feeling of comfort and connection that lingered for hours and hours.

 The sound of your phone broke you out of your thoughts. As you walked across your office to your cellphone on your desk you saw Chris’ face on your phone. A smile spread across your face.

“Hello?”

 “I’m going to be a little late for the session. I have a meeting about Knives Out and it is intersecting with the time for therapy. I’m so sorry. I tried everything to push it back--.”

 “Chris, it’s okay. I understand.”

 “Do you? I don’t want you to think I’m not taking this serious or that--.”

 “I know how serious you’re taking this. I see the effort you’ve made the last few weeks despite being in the middle of promo and a lot of work. I see you’ve done everything you can to make this and us primary even if it resulted in contract breaches.”

 He’d told his people to inform production that he was taking a step back from a lot of the promo for the movie due to a family emergency. The majority of his promo obligations were done through video conferences and interviews or phone interviews. Anything that could be transitioned to Boston was, anything that couldn’t he just didn’t do. Unlike other celebrities, you didn’t feel a need to disclose that you’d experienced a miscarriage because it was no one’s business but yours and Chris’. Thankfully he agreed wholeheartedly. Your families were amazing. When they found out about everything, they were all incredibly supportive and helpful in any way they could. You were never meant to feel less than or inadequate and that was a relief. The subject was still a tough one, but you and Chris were working through it and had come to a mutual acceptance regarding the loss of your child. It wasn’t meant to be at the time.

 “You should know you and our marriage is more important to me than anything, career and contract breeches included.”

 Your smile was a wide one as his words filled you with warmth and love.

 “After—do you think you might want to have dinner at our place?”

 Another smile spread across your face, this one wider than the one before. You leaned against your desk and wrapped your free hand around your abdomen. The memories of your place came flooding back. They were good memories—incredible memories and you loved every one of them. You’d had so many firsts there.

 “Dragonfly?” Butterflies whisked through your belly and you actually sighed and tried to fight those very butterflies from making a descend down south. It had been quite a while.

 “I’m here. Yeah, yeah that sounds great,” you responded.

 “Okay. So, I’ll see you at therapy.”

 “Okay. Drive safe. Bye.”

 “Uriah?”

 “Yeah.”

There was a ten-second pause before he spoke again.

 “I love you.” Three words was all it took for your heart to melt and those butterflies to bring on a wave of desire. Those words from him meant much more now than they ever did. You’d taken them for granted before. You wouldn’t ever again, especially knowing how easy it was to lose love, happiness, and even life.

 “I love you too Chris.”

 The two of you lingered on the phone for a few more seconds before you ended it. you sat there for a few minutes and tried to push away the desire and arousal you were battling. It difficult and the difficulty it took was increasing with every passing day. A lot could change in little time.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well, it seems that this is a good place to end for this session. I am pleased things have been going so well between you,” Dr. Danquah exclaimed with a jovial smile on her face.

 Glancing at Chris who was beside you met your gaze and smiled as well. “We are too, we’ve really been working at it like you said. Anything is possible if two people want it bad enough,” Chris voiced while never taking his eyes off yours. He opened his hand waiting for you to take it. you wasted no time before you placed your hand in his. Butterflies filled you again as he laced your fingers together.

 “Wonderful. I also take it you two have been adhering to my no intercourse rule?”

 Both of you looked to her with straight faces. “Oh yeah. There have been no invasions of foreign land here.”

 You snorted then pinched your lips shaking your head. There was his sense of humor again.

 “Good. For many couples, I know this can be incredibly hard.”

 “Hard is a very good word to use.”

 “Chris!” He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

 “I get it, don’t worry. Sex is a natural part of a healthy, loving relationship. Many use it as a way to communicate. The thing is you never want to rely on it as a primary mode of communication. With the two of you; communication was a big hurdle to overcome and rework. We’ve been working these last weeks to rebuild and reevaluate what communication means to the two of you and we’ve been doing the homework to rewire your brains. Just like any workout plan, it takes two weeks to feel it, four to see it with your own eyes and six to eight to hear it, hence a real change. The two of you are making great progress but you are not quite there where we can reintroduce sex,” Dr. Danquah explained.

 You nodded because you understood and knew she was right and knew this was the best path for the two of you to go. Just because you knew and understood, didn’t mean it was easy. Every time you saw him around the house, he looked better and better. He’d kept up with his Captain America body and still worked out quite often this afforded him the body of a God. Every time when you did your intimacy exercise it was always hard not to look over his body, always difficult not to let your mind wander to sinful places.

 “I think it is a good time to tweak the intimacy exercise. As you know from the beginning you’ve traveled through stages with it. First you were fully clothed, then one item of clothing was gone, then both. The next stage is fully undressed. The two of you will choose a time and place that works for you. You will undress and perform the exercise. See how long you can make it, ideally, I’d like the forty minutes to remain but again this is at your pace. Do you think you can do that?”

 You could feel Chris’ eyes on you. You tried to slow your racing heart before you looked at him. The expression on his face was masked as he searched your eyes. You nodded.

 “Yeah, we can do that.” Chris nodded his head then and looked back to Dr. Danquah.

 “After you’ve reached your limit of time that the two of you feel comfortable, then I want the both of you to take another five to ten minutes to voice to the other just what you love about them. Try to keep these admissions and statements short and precise. Vagueness is the enemy. Do you understand?”

 “Sounds easy,” Chris zealously announced.

 You wished you had even half of his certainty. Sitting naked in front of your handsome, sexy and built husband for forty minutes and remain focused on his eyes and your intimate connection while not jumping his bones would not be easy. Failure was imminent. 

~~~~~~~~

 After the session, it was close to eight. You and Chris drove separately back to the brownstone. It gave you more time to think about the session and your assignments for the night and this week ahead. You and Chris were not one of those couples who were seeking therapy because you weren’t attracted to the other anymore and needed help unlocking that attraction and desire for one another. You and Chris were the couple who still had plenty of burning desire for the other and just needed help with centering the focus in their relationship. Through the last few weeks, the attraction you had for each other was evident with lingering looks or touches. Even the air between you and around the house was supercharged with everything that was being suppressed between you.

 It took you almost twenty minutes to get home and Chris had made your reservations for eight-thirty which meant you didn’t have much time to get ready. You quickly went into motion with finding an outfit before you attempted to coif your hair in a semi intricate style that Chris would appreciate. He especially loved when you left your hair in its natural curled and coiled state. The result was always his undivided attention on you and his hands in your hair. You’d probably be able to handle his undivided attention but his fingers playing in your hair was another story. You probably wouldn’t be able to resist that.

When you came downstairs Chris was standing in the living room with his back turned to you. The way his dark checkered suit jacket hugged his shoulders and back muscles made your eyes roam his frame more. The lower they went the more your palms itched to touch. When your eyes landed on his perfectly toned derriere you admired the way his matching suit pants hugged every curve, and that is where your eyes stayed. 

You didn’t even realize when he turned around until you heard him clear his throat. Your head snapped up and met his eyes. He was softly smiling.

 “And here I thought you didn’t check me out anymore.”

 You snorted and dipped your head lower. If he only knew how much you’d checked him out over the last few weeks.

 “I am only human,” you answered. Chris’ eyes swept over your body and a pleased smile took over.

 “God Uriah, you’re gorgeous. My god—how did I get so lucky?”

 He walked around you like a predator assessing their prey and your skin prickled with goosebumps. You had no idea how one man could hold so much alluring sex appeal. You’d lost your voice and remained silent and the amused glint in his eyes said he knew it. He stood beside you and held out his arm.

 “Shall we, Mrs. Evans?” You loved hearing that from him, looping your arm through his you smiled.

 “We shall, Mr. Evans.”

 You walked through the door and down the steps to his waiting car and everything the evening held in store for you.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

“This place is still the same.” You looked around the dimly lit restaurant and took in every detail. The flowers throughout the dining room were beautiful and wafted a soft aroma around that mingled with the finely prepared food that was being served. The view was incredible. The first time Chris had taken you here was the first time you were in Boston since you’d married. It was a brand new restaurant and hadn’t gotten many patrons due to it still being in its very first week of service. You fell in love the first night as you celebrated your first trip to Boston as a married couple. Then you took the time to celebrate anything and everything. Since you’d come here to celebrate any and everything.

 “I’m glad it is,” Chris whispered before he took a sip of his beer.

 “So, what are we celebrating tonight?” He smiled then gazed at you for almost a minute without speaking.

 “That we’re in a good place. We’ve been able to make it through something that would have broken other couples. Let’s celebrate that our love is stronger than ever. I hope you feel the same way.”

 Uncertainty and worry washed over his face as he waited for you to respond. You reached over the table and rested your hand on his.

 “Of course, I feel the same way, Chris. We’ve been through a lot, you’re right and we should celebrate that we’ve been able to go through the dark tunnel and we didn’t give up.” Chris laced his fingers with yours and gently squeezed your hand. You held his gaze and felt the air around you change.

 “Mr. and Mrs. Evans, your desserts.” Once the waiter spoke you pulled your hand back. Chris looked disappointed but the look faded as quickly as it appeared.

 “Thank you.”

 The caramel and amaretto drizzled double layer chocolate fudge brownie before you looked delicious. You took up the fork and looked over to Chris’ plate of bourbon and chocolate sauce drizzled triple fudge chocolate cake and smiled.

 “Fudge chocolate cake still do it for you huh.”

 “What can I say, I just love chocolate. Can’t you tell how much?”

 The intensity in his eyes was not missed on you. You knew just how he meant it. Heat rushed through you and pooled between your legs. Looking down to your plate you took a forkful and placed it into your mouth and moaned at the delectable taste of the confection. Every time you came here you got the same thing and every time it tasted like the first time you had it. You tipped your tongue out to lick your lips and took a peek at Chris across from you. His eyes were focused on your mouth. You bit your bottom lip, it was an action you’d done hundreds of times over the years when you saw him looking at your mouth, it was unconsciously done. Chris cleared his throat and looked away as he straightened in his seat. The tension between you was palpable.

 The ride home was tense and thanks to the two accidental hand grazes your skin was on fire. On some level you were happy that the attraction between you hadn’t faded, that would have been an additional struggle to rekindle. Because that attraction was still as present as ever it made it even more difficult to adhere to the rules of therapy. Being married for so long you also knew Chris’ tells that said he was struggling just as much. Chris has a natural sex appeal that was always around him. Others got the beginning stages, the docile, polite ones. He reserved the full levels, the catastrophic panty soaker levels for you.

 His eyes were always expressive, and he always used them. Throughout dinner, he’d made sure to make eye contact with you every chance he got often lingering the looks just enough to raise the temperature in the restaurant. He also knew you loved his tongue, so he played it up, licking his lips, or tipping it out to taste something. Your husband was the expert at the tease. Now wasn’t any different, you would have bet he initiated those “accidental” touches.

 As he drove your eyes drifted to him and went over his right hand clutched the stick. In the dim light of the car, his grip looked slack as if he were merely resting it there. You moved your eyes to the wheel that he held with his other hand just at the bottom. You loved to watch him drive, there was always something incredibly attractive how he controlled the wheel and shifted the gears of the stick so easily. He’d been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift and it was not easy, but he made it look so simple.

 When he rolled to a stoplight your eyes dropped down to his spread thighs. The way his slacks hugged his slender but powerful thighs had you taking in a slow deep breath. Chris squeezed the handle of the gear, from how pronounced each of his knuckles were you guessed it was a tight squeeze. Moving your eyes back to his thighs you slowly went over every detail before you moved to his crotch. You could already see a bulge, but it wasn’t an aroused bulge it was just how blessed your husband was. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and burrowed in the leather passenger seat hoping the feel of the leather on your skin would be enough of a consolation—it wasn’t.

 When the green glow lit the interior of the car, Chris quickly shifted gears and slammed on the glass. The tires screeched at the sudden change in speed and you heard him groan out. He knew you were watching him, and he was having a hard time ignoring it.

 By the time you walked inside the house again the only thing you wanted was a hot bath and a way to relieve yourself. You kicked off your shoes, picked them up and made your way to the steps.

 “Uriah.”

 Looking over your shoulder your eyes met his. “Thank you for agreeing to dinner.”

 “Thank you for asking me.” Your eyes lingered and the temperature in the room rose. Then Chris walked away toward his office leaving you standing there to catch your breath for a little while before you hurried up to your bathroom.

 Forty minutes, three orgasms, and several cramped fingers later you were sitting in your closet but still on edge. While your extracurricular activities in the shower helped to rid you of more than half of your need for him you were still left with that empty feeling that only Chris could fill. You decided maybe work would help to take your mind off of your hedonistic urges. So fifteen minutes later you were in your office going over contracts, answering emails and making plans for the next few weeks. You went over every one of your upcoming obligations and got lost with scanning a script that was sent by your manager.

 By the time you heard the knock at your door, it was near one in the morning. “Hey, you okay?”

 You gave your husband’s tank and sweats clad body a once over and flush of desire washed over you again. Sighing you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah. Great.”

 “You’ve been in here a while.”

 “Yeah, I got carried away with work and reading this script.”

 “Ooh, a script. Is it any good?” He leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. The action made his biceps bulge even more. You leaned back in your chair and audibly groaned as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

 “Uh—yeah, it reads good. It’s a dramedy.”

 Chris snorted and nodded. “Dramedy, didn’t you say no more after the last one?”

 “I did but there’s action in there too. It doesn’t seem like a typecast to me.”

 “Okay. I can take a look at it if you want, give you a different perspective.”

 You were too busy checking him out to register what he said. When you got to his hips, the way the sweats sat just below his obliques you knew he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them.

 “Riah.”

 “Yes. Yes, that’s—what?” Chris smirked and pushed his lower half off the structure and your eyes went right back to his hips.

 “So that uh—assignment by Dr. Danquah,” Chris began. Your eyes trailed back to his, he had your undivided attention now.

 “Yeah.”

 “Feel like trying tonight?”

 You absentmindedly traced your lips with your finger thinking about if you had the strength tonight. Chris had a mischievous smirk on his lips and you were itching to ask him why he was so amused.

 “Do you?”

 He shrugged and glanced down to the wooden floors as he uncrossed his legs and recrossed them, so his left leg was the one on top. “I leave it entirely up to you babe.” The sound of the pet name was unexpected. He hadn’t used it in weeks. You sensed he was consciously trying to keep his words as neutral as possible. This was a slip, a slip that made you moan. Your moan made his hips lurch forward and like a chain reaction you bit down onto your bottom lip.

 This was every day in your lives since you met him, he set you off and then you returned the favor and you knew it would continue until one of you closed the space between you and when that happened neither of you would be able to resist the other. You cleared your throat, averted your eyes and looked down at the papers on your desk.

 “Yeah, we could try. I’m gonna finish up the next ten or so pages and I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” you informed making sure not to look at him.

 “How about the living room instead?”

 “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.” You busied yourself and nodded your head while focusing on the screen of your laptop. When you felt him walk away you released a rush of breath and tried to calm your beating heart.

Fifteen minutes later as you descended the stairs you heard the soft sounds of the Bon Ivar song you’d recently been using during these exercises. You loved the song even more every time you heard it. When you got to the threshold of the living room you saw the lights off and the fireplace was roaring and there he was on one knee nursing the wood. Your heart skipped a beat and you were sure you knew where that beat went—right between your legs. When he turned, he just stared at you. It reminded you of the night he asked you to marry him and the night he asked you to be the mother of his children. On both occasions, he got on one knee.

 For some reason you felt nervous to do this. Over the last few weeks, this exercise became something you looked forward to at the end of the day. It had started to become something of a comforting force for you. Tonight, your therapist was upping the ante, tonight was a whole different level of intimacy. You slowly walked to your husband as he stood and put the fire poker down. When you stood before him with the fireplace between you it was then you realized he had on a lot more clothes than you. Chris must have thought about his clothes too his eyes scanned his body then yours and rested his eyes on yours.

 He took a deep breath and lifted his shirt off then dropped it to the side. In the glow of the fire, his hair and beard looked like a deeper rust color and as the light danced across his skin it gave him a warm hue, one that complimented every dip and curve of his muscles. Chris then looped his fingers in the waistband of his sweats and pulled them off. You were right, he wasn’t wearing underwear. As he kicked them to the side your eyes slowly drank in the sight of him. He was absolutely perfect, and no other could ever compare. Chris rolled his shoulders back and held his head higher. He was feeling vulnerable. It was your turn to take the leap with him.

 Slowly you untied your robe while keeping your eyes on his. Before you shrugged off the robe you hesitated, and you knew it was silly. He’d seen you naked so many times, he knew every inch and crevice of your body. He could probably paint a perfect oil painting of what you looked like with his eyes closed. It was silly your hesitation and anxieties. So, you took a breath and shrugged off your robe. Chris kept his eyes on yours for a long while. When they dipped lower it was a slow journey, he looked as if he were pressing every curve of your body, every beauty mark, and scar to memory. Your heart rapidly beat from your nervousness, but your belly fluttered like a swarm of angry butterflies lived there. With everything in you, you wanted him to come to you.

 Chris looked as if he wanted to say something but instead, he pinched his lips. You weren’t supposed to talk. The two of you sank down to the fur rug and sat in front of each other and listened to the song playing over your sound system. Neither of you broke your eye contact or moved an inch. Two minutes, then five passed and before you knew it you’d lost track of the time and only focused on his eyes and everything you saw there. You saw love, hope, fear, desire, and a deep yearning. You didn’t know what he was yearning so deeply for and you wanted to touch him so badly.

 His bobbing Adam’s apple caught your eye and you wondered if this was difficult for him. Meeting his gaze again you focused more intently on the goal of the exercise and everything you wanted. The love you felt for him was powerful and the love you felt wafting off of him was equally as strong. Soon you got swept away in that love and the deepness of his eyes. Before you’d felt nervous, scared even but now all of that was gone, all you felt was calm, and an overwhelming connection that felt as if there were an invisible string from your heart to his.

 Before you knew it there was a bell chiming in the distance. It wasn’t loud but it was distracting. Blinking your eyes you looked beside Chris and saw the blinking of his phone alarm. When you looked back to him he wasn’t moving. His eyes were glued to your breasts.

 “I love how smart you are, that you consciously make an effort to learn things and be a part of things that interest you,” Chris began; his voice was soft but confident. You gave him a small smile.

 “I love your honesty. From the day you met me you have never lied to me about anything, even if it’ll hurt me, you have always kept it one hundred percent real. I appreciate that more than you know.”

He didn’t speak immediately; he didn’t look as if he were trying to think of something else to say he looked like he was trying to let your words sink in.

 “I love your genuineness. You’ve never pretended to be anything you weren’t. that includes having a censor. I love that you don’t censor what you say especially to me, even though it drives me crazy something. I still love it.”

 You smiled then pinched your lips. He smiled back at you.

 “I love your sense of humor. You always make me laugh, yeah it’s kind of like a frat boy sense of humor or a dirty old man but I don’t mind because your dirty mind matches mine.” Chris snorted and laughed out loud slapping his hand across his chest. You laughed with him and fell even more in love with him.

 “I also love your laugh,” you added.

 Chris’s laughter died down and smiled at you. “I love your kindness, you love to make people think you’re mean and nothing but a savage but I see right through that Riah, I fell in love with your kindness, and how giving you are of your time, yourself, your resources. You are happy to give everything you have away and I love that about you.”

 Feeling the prickle of tears you looked away from him but your eyes had a mind of their own and they dropped to his lap. Another wave of desire washed over you.

 “I love your body,” you groaned out. Chris snorted again. You looked back to him and shook your head. “I’m sorry, well not really. I do love your body. You’ve always been the most beautiful, sexiest man I have ever met; you will always be it for me, Chris. Always.”

 Suddenly Chris leaned over the space between you and moved closer. Before you were maybe half a foot apart now just inches. “I love your heart dragonfly, I love everything about you, from every natural hair follicle to your toenails. You’re the most beautiful, seductive, tempting and sexiest woman ever, you’re a goddess. My queen. I love you Riah.” A tear slid down your cheek, but Chris swiped it away and kissed where it rolled seconds before. Closing your eyes, you sat there and allowed him to place soft kisses across your face—your cheeks, forehead, jaw, nose, eyelids, and finally your chin.

 When you didn’t feel his lips for several moments you opened your eyes to look into his. “Forever and a day Uriah. You promised me forever and a day and I won’t stand for anything less. I’m collecting all of it. Forever and a day.”

 Crushing your lips to his you kissed him with everything you possessed. Your mother told you when you were a teenager that women fell in love one real time with one man. She said you could love others but that real, soul-shaking, earth-shattering love could only be felt once with one man. She said she’d felt that way with your father and one day if you were lucky you’d feel it. you never felt it with Christiano or any of your other boyfriends. You’d only ever felt it with Chris and after damn near five years of marriage, you still felt that way. Nothing had changed.

 Chris lifted you onto his lap holding you in the tantric position as he savored your lips as if they were spun sugar and it was all he needed to sustain. When you felt him nibble your bottom lip you wrapped your arms around him and sank your fingers into his hair. Chris moaned on your lips and delved his tongue further into your mouth. The way his tongue teased and danced with yours stole your breath. You had to pull away and gasp for air. Chris then latched his mouth onto your neck and sucked at the spot on your neck he knew always drove you crazy. You moaned again and panted out ending with his name.

 “Chris,” it was a fevered whisper. You could feel his need growing between you and you wanted nothing more than to slowly slide onto his length and reconnect with him the way your body needed.

 “I love you so much, kitten.”

 Chris cupped your breast and dropped his mouth to your hardened nipple. You threw your head back and moaned enjoying the feel of him. Chris suckled, licked and nibbled your flesh and in no time his length was hardened against your belly. It would be so easy and quick to just take what you needed, what you both needed in this moment, but you knew it would be a want of the flesh. Your bodies didn’t need to reconnect as much as your hearts and souls did—not yet at least.

 As if reading your mind, he pulled his mouth back from your breast and kissed you once, then twice and gazed into your eyes. “I know, we can’t.”

 “I want to,” you assured.

 “I know, me too.” He kissed you again, you took control of the kiss and quickly got lost in it. Chris moaned on you and lowered his hand to your backside and squeezed. You groaned as Chris tore his lips away. “So damn much.” You quickly nodded.

 “I want us more,” Chris added. You gave him a small smile then gave him a soft kiss.

 “I do too.” He looked relieved as he dropped his forehead to your chest. You hugged his head to you and the two of you stayed like that.

 “Forever and a day,” you repeated.

~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~

TagList: 

@chaneajoyyy @firedolphin04 @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @vannahvannahhh @academic-glowup @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle  @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @disneysdarlingdiva @toniilaney @areubeingserved @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @southerngracela @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @squeackygee @ab-baybay @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @a-dizzle777 @taylorveebee   @thatcrazymarvelfan @thelittlemoistcarrot @oceanscorazon @90sinspiredgirl@missyperle @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @chrisgalore @cherrystainedlipsbaby @marvelfansworld @blowmymbackout @almostpurelysmut @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @choices97 @momobaby227  @phreshouttherunwaaayy @rynabarnesrogers @blowmymbackout @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej  

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream - Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

Metal Gear games are some of the only video games I really feel like I can talk about in my review style, because these games are about 85% story and 15% gameplay, and even that might be a generous estimate. But what about a Metal Gear game that is infamously criticized for a lack of a story? Or, well, I should say an incomplete story. Metal Gear Solid V is a game composed of the somewhat short epilogue Ground Zeroes and the sprawling main game The Phantom Pain, and together they combine to make quite a divisive package, with many citing the absolutely stellar gameplay as a selling point while condemning the supposedly sloppy and incomplete story as a major downgrade. Some have seen this game as a step down from the lofty heights of Kojima’s previous four games, while others are just as likely to embrace it. I suppose that is the nature of Kojima’s work; it always sparks discussion and debate.

I’m certainly not going to debate on the gameplay here; it’s a very fantastic open world sandbox that gives you a lot to do, from capturing animals to spiriting away guards with the Fulton system to finding the oodles of cassette tapes so that you can blast “Take On Me” while you ride a horse guns blazing into a fortress full of armed Russian soldiers. You can play stealthy or straightforward, pacifist or violent, and you can do it all while Joy Division and Spandau Ballet blare over the speakers of your helicopter. This is easily some of the best gameplay the series has ever had, and there are plenty of little missions and side objectives to do while you scour the maps for things to do. But I’m not here to sell you this game based on its gameplay; any game reviewer worth their salt has done that already. No, I’m  going to make a case for the story and characters, and hopefully convince someone that they’re not nearly as bad as some have claimed.

The centerpiece of this game is Venom Snake. Venom might actually be my favorite Snake of them all; this sounds blasphemous, but his character arc is just so beautifully tragic to me, and how he compares to Big Boss, it just really makes me love him. Venom is a man who was never given much of a choice; it was decided he should be Big Boss’ “Phantom” while he was in a coma. And when he wakes up, while he looks the part and can act the part, he just doesn’t have the wit or talkativeness that Big Boss does, leading to Venom being a bit more quiet than most of the other protagonists in the series. But his silence masks that, unlike Big Boss, to the very end Venom was a truly noble man, never mind he believed himself a demon. Unlike Big Boss, who may or may not have outright brainwashed people into joining his cause and who didn’t break a sweat at training children for war, it never even crosses my mind that Venom used torture and brainwashing, and he never fights to have child soldiers after Kaz tells him no – he drops it without much of an argument. Venom is a good man, one who does some dark things in the name of keeping the world safe, but he never truly sinks into anti-villainy the way the man he’s doubling for does, at least not in this game. Any man who would spare Huey rather than execute him immediately has a bottomless well of compassion in their soul and higher moral fiber than most of us.

Of course, the real reason I love Venom is the two most meaningful arcs: his coming to terms with Paz, and his relationship with Quiet. The former is a hauntingly tragic look at Venom’s psyche, something that shows that even though he doesn’t remember who he was, the memory of his failure to save Paz still follows him like a shadow, and the moment when Paz leaves the phantom tape telling him to let go and live – a sentiment Big Boss himself would eventually echo at the end of his life – is poignant and beautiful. As for his relationship with Quiet… everything about it just really gets to me. It’s such a beautiful friendship they form, from enemies to partners with a mutual respect, one that works even better as both are characters who speak very little or not at all. It gets to the point where, yes, the two seem like they do love each other, with culminates in the most adorable scene in the entire franchise as they splash each other in the rain… but it’s a love that can never be, as despite her respect and admiration of Venom, Quiet has a desire for vengeance that she lets consume her… and it leads to her a demise, though it is a demise of her own choosing that she brings about in a final effort to save Venom. That moment that ends their story together, which has Venom running through the desert only to find the tape with Quiet’s first, last, and only words to the man she loved, is just utterly heartbreaking and the perfect depressing capstone to their partnership.

Venom is not a character that gets happy endings. In fact, after it’s revealed he was turned into the body double of Big Boss, it’s shown that ultimately he would go on to die in Big Boss’ place during the Outer Heaven uprising depicted in the original Metal Gear. The ultimate tragedy and heartbreak that Venom goes through in this story and the others is ultimately what draws me to him and adore him; unlike Solid Snake, he never gets to earn his happy ending, dying for the cause of his commander, loyal to the bitter end, having lost almost everyone he loved and cared for along the way. Unlike Big Boss, he never gets to ultimately realize the fruitlessness of his actions and truly come to terms with the fact that all he lost just wasn’t worth it in the end. He’s just so fascinatingly sad, and it’s a sort of sadness that really draws me in. I wouldn’t say he’s a better protagonist than Solid Snake is, and he lacks some of the finesse and charm that Big Boss does, but there’s just a lot to Venom that makes him an incredibly compelling character in his own right, and all with only the bare minimum of a vocal performance.

Speaking of minimal vocal performances, there is Quiet. Quiet is such an odd character, even for this series; she is blatantly designed to be an over-the-top fanservice character in a series that has tons of gratuitous fanservice in the first place, to the point where it’s kind of weird and uncomfortable. Of course, thankfully, as Kojima is incapable of just leaving a character as one-note and superfluous, he gives Quiet the standard bonkers backstory nearly every character in the franchise gets, and as mentioned before gives her wonderful chemistry with Venom. It’s to the point where I seriously can’t imagine anyone wouldn’t feel a bit misty-eyed at her death scene, or the beautiful song her actress Stefanie Joosten sings over the credits of the episode Quiet dies in. She’s a bit much even for this series, but I think her relationship with Venom and her impact on him as well as how she fits thematically into the story more than makes up for any shortcomings she may have.

One of the MVPs of the game is undoubtedly Kaz, who got ridiculous amounts of characterization and some of the most iconic lines (“They played us like a damn FIDDLE!!!!”). He went from being something of a background character to almost the moral core of the game, the shoulder angel to Venom in contrast to Ocelot’s shoulder devil. Of course, much as everyone else, Kaz is consumed by revenge, which leads to him taking the final reveal of who Venom is and Big Boss’ betrayal of him rather badly, and any fan of the franchise knows how his desire to take down Big Boss goes. Still, his presence goes a long way towards making up for Ocelot’s shocking lack of presence; frankly, Ocelot in this game is a bit of a minor character, which on one hand is understandable as he’s only here to keep up appearances while the real Big Boss kickstarts Outer Heaven, but it’s kind of sad to see the guy who is perhaps the franchise’s greatest character take a backseat for vast chunks of the game, only chiming in now and again to give Venom some info or record a tape.

And then we come to the villains. Skull Face is a rather intriguing villain, who lives up to the hammy nature of past villains in the franchise; just see where he howls as Sahelanthropus is taken control of by Eli’s sheer hatred and, ahem, lust for revenge. Skull Face is just a wonderfully thematic villain, and while he is tragically cut down a bit earlier in the game than he should have been, his impact is still felt, as in a manner of speaking he is the reason for the events that plagued Solid Snake’s life due to his crippling of Zero with parasites. We also have some more minor villains, such as Eli (AKA Liquid Snake), Psycho Mantis as a kid, and the Man on Fire (which is actually the reanimated corpse of Colonel Volgin from Snake Eater. Sort of. It’s complicated). The more minor villains seem a bit excessive, especially seeing as the former two don’t actually get to have their arc in this game pay off in a meaningful way due to the Kingdom of the Flies portion unfortunately being cut, but they still lead to some entertaining and exciting moments, particularly young Mantis. Eli is really the only minor villain who feels like a missed opportunity, since all he really does is act like a haughty little brat and adds very little to the overall story, which is a shame considering who he grows up to become.

Of course, no discussion of evil in Metal Gear Solid V would be complete without mention of Huey, the father of Otacon. Huey is the complete and total antithesis to his son. Where his son took responsibility for things that were not even his fault up to and including his own rape, Huey deflects all blame and throws it onto others to make himself seem an innocent victim; where Otacon had the courage to face up to the horrors of the world, Huey chose to be a sniveling coward who hid behind anyone who offered him some semblance of safety; and where Otacon and Solid Snake were true companions and friends to the end who managed to raise a wonderful child together, Huey was an utter bastard who backstabbed his friends repeatedly and killed his own wife via inaction because she dared to stand up to him and not allow her child to be a battery for a Metal Gear. Huey is one of the most detestable, loathsome, and pathetic characters ever conceived in all of fiction… and I love him for it. He is just so void of any sort of redeeming quality that he becomes the poster child for “love to hate.” There is a beauty to a character like this, and it helps that he does get his comeuppance and he’s never shilled by other characters; in fact, not one of his so-called “friends” likes or even trusts him, and all of them think he’s a pathetic, delusional liar. He’s a nasty, spiteful, egomaniacal hypocrite, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.

Now I saved the story for last, mostly because the story is infamously a bit short and incomplete. Still, I feel a lot of the hate for the story is a bit unjustified; while it is true and incredibly frustrating that nothing involving Eli gets any payoff outside of descriptions of what would have happened, all of the story with Skull Face, Quiet, the parasites, Huey, and the side quest involving Paz are all rather engaging in that crazy Metal Gear way, and the prologue Ground Zeroes definitely helps to round things out. If we’re only counting the Solid games, I’d say this is at least as good story-wise as 2 in its own way; where that one is a much more cerebral story involving metatextual elements and deconstructs a lot of concepts, this game’s story is more of a showcase of the toxicity of revenge. Almost every character in the story – Venom, Kaz, Skull Face, Quiet, Eli, the Man on Fire, and Huey – has some desire for vengeance against those who have wronged them, some need to bring some semblance of closure… but it never comes. As is demonstrated in the scene where Skull Face dies, Kaz and Venom both realize that even if they killed Skull Face then and there, it wouldn’t bring back their dead comrades, it wouldn’t return the time they lost, it wouldn’t bring back their missing limbs. Ultimately, revenge is a bitter, futile waste that will only end up consuming and destroying, as it did to Skull Face, as it did to Huey, as it did to Quiet, and as it would do eventually to Kaz and Big Boss. In the end, all that has been done is that a cycle of violence has been perpetuated, and no one is better off for it.

While it’s obviously not the first story to use these concepts, I do like how it ties into the series. It all feels like it fits. Add in the fact that this game finally resolves some long-standing plot holes, such as how Big Boss survived Outer Heaven to end up in Zanzibar Land and how Kaz went from singing the praises of Big Boss to saying he was a monster who deserved death in Metal Gear 2, and while it is a technically incomplete story, it is most certainly a solid one that gives you just enough to think about that I can’t really see calling it “bad” as a logical statement. Could it have been better? Oh, absolutely. But is it still good on its own merits with a lot of standout moments due to the themes and the wonderful cast of characters? Absolutely.

I think the game’s true strength lies in its moments. This game contains some of the most powerful emotional beats in the entire series, hands down. The conclusion of Paz’s side quest, Quiet’s exit, Venom having to deal with a breakout of the parasite among his own soldiers… even if the overall narrative isn’t as cohesive as the four previous games, it still manages to pack so much emotion and power into some of its scenarios that you will feel something. The tapes too manage to be powerful and emotional, from Paz’s final “phantom” tape to Strangelove’s final moments recorded to Zero’s lament that he couldn’t ever apologize to Big Boss, there’s just so much to love here in terms of writing and emotion that I really don’t care about the main story being cut short a bit. It does suck, but I’m too busy sobbing over Quiet and Paz’s fates to really care about the fact I didn’t get to smack Eli upside the head one last time.

The Phantom Pain and Ground Zeroes are not perfect games, far from it. But they are good games, end even if a small part of the overarching story doesn’t get a satisfying conclusion, Most of the rest does, and there are so many powerful moments in here that it reminds you this series with its roid-raging nanomachine senators and gay vampires who can run on water and giant volcaloid AI robots can actually be poignant, heartfelt, and heartbreaking. It’s a fantastic game, and if you love the series you’ve likely already played it, but I definitely recommend it to anyone who hasn’t, though play through Snake Eater and Peace Walker first. It’s definitely worth your time, and far more rewarding than some have made it out to be.

[willfangirlforfood]

What’s Mine is yours chapter 6

Izuku spun to look at Katsuki, hands flying up to cover his mouth, eyes, if possible, wider than usual. In the past, Katsuki would have found the abject horror on the nerd’s face hilarious, but right now it was just another punch to the gut.

He watched Izuku flinch away from him. He watched the nerd’s head whip between the door that Todoroki just went through, and back to him. Watched the tears start to fill those big emerald eyes. Heard Izuku mutter an apology to him for 'what he had said.’

Before he could say a word, all he could see is green hair flying away from him and doors slamming between them. His hand dropped to his side, his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, still unable to get the words he knew he should have said out into the empty space the nerd used to occupy.

 Over the next few weeks, Katsuki noticed that things were, no pun intended, chilly between Izuku and his (other) soulmate. This did not make Katsuki feel better like he thought it should. A fact that frustrated Katsuki and made him even snappier and more waspish than he previously had been.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima was yelling at him as he got onto the bus to their licensing exam, and honestly, Katsuki couldn’t think of a better place to sit than with the rock. It was better than getting stuck with the spark plug, or invisibitch.

He flung himself into the seat and scooted over by the window. Kirishima then perched on the outside edge of the seat and Katsuki roughly jammed his headphones into his ears, pulling his hoodie over his head. He proceeded to stare broodily out the window for the entire trip to the arena.

 When the test began, Izuku immediately took charge, and because Katsuki found that new confidence incredibly, distractingly attractive, he decided to go off on his own. However, much to his chagrin, the electric wonder and Kirishima decided to follow him.

Katsuki also noticed that the Icy-Hot dweeb had decided to go off on his own as well instead of staying to assist his other half. Katsuki almost went back, but there was still way too much left unsaid there, and he was not up for hashing that out right at this moment.

To Katsuki’s eternal surprise, the only reason he and Kirishima passed the first part of the test was because of the moronic lightning rod, and as they entered the space for those who have passed, he searched the room for Todoroki and Izuku, finding them clustered with their other classmates. He breathed a sigh of relief.

That relief didn’t last long, because the next part of the test was starting, and Izuku was walking past him, shooting him a triumphant little grin. Katsuki’s brain was short-circuiting. Izuku turned that smile on Todoroki, and Katsuki’s brain was a tangle of red rage and green jealousy.

This was not good. Katsuki listened to the instructions that they were to save and triage the victims in this area. That they would be ranked on their ability to do so, but Katsuki could not get his brain to function enough to be civil to the examiners.

He was rude to two people who were pretending to be injured during the scenario. He was distracted and preoccupied during the fight with Gang Orca.

With all of this, plus his shortcomings in the first part of the test, he was only vaguely surprised at his failure to pass the test. What did surprise him was that he was going to be stuck in a make-up class with Todoroki.

How could the golden boy have failed? Were things really that bad with him and the nerd? Katsuki was proud of Izuku for passing. He could also see how the nerd was both euphoric about passing and heartbroken over whatever issues still existed between him and Todoroki.

Katsuki wasn’t sure what, if there was anything he could do, but he resolved that if he had to do these classes with the dual user, he was going to figure out how to fix his nerd while they are stuck together.

  On the first day of the class for those who failed the exam, Katsuki and Todoroki walked to the train together. They rode in silence, though Katsuki noticed that Todoroki never stopped staring at a photo of him and Izuku on his phone.

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the absolutely pining look on Todoroki’s face. “What’s up with you and the nerd?” he asked, trying to appear unconcerned and condescending, and apparently failing miserably, as Todoroki snorts.

“Subtle, Bakugo, real subtle.” He leaned his head back against the window of the train, scrubbing his hands over his tired eyes. “I suppose there is no reason NOT to tell you. Since you were right there for the beginning of it, eavesdropping and all.” Todoroki raised an eyebrow at Katsuki.

Katsuki refused to dignify this with a blush. He set his mouth into a snarl instead. “Yeah, I heard some. Why the HELL would you tell the nerd that I love him if you don’t plan on giving up on him?”

Todoroki smiled at him, “Izuku and I do not keep secrets from one another. Possibly to the detriment of our relationship,” he grimaces, ”but he deserved to know, and I deserved to know if I needed to worry.”

“The issue with the two of us now is that, as you heard, there is a reason for me to worry, and neither of us are sure what to do with that information.” He looked at Katsuki, laughing sardonically. “I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t want him to feel like something is missing. I want to be enough for him, but I know that you will always be there in his heart. I hate you for what you did to him, but I know that you are the thing that is missing for him.”

He laughed again. “Sometimes I think that sharing him is the only real way to make this whole thing work, but then we are back to the whole me hating you thing.” He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “Is that even allowed? He still doesn’t believe that you could ever love him, but if I could convince him of it, is it legal? Would it be enough for me to keep even a piece of him? Would it be enough for you?” He looked at Katsuki desperately, and Katsuki was again left speechless.

@nothinginthisblog @lefleurgalaxy @staelart @Nia-raritta @todorokitops @todsshi @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo

[nomanwalksalone]

A LIFETIME

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

One of the joys of custom clothing, they used to say, is that is supposed to last forever.  Any English teacher would immediately ask, who are “they”? The reassuring voice of others that lured us down this path, the sybarite chorus of lazy fashion journalists and bored copywriters, repeating every few articles or press releases the same tropes about a kind of clothing that had become both incredibly rare and, generally, deterrently expensive a few decades ago. So rare, so expensive, that they suggested any order of custom clothing was an epiphany of the classic, style as arbitrated by middle-aged men behind shears who would make your clothes last so long that your descendants would be wearing them, suitably nipped and tucked to fit their dimensions, but otherwise an enduring physical manifestation of the platonic ideal of the suit.

Custom clothing must be made to last a lifetime, or many lifetimes, the articles, tailor websites and PR pieces asserted, because why else would someone seek it out?  The default clothing choice was off-the-rack, seasonal fashion, and 16 years ago the suit was barely beginning its trip back to relevance.

I believed it. Consigning my very first bespoke suit last week made me think again about those beliefs, the expectations and assumptions I had when I began ordering bespoke clothing.  I’d found my tailor through his association with another, more well-known tailor, quickly submitting myself to his garrulous East London-accented phone calls where he cockily asserted that he’d still be tailoring for me in 30 years. I wanted a suit – one suit, I thought – that could be custom, with all the perfection of cut, style, construction, material and fit that that term connoted to me at that time.  One, I thought, and done: one suit for a workplace that was mostly business casual, that I could wear to important meetings or ceremonial occasions.

I was mostly wrong.  Wrong to think that custom means perfection, transformation or revelation, wrong to think one single garment could actually satiate, let alone saturate, my taste for the thing despite those failures, wrong to think I could get exactly what I wanted, wrong to think I knew what I wanted…

… And yet… When I thought this would be the one suit that I had made for me, I had thought so hard about all the baroque details I wanted it to have.  To his credit, the tailor had diplomatically explained why certain of my requests were impracticable, alpaca not being a common material in suit cloths, and tagua nuts (based on something in The Tailor of Panama, which I was reading around that time) a less suitable button material than honest horn from RJ Weldon.  An array of books of cloth swatches from mostly English-sounding companies I had never heard of overwhelmed me.  He steered me away from names I did know from their flashy ads, like Dormeuil or Loro Piana, to a cloth that really would be suitable for a garment that would last a lifetime: the mid-weight wools of the old, lamented H. Lesser, springy, sturdy, lustrous.  

I had to have a silk lining put in, even if I had read that flashy lining colors were quite not the thing. It took me over a decade to let my freak flag fly in the face of that imposed discretion.  I chose a dour burgundy colored silk for this suit’s lining in order not to seem gauche to those spectral judges whose articles I’d assimilated.  

I likewise tried to apply all the other things I thought I’d learned about button stance, “nipped in waists,” and all the rest in placing my order. The tailor, thank goodness, suggested I let him figure out where the buttons would be placed on the suit, as well as how defined he could make the waist of my suit, and all the rest. He gladly agreed to the other details I’d always wanted, like side adjusters on the trousers, double vents, plain trouser bottoms (no cuffs), slant pockets – all the things that to me at the time suggested bespoke and British.

It arrived about eight months after my order – several fittings later.  Whether a custom suit lasts a lifetime, its making can take ages in fashion terms, thanks to the time needed to make it, fit it and adjust it.  It used to be that even good tailors could make and fit a suit over the course of a week if a customer was in town and specially requested it.  There generally aren’t enough flexible free hands on staff to accommodate that now, at least not at a tailor I would trust.  And as I suggested, putting it on for the first time forced me to realize that there was no transformation, no immediate elimination of all my physical shortcomings and no phoenix-like rebirth of my best self from the ashes of the money I’d burnt.  No tailor can, really – particularly not at the first order.  It reflects what the tailor thought you wanted, and sometimes what you wrongly thought you wanted too.

It’s a hard reconciliation.  Maybe that’s why I kept trying, for a more perfect realization, getting the shoulders the way I wanted over a few more orders, the slant in the pockets pitched just right after a couple of extremes.  All the ridiculous pedantry that I thought custom was supposed to indulge.

A lifetime.  This suit had accompanied a significant part of mine, career moves that took me to business-formal environments that justified ordering more suits, and admissions to myself about what it was I really did want – in suits, in work, in life. Some of those clashed with each other, frankly.  Loving suits, I now think sadly, is as much a manner of loving our chains as liking nice briefcases.  But in a suit I love, I still feel greater, complemented by some extension of my best self.  

No longer do I really feel that way in this suit, though.  Not so much through its shortcomings, although most of us would find something we ordered 16 years ago a bit different from what we like now, to say nothing of a bit snugger.  It ran its course with me, and while it still fit, I no longer felt I had a place for it in my wardrobe.  I no longer wore it, because it no longer felt like me… beyond its warp and weft of nostalgia.  

So to a new owner, hopefully someone who can project his own thoughts, expectations, hopes onto this canvas, new to him, a respeaking, as my friend dirnelli might say.  After all, it has a lifetime in front of it.