#it’s not anyone’s fault. they’re just loud and obnoxious and give me opinions i never asked for

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (2)

May 1st, 2270

“Hello, Izuku.” “Hi, dad.” Izuku hadn’t exactly been dreading this conversation, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it either. He’d hoped his mom would do all the talking, having to break the news to his friends had been hard enough. For him. Most of them seemed to have gotten quite the kick out of it. “How are you? Your mother told me you’ve been having a rough couple of weeks.” “Mh.” “Still upset over that visit?” “Mh.” “Speak, son. Sulking doesn’t translate well over the phone.” His father chided gently.

Izuku sighed. “The doctor said I’m never going to get a quirk. I’m sorry.” “Whatever for? It’s not like you have any choice in the matter. Quirks are innate, surely you know that.” “Yes, I do.” Izuku said, staring at the paused frame of All Might’s debut video on the computer screen. The reflection of his own miserable face was superimposed with the triumphant silhouette of the hero. “But I’m sorry anyway. You have such a cool quirk… and mom’s useful too. I could become a great hero with one of them, but I’m never going to get any.” “Again, that’s none of your fault. And I wouldn’t be so sure of that anyway.” “Uh?” Izuku gulped, gripping the phone tightly. “Y-you don’t think I’d make a good hero?” “No, that’s not what I mean.” His father chuckled. “I mean that I wouldn’t lose hope just yet. You’re very young, there’s still plenty of time for your quirk to manifest.” “But the doctor said that all quirks appear before one is four years old. And I’m four. And I have the extra toe joint-” “Tsk! Some doctor they assigned you. As if one could unerringly guess the nature and development of something as unpredictable as a quirk with a single test. An x-ray, of all things. Ancient technology.” “The doctor said there was a study...” “I have an extra toe joint too, you know.” Izuku’s father laughed hearing his son’s surprised gasp. “Studies like the one your doctor mentioned draw conclusions based on the analysis of hundreds, thousands of cases. Those conclusions may hold true for the majority of them, but there are always outliers. Having that oh-so-precious joint and a quirk is indeed rare, but not unheard of.” “B-But…” Izuku’s eyes burned with the feeling of impending tears. He hadn’t expected his father’s reaction to be like this. No one had even remotely doubted the validity of the doctor’s opinion. No one. It almost hurt to hope. “I’m also too old…” “My own quirk didn’t show until I was… fifteen? Maybe sixteen. Way older than you are, anyway. Another important point to consider, don’t you think?” Izuku sniffled. Then cried, quietly. His father remained silent as the boy let the tears flow freely, wiping them on his arm now and then. There was a tangled ball of emotions deep in his chest, that he couldn’t quite unravel. After a couple of minutes though, the sobs abated and he felt better. Better than he had been feeling before his mom handed him the phone. “...Do you really think the doctor was wrong?” “You shouldn’t believe everything doctors tell you. My personal physician keeps calling me ‘the peak of biological and anthropological evolution’, but that’s because he’s been fishing for a raise for years. Clearly you’d expect a Darwinian champion to be able to walk under the sun without protection for more than five minutes without turning into a peeling tomato.” “Uh? Does that really happen to you?” “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that I’m albino? My skin is very sensitive to sunlight, and it burns easily. I have atrocious eyesight too.” “I didn’t know that.” Izuku winced in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.” “Not nearly as much as you think. I have plenty of skills and tools at my disposal to compensate. It isn’t an inconvenience at all these days, although it did cause me some grief when I was a child.” His father’s tone got softer. “Sometimes it does feel like our bodies are our own worst enemies, doesn’t it?” Izuku hummed in assent, very much agreeing with the sentiment. “I’m happy it doesn’t hurt you any more.” “And I’m glad you didn’t inherit this nuisance from me.” A sudden thought made its unwelcome way in Izuku’s head. “If… If I didn’t inherit your skin and eyes… maybe I won’t inherit your quirk either…” “Izuku.” His father’s tone was kind but firm. There were times when his presence, even just through his voice, felt way more real and solid than that of many people Izuku habitually shared a room with. “Your ability will emerge one day, I’m positive of that. Just give it time and don’t agonize over it.” Izuku nodded, even though he realized that wouldn’t translate well over the phone either. “...Okay.” “Now, what else have you been up to in this past month, other than brooding over a criminally incompetent diagnosis?” Not much, honestly, but Izuku told him anyway. As he kept chatting, his heart grew lighter than it had been in weeks. Mom did always say that his father was a good listener.

July 1st, 2272 “They were talking about it on TV yesterday. It’s an old incident from some years ago, before All Might met Nighteye!” “I see...” “Not many people know about it, because there’s no villain involved, and villains make all the stories more interesting! But it’s a great story nonetheless!” Izuku rattled on enthusiastically, taking advantage of his father’s unresponsive compliance. “Uh-huh...” “So this boy was having some big troubles, I think, and he jumped into a river because he didn’t know what to do about them. But luckily All Might was around! Do you know what he did?” “He offered to cover all the expenses for the years of therapy the boy would need afterwards?” “Uh… They didn’t say that on TV. I don’t know. I think he just rescued him from the river.” “That doesn’t seem to address the underlying problem.” His father commented icily. “Daaad, you’re ruining the story.” Izuku chided him. “Anyway, the funny part is that this boy had a quirk that could turn water into vinegar, and he activated it in a panic while he was drowning.” “Mh. A peculiar quirk...” “So All Might got all drenched in vinegar when he dove in to save him. He made this very silly face in front of the cameras, it was great! And when the boy apologized for causing trouble, guess what All Might told him?” “I’m sorry I’m the living embodiment of this unfair, hypocritical society that has driven you to the brink of despair?” “No. He said,” Izuku continued, breezing past his father’s petty remarks with practiced ease, “It is I who should thank you. My skin’s looking ten years younger now.” “Oh my God…” The man groaned, and a loud thunk-crash noise accompanied his words. “Oh, come on!” Izuku giggled, covering his mouth with his free hand. “It’s so funny!” “Just because they’re called ‘dad jokes’ doesn’t mean I’m legally obligated to laugh at them.” “But it is funny! All Might’s the funniest! Did you know that he just wrote a joke book? It’s called All Might’s Gags and Jokes: A Compendium. It already has amazing reviews! They say it’s warm and relatable and cy.. cyclical…” “He wrote a joke book. A veritable Renaissance man, this one...” His father muttered. Izuku heard something clink in the background. Probably the pieces of whatever his father dropped. “Mom says she’ll buy it for my birthday!” Izuku added, swinging his whole body on his chair in sheer excitement. “That is such a poor use of your remittance. I’ll need to have a couple of words with her…” “It’s for my education!” Izuku enunciated with solemnity, straightening his posture. “There’s a whole chapter of American puns and word plays! It will help me learn English!” “If you want to learn English on your own so soon, please choose a decent source. Start with basic grammar and alphabet books, watch some subtitled shows and movies to get the hang of the correct pronunciation-” “I’m learning a lot from All Might already! The catchphrase he used when he was in college in California was I am here! When he’s surprised, he says Oh my goodness! When he doesn’t believe something, he says Nonsense!” Izuku parroted, taking great care of imitating All Might’s confident, surprised and disbelieving expressions respectively. They would be lost on his father, but he needed to practice them anyway. “If that’s a good American accent, I’m the next Symbol of Peace.” “Dad.” Izuku said, suddenly very serious. He had a very important question to ask, and it had been a long time coming. “Why do you always make fun of him? It’s like… It’s almost like you don’t like him at all.” The words sounded so wrong he almost wasn’t brave enough to say them. Izuku would have been mortified if anyone had moved such an accusation on him. “I suppose he has a sort of… charisma about him.” His father admitted ruefully. “I can’t say it strikes any chords with me though.” “Are you just jealous of him?” Izuku asked shrewdly. “Kacchan also talks a lot of trash about All Might, but it’s obvious he’s just jealous. It’s all right if you are, though, I mean, he’s so-” “I’m this close to hanging up, Izuku.” “But- but how can you not like All Might?! Everyone likes All Might! Boys and girls, children and grown-ups! From age 0 to 100!” “...I guess I just don’t fit the target demographic then.” Izuku huffed. “You’re so boring, dad.” “Says the one who’s been talking my ear off about the same topic for the last forty minutes.” The boy frowned, nibbling at his lip. “...Sorry. Am I annoying you?” “I’ll admit I may have hit my monthly tolerance limit of All Might trivia. Don’t worry about it though.” Izuku did in fact stop worrying, his father’s amusement clearly detectable in his voice. “I think I’ll be able to bear with your unabashed enthusiasm until you hit your mandatory disillusioned teenage phase. Then we’ll see if that obnoxiously cheery act of his will still resonate with you.”

June 2nd, 2274 “His normal body temperature is about two degrees higher than the average. Around 38-39 °C.” “And what can you deduce from that?” Izuku’s father goaded. The boy stared at the scribbles in his notebook in deep thought. “Uhm… that it’s difficult to tell if he has a fever or not?” His father laughed, but not unkindly. “I wouldn’t think so. You just said yourself that that is his normal temperature. Therefore, I wouldn’t call Endeavor’s doctor unless his thermometer read more than 39.5 °C, probably.” “Right.” Izuku nodded. That was obvious, wasn’t it? Why hadn’t he understood that on his own? His father didn’t seem to mind his blunder though. “Try again.” “I think…” Izuku’s eyes were just about to bore a hole into his rough sketch of the hero’s costume. He gave up after the silence started to make him uncomfortable though. “...I don’t know. What can I deduce from that?” “Hm… You did bring up an interesting point. Do you know how fever works, Izuku?” “Yeah. Your body temperature rises when you’re sick. If it rises too much, you can get in serious trouble, you could even die. It never really gets that bad though.” “But why does it rise? What does your body accomplish by doing that?” “Uh…” Izuku frowned. He was sure he’d read or heard something about that, but the details escaped him at the moment. “To help you fight off the sickness, right? You feel worse at first, but it actually helps you get better.” “Exactly. Most bacteria and viruses that infect men thrive and multiply optimally at around 37 °C, which is the average person’s normal body temperature. But the growth of these microorganisms is hindered when the environment gets too hot. That is the principle that makes fever useful for humans. As your body gets hotter, it debilitates the invasors, so that your immune system can remove them more easily.” “..Oh.” It was a pity that his father called him only once a month, Izuku could have easily listened to him for hours every day. He always had so many interesting things to say about so many different subjects, and he always exposed them so neatly. “So. Can you deduce anything new now?” “Uh, uhm… He… I guess he...” Izuku snapped out of his reverie. Right, this was a conversation, not a lesson. He went over the new information in his head as quickly as he could. Higher temperature than normal... Fever... Microorganisms... Immune syst- Oh! “He heals quicker than- no, wait! He doesn’t get sick at all! Because he’s always too hot for the microorganisms! They can’t grow in his body!” “Excellent reasoning!” His father’s warm praise made Izuku’s chest swell with pride. “Obviously he isn’t completely immune to any and all infections, there are lots of exceptions to the mechanism I just explained to you. But yes, I do believe it’s safe to assume that our esteemed Flame Hero suffers from the occasional seasonal maladies far less often than the general population, if at all.” “That’s so cool…” Izuku immediately added the new data to his notes, almost breaking the tip of the pencil in his enthusiasm. “Is that what you wanted me to deduce? Or did you explain that just because I brought up the fever thing?” “I was actually thinking of something else. But, on second thought, it may be too technical a topic for an eight-year-old.” “...Can you tell me about it anyway?” “Of course.” Izuku would never not be grateful for the patience his father had, never denying him any clarification on anything. He was just about the only adult who never got tired of his questions. Even his mom sometimes hid her fatigue behind a mildly insincere I don’t know. “High heat isn’t exactly conductive to the activity of human cells either. That’s one of the reasons why you feel exhausted and achy when you have a fever, your body struggles to keep doing what it’s supposed to do above its normal temperature range. But Endeavor not only is at peak condition at 39 °C, he can also withstand open flames with a much higher temperature. This suggests that his cells must be fundamentally different from the average person’s on a biochemical level, that his quirk must provide some particularly efficient cellular mechanism to prevent heat damage. One example might be some dedicated enzymes to protect proteins from denaturation, but now I’m entering mere speculation.” A pause. “Did you follow me?” “...Kind of.” Izuku said, kind of lying but not entirely. He had followed most of that. He scrawled and circled a couple of terms he hadn’t grasped - Biochemical - Enzymes - Denaturation - on the page. He didn’t want to waste his father’s time by asking him to explain the meaning of words he could easily look up later on his own. “The gist of it is that Endeavor’s Hellflame has at least two facets. Not only ‘creating fire’, but also ‘not incinerating himself’. The first trait would be a fatal liability without the second.” “Got it!” Izuku cheered. Now that he had understood completely. “You sure know a lot about quirks, dad! Like, a lot! About anything, really!” “For the sake of intellectual honesty, it must be said that it isn’t difficult to impress a primary schooler.” His father laughed. “I’m just older than you.” “How much older?” Izuku asked, realizing for the first time that no one had ever told him his father’s age. “Oh, by a lot. Centuries.” Izuku cackled. “You can’t be that old. You still go to work. Our neighbors are 80 and they’re already retired.” “I do try to keep a youthful outlook on life. But yes, quirks fascinate me quite a bit. And they make for the perfect topic to distract you from your incessant yapping about All Might.” “Speaking of All Might-” “No, I-” His father sighed theatrically. “I just walked into this one, didn’t I?” “Yep.” Izuku grinned. “What about his quirk? Do you know anything about it? He never gives straight answers when people ask him about it…” “That may be the single sign of intelligence he’s ever displayed. The more your enemies know about your quirk, the easier it is for them to find your weaknesses. I’m surprised the other pro heroes aren’t as reserved.” “I wonder why All Might does that, though. His quirk is… pretty obvious.” Izuku pondered. “It just makes him strong. Very strong. Like, the strongest ever. But that’s it.” “Allegedly, yes. But as you noticed yourself, if raw power was all there was to it, there would be no reason to skirt around the issue in interviews, no?” “So there must be something else… What do you think it might be?” “I think it would be no less than cruel to deprive you of the thrill of carrying out your own research.” Izuku let out a dissatisfied moan, and his father chuckled. “You are already so very proficient at it. Your mother told me you’ve already filled a whole notebook with hero and quirk analyses.” “Oh, ehr… It’s just stuff I read here and there…” “Mh, I’ve heard enough of your ‘stuff’ to know that there’s more than random factoids in that head of yours. In fact…” Izuku felt his cheeks warm for the compliment. “I think you’ve gotten old and judicious enough to be trusted with my emergency number.” “Uh? What emergency number?” “It’s a phone number I’ll always answer to, on any day and at any hour, in case you may find yourself in a bad situation. Hopefully you’ll never need it, but better safe than sorry. Now…” His father’s voice raised slightly, drowning out Izuku’s impending interruption. “Can I rely on the fact that you are aware that desperately wanting to tell me that All Might saved a kitten from a meteor does not qualify as an emergency?” Izuku pouted. “I know what an emergency is, dad.” “Good. Ask your mother to give you the number then. Don’t save it on your phone or write it anywhere. Memorize it, and be responsible with it.”

December 3rd, 2275 Sorry for the long silence. I had an accident on the job and I won’t be able to speak clearly for a while. We can talk with the included devices. Use your ring finger to activate them. Usual days, usual hours. Hisashi That short note held the first words Izuku had received from his father in the last five months. The first month he hadn’t phoned, Izuku had felt slightly disappointed, but understanding. His father was a busy man, surely something very important must have been requiring his full-time attention. It was fine, Izuku was confident he could manage to sweet-talk him into a double-length call the following month to make up for that. The second month, he had started to worry. His mother hadn’t heard from his father either. It was unprecedented not to hear from him for such a long time. Since Izuku could remember, his father had never skipped one of their monthly calls. They often talked on the first day of every month, and he kept trying to contact them exactly once each following day if his calls were missed. He never failed to reach them past the third day. He always called from a hidden number, so trying to get hold of him was not an option. The third month, Izuku’s mother had decided to use the emergency number. She hadn’t been able to get through to her husband, but the polite colleague of his who had picked up had reassured her that he was indisposed but overall fine, and would get in touch with them as soon as possible… which could still take a while. Curiously, the coworker had also instructed them to collect a sample of their fingerprints and send them to a specific address. Izuku had been mystified by the request, but his mother had readily agreed, commenting that it was “not the strangest thing Hisashi’s ever asked for”. The silent wait that followed had been a little uneasy, but not harrowing. Izuku and his mother reread the message a couple of times before opening the box they’d just been delivered. Inside were only the two mentioned devices with their respective chargers, snuggled among waterproof packaging and stuffing. They looked very much like ordinary mobile phones, except they had no buttons or ports on any side. Some quick experimentation proved that they could be turned on simply by pressing the indicated finger on the touchscreen. The display showed a very minimalistic chat interface, with a fixed red dot on the top left corner. No amount of tapping on the screen could bring up the virtual keyboard though, which was puzzling. There was no way to access the rest of the phone’s functions, if it even had any. It was the third day of the month, so technically still within the familiar communication window. Izuku kept poking and prodding at the buttonless phone for the whole afternoon until eventually, shortly after dinner, the red dot at the top of the chat became green. A minute later, a message popped up. Hello, Izuku. Izuku almost dropped his cup of hot chocolate in excitement, which was quickly replaced by frustration because he still couldn’t type anything in any way. How was he supposed to- Speak. I can hear you. “...Oh! Nice!” Izuku exclaimed. “Hi, dad! How are you? What happened?” I’ve been better. I got decked by a hysterical ape. Izuku frowned. “That’s not funny. Mom and I were very worried.” That wasn’t really a joke. What? What even- “...How? Did you break into a zoo or something…?” Sorry, you’re right. Let me rephrase. I had a violent disagreement with a brute. “Oh…” Izuku was about to ask for further explanations but he waited. The three bouncing dots at the bottom of the screen signalled that his father was still writing. We will have to communicate like this for a while. I hope it isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you. Judging by how long it took him to type even the shortest messages, Izuku thought it was going to be much more of an inconvenience for his father. He felt sorry for him. “No, not all. Is it… is it really bad? Shouldn’t you come home so we can help you get better? It sounds like you won’t be able to work anyway…” I’ll receive better medical treatment here, and I can still get some work done while I recuperate. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll recover fully sooner or later. Izuku picked at the lint of his blanket, choosing his words carefully. “You could… come home anyway. Even if you could work. When you’re feeling a little better. So we could spend some time together.” The three bouncing dots reappeared, but Izuku kept talking. He already knew what his father’s answer was going to be, but he wanted to take advantage of the delay to get a few more words in. “Some of my friends have parents that work far from home too. They’re away a lot, but… they do come back to visit sometimes. Usually for the holidays. At least… At least once.” At least his friends had actually met their fathers once in their whole lives, Izuku completed only in his head. You know how things stand. My job doesn’t afford me this kind of free time. “...What do you even do that won’t let you ever do anything?” Izuku muttered, out of sheer petulance. That was another familiar point of contention, to which his father replied with the same, word-for-word justification he always used. Every detail concerning my activities is classified by the government. We’ve been over this. Don’t be childish. And that was usually the end of it. Any further questioning after the ‘classified’ thing invariably turned Izuku’s father into a slippery wall of smooth deflections. But, considering the current situation, Izuku felt like he could get away with a little more nagging, if he played his cards right. “I know you can’t say anything. But how about…” He physically leaned forwards, trying not to let his tension seep through his voice. “How about I try to deduce something? About your job. Just… for fun.” No new message showed up, not even the typing dots. Izuku decided that it was as much of an approval as he was going to get, so he started to voice his thoughts as they formed. “...Your job is classified by the government. So it’s important, very important, so important that other people can’t know about it.” When he was very young, Izuku had obviously interpreted it as irrefutable proof that his father must be some sort of secret agent. He had exposed his conclusion to Kacchan and his gang once. They had… not-so-respectfully disagreed. Izuku had never brought up the matter with them afterwards. “Your note said that you got hurt on the job. So someone you know from work punched you so hard that, even after five months, you still can’t talk well.” Izuku paused. That was… a scary idea. It dawned on him, for the first time since the beginning of this whole ordeal, that his father may have really dodged a bullet there. What kind of a brute could possibly want to injure someone that much…? Surely a criminal… A villain, maybe…? “Your job is dangerous, and it leaves you almost no free time. It also pays well.” That last item was admittedly a shot in the dark, Izuku didn’t really know much about money handling. But he had noticed that his mother never denied him a gift or a treat on the grounds of its cost (his vast collection of All Might memorabilia was a testament to that), like so many of his friends’ relatives were wont to do. She didn’t need a job herself, and Izuku remembered overhearing a conversation she had with Kacchan’s mom where she had said that they were ‘well provided for’. “You know a lot about a lot of stuff, especially about quirks and heroes. You know a lot of things about quirks and heroes that I couldn’t find anywhere on the internet.” Izuku paused, racking his brain for anything else that stuck out. Before he could come up with more points to make, his father finally wrote back. You sure put some thought into this. I’m impressed. The lack of reprimands was an encouragement in its own right. Now came the hard part. These were all facts that he already knew, now he had to put them together… and no matter how much he tried to come up with different possibilities, there was only one explanation that rang true in Izuku’s mind. “Dad… are you some sort of… undercover hero?” Izuku waited with baited breath for the dancing dots to turn into a complete message. Definitely not. ...Aw, shoot. Although I guess I do happen to deal with heroes quite often in my line of work. Izuku gasped. That was the first real piece of information his father had ever shared with him about his job! And wow, he worked with heroes! And whatever support he lent them had to be pretty vital if he was always so busy and tight-lipped. “So you’re like… a policeman? An informant that tracks down villains for the heroes to catch? Or an engineer bound by trade secret? Or-” Enough, Izuku. I’m supposed to be resting. I don’t think being given the third degree by my own son counts as such. Izuku deflated. So close to the truth, and yet so far… Maybe he could manage to get some other clue out of his father later. But… there was one more thing he simply had to ask. “...Have you ever met All Might?” I’m just going to ignore you after this. Well, it had been worth a try. Izuku finally relented, reasonably satisfied with the result of his investigation. “Okay, okay. Sorry. No more questions. And no All Might stuff. Not that I have much to tell you about him. He hasn’t really been around lately.” Hasn’t he, now? Uh, odd. It wasn’t like his father to miss an opportunity to dodge All Might gossip. Izuku supposed there’d be no harm in taking advantage of this atypical spark of curiosity. “Yeah. It’s been like this for a few months. Rumors say he’s abroad, working on some large scale mission. Something very secret, that’s why there are no articles on him in newspapers from other countries either.” I wasn’t aware of this. That’s very interesting. Although I couldn’t imagine anyone less suited to hushed-up operations. Izuku couldn’t help but snort. In light of the recent revelation, he wondered if his father was so unapologetically critical of All Might because he had worked with him and they hadn’t gotten along… which seemed kind of impossible. How could All Might be the unpleasant type of coworker? Or maybe his father really was just jealous because he couldn’t work with All Might often enough. A sudden thought occurred to the boy. “...Sorry, I guess you don’t want to hear about hero stuff now that you’re, uh… on forced vacation.” Actually, I’d love to. I’ve been a little out of the loop lately, I need to catch up with the news anyway. Fire away all the information you have. Izuku smiled. “Even about All Might?” Especially about All Might.

[thehollowprince]

Exact same thing happens with Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale and Derek Hale (to a slightly lesser extent). Stans swear they love them but proceed to ignore their flaws and ignore 90% of canon. They even give Stiles Scott's personality in most fic, give Peter Deaton's role while saying Deaton is an evil bastard, froze Derek in his season 1-2 development and made him even *more* of a brooding caricature. Like, sis, at that point, just make OCs lol

Yeah. I never understood that whole phenomenon.

You go into a fandom and see characters like Stiles, or Tony Stark, or Kylo Ren, or Snape and Draco or Peter and Derek or virtually any conventionally attractive white man in a show/movie/book/comic/etc. and they're all presented as these uwu soft boys with horrible backstories, often times drastically exaggerated or even outright fabricated, that are usesld as an excuse for every bad thing, or even mildly inconvenient, they do so that we as the audience know that its "not their fault".

But then you go an actually engage with the canon source material and they're nothing like how the fandom portrays them.

I am so lucky that I had actually watched Teen Wolf before I ventured into the fandom, because if it had been the other way around, I'd have been confused as to why Scott seemsd to be the center of the show and not Stiles, or why the grumpy looking muscle man was constantly putting the moves on a teenager.

Hell, even having watched the show first I was thrown off because you go into fandom and the characters are nothing like their canon counterparts. The worst was the fandom literally stripping everything about Scott that made him Scott and just draping it over Stiles in a totally unsubtle attempt to let everyone know who they thought should be the real protagonist of the show.

The "Stiles in Scott's clothes" trope that permeated the fandom was particularly obnoxious to me because these are the same fans (usually Sterek shippers) who go out of their way to let you know they the reason they didn't like Scott was because he was "so boring". They don't like how he always has to be the good guy in every situation and he should be darker and blah blah blah. But then these very same people turn around and give all of the attributes they just claimed to hate about Scott and bedazzle Stiles with him before singing his praises. The Stiles of canon is this loud, brash, sarcastic smartass who has an inability to shut his mouth even in the the direst of situations, but the Stiles of fanon is this uwu soft boy who speaks five languages and cooks for his poor dad while struggling with his own eating disorder while being unable to sleep because of his ADHD and always having to do all the research for everyone and juggling all of his advanced classes and struggling with his attraction to an older guy while dealing with "Scott's homophobia" and.... it just goes on and on and on.

They go out of their way to create this fantastical character that doesn't at all resemble the canon Stiles in any capacity except for physical appearance, and even then that's suspect, because while Dylan O'Brien is six foot tall and decently built, the fanon version of Stiles is this perpetually smol child who wears skinny jeans and is dwarfed by Derek.

This just goes to further show that most of them view Stiles as some sort of self-insert character, which is made even weirder by the fact that so many of them are women (not all of them, but most of them). They twist canon so much to create these little scenarios for whatever fantasy they've concocted in their head that at some point the question has to be asked of not only whether or not they've actually watched the show, but if they don't enjoy anything about it that actually happens, then why are they so invested in it. It costs literally nothing to just create one's own original characters where they can say "hey, I picture this character as being played by Dylan O'Brien".

And this way, they can create their elaborate fantasies without going out of their way to twist canon and try to paint Stiles as a saint and Scott as a devil. The racist implications aside, this way they could stop erasing the character of Scott from his own narrative and maybe stop trying to smear Posey at every opportunity, or sending death threats, and all the other horrible stuff they've flung his way as if under the impression that if Tyler's doing well, then somehow that means Dylan isn't.

And that's just Teen Wolf!

How many shows or movies or comics have devolved into this giant fandom mess because of contradicting opinions regarding characters in canon and then the fanon versions that large parts of the fandom prefer? How many fandoms have devolved into a civil war because of a deliberate misappropriation of a character or characters?

I've watched as Tyler Lockwood was painted as a vicious animal in the TVD fandom so that they could prop up Klaus and make Klaroline more plausible. I've watched as Tony stans have bent over backwards to absolve Tony of every bad thing he's ever done, either intentionally or through negligence, while simultaneously condemning Steve as some kind of imperialist warlord because he wears a costume with the American flag on it. I've watched as Star Wars "fans" have stripped Finn of his entire identity - his backstory as a brainwashed child in the First Order, his exceptional Force-sensitivity, his relationships with Rey and Han - and give it all to Kylo Ren to create this Ben Solo persona.

This happens in every fandom in some form or another.

And I know someone must be reading this asking themselves what all this has to do with the original ask, and while I might have gotten a little sidetracked, the point is right there. So much of fandom discourse happens because there are those vocal members of said fandom that go out of their way to antagonize those who actually like the canon material, trying to push their fanon as what really happens, and it always devolves into this back and forth that generally ruins the enjoyment that most people get out of it.

It's a question that after all my years in fandom I still can't answer: if anyone dislikes a particular show or book or movie or whatever, to the point that they completely disregard canon, then what about it keeps them there? That's bordering on hate-watching and that sounds so sad.

[beybladeimagines]

Hi :-) I just wanted to say I’m really glad you’re back! I’ve always been a secret admirer of your headcanons as they’re not only very well written, but in my opinion prove that you have a really good understanding of the characters! Two requests (out of which you can either do both or whichever you like best :-D): 1.) What character traits would the Blitzkrieg Boys look for in a girlfriend? 2.) How would they behave watching Disney movies and what would be their favorite Disney movie(s)?

MOD TALKS: EFHWIUEHFE THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! Really, those words keep me so motivated and I’m so happy to write for such kind and beautiful souls like you. Thanks for giving me so many exciting things to write about. If it’s cool, I’m going to answer the first prompt, just because I wrote a lot for it already, but I’m totally down to answer the second prompt in another ask! :)

WHAT CHARACTER TRAITS DO THE BLITZKRIEG BOYS LOOK FOR IN A GIRLFRIEND?

TALA: The number one thing he looks for is patience. He needs someone that will allow him to open up at his own pace, but also… Because love is, quite literally, a newfound feeling for him, he needs someone that will give him enough time to really understand what that feeling entails and how that feeling should be expressed. He doesn’t want someone to constantly nag him to take him somewhere or to fight with him about his inability to say more about himself. When he’s confronted like that, it only encourages him to continue shutting them out. He is very cautious and he thinks that trust is something that is built rather than instantly extended. 

In addition, he looks for loyalty. Loyalty doesn’t just mean being exclusive with him (although he prefers exclusivity entirely), it means sticking with him through thick and thin. It means being there, even when it’s hard for both parties. It means being persistent, never letting go, and being willing to work through hard times. He knows he’s not the easiest person to get along with or work with, but when he’s dedicated to someone, he tries and he expects them to really try too.

He prefers really chill or calm souls. He doesn’t like when people ask him too many questions, or when they’re loud, or when they’re obnoxious. Yes, he tolerates Bryan and Tyson, but they have different impacts on his life and play drastically different roles. He doesn’t mind being with someone that encourages him to step out of his comfort zone, but he prefers if that encouragement isn’t…eccentric. It’s totally possible to be chill, but also outgoing. You don’t have to be quiet for him to be into you. Rather, he just prefers not to deal with a lot of constant high energy. He prefers to be around someone who’s considerate of his emotional and mental availability. He struggles to meet high energy folks at the level they’re at, unless he gets to be snarky or sarcastic.

He likes wise and outspoken personalities. What I mean by this, is he likes people who speak with a purpose. He likes people who sound knowledgeable and give advice (good advice, btw) when it’s needed and called upon. He likes people who are ready to call others out on their bullshit, even his own. Although he doesn’t like to be confronted with his faults, someone who speaks wisely will structure the statement in such a way that it doesn’t feel like an attack. He likes someone who contributes to a conversation in a meaningful manner. He’s never been the type for mindless chatter, but if someone asks him a very insightful question, he’ll feel more inclined to entertain them with a few words.

BRYAN: He looks for someone with an open mind and free spirit. Unlike his teammates, Bryan likes to try new things (and likes to try them with new people). He doesn’t like sitting still and doesn’t mind doing something that might make him uncomfortable. He likes breaking out of his shell. Granted, this is probably because he needs constant distractions to avoid confronting his internalized trauma, but at least he’s getting himself out there. Bryan has always done these “new things” alone, but he’d love to have someone by his side that’s willing to be just as weird, crazy, dangerous, and reckless with him. He looks for someone that just wants to have a good time. In other words, he needs someone to be his escape.

Bryan also likes someone that’s responsible. “But J… Didn’t you just say he likes someone that’s reckless with him?” Yes, BUT… He knows that being reckless isn’t always good for him. Problem is, he’s not very good at stopping himself. His conscious is almost nonexistent, and he needs a person to really put him in his place. It’s not that he’s looking for someone to constantly scold him. Rather, he needs someone to tell him why something isn’t a good idea, what bad things will happen, and what he has to lose. Responsibility, and the fact that it’s exuded onto him, tells him that person is genuinely concerned for him. Aside from his boys, he’s never really had someone care about him. So… The fact that his partner does just really hits him hard and will instantly make him change his mind about doing something stupid.

He looks for someone that’s brave. Let’s not confuse this with recklessness. When thinking about the word “brave” to him, brave is someone that’s willing to endure all the trials and trauma that unfortunately follows him. Sometimes, things just happen to him that he didn’t ask for. Sometimes, he cracks and finds unhealthy ways of coping, because he’s terrified and doesn’t know how to deal with certain issues head on. He’s looking for someone who isn’t scared…or, if they are, they don’t show it. When they’re brave during chaos, it means that it’s totally possible for him to overcome something. He just needs that hope. He wants to find it in his partner.

He likes resilience. Resilience doesn’t necessarily mean that someone is tough all the time. It’s okay to crack or break. Rather, he needs someone that can endure his stupid jokes and the occasional dumb (and potentially hurtful) comments he extends. He has no idea when he’s being an idiot. To be resilient means they don’t crack before him. They put him in his place when he needs to know that he’s being foolish. He likes seeing someone who’s strong. He doesn’t mind being with someone who can kick his own ass too. But if they were constantly fragile… He has no idea how to fix it. He just looks for someone who can take a hit and hit back even harder.

SPENCER: He looks for someone that’s youthful or cheerful. Despite his stoic and tough exterior, Spencer yearns for softness. He yearns for something gentle. He yearns for something that pushes through pain. He looks for someone that isn’t afraid to laugh or smile. In fact, he loves loud laughs the most, because it shows that the person isn’t afraid to be happy. He likes people who unashamedly express their emotions, because he doesn’t have to try to decipher them or read them. Cheerful doesn’t have to mean blindly happy. Who the fuck is happy all the time? Impossible. Rather, he just loves people who allow him to get a glimpse of their unfiltered elation. He wants to be part of that. He wants to ignite that. He wants to be the reason someone smiles. He’s a sucker for someone’s smile. It’s probably the first thing he falls for.

He loves high energy. His friends have always been reserved with their emotions. Even Bryan. Bryan just hides his true self all the time. But anyway. High energy folks aren’t afraid to let him know how they feel. They always want him involved, they’re always willing to be around him, they’re always down to talk, and he likes how warm and inviting they are. He has no qualms with being pushed out of his comfort zone. In fact, he thinks it’s kind of hot when someone, especially a woman, takes charge and wants him to do something specific. Additionally, he likes people who are spontaneous and adventurous, because it just gives him more stuff to look forward to. Like they constantly surprise him.

He likes someone who knows what they want and aren’t afraid to take control. Spencer can be rather passive. He does take control when he feels like his friends are in danger, but for the most part, he prefers if someone else has a plan. When it comes to love, Spencer is a people pleaser. He might not know exactly what he’s doing, but he tries. He likes someone who will flat-out tell him what he should do to make them feel good and he’ll execute that desire so swiftly and so well. In addition, he appreciates the confidence that comes with being able to take control. He likes someone who’s able to come up with a plan on the spot and can tell it like it is. He doesn’t really like vagueness or someone who’s indecisive. He’s very much attracted to fast-paced people and fast-paced environments.

Spencer also looks for someone who’s willing to grow. Most people are set in their ways, but sometimes…they’re in need of further developing aspects of themselves. Spencer is the type that’s mostly down for anything and he expects his partner to be too. He knows he’s not perfect, he knows he has his own healing to do, but he wants someone to be able to grow with him. He looks for someone that actually listens to the advice he gives and actually follows it. He looks for someone with great communication and active listening skills. Someone who responds to what he says without rolling their eyes. He needs someone who takes the relationship seriously. Sure, he appreciates a playful personality, but sometimes they need to really embrace those serious moments.

IVAN: He’s attracted to spitfire personalities. I mean, he really loves someone who’s outgoing, passionate, exciting, playful, and eccentric. He also appreciates anyone that’s witty, sarcastic, and can roll with the punches. Aside from Bryan, Ivan probably has the most personality in the group. He needs someone he can exchange energies with, someone who can respond quick to his snarky retorts, someone who can put him in his place, and someone who can make him laugh in the process. He really likes someone with a lot of life, because god knows that his time is absent of it.

He looks for someone who’s supportive. When Ivan got replaced by Kai, he truly believed he was expendable. That moment solidified how he thought about himself. He looks for someone that’ll tell him otherwise. Supportive people won’t always confirm the thoughts in your head. He needs someone that will be there for him. Sometimes, he’s caught up in situations that he THINKS he has control over and sometimes he thinks he’s responding appropriately when really…he’s feeding into an unhealthy perception of himself. He looks for someone that will snap him out of his self-deprecation, someone who realizes that things aren’t right and is willing to be there to help him work through that.

In addition, he looks for someone that’s loyal. Ivan himself is as loyal as they come. He welcomed back his team with open arms when they returned. He needs someone who is willing to be exclusive with him and see him as their one and only. He doesn’t want to be seen as expendable anymore. He wants someone who validates him and reminds him that he’s someone worth hanging on to. To be fair, he’s pretty tough and he doesn’t always take things personally, but once he comes across someone that’s like, “hey… you’re great and I don’t think people tell you that enough” it will blow his fucking mind.

He looks for people that are engaging and involved. Ivan doesn’t like to sit still. He likes people who want to include him in their shenanigans. Hell, he even likes it when people simply invite him to go to the store with them. He likes someone who wants him to hang out with them or their friends. He likes someone who constantly wants to go somewhere to try something new or exciting. He likes someone who’s a real social butterfly, someone who isn’t afraid to meet new people and to befriend them. He likes someone who’s active in friendships, relationships, in the community, in their family… To him, that kind of personality lets him know that the person is really down to create connections, maintain them, and make them enjoyable.

KAI: Like Tala, he looks for someone that’s patient. Kai doesn’t open up to just about anyone… In addition, he really hates it when people try to tell him what to do. He doesn’t like standards, he doesn’t like expectations, and he doesn’t like to feel forced. He gets that people want him around or want him to be involved, but that only causes him to feel annoyed and overwhelmed. He constantly needs space from people and he needs someone that understands that. It’s not that Kai wants to be completely closed off. Rather, he needs someone that understands that he does things at his own pace. He needs time to really analyze someone in order to be mindful of their intentions. He looks for someone who lets him be himself and someone who doesn’t interfere with his goals. 

Kai looks for someone who’s honest. He doesn’t like someone who hides their true feelings, intentions, or self. He doesn’t really like people-pleasers, because they’re only doing what they do for someone else’s approval. He likes someone who isn’t afraid to say, “hey, what you said was fucked up” or “hey, that doesn’t sound like a good idea - here’s why.” Honesty isn’t the same as forcing an opinion. He actually doesn’t mind hearing what others have to say, so long as they aren’t forcing him to abide by the same philosophy. When someone is honest, it just means he doesn’t always have to be on his toes when he’s around them. If someone is honest, he’s way more relaxed and doesn’t have to wonder if there’s a hidden meaning behind some of their actions.

He prefers people who can bite back. Although Kai has a very dominant personality, he doesn’t really like when people just…give in to his commands or expectations. Although he appears annoyed when people question him or doubt him, he likes the challenge. Although blatant disrespect is a turn off, he likes people who motivate him to “work for it” or give him some perspective. He also finds it incredibly sexy when someone is able to by witty or quick with their responses. Try not to confuse wit with insults. He looks for someone who’s able to convey a sense of confidence and intelligence with their remarks. Why? Well. He likes being able to bring others down a peg, but not so easily.

He looks for someone who doesn’t give up. It’s okay to be hard on yourself - we all are, but it’s also possible to pick yourself back up. He’s attracted to people who know what they want and work hard to get it. He’s basically the same way and likes seeing people who are just as driven. When people have their own goals, they’re less inclined to interfere with his own. Additionally, if someone isn’t willing to give up on their goals, then that also means they aren’t willing to give up on him. He knows he’s got his own shit to work through and that it’s going to take time. He also knows he needs time to open up. He needs someone around that won’t give up on him, even when he’s at his lowest. Determination like that is sometimes really hard to come by.

[fire-emblem-heroes-supports]

Takumi/Rhea C-A Support

A/N: Possible content warning for Takumi’s description of his nightmares. Nothing terribly graphic (here) but see here for context if you’re concerned.

Written by @sharyrazade

C SUPPORT

Takumi: [notices woman vocalizing] (Huh, Azura sounds different. Does she have a cold or something?)

Takumi: [following garden path] Azura! Is that you?

[Takumi approaches “Azura’s” general direction.]

Takumi: [not looking closely] That’s an interesting song, Azura. I’ve never heard you-

Rhea: [notices Takumi] Oh! Hello, young man.

Takumi: [somewhat embarrassed] Oh, sorry! I thought you were someone else!

Rhea: [smiles gently] Pay it no mind, child. I do not believe we have met before.

Takumi: Of course! Were are my manners? My name is Takumi, prince of the Kingdom of Hoshido.

Rhea: You may call me Rhea. In my own world, I am the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros.

Takumi: Hmm, that’s interesting. Back home, we have plenty of priests and monks, but no archbishops. I guess whoever is on the throne serves a lot of the same purposes, but no bishops.

Rhea: Your homeland sounds just fascinating to me. Would you mind if we discussed your country and its religious practices sometime?

Takumi: Not at all! In fact, I could probably talk about it all-

[Hinata and Oboro appear]

Hinata: Lord Takumi! Finally, we found you!

Oboro: Lady Azura was actually in the library. You know how quiet she can be.

Rhea: [smiles] These two are just delightful. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.

Takumi: Oh, yeah! These are Hinata and Oboro. They’re probably the best retainers anyone could ask for.

Rhea: It is a joy to meet you both.

Oboro: [stammers and blushes slightly]

[Hinata simply stares in awe at Rhea, mouth slightly agape.]

Takumi: Staring like that is very rude, Hinata. You were raised better than that!

Rhea: Pay it no mind. It was a pleasure speaking with you all.

[Rhea leaves.]

Hinata: [watching Rhea as she walks away] Damn!

Oboro: (She’s almost as gorgeous as Lord Takumi!)

Takumi: [sighs] I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank C.]

B SUPPORT

[On the archery range, the Summoner can be seen/heard fighting with an even more sour-than-usual Garon, waving Breidablik threateningly in the faces of Iago and Hans.]

Summoner: And didn’t I ban your goons from this place already?!

Garon: Hmph. You tolerate that one mad dog of a wyvern rider. I fail to see the difference. And you common rabble call us hypocrites!

Summoner: Yes, “tolerate!” But “tolerate” and “enjoy having around” have entirely different meanings! Do you have any idea how much effort it is keeping him away from Erika?! Or to keep Ephraim away from him in return?!

[One of the Fujin Yumi’s bolts misses the target completely, said target pockmarked with random marks- none of them at the center unusually.]

Takumi: [listlessly draws back the Fujin Yumi’s string, his focus seeming somehow impaired.]

Rhea: [approaches him from behind] Er…Prince Takumi…?

Takumi: [jolts to face her, looking noticeably fatigued.] What?! Oh! I’m sorry. It’s only you.

Rhea: [wearing a concerned expression] Are you alright? You look as though you slept poorly. Is something bothering you?

Takumi: [shortly] I did and no, nothing’s bothering me.

Rhea: If you’re certain.

Takumi: So what did you need, Archbishop?

Rhea: No need to be so formal. Rhea is fine. I simply wished to continue our conversation about your home and their faiths from the other day. If you’re not too busy, of course.

Takumi: Oh, of course! Well, where I come from, pretty much everyone has their own choice of god or exact practices, but nearly all of us worship the First Dragons in some capacity. The royal families of Hoshido and Nohr are even said to have been granted their blood as a symbol of their respective pacts.

Rhea: Interesting. Very interesting. (I knew it! I told Seteth it was not simply a hunch!)

Takumi: [glances sideways at Garon being yelled at by the Summoner] But about the Nohrians…they’re supposed to worship the same gods as everyone else on the continent, but…

Rhea: But what?

Takumi: I can’t put it into words that well…they’re just weird about it. I know, I know. Everyone says that about ways of doing things that aren’t their own, but those people just have a lot of weirdness surrounding the way they look at the world.

Rhea: Come now. I’m sure they cannot be that strange.

Takumi: Well, I could look past the Nohrian custom of giving three greetings or goodbyes, it’s not THAT strange. The fact that the Nohrian breeds of chickens are known to be paranoid and aggressive to the point of attacking people in flocks is a little interesting. Their strong taboo against wearing green to births, weddings, or funerals is pretty strange too. But it’s definitely weird for a country that’s about a third mountains and another third forests to have a strong aversion to, even contempt, for trees over a certain height.

Rhea: Is it…a specific type of tree, perhaps?

Takumi: No, just trees in general. If they can’t be avoided or cut down, I’m told a lot of old-timers will just reflexively spit whenever they pass one. Even one of their princes, one who called it an “infantile common superstition,” to me. He still avoids trees over a certain height on sheer instinct.

Rhea: Is green clothing considered a bad omen there as well?

Takumi: [shrugs] From the sound of it, yes. Someone else summoned from Nohr- a commoner- once mentioned in passing that his cousin showed up for his brother’s wedding in green and got beaten half to death for it. Talked about it like you’d talk about your friend losing his house in a flood- unfortunate, but unremarkable.

Rhea: Your neighbor seems to inspire some…passionate opinions. Just from your tone, I take it you’re no great lover of them.

Takumi: You could say that, I suppose. They did murder my father, after all. But what I think about them as a people…it’s not really much worse than the common opinions. That they’re loud, rude, arrogant, and obnoxious- generally speaking, of course. Honestly, you should ask my retainer, Oboro if you’re that curious about the topic. She has even less love for Nohr, but even then, she’ll still usually be polite when speaking to them.

Rhea: [shuts her eyes in contemplation briefly] I understand this may be something of a sensitive topic, but are you privy to the common Nohrian opinion of your people?

Takumi: [winces unconsciously] Oh, you know. The usual. That we’re filthy, depraved, sneaky, dishonorable, inscrutable, not really people, beasts in human skin, and so on. That we do horrible things to women and little girls as rites of passage, sacrifice live babies to the Dawn Dragon. All that good stuff.

Rhea: My goodness! Where in the worlds do they get these impressions?

Takumi: [sighs] I couldn’t tell you. From what I’ve learned, they mostly couldn’t either. You’d probably have to ask whatever demon gave them these ideas.

Rhea: Is that…what was bothering you?

Takumi: [visibly angry] No, it’s not. I told you. Nothing is bothering me.

Rhea: If you’re sure, child. If you ever need to confide-

Takumi: It’s nothing! NOTHING is bothering me, okay! So just drop it!

[Takumi storms off.]

Rhea: Oh dear. Perhaps I handled that poorly.

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank B.]

A SUPPORT

[In the same garden as earlier]

Takumi: Er, Rhea- Archbishop. I…I meant to apologize for that outburst the other day.

Rhea: [somewhat surprised] Oh! Prince Takumi! No, it is I who owes you the apology. I pried into a clearly sensitive topic and-

Takumi: No, the fault is mine. My conduct was unbecoming of a prince and a man in general, and there’s no excuse for that. I apologize for my behavior.

Rhea: Again, you need not ask my forgiveness.

Takumi: But you were completely right about one thing. Something WAS bothering me. And it continues to bother me.

Rhea: [nods sadly] I had suspected as much.

Takumi: Are you…sure you want to hear about this…? Pleasant is the very last thing this is.

Rhea: Yes, if it would help to put your mind at ease.

[Taking a deep breath, Takumi sits down next to Rhea, staring off blankly into the distance.]

Takumi: You had already figured out that I don’t sleep very well a lot of the time. Gods, it sounds so childish, but…I have very vivid nightmares. Violently vivid, in fact.

Rhea: [frowns slightly] No, I understand completely. I have…more than my share of sleepless nights, as well.

Takumi: Again, are you really sure you want to hear this stuff?

Rhea: If you’re inclined to share with me, I will listen.

Takumi: [exhales sharply] This is just one of them, but this recurring nightmare of mine…I can’t even describe it that well…but I could tell that it was in a town in Hoshido. The architecture told me that much. And strangely enough, I was this…ghost thing. I could feel the physical world- but I couldn’t really interact with it.

Rhea: That sounds…most unsettling.

Takumi: And I’m just getting started too! You know how I mentioned I could interact with the world? Oh, gods…there was so much blood. It must have been up to my shins! I keep wading through it to find the townspeople…it was probably the most terrifying thing I could imagine. So many bodies…they weren’t soldiers even, but civilians- old men, women, children! Most of them were missing ears, eyes, noses, hands, heads- half of them didn’t even have any skin left!

Rhea: [looking shocked and horrified] My goodness! That IS terrible! I scarcely have the words for it!

Takumi: [winces] It gets worse. Where did all that skin go? When I turned my head to face the “monument” the Nohrians had built in the town square, I was sick to my stomach. And Oboro…gods, the first time I had this nightmare, I couldn’t look her in the eye for a week! And Hinata…he was the worst of all! They weren’t just murdering him…they were TORTURING him! And you know what disturbed me most? It wasn’t even that I couldn’t even do a damn thing about it. It was that they were laughing as they did this!

Rhea: You poor thing…have you ever talked to anyone about these terrible nightmares?

Takumi: No, not really. And anyone I could, I…don’t think they could understand anyway.

Rhea: What do you mean?

Takumi: Well, my brother, for one. He’s so strong, that even in his nightmares, he’d hand those bastards their heads- literally! Same goes for my sister, too. And my other sister…no, I could do that to her. She’s sensitive enough that she’d probably start to have these nightmares just from me even starting to describe them! And her retainers would never forgive me either!

[Takumi starts to choke back tears, lying his head in Rhea’s lap.]

Rhea: [strokes his hair] You poor dear…you’ve suffered so terribly in silence.

Takumi: [sobs] Y-you must think I’m some kind of m-monster for having thoughts like this! I just want- all I ever wanted- was to protect Hoshido- protect my people!

[Takumi continues to sob as Rhea strokes his hair.]

Rhea: [sings] Iiiiiiiiin time’s flow…see the glow…of flames ever burning bright…on the swift…river’s drift…broken memories alight…

[Takumi sits back up, noticeably calmer.]

Takumi: That song…it’s so relaxing. That’s probably why I thought you were Azura!

Rhea: Yes, my mother would often sing it for me when I was young. It is quite calming to me, even to this day.

Takumi: My mother- well, my stepmother technically, but she was the only mother I ever knew- had a beautiful singing voice too.

Rhea: [smiles] She sounds just lovely. Inside and out.

Takumi: Yeah, she was. She was.

Rhea: And on the contrary, Takumi. I do not think of you as a monster or a demon in the slightest.

Takumi: Wait, why not?

Rhea: Because that fear and concern is born from a deep and sincere love of your people. I cannot- will not- blame you for that same love. I have encountered a great many powerful princes, nobles, merchants, and what have you, in my time. If even half of them had half of your concern for their own people, the world- all of our worlds- would be in far better condition.

Takumi: [finally smiles] Archbishop- Rhea…thank you. It’s…not exactly easy for me to open up to people, let alone about things like this. Again, thank you.

Rhea: Think nothing of it, child. If you ever require a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on, you may seek me out.

Takumi: And even though I came apart a bit there, I still meant every word I said. I don’t care what people want to call me. A monster, a demon, a zealot, whatever. My purpose is now and will always be to protect my people- from whatever wants to harm them.

Rhea: [smiles] A very admirable purpose.

[Takumi gets up and walks away.]

Rhea: (If only more humans could be like that young man instead of him... that thief.)

[Takumi and Rhea have reached support rank A.]

[greenninjagal-blog]

Idle Threats

Wow, this was not supposed to be this long, but hopefully it makes up for all the not writing I’ve done for the past month :)

Word Count: 8041

Pairings: Platonic Deceit and Logan. (With background LAMP)

Summary: No one has ever stood up for Dee so he decides to do it himself, in front of the class, in front of the brand new substitute teacher. And he almost regrets it. 

Quick Taglist: @felicianoromano @jemthebookworm @holliberries @stricken-with-clairvoyancy 

Read on AO3 || Master List 

Dante Ethan Ekans hates every single teacher in his school. Three years into his high school career and he had come across every single teacher—every single one of them—and he hated them all. He had sat through every lecture, done every assignment, battled in every single class discussion. He had done everything the school system had asked him to do.

And he is still staring at a low D average in all his classes.

It should have been impossible: the grading system was set up so that as long as students just showed up they were receiving a C grade.

And well, Dante had always been proving the impossible, possible. He had survived his own birth, survived the car crash that killed his father, and survived the worst of his mother’s psychotic tantrums. He had dragged himself to school with bruises on his wrists and broken fingers wrapped messily in old bandages that made his handwriting into an atrocious disgrace just so that he could at least get an education, get a chance at a scholarship, get a chance to leave town.

And he is in his third year of high school, the year most colleges start to look at prospective students, and he is getting a low D average and he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

It’s like the entire teaching staff had unanimously decided “hey, you know that kid whose face is all messed up with the burn marks from the car crash at age six? Let’s just ruin his entire life by grading him unnecessarily harder than everyone else in the school, turning a blind eye to when the other students mess with him, and loudly announcing how he needs to do better on his essays if he wants to get better grades in front of the whole class.”

Dante—and fuck if he hated that name. No one was called Dante anymore—had done everything he could to get his grades up. He studied twice as hard and twice as long as everyone else. He had swallowed his pride and asked the teachers for help (and been told to pay more attention in class) and for extra credit (and been denied). He had tried to argue grades and been sent to the Detention room for vulgar language and an attempted assault on a teacher (which was a blatant lie).

Not to mention that one asshole of a teacher, Mr. Walker, who had told him that not only was make up for females, but his use of cosmetics was an unacceptable cry for attention. Dante then had to stand there in front of the class with his cheeks burning red and his peers snickering as he told the teacher that he wasn’t wearing any make up, and that the burns on his face were the real deal, and that he couldn’t wash it off even if he wanted to.

So Dante Ethan Ekans—Dee for short; Dee was what his friends would call him, if he had any—has no hard feelings when he heard that Mr. Walker had been in a bad car accident and would not be back for the rest of the school year. What a complete shame that would be. How would they ever move on?

Apparently, there’s a substitute coming, one of those long-term ones that only ever dropped by for times of emergency. Dee had overheard the head of nutrition (a sweet, mother-like man that all the lunch ladies adore named Patton Hart) and school resource officer (who Dee doesn’t know the name of and kept far enough away from. He doesn’t need to be any closer to any law enforcers than he already was) talking about the teacher: about how strict he was, about how the kids had no clue what was coming, about how Mr. Hart should redesign the menu with the majority of the student’s favorites because this week was going to be rough with a capital R. They both had laughed after that, and Patton had caught sight of Dee and asked him if he needed anything in the kindest tone Dee had ever heard.

(He had run after that, had run as fast as he could without making it seem like he was running away. The last thing he needs is anymore people to look at him with pity, with cruelty, with smug better-than-you expressions that appeared the second Dee dared act vulnerable. The last thing he needs is to open his mouth and tell the truth.)

Dee isn’t expecting anything amazing to come out of the substitute teacher. He expects it to be another beanpole old lady who snaps anytime someone made a noise and confiscates phones on whim and assigns them all worksheets that were to be done and handed in by the end of the class period, no exceptions.

He’s usually one of the first into the science room because the class he has before it is Math which just down the hall, but he’s barely out of the room when Mrs. Johnston’s shrill voice slices through the student chatter.

“Ekans!” She screeches, “Ekans! A moment!”

It’s not a moment. It’s never just a moment with her. The bell rings and the halls empty and Dee stands in front of the math teacher for another three minutes listening to her tell him that he’s been doing his math the wrong way and if he doesn’t start doing it the way she taught in class she’s going to have to dock him more points (like there’s more to dock him in the first place), regardless of the fact he doesn’t understand the way she’s been teaching and his way is actually based on how a college professor explained it on the YouTube series he looked up for help.

He can see into her classroom, the one that’s filled with obnoxious freshman who are lounging around while they wait for their teacher to be done berating Dee. He can see the way they all point and snicker and make fun of the half of his face he can’t do anything about.

“And now you’ve made me waste time for my next class, Mr. Ekans.” Mrs. Johnston says, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry,” Dee says robotically, and his hands tighten around the strap of his backpack. “It won’t happen again, Ma’am.”

But it’s a lie, because it always happens again.

But it’s a lie, because he’s not really sorry at all.

Because she might have missed the first few minutes of class, but she controlled the rate the students learned. Dee felt his own nails tear into his palm as he opened the door to the classroom where the new substitute was-- the one who’s voice was already droning on about what they were learning, already through the roll call, already letting the whole class know he was not going to tolerate any monkey business at all.

Dee glances at the teacher, who in turn does not break his lecture, but nods to him and to one of the several empty desks in the room. He’s young, nerdy looking, but Dee can’t think of anyone he knows who would have the guts to say it to the man’s face. He had a cold look about him, like he didn’t know how to smile and wasn’t in the mood to learn.

Dee throws himself into the closest empty chair, keeping his head down and tries not to make too much noise when he picks through his backpack for his notebook for the science class.

He’s so focused on not disrupting the teacher, not causing anymore eyes to fall on him, not helping the already terrible opinion the man has of him, that he wasn’t even paying attention to who he was sitting next to until it’s far too late to change seats.

And he finds out when sees another body drape over the desk to his left out of the corner of his eye and Dee freezes on the spot. He’s not hearing a single thing the new teacher says, not hearing whatever he’s mentioning about the quick technical drawing he has on the board, and definitely not hearing the notes he should be taking down. His tongue grates against his teeth as Kyle slides his chair an inch his direction with a weasel-ish expression on his face.

“Hey, Ekans,” Kyle murmurs just loud enough for Dee to hear.

Dee refuses to look at him, but it’s not like he’s seeing anything in front of him either. His fingers squeeze his pencil, and the soles of his feet rest firmly on the ground, like it can keep him from moving at all.

“Ekans,” Kyle says again louder, but not enough to stop the teacher. “The boys and I took some notes for you.”

They aren’t notes. Dee can see the header so neatly written on the top of the paper, so innocently telling him it’s a list of reasons no one likes him and what to do about it (and worse). It’s not original, its not new, and Dee stubbornly refuses to give him the satisfaction of taking it.

Dee can hear the rest of his friends, the idiots, the dicks, and those two girls who never had anything nice to say, snickering behind them and further left. He can see a motion that looks like one of them nudging each other, and he feels the familiar kick of someone’s foot against his chair.

He wants to say he’s used to it.

He doesn’t think lying to himself is healthy.

Lying to everyone else? Yeah, sure, he’s been doing that since middle school. He’s drowned in his fake apologies for things that weren’t his fault and his torn himself apart to appease people who need to feel like they’re better than others just to keep his own mind sane.

Honestly, he’s a little sick of it—all of it. He didn’t ask for his face to be the discolored mess that it was, didn’t ask for his mother to sometimes lose her mind, didn’t ask for everyone around him to be assholes. He remembers, vaguely, the doctor who had treated his burns (one of them?). At six years old, he can’t even put a face or a name to the form, but he can still hear the voice in the back of his mind telling him he’s lucky, so very lucky.

He could have lost an eye. His arm. His life.

Dee hasn’t felt lucky since then.

The foot kicks his chair again, Dee jerks. Someone laughs. The teacher says something about a test with a pointed clip to his tone. They settle down long enough that the teacher turns away and rambles on about the schedule he’s going to keep them on, blah, blah, blah.

Kyle leans over again. “Ekans—”

“Shut up,” Dee hisses. He regrets it a second later. Because there was a metaphorical door there and Dee had just flung it open and allowed Kyle to walk on in.

“Damn Ekans,” Kyle snickers, “You don’t have to be such a little bitch about it. Does your brother know your such a little bitch?”

Dee’s hand tightens on his pencil.

“Maybe we should tell him,” Kyle muses.  Dee doesn’t have to look to know the expression on the other’s face. “He goes to Mind Elementary, right? Just down the road?”

Dee counts backwards from Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

“It would be super easy just to sit down and have a chat with him. I wonder if he knows how big of a freak his brother is? I bet he’s too stupid to—”

Dee does not make it to six.

“If you so much as look at my brother, I’ll put you in the goddamn hospital,” Dee says.

The room seems to breathe for a second. Dee glares at Kyle and his stupidly pleased weasel face and beady green eyes that look like forest moss eating the carcass of some animal. The room seems to breathe for a second and Dee realizes with a fiery anger it was because no one was speaking.

The teacher had stopped. Which meant that everyone’s attention is on him.

“Mr. Ekans,” The substitute says a hand reaching up to adjust his glasses, and Dee flinches. “Is there something you would like to add to my lecture?”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes into the class, and the man already knew his name. Kyle grins sharply, smugly. Two of his friends do an underhand five in the seats behind them. Dee thinks he hates everyone in the room at that very moment.

“No,” Dee says, through gritted teeth, “sir.”

The teacher hums. “Interesting, could that be because Mr. Phillips was providing an ample distraction in the middle of my class time?”

That was the moment that Dee realizes he had gone to school with Kyle for three years and had never heard his last name before.

After all, Kyle was every teacher’s favorite. If they didn’t know him from his numerous club activities (drama, art, debate, every honor club you could think of), he often brought them presents on the first day of class and was invited over for dinner every Saturday evening within the first week of class. No one addressed him by his last name.

The substitute teacher didn’t look pleased to be the first. Neither did Kyle.

And frankly, neither did Dee. (Because it wasn’t like it would last. It wasn’t like by tomorrow all of Kyle’s misdeeds would be forgotten and this teacher--this temporary teacher--wouldn’t be wrapped around Kyle’s finger like all the others.) Dee’s stomach clenched at the thought, a bit of envy, jealousy, anger clawing up his throat and making the burns from so long ago itch.

“Well?” The teacher says—and no, Dee checked, he had not written his name on the board. “Mr. Phillips?”

“I was just offering him the notes.” Kyle says, “He came in late. I was trying to be a help and he threatened me!” He looks at his friends who all nod earnestly like Kyle isn’t lying through the skin of his teeth.

“Curious how I do not believe that,” The teacher counters. “This is my classroom, Mr. Phillips. If I thought Mr. Ekans needed notes, I would have provided them to him. Additionally, your actions have caused more harm than good as I am now wasting more of this class’s time, and seeing how this is the last class of the day, I only have your attentions for approximately an hour and fifteen minutes.” He stops for a moment, his eyes darting between Dee and Kyle in a way that Dee does not like.

“Perhaps this is for the best.” He says suddenly, “It would do well to get this out of the way now. Both of you, up here.”

Dee freezes.

Kyle hisses under his breath and heaves himself out of the chair with false gusto. He makes a gesture to his friends that carries a round of giggling up to the front of the room.

“Mr. Ekans,” The teacher says. “That means you, too.”

In no way shape or form is Dee at fault here. He knows he’s not. Kyle and his friends have been picking on him for years and getting away with it and leaving charcoal rocks in Dee’s stomach from every encounter. Standing up feels a lot like striking a match and the entire trek up to the front of the room feels like lowering it to the rocks.

Dee’s face is already burning by the time he side by side with Kyle again. He stares stiffly at the whiteboard, glaring at a smudge of black marker from the last class.

“I am not your normal teacher,” The substitute says. “A lot of the things that were condoned in his class will not be in mine. You will not talk when I talk. You will not be on your phones unless I tell you to. You will not pass notes. You will not make idle threats—”

Dee isn’t sure what comes over him, but that charcoal fire in his stomach explodes outward and engulfs his entire body. For a split second everything turns red, every noise of all the twenty-two other students in the class fades to nothingness, and Dee turns sharply to the side.

Maybe its because Dee had a little bit of hope buries somewhere deep in his mind. Maybe its because he knew that teachers weren’t supposed to pick sides or hold prejudices. Maybe its because Dee spent a whole ten years being “lucky” enough that he survived everything thrown his way just to let another teacher turn a blind eye to the students’ interactions.

Maybe its because Dee was just so very tired of the smug look on Kyle’s face.

His fist connects before anyone realizes he even moved. Kyle yells, and he goes crashing to the floor. Dee’s knuckles pulsate with pain, and he pretty sure he tore the skin off on when it scraped Kyles stupid teeth. Several kids scream.

Dee looks back at the teacher, meeting his somewhat surprised gaze with his own angry one.

“There,” Dee spits, “It’s not an “idle” threat anymore.”

So he finds himself sitting in the front office hands jammed in his pockets and shoulders up to his ears. Part of him wonders if he can fold into himself until nothing exists. The secretary running the phone and letting parents in to pick up their kids, keeps side eyeing him, as if he’s a circus attraction she can’t quite believe is real.

Dee’s head is still ringing with the teachers voice telling him to take the quickly scribbled note and go to the Vice Principal’s office, but the edges of his adrenaline and his anger keep him from feeling the paper cut and the bruising on his knuckles that surely was coming.

He tries to convince himself he’s sorry for doing it, but if Vice Principal Joan tells him to apologize to Kyle in person Dee might have to take a short walk off the roof.

It had felt…good. It had felt great. It had felt a lot like a mistake too.

There was no way he was getting out of this one, no empty promises to do better could make up for assaulting another student. Not to mention that substitute teacher most definitely hated him now, and rightfully was about to join ranks with ever other teacher in the school.

VP Joan was going to suspend him, and then they’ll call Dee’s mother, and then Dee was never going to get into college, and he was never going to leave this town, and he was never going to overcome the scarring on his face that he had been so damn lucky to survive in the first place.

“Dante Ekans,” A voice calls from the hall of offices where all the staff had desks. Dee only recognizes VP Joan because of their face in the school newsletter and sometimes on the papers. They did a lot of fundraisers like kissing a pig if the students raised “X” amount of money, or one dollar to buy a strip of duct tape to tape them to the wall.

Dee goes with them into their office. It feels cluttered, but there is enough space for Dee to sit down and VP Joan to look stressed. Papers, mugs, several action figures Dee vaguely recognizes rest on the desk. There were awards on the walls and teaching certificates along with superhero posters Dee thinks probably aren’t the most professional until he sees it was signed by the cast of the movies.

“So,” The VP says, “Want to tell me what happened?”

The answer is no, Dee does not want to tell them what happened. Because even when Dee tells the truth, even when he lays down his words barren in front of the judges, even when he cries or yells or shows any validating emotion, his scarred face makes him appear less trustworthy. It happened before where Kyle said what he wanted and the teachers decided that must have been what happened and that Dee had lied and made everything up in yet another desperate cry for attention.

So, no, Dee doesn’t want to tell the VP what happened, because he’s so sick of being turned into the bad guy when he’s not. (Okay maybe punching the guy was a bad example here. Maybe Dee just wants to keep himself from digging a bigger grave with this one).

Dee stares at the wood grain in the VP’s desk and lets the silence hold out. It’s comforting in a way.

VP Joan taps their fingers on their side of the desk. If Dee shifts a little he can see the little blue unfolded note that the teacher had sent him with, and although he doesn’t know what it says, Dee knows it probably bad.

Like “Student Ekans interrupted class with a threat against unarmed peer and then acted upon said threat. Suggested course of action is immediate expulsion” bad. Or something worse.

“Mr. Ekans,” VP Joan says, followed by a sigh, “Fuck this shit.”

Dee blinks at the sudden language—language he’s pretty sure is not allowed in the school. Most of his teachers get after him for that (especially the ones who can’t get him with anything else. His last English teacher was a fan of cutting him off mid book discussion whenever he used a swear, until Dee just began to hold his tongue completely.)

“Look, I don’t know what you did that Logan needed you out of the classroom.” VP Joan says, “And I don’t really have any work that a student can do, uh, legally. Why don’t you go see if Patton—uh Mr. Hart to you—needs any help.”

Dee stills, “What?”

VP Joan holds up the blue paper, and the black scrawl that reads “Please entertain Mr. Ekans for the rest of the block” makes Dee’s eyes cross slightly.

“I’m not…in trouble?” Dee says. It sounds like a dream, like saying the words out loud will make the reality crack and fall apart.

“Should you be?” VP Joan asks, “Don’t answer that. Dr. Ackroyd and I go way back, but I’m still surprised he agreed to fill in here for the rest of the year. We need a competent science teacher, so I’ll turn my head to whatever complex puzzle he’s solving.”

Dee doesn’t understand what that means. He really doesn’t care either.

“Don’t forget your bag,” VP Joan says as they usher Dee out of the office and towards the cafeteria where Patton Hart might be found. “I’m sure I’ll see more of you, Mr. Ekans, but until then have a good day.”

It’s ridiculous, Dee thinks, like its part of a dream. Maybe it is? Maybe Dee punched Kyle and Kyle hit him back and he hit his head on the white board marker tray and now he’s hallucinating.

But he doesn’t think hallucinations were this real: he can hear the sound of each teacher teaching, laughter from some of the rooms, and the muttered conversation between two teachers who have a free period this block and don’t spare him a glance. He can hear the sound of the tape ripping as a couple of students hang posters on the walls for Cheerleading tryouts, can feel the sturdiness of the tile floor under his feet as he tries to catch the reflection of the artificial lights on the polish, can smell the lemon cleaner from the trolley outside the bathrooms that signifies they’re being cleaned at the moment.

He finds Patton Hart sitting at the only table left set up in the cafeteria. He’s laughing leaning forward with a bottle of Windex and a rag at his elbows, but it looks like he’s already cleaned everything that needs to be cleaned. Standing next to him is the resource officer, and Dee still doesn’t know the man’s name. It wasn’t like they talked very often. Still, the man looks smug and happy, and absolutely thrilled that he managed to get a laugh from the nutritionist.

Dee slows his pace, a half step for every real step he could be taking when he realizes that he doesn’t have a clue what he’s supposed to say. At best? Mr. Hart would set him up with some busy work to do, like cleaning lunch trays maybe (where there any of those left?). At worse? He’d demand to know why Dee wasn’t in class, and then drag him to said class and Dee would get to be the middle of a commotion all over again. Perhaps it would be better if he ran for the bathrooms and hid there until the end of the day. Then he’d sneak out with the rest of the students, avoid Kyle, pick up his brother, and make it all the way home before anyone stopped him.

His shoe scuffed the ground when he goes to turn around. His heart jumps to his throat, when both the staff members pause to look at him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Mr. Hart says, “You need something?”

The Resource Officer shifts to put his hands on his belt. Dee tries not to watch too intensely. His mouth dries up again, and he tries figure out what combination of English words isn’t going to ruin this chance to walk free of consequences. He hates that he remembers a time when he wasn’t afraid to talk to people, hates that he has to swallow the lump in his throat and fight the urge to stare at his shoes while his fingers tear at his bag’s straps.

“VP Joan,” Dee says finally, “sent me to you.”

“Me?” Mr. Hart blinks, pointing to himself. “Hmm, that’s not normal. Did they say why?”

Answering the question is a straight forward thing: VP Joan said that he had nothing for Dee to do, so he sent him to Mr. Hart. But Dee also knows that will lead the conversation to why he was sent to VP Joan in the first place and he really doesn’t want to tell anyone else how he managed to dodge the repercussions of decking another kid by some type of miracle and have that change.

The silence holds on a second, two, three, too long. Dee’s head drops to stare at his scuffed up converse (an ugly yellow pair that he had stolen from a GoodWill bin in the outer parking lot of a shopping complex late one night two years ago, which he had worn until they were a dusted brown).

“Kiddo?” Mr. Hart asks

The Resource Officer shifts again, “Wait, I know you!” He raises a hand casually turning back to Mr. Hart, and hopefully missing the way Dee’s shoulders tense. “He’s got Walker for last block.”

Mr. Hart claps his hands and turns back to Dee. His eyes sparkle behind his black framed glasses. “Oh, that means you were in Logan’s class! That’s amazing! He’s a great teacher!”

“Hardly!” The Resource Officer scoffs. “Logan probably scared them all out of their minds! He’s the worst!”

“Roman!” Mr. Hart hits him on the arm, “You take that back! Logan is the sweetest teacher this school is ever going to see!”

“Of course, you’d say that, Pat!” The Resource Officer- Roman?- says, “You never had to be tutored by him!” For a man who could probably bench press three “Logan’s”, Dee thought it was a little weird how he shuddered unpleasantly. Although that was not as weird as trying to make sense of what the two adults were talking about.

Honestly he wasn’t sure they were talking about the same person at all: The teacher-- Logan, Dr. Ackroyd (that’s was VP Joan had said right?)-- was stern and stiff and, sure, a little scary, but then again Dee didn’t exactly have stellar experiences with any other adult either. Still he couldn’t see what about him was “the sweetest teacher in this school”.

And the fact that Dee had been in his class for about ten minutes before he was sent right back out. He still wasn’t convinced the teacher wasn’t planning some big, huge, insurmountable class project to give to Dee as a punishment for punching such a nice kid like Kyle.

Mr. Hart stood up from his seat looking directly at Dee, “Come sit down, kiddo! Are you hungry? There’s some left ice cream sandwiches from lunch this week that I’m going to need to throw out before the weekend.”

Dee very much doesn’t know what to do. He’s not sure he nods, but Mr. Hart disappears into the cafeteria kitchen anyway so that Dee and the Resource Officer are left alone. Dee’s fingers ache whenever he moves them, so he takes extra special care to use his non-dominant hand to shrug off his backpack. The burn scars on his forearm and on his shoulder blade work in tandem to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

When he looks up, Resource Officer Roman is staring at him. His brain whirls with something to say, something defensive that will get the adult to keep his comments to himself, and please, please, don’t ask about them. But everything that comes to mind is nasty and ugly and he can’t say it to someone with a taser on their belt.

For a room that could fit upwards three hundred students for lunch, Dee feels trapped and claustrophobic.

“So,” The adult says, “What’s your name?”

“Ekans,” Dee says immediately. He stares down at the table.

“That’s…that’s a terrible name, kid.” The Resource Officer says. “Did your parents pick that one out or--?”

“Dante Ekans,” Dee says sharply, and squeezes his aching fingers tightly because the pressure overrides the pain even if its just for a second.

“Ah! Dante! Like the Poet! Writer of The Divine Comedy!”

Dee sinks lower in his seat, “Yep.” The centuries old text of a guy traveling through hell and purgatory and idolizing a guy that had been dead even longer than him. Like he hadn’t heard that one before. It was just another reason to hate his name.

Mr. Hart chooses that moment to come back, bouncing on the balls of his feet, sliding on the freshly polished floor, and those curls of his dancing. Resource Officer Roman immediately forgets all about Dee and Dante’s Inferno and all those things that adults like to think when they saw him. It’s a relief.

Kinda.

Mr. Hart sits down right next to Dee, ignoring his previous seat completely. Dee’s shoulders bunch up to his ears, he’s sure, and the way his mouth dries out is far from expected. But the man just hands him an ice cream sandwich that the cafeteria sold for a dollar during lunch shifts, and Dee takes it.

(He’s had one before, like once. For his birthday last year where he borrowed a single dollar from his mother’s and bought himself one birthday gift. It had been sticky and too sweet and the chocolate had clung to his fingers and he had thrown half of it out, but Dee had loved it. His mother had screamed when she found the money missing, screamed and tore his hair and Dee hadn’t said a word.)

Dee takes his time unwrapping the treat, part of him upset that if Mr. Hart knew why Dee was there, he wouldn’t be giving him a free ice cream sandwich, part of him wishing desperately he could save it and share it with his brother, part of him wanting to shove the entire thing in his mouth because he deserved it for having put up with this stupid shit for ten years.

“What nothing for me?” Resource Officer Roman asks petulantly.

Mr. Hart smiles at him innocently. “Oh, I have something else for you Ro! It’s just gonna have to wait until after work!”

“Oh yeah?” The Officer smiles, leaning in closer, “And why is that, my dear Pat?”

“Because you can’t eat and work, silly!” Mr. Hart laughs, “What if there’s an emergency? You’d show up all covered in ice cream…!”

Dee takes a large bite of the ice cream sandwich and silently presses “f” to pay respects for the resource officer. The obvious flirting seemed to have absolutely no effect on the man between them, and Dee wasn’t sure if it was the innocent nature of him or if he was trying to let the officer down nicely.

“Ah, my dear Pat,” The Officer says, “Always looking out for me. What would I do without you? Die, surely!”

Mr. Hart laughs, the freckles on his cheeks glow. Dee glances at Resource Officer Roman’s face and is not surprised to see the blatant “smitten” expression. He looks like some anime character seconds before the “heart eyes” started. It’s almost embarrassing. Dee takes another bite of the sandwich.

“Ah, I thought I’d find the three of you here.”

Dee chokes on the bite of the sandwich.

Resource Officer Roman jumps, letting out a yelp that was surprisingly high pitched for a man of his stature. Dee coughs to dislodge a glob of chocolate breading that got stuck  when his throat closed suddenly in a panic. The only one who doesn’t seem a little bit startled by Dr. Logan Ackroyd’s appearance is Patton, who jumps up from his seat and leans forward on the table with literal stars in his eyes.

“Logan!” He cries happily, “It’s been so long!”

“Too Long,” the Substitute teacher agrees, and Dee is uncomfortable with the amount of warmth in his expression—its a stark contrast to how he had looked in the classroom, to how he had looked at Dee. His hand pulses again, his fingers twitching in the pocket he had refused to take it out of since he had sat down.

“Logan,” Resource Officer Roman says, with a sniff of distaste that’s clearly artificial. “I can’t believe they let you back into the country.”

“Roman,” The teacher responds, the warmth sizzling in the air. “Your mother says hello.”

“When did you see my mother?”

“Yesterday, I helped her grocery shop. She called me the son she wished she had.”

The Officer flaps his hands, with a noise that sounds stuck between offended and flabbergasted. Dee feels a bit of the ice cream drip down his palm.

There’s a bizarre feeling in the air, a tension? No that wasn’t right. Dee can’t place the reason for the electricity in the air that the teacher had brought, buzzing and sparking between the three of them. Mr. Hart doesn’t seem to have a bad thing to say which meant that Resource Officer Roman had every right to hate the man at the other end of the table (since he was obviously hitting on Mr. Hart, ugh). But somehow the words and the tone don’t match at all. There’s no jealousy, no thinly vailed hatred that Dee was so adept at noticing.

(If he’s honest, he thinks the Resource Officer is eye fucking the substitute Teacher right there in front of him and that even more terrifying than the alternative.)

“I see you have both entertained Mr. Ekans, here.” The teacher says turning to Dee with a sharp piercing gaze. Dee stomach drops out.

Here it is. End times. Dee finds himself sinking backwards like he can hide in from the words that are coming. The burns on his shoulders sting with a phantom pain that’s all too familiar, and not at all real. He stares at the half melted ice cream mess in his hand because it’s easier than meeting the accusatory look of his teacher who was going to hold him accountable for injuring the “perfect” student.

“Don’t you have a class to teach, Calculator Watch?” Resource Officer Roman says, “Unless you murdered them all already. Bored them to death at fourteen! Tragic!”

“Your snide comments have no equal, Prince.” The Teacher shoots back, “They are sixteen and seventeen, and I left them for a mere moment to talk to Mr. Ekans. They believe I am picking up more worksheets for them to do in the coming weeks.”

No one says anything for a second, and Dee feels it in his bones the way the attention shifts. All three adults are looking at him, and he feels the need to defend himself in any way that’s possible. What could he say? That Kyle was a douche? A bully? Like any of them would believe that. Dee was the one who had threatened and then assaulted the other. Not to mention he looked like the bad guy in everyone’s stories. Short of the fangs, he was the monster that hid under kids’ beds.

(And he wasn’t thinking that just because once he had seen several of his brother’s friends run off screaming as he approached him in the pick up area of the elementary school, because he couldn’t blame a couple eight-year-olds for being scared.)

Dee’s mouth is halfway open with some half baked, insincere apology he doesn’t mean and hates to say when Dr. Ackroyd speaks.

“I came to ask how your hand was fairing.”

Mr. Hart’s head tilts to the side. Dee glares at the other side of the room and wishes he had slid into the restroom when he had the chance to. Cowardly? Maybe. But he’s never met anyone who liked facing consequences either.

“Kiddo?” Mr. Hart says. “What happened?” He sits back down, causing the table to shake and Dee to squeeze the rest of the ice cream from between the chocolate breading and onto the table.

“There was an altercation in my class,” Dr. Ackroyd says. “Mr. Ekans ended up punching another student.”

“Oh dear!” Mr. Hart cries, and Dee for the life of him can’t figure out why he suddenly grabs the rag at his elbows and gently cups the ice cream mess that is his out-reached hand. It’s the wrong hand, but Dee’s brain short circuits in the second their hands touch. (He’s not sure why that happened either and refuses to give a second to think about it.) Why was Mr. Hart trying to help him? Didn’t he see that Dee was the villain making threats and acting on them?

“I didn’t even notice! Are you alright? Do you need ice? A bandaid?”

“Am I gonna have to write a report for this one?” Resource Officer Roman groans, “Why are you trying to give me extra homework again, Logan? We graduated years ago!”

“If I remember correctly, you got off a minute and a half ago, Roman,” the Teacher says, placing himself in the seat directly across from Dee, “So therefore, no, you will not have to write an incident report for this event. Additionally, those extra homeworks were the reason you graduated at all.”

Dee glances at the clock in the corner, surprised to see there’s still twenty minutes of class left. Did the Resource Officer really get off early? Dee had never heard of that, but then again, he had never cared before either.

“It’s the other hand, Patton.” The teacher continues.

Dee gets the feeling he’s being analyzed. Mr. Hart coaxes Dee’s other arm from his pocket, and it stings where the lip of his jean pocket rips over his knuckles. He has to turn so that Mr. Hart can look at his fingers and the black nail polish on his nails where his mother hadn’t been able to scrub it off. But it’s turning away from Dr. Ackroyd and his calculated stare and for that Dee is grateful. He hides in his shoulder.

“Mr. Ekans,” The teacher says, “Might I inquire what possessed you to acquaint Mr. Phillips with your fist in the middle of my class?”

The word “no” is at the top of Dee’s tongue, clicking against his front teeth valiantly, although the silence is preferable. Somehow, he doesn’t think he could win a game of silence against the gaze of the teacher. Somehow the silence seems much more dangerous than speaking the truth.

But before it gets out, the Resource officer is suddenly right next to them, “Did you just say he punched Phillips? Like Kyle Phillips?”

Dee doesn’t have time to even panic.

The man is already turning to him a grin lighting up three-fourths of his face. “It’s Official, Dante Ekans! You’re my new favorite student!”

“Roman!” Mr. Hart says, “You can’t pick favorites! Kyle is--”

The Officer leans back with a scoff, “I’ll stop you there, my beloved baker! I had to hold you back from physically fighting his mom at the last PTA meeting!”

“Yeah but—”

“You wanted to burn their house down!”

Mr. Hart sticks his tongue in his cheek and bites it. “Their entire family is just so awful to everyone.”

Dee imagines what it would be like if Mr. Hart had burned down their house, if Kyle had lost his dad, if Kyle had been just as disfigured at Dee was. He hates it, he hates the smug feeling in his stomach, because he knew better than anyone how much life sucked and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Shouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Dee hisses where Mr. Hart’s rag rubs over his knuckles. The scraps were red, but at least it didn’t look like they were bleeding. He must have ripped the first couple layers of skin off, but that’s all.

Dee stares off in a direction where no one else was. It was easier than looking at the adults. The words caught in his throat, warbled and stuttered and barely more than a mumble.

“He started it.”

Did he sound like a five year old? Yes. Most definitely. Absolutely.

“I see,” the teacher says. He folds his hands deliberately in front of himself, in a fluid motion that Dee watches like a hawk without turning his head back. The tone gives him pause, because Dee can’t find any amusement in it, any hint that this new teacher is just humoring him because he wants a laugh or why-ever any of the teachers that ever listen to him do.

“I assumed as much from his attitude during my class. I’ve already set aside time to speak to him and his mother about his inexcusable behavior.”

Dee freezes as the teacher goes on to talk about proper class etiquette. He doesn’t hear a word after “inexcusable”. It makes his chest hurt, his eyes burn, and his scars itch. Its uncomfortable, its wrong, its different. Because no one has ever called Kyle’s behavior bad. The floaty feeling from earlier comes back (without him realizing it had been gone) and Dee is certain that this is somehow a twisted dream.

A twisted dream he wants so bad to be reality. A dream that Dee doesn’t want to wake from.

“—of course. If instances continue at this pace I would be obligated to—”

“You’re serious.”

The words plop out of Dee’s mouth and land on the table between him and the teacher in some type of ugly blob. He hadn’t meant for it to be so weak, so pathetic, but his tone to wobble somewhere between the four syllables just so much that the teacher’s mouth snapped shut and Mr. Hart’s gentle hands paused from examining his knuckles. Dee wants to take it back, wants to yank the words from the air and pretend they were never there.

Dr. Ackroyd adjusts his glasses and their eyes meet for the first time. Dee thinks it’s a lot like staring into the galaxy, into the great expanse, and knowing that it was also staring back at him.

“I’m very serious. I wear a necktie.”

It sounds like a joke when he says it, and maybe there’s a flicker of his lips that tells Dee is alright to laugh at it.

Dee feels like crying instead.

“I think you’ll find I’m not like your other teachers, Mr. Ekans.”

Mr. Hart smiles at that, smiles the whole conversation, smiles like the sun is shining and the birds are singing and global warming isn’t gonna end all life on Earth by the time Dee is thirty. He lets go of Dee’s injured hand and Dee finds he misses the warmth and the gentle touch. “I have some bandages in the back. Ro, can you help me?”

The Resource Officer makes some noise but the nutritionist takes him by the wrist and drags him into the kitchens. Dee thinks the man is too gay to have really protested anyway.

The teacher and him sit silently as the echoes of their voices, of Mr. Hart’s laughter fades until its just them in their own little untouchable bubble.

“Mr. Walker, your previous science teacher, left me several notes about his classes.” Dr. Ackroyd says, “As well as the grades.”

Dee itches the burns on his neck, a little angrily. He doesn’t say anything because there’s nothing to say. It’s midway through the year and there’s very little he can do to bring his grade up as far as it needs to go for science alone. Not to mention English, Mathematics, and History.

“He mentioned that I might find you to be a difficult student, but I disagree with that assessment.” Dr. Ackroyd prompts Dee to look at him again, “I get the impression you are a very bright student, Mr. Ekans, and very few people choose to see that part of you. I’ve met a lot of students in my time teaching in the United States and abroad. Most of them get by with less than a fourth of the effort than you’ve most likely put in. However, I can’t change the grades that your teacher has already declared for you.”

He pauses, “I can however enter a grade that hasn’t been posted yet.”

Dee dares to let his chest fill with that unfamiliar feeling, that whimsy mystical emotion everyone called hope.

“As it happens, you have a 62.45 percentage in this class as of right now. Mr. Walker was notoriously slacking when he entered any of your grades, so many of your grades are resulting zeroes from missing work, including the midterm from last week.”

The midterm that Dee had finished five whole minutes before everyone else and handed into to Mr. Walker directly. The one that he’s sure the teacher had finished grading before the end of school bells had rung.

Dee hangs on the teacher’s words, too desperate for the chance Dr. Ackroyd was offering to be embarrassed about how pathetic he was acting. He was starving and this ridiculous teacher was dropping him breadcrumbs.

“So, if you are open to recreating the work that has gone missing and putting time aside to retake a midterm I will provide, I would be more than happy to enter in the missing grades.”

“You’d…you’d do that?”

Dr. Ackroyd seems surprise that Dee would even have to ask.

“Of course. I see no reason to withhold grades as long as you put in the effort, Mr. Ekans.”

Dee doesn’t care if it’s a dream. If its fake. His knuckles hurt, his chest constricts, he’s not sure he can make words even if his life depended on it. A lump forms in his throat, thick and heavy and dangerous. Because that’s all he’s wanted, all he’s needed since he was six: just someone to treat him like everyone else.

Not Lucky. Not pitiful. Just Dee, by himself, putting in the effort for the education he needed.

“Just please, if you could refrain from making anymore, ah, serious threats against the rest of the student populace.”

And that’s all it takes for him to break.

Mr. Hart comes back hand in hand with Resource Officer Roman and they find Dee attempting to forcibly remove an onslaught of tears from his face before the bell rings to release the students, and Dr. Ackroyd appearing as incredibly uncomfortable as possible as a slew of confused apologies tumble from his mouth.

And all either of them do is smile.

Dante Ethan Ekans hated every single teacher in his high school.

(Except one. And a Resource Officer. And a Nutritionist.)

[Sequel]

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part One.

Cynthia said I had to go to school today. “It’s your senior year Connor,” she said, “you can’t miss the first day,” which was just complete bullshit. I tried to compromise, “I’ll go tomorrow,” I told her. No, I had to go. Mom just wanted to get me out of the house after watching me sleep and sit in my room all summer. “Today’s a chance to go make some friends” she told me.

Look it’s not my fault that I don’t have any fucking friends, and it’s not my fault that I can’t make friends because everyone thinks of me as big, bad Connor Murphy, the freak. I’m not a freak. People just have this false idea of me in their head and have never taken the time to actually get to know me. I’ve always been a hot topic of rumors, even though I’ve never done anything really worth talking about. Except the incident in second grade. Someone explain to me why something so stupid that happened when I was 8 years old is something people still use to talk shit about me. It is still a story that gets told from time to time, “oh stay away from Connor Murphy, he’s batshit crazy. He once threw a printer at Mrs. G. because he didn’t get to be line leader” That’s not the whole story. No one knows what really happened because they weren’t even there. I mean, yes I was upset that I didn’t get to be line leader, even though it was my turn, and yes I did shove the table that the printer was on, which caused it to fall. So, I mean, I guess I threw the printer in a sense, but what does it matter? I was a child. Do you know how much embarrassing shit people did in elementary school that doesn’t get talked about because, well geez, they were children, and they’ve grown since then. Fucking Alana Beck peed her pants probably seven times that year, but we don’t talk about that. Whatever.

Most likely, no one is going to be telling that story this year. There’s some new hot gossip about me. See, I spent my junior year at a private school. It was awesome, I actually had a friend, and I was doing well, but I got kicked out. They did random locker searches, and I had weed in my locker, barley half a gram. The best part is, the weed wasn’t even mine. Not that anyone cares, not that anyone is going to ask, or listen to my side of the story. Ironically, they found so much Adderall, in probably 50 lockers, and they got away without so much as a warning. So, pills are okay, I guess, but marijuana isn’t.

Look, unlike what my parents might think, it isn’t dangerous or addicting or bad. Newsflash weed doesn’t hurt anyone. You can’t die from being too high, but pills, you can die from taking too many pills. I told them that too, I showed them statistics and research to convince them marijuana isn’t bad, they sent me to rehab to help with my ‘addiction,’ but all it did was teach me new, worse habits and prescriptions for mood stabilizers.

I’ve always been on medications to try to help me with the depression and paranoia, but I don’t like how they make me feel. Usually, I keep the pills hidden so Mom and Dad don’t catch on that I’m not taking them. I just prefer weed anyways; weed just calms me down, while the other crap I’ve been prescribed puts in a zombie like daze. I just smoke a little weed every now and then to help me get through the day.

People are going to say whatever they want, but I guess that it doesn’t help that I smell like pot anyways. That smell, no matter how many times you wash your clothes or spray your belongings with ferbreeze, never goes away. Regardless, I know I’m not the only stoner, not that I’m a stoner, but most people act like it’s a fucking personality trait to smoke. They’ll go online and post pictures of their bowls and blunts, thinking that they’re cool, but I’m a burnout freak because I smoke.

Despite my protests, I found myself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car as she drove me to school. Some people might think it’s lame to be driven around by their little sister, but I fucking hate driving. I get too distracted, plus, other people drive like absolute nimrods. I got enough stress in my life, why add the stress of driving.

The first day of school is always a waste; you never do anything meaningful or important. People just spend the day catching up with friends, talking obnoxiously loud about their trip to Italy, or how they built houses for the homeless, and you just do ridiculous ice breakers and make nametags. It’s not like I’m going to learn anything, I’m just going to sit through hours of “two truths and a lie.” Plus, I’ll have to sit through the embarrassment of no one volunteering to guess which of my statements is the lie. No one wants to waste their time with that. Though, I will admit, I came up with some good ones this year, “My birthday is 420, I like to draw, and I have a dog.” The lie, obviously, is that I have a dog. I’ve always wanted one, but Larry has always said no, “they’re too messy.”

I try not to let other people bother me. I just focus my gaze straight ahead, walking as quick as I can to my first class, avoiding obstacles the best I can. In my opinion, people that stand in the middle of the hallway to have their conversation do not deserve rights. Hi, you, and your conversation is not more important than me trying to get to class. Have some fucking decency and at least move over to the side, Jesus Christ. On the bright side, people do tend to move out of my way. It might be out of fear, but it’s convenient. I put my head down as I cut through the middle of two people. “Hey Connor”  a boy calls, “Nice hair length,” he continues, “very ‘school-shooter’ chic.” Wow, was that really necessary; did they really have to stop me to tell me that? That’s what I need too: Connor Murphy, not only a freak, but also looks like a school shooter.

I stop in my tracks with a heavy thud as my boots hit the ground. I whip around to face the voice. I look up with a narrow gaze and see Jared Kleinman and Evan Hansen. They are two nobodies like me, but I guess they think they’re better than me.

“I was just kidding” Jared stutters, “It was a joke.”

“Oh, I know.” I say, with no emotion, “I thought it was funny, I’m laughing can’t you tell?” I close the space between us until I’m in his face, towering over him. I’m not a scary person, but I am 6’3”, so my height tends to intimidate people, plus I really like wearing all black. My physical appearance is really a shell of armor, no one knows how sensitive I really am. At least, people can’t walk all over me if they are scared of me. I stare him down, “Or am I not laughing hard enough for you” I say.

I found, that if you stare at someone long enough, they will leave you alone. Mostly, because they are creeped out. It must be working, because Jared takes a step back, “you’re such a freak,” he says as he turns to make a run for it.

Evan’s still standing there, laughing quietly to himself. “What the fuck are you laughing at” I snap at him.

“N-nothing” he stutters.

I turn to him, “do you think I’m a freak.” He’s still laughing to himself. “You’re the fucking freak,” I yell as shove him.

I pause for a moment, looking down at Evan, who is now on the ground. He looks scared, like really, scared. Does he think I’m going to beat him up? Has he been beaten up before? Who hurt him? I scan his body quickly; this kid is already in a cast. Great, I just pushed an injured kid. Maybe I really am a freak. What the fuck is wrong with me? I collect myself and quickly walk away. I don’t have time to deal with this. It’ll probably be a few hours before this goes around the school.

I make it to my locker, my eyes are still on Evan, who is still on the ground. He’s been on the ground for a while, surly he should’ve stood up by now. Fuck, did I break his legs? Zoe walks up to him and helps him up. He’s fine. I watch as Zoe talks to him for a few minutes. Even my own sister isn’t on my side. Thanks Zoe, I’ll remember that the next time you want me to cover for you when you sneak out. Mom and Dad might think I’m the fucked-up child, but they have no idea what kind of shit you get into.

Each class is a blur as I sit through hours of introductions. Finally, its time for lunch. I don’t have friends to sit with, and I don’t like to give people the satisfaction of watching me sit by myself, so usually I spend the period in the library. I’m safe among the stacks. Books can’t judge you, but they can be an escape from your fucked reality. I can’t find a place to sit in the main library, so I go in the back by the computers. There’s a kid talking on his phone, but I don’t think he’ll mind my presence. I find a seat in the corner and lose myself in a book.

Suddenly, I’m snapped back into reality when the printer goes off. It scared the shit out of me. I look at the paper the printer is spitting out, “Dear Evan Hansen” the top reads. I look over to see Evan hunched over a laptop, talking to himself. I don’t think this kid has any friends either, besides Jared, but Jared’s a dick. Evan isn’t a freak like me, but he’s just someone always in the background. Everyone knows who he is, but no one cares.

I should probably apologize to him about earlier.

I grab the paper and walk over to him, “Hey.” He looks up at me, startled. “So, what did you do to your arm anyways?” I ask him.

He looks down at is arm as if he’s confused as to what I’m talking about. “Oh”, he stammers “I fell out of a tree.”

I look at him, expecting him to say more, he doesn’t. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

I look at his cast, its blank. I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have any friends. “Hey, no one’s signed your cast yet; I will,” I say.

“No, no you don’t have to” Evan whines.

“Do you have a sharpie?” I ask. He stares at me for a moment before he starts digging in his backpack and pulls out a marker, handing it to me. I grab his arm, and he winces. I ignore that and write my name as large as I can along the side of his cast. I figure, no one else is probably going to sign it, so I might as well take up as much real-estate  as I can. “There,” I say, “now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Evan stares at his cast.

I remember that I still have his paper, “is this yours?” I ask, holding it out to him, “I found it on the printer, it says ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ that’s you right?”

“Oh, that’s nothing, um, it’s stupid.” He tries to grab the paper from me, “It’s just an assignment”

I pull it out of his reach and look at it, my eyes land on Zoe’s name, “because there’s Zoe” I read aloud, “Did you write some freaky shit about my sister?”

“No, no” He stutters, trying to rip the paper out of my hand, “Why would I do that?”

“You wrote it because you knew I would find it” I snap, “So I would freak out and you can tell everyone that Connor Murphy is a fucking freak.”

“No” Evan cries.

I shove the paper into my pocket, “Fuck you” I say as I storm away.

I walk out of the library, and right out of the front door of the school. There’s still two periods left, but I don’t care, I’ve had enough of today. I keep walking, I don’t even know where I’m going. Eventually, when I’ve put enough distance between me and the school, I pause to pull out my headphones and put on some music. I don’t even care what I’m listening to, it just has to be loud enough to block out my thoughts.

I don’t feel bad about pushing Evan anymore; honestly that kid deserves way worse. He had to know I was in the room with him. No one is that oblivious to the world to not even notice that they’re not alone. Why would he write about my sister? Like does he have a weird fantasy about her that he just had to get down, and print out? Look buddy, most people keep their private thoughts in their head, where they belong.

I eventually reach a park, its oddly empty, but I guess all the children are still at school. I sit on a bench and throw my bag onto the ground, it rattles with impact. I pick it up to investigate the sound; I dig around until I find the source: a prescription bottle. I forgot that I had put my meds in here. I hold  the bottle and read the label, it’s good old Prozac. I have refused to take it ever since it was prescribed to me. If you look it up, it has so many warnings and side effects listed, it doesn’t even seem worth it. Like there’s a small chance this will make you feel better, but there’s an even bigger chance that it might kill you, or make you want to kill yourself. The irony! They give you the medicine because you think about killing yourself, but the medicine makes you want to actually kill yourself. Do doctors even care about you, or do they just write you a prescription, so you go away?

I’ve never taken a single dose of this medication, outside of the hospital where they basically force it down your throat, but now seems like a good time to. I feel so numb, what does it even matter, it’s supposed to help me right? I swallow a pill, dry, and then another, and another. I keep swallowing them until I run out of pills. I throw the empty bottle on to the ground. Suddenly, I have a killer headache; I can feel my heart pounding, thoughts are racing in my mind. I lay down on the bench and take a deep breath.

[sariastrategos]

“People are staring” Lambert muttered, dropping his shoulders and curling in on himself. He was gently hoisted up by the arm he had linked with Jaskier.

“Of course they are darling, we’re gorgeous.” He replied, staring straight ahead, apparently paying no mind to the turning heads.

“Jaskier-“

“Lambert.”

This was a terrible idea. The singular worst idea he’d ever had.

“They’re not staring because we look good, Jaskier”

“Whatever gives you that impression?”

“Gee, I dunno, could be the confused fucking looks they’re throwing at us. Or maybe the muttering right after? How about the snickers?” He replied darkly, hunching back in on himself at the disgusted looks an older couple had openly plastered on their faces “what the fuck are you looking at you wrinkly old farts? Never seen a man in a fucking dress before? Get the fuck outta here!” He snarled.

Jaskier places a hand on his upper arm and hauled him back on course. “Calm down, dear.”

Easy for him to say. Walking without a care in the world despite his minty green, flouncy dress, coral kitten heels and matching purse. Man was wearing a choker and pink lip gloss for fucks sake.

He’d been feeling more confident lately, mostly thanks to Jaskier and his brothers’ support. They never flinched when he came out all done up after three hours of Jaskier’s meticulous attention. Didn’t blink when he wore leggings and a loose top or lounged around in skirt.

Well, besides telling him to close his damn legs, they didn’t need to see his balls airing out.

But yeah, aside from that the only comment they made was to tell him he looked nice, the colour suited him, his legs looked great in that outfit, etc. Nothing but supportive, even if they teased him. If anything the teasing helped, made everything feel normal. So yeah, he’d been feeling confident. Comfortable in his own skin, even.

He mentioned to Jaskier as he practiced his makeup that he kind of felt good enough to maybe leave the house. In his makeup. And a dress. Maybe some cute heels.

Jaskier had leapt on the idea. Gushed about how pretty they’d look, walking down the street in the spring sunshine. He wasn’t shy about anything, he and Geralt went out all the time with him dressed up. Even if he was just wearing makeup he didn’t care and neither had Geralt.

So they’d decided on a small outing. Nothing big, no malls or clubs or anything, just...out for ice cream and maybe a stroll through the park. Nothing too far from the house.

Jaskier’s enthusiasm had certainly been a deciding factor in this little outing but he wasn’t feeling as confident now. He knew he wasn’t getting as many looks as he thought, not even a quarter of the people on the street spared them a glance but he felt every. Single. One.

It was the last straw when a group of fucking frat fucks openly stared and laughed.

“I can’t do this. Let’s go back, those little shits are actually laughing in our faces.”

“Do you know them?” Jaskier asked, looking at him quizzically, completely ignoring the bastards with a death wish on the bench they were passing.

“No, the fuck? Should I know them?”

“No.” Jaskier said simply, turning and looking straight ahead again, chin tipped back and head held high “they’re not worth knowing.” He continued, tugged their linked arms to get his feet moving again when he tried to stop and turn around. “And if they aren’t worth knowing, their opinions aren’t worth your consideration.”

He let himself be tugged along as he considered this thought. Compelling argument but it didn’t stop the curl of shame and fear that twisted his guts when one of them wolf whistled and the others laughed.

The growls he heard rumble behind him startled him. He looked behind, catching Jaskier’s grin on the way, to see both Geralt and Eskel glaring daggers at the boys. Every line of their posture was menacing, from the snarls on their faces to the wide set of their feet. The boys on the bench, so brave a moment ago when they were jeering, fell silent and stared, wide eyed, at the two enormous men.

“It is helpful to have twin mountains of muscle ready to tear out throats with their teeth walking behind you.” Jaskier said, throwing a fond look and sly grin behind them. “I’ve thought several times that they should rent themselves out as escorts for this very purpose.”

They watched as Eskel and Geralt took two menacing steps in the boys’ direction and they went tripping over each other to bolt the other way. It was satisfying to see them run, comforting to know he had their support but also depressing that he’d not been the one to scare them off himself.

He suddenly felt ridiculous, all trussed up in a purple wrap dress, meticulously applied makeup and a wig Jaskier had picked up somewhere. Jaskier had offered him some contrasting yellow heels but they were a little too bright for his confidence level and he’d settled on a black pair instead.

He looked alright, his silhouette was a fuckin mess without the proper padding or a clincher but he thought he looked at least a little nice before he left. His makeup was fucking flawless.

He’d shaved off his goatee for this.

But all it took was some awkward looks and mocking from some little shits who’d barely come out of puberty and every ounce of his good mood had been fucking shattered. Everywhere. He was walking on the debris of his budding comfort with his super cute shoes. He could see the purple nail polish from his pedi through the peep toes of his heels as he crunched down on the remains of his hope.

He hadn’t realized he was spiralling until the arm linked with his tugged him forward and another snaked around his shoulders. Both gave him a light squeeze and he blinked to see the arm around him belonged to Eskel who was giving him a smile.

“Fuck ‘em, Lam, their shit ain’t worth yours.” He gave him another squeeze “you look great, they just don’t know how to handle how confused you made their sexuality.”

He snorted and let himself stand up a little straighter, marveling at the extra inch of height he now had on his older brother. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be jacking themselves to thoughts of me tonight”

“I will be” Jaskier commented mildly from his other side, wrapping his free arm around Geralt’s, who was still glaring after the boys. “You’ve got such lovely legs, dear heart, I wish you’d show them off more.”

“Yeah I’ll just throw out all my jeans and fill my drawers with Daisy Dukes and leggings for you.” He rolled his eyes and let himself keep walking, trying to ignore the people around them. They really weren’t that bad, hardly anyone looked their way but it felt like everyone was looking at him. He couldn’t pull this off as well as Jask with his big, bright eyes, long lashes and soft features.

“Don’t tease, darling, it’s cruel” he replied and planted a smooch on his cheek. “Before you fuss, your makeup is fine.” He was grinning from ear to ear, walking like a natural in those shoes, with a practiced sashay to his hips that did wonders to catch the eye. It sure kept catching Geralt’s eye as his skirts swished and his hip bumped his regularly. There was a reason he’d chosen to walk behind them at the start of this after all.

“How do you do it?” He asked “how do you walk like that?”

With a confused look Jaskier watched him for a moment “the same way you do darling, lots of practice and sore feet-“

“No I mean how do you walk like you don’t give a fuck? You don’t feel all the eyes burning into you?”

Jaskier paused and considered his answer “Well that’s just it darling, I don’t give a fuck.” He smiled brightly “their opinions don’t mean a damn thing to me, chances are I probably won’t see any of these people again and if I do we won’t remember each other.” He hugged his arm to him tightly “and what’s more is it’s my life, not theirs. This makes me feel happy and fulfilled and their opinions don’t, so which matters more?”

That took some time to process. They continued to walk and Lambert dimly recognized the warmth of the sun, the conversation flowing around him, the weight of his brother’s arm, as all secondary to his thoughts as he took Jaskier’s words in. He was right, the logic was sound, but it didn’t stop him from curling in on himself whenever he heard people muttering as they passed by. For fuck’s sake they probably weren’t even talking about him but it felt like they were.

He had to restrain himself from lashing out twice before Eskel tightened his arm around him again and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Remember, confidence is key, little sister”

He almost got whiplash with how fast he snapped his head around to look at him. He’d never called him that before, no matter how much makeup or what skirt he was wearing. His eyes must have been saucers but Eskel just gave him a bolstering grin, the same look he’d give him when he was practicing footwork or frustrated with a brew that wouldn’t turn out. It was comfortingly familiar. “back straight, head up, no more of this self-conscious hunching, it doesn’t suit you”

“It really doesn’t” Geralt chimed in “The Lambert we know is proud, loud and obnoxious. Let that Lambert back out.”

It took a little bit, but eventually he straightened his spine, Vesemir would have killed him to see him slouching like that. A coaxing smile from Jaskier and he tilted his chin up a little more.

“That’s better.” Eskel grinned “the rest of the world can go fuck itself, show them what a fierce bitch you are.”

Lambert gave him a cocky grin that he was actually starting to feel “I am a fierce bitch. Fuck ‘em I am, I’ll claw their fucking eyes out if they don’t like it.”

“That’s the spirit darling! With the right nails, anything is possible!” Jaskier, always a font of support and violence.

“Fuck, thanks Eskel, now they’re fucking feral and it’s your fault” Geralt looked up at the sky like he was praying for strength. Jaskier and Lambert could feed off each other’s destructive energy for hours.

“You’re just jealous you’re nails can’t cut throats”

Jaskier and Lambert ignored them, discussing the merits and drawbacks of stiletto nails.

He still had a long way to go before he’d leave the house in makeup without at least one of them, but he felt good for today.

[ashleyswrittenwords]

The Homecoming Formal [ZeLink College AU]

Note: Hi hello it’s me, Ashley. I know this isn’t HTBAQ, but I’ve been drabbling on the side and I very much like this idea. Also there’s a hot fraternity president that I happen to know and anyway, thought it was topical. This is kind of mature rated? Kinda? If you don’t like reading about sexual mentions and stuff or if you’re uncomfy. This will be a couple chapters and then I’m retiring the idea lol. It’ll be cute, promise.

Summary:  [Zelink College AU][Greek Life] Zelda had a one-night stand months ago and finally got over a big break up, but the shame of it happening weighs down on her. To make matters worse, her best friend keeps pushing her to go to formal with a fraternity boy. What happens when she meets their homecoming fraternity's president and her past mistake comes back to haunt her? Can I make this sound any more like a Wattpad book? Can this be anymore cliche? Yes, probably.

Warning: Mentions of the sex.

The Homecoming Formal

The bass seeped from the floor and through her wedges. She was completely off beat but she finally felt comfortable dancing. Dancing wasn't really the word for it, it was more or less being very low and bobbing with the music. There was lots of alcohol and none going on Zelda's tab. She was happy, shouting to the music that the club provided and danced with her girlfriends without a care in the world.

Maybe Midna was right and she should get out more.

It helped when she was paying the bill.

Men had come around every now and again, asking to dance with them and offering drinks. Midna was very staunch about the sudden arrival of testosterone and manhandled them away. Zelda had grinned wryly repeating how much she loved everyone. More jelly shots please.

Countdown and shots. It was a cycle.

How many did she have? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered right now. Zelda wanted to have fun.

She turned around and didn't see her friends. They were on the dance floor. She felt wobbly and a steady sense of vertigo washed in. Okay, the bar is nice now anyway. The bar stool was cozy and gave her relief to the balls of her feet. Someone brushed against her, slurring to the bartender. Zelda didn't recall what was said, but the nice drink lady was reluctant to give him more. Oh, it was a man. She had looked at him and he had looked at her.

Fun had found her.

Daren ΚΗΣ : Yo me and the boys are tailgating across the street from the stadium. You going to the game tmrw?

Zelda's eyes flicked up to her phone, which dinged, and pulled her from her glazed over stare. She sighed and stretched before grabbing the phone.

Me: Yea

A beat passed before the phone buzzed again.

Daren ΚΗΣ: Ahahah slideeee

She squinted at the phone screen and opted to stare off into the corner of the library. The calculus homework that glared at her from her computer screen seemed to hate her more than she hated it. A woman bounced through the door and immediately locked eyes with her. Her stare was piercing and Zelda felt like crawling under the table.

"Zelda Harkinian, what are you still doing here?" Midna said, accusatory.

"I…" Zelda paused, her brain not giving her a snarky reply, "I needed a couple more hours before the test." The woman picked up the cup of coffee that sat under Zelda's chin. It was still half full and hours old. The scent was comforting, at least.

"Cold coffee again?" The scary woman dumped it into a trashcan without another word, drawing attention from the people around them.

Zelda wined, mourning the lost cup, "Midna! You know that coffee here is expensive!"

"Only because you're too lazy to get off campus for a fix, besides you're addicted. Look at those eye bags! You know we have a social this weekend and you still insist on torturing your skin. What have I told you about at least using eye cream?" She went on, the blonde zoning out. She wondered how she would get out of this one. Midna was obsessed with socials. Especially this year, being that their homecoming fraternity was Kappa Eta, also known as Kappa Eta Sigma. It didn't make complete sense to Zelda, she wasn't the one for Greek drama, but if it made Midna happy she would be happy for her. In all honesty, a lot about being in a sorority confused her. It took a lot of pressure from her friends to rush with them two summers ago.

It was quite possibly the worst experience she'd ever faced. Standing outside sorority houses for fifteen minutes in the hottest days of summer weren't exactly what the movies depicted. The feeling of an hour's worth of makeup melting off her face made her shiver to this day. But to her friends it was something worth doing and Zelda couldn't complain. She met amazing people in her house and having Midna joining her made it even better.

"Anyway, tomorrow before the game we're going by their tailgate."

Zelda groaned, "Are you serious? Why? I'm trying to pull a disappearing act on one of their brothers."

"Because they're our homecoming frat and Paya said everyone has to stop by at least once if we're going to the game. And free drinks and free boys," Midna pulled her phone out, typing something in it was a grin. "Is it Daren again?"

"Yes," Zelda said breathlessly, shutting her laptop closed, "He's been either texting or snapchatting me everyday since the date party." She flung her backpack on and followed her tall friend out, looking around shortly for any of Daren's frat brothers. Believe it or not, fraternities were more invested in drama than any top-tier sorority. They always played that bad boy persona, but could never dish it. Of course, in Zelda's opinion. If anything, they were middle schoolers in snapbacks… just barely old enough to drink cheap liquor.

"Hey, I told you to get that other guy on their list. The blond one with the tan."

Zelda huffed, "I didn't know I was being catfished, Mid. Not my fault."

"Just, you know, make out with some other guy in front of him. He'll get the message."

"I'd rather die."

Midna looked up from her phone with another striking stare. How does she get her winged eyeliner so perfect everyday? "Don't give me that, Zel. You try pulling that perfect scholar attitude on me all the time, but I know you can get some if you really wanted to."

Zelda rolled her eyes, "I've no clue what you're on about."

"Really? After that last boy? When we went clubbing and you wore that skimpy black dress and we lost you. I thought you were kidnapped, but you just ran off with a boy."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Zelda felt heated, "It was one night and I regret it." And she did truthfully regret it. That night haunted her as much as it did thrill her. She couldn't remember his face or name but he sure was good at-

"OMG you're so thinking about it."

"No!" Zelda fumbled as they descended down the hill, almost tripping in front of a man on a longboard, "I'm not!"

"Oh, my Zelda. Growing up so fast! Having one-night stands with hot men! I'm so proud," Midna pretended to wipe a tear. Some random girls caught wind and looked at the duo in a strange manner.

The blonde girl fumed, crossing her arms and pulling her math notebook close. She thanked her stars for the leggings she decided to wear. The days were getting cooler, but she couldn't bear to turn to jeans just yet. The oversized shirt she wore displayed her universities name: North Hyrule University.

"When is your calc exam?"

Zelda looked at her phone, "At 2. So, I have a couple hours to kill."

Midna looked at her with that look that made Zelda worried.

"Midna what are you planning?"

Silence.

"Midna."

A smile was being wrestled with on her red lips.

"Oh, Hylia above help me."

The accused girl gasped dramatically, "My stars! Would you look at that! Kappa Eta has a tent put up just down the sidewalk. What a coincidence!" Zelda's eyes were immediately pulled towards a row of tents in the common area. Damn it, of course she would lead us here. It was still early in the semester so clubs and chapters were scouting for freshmen. There was an outlandish difference between sorority and fraternity recruiting, the latter going through recruitment events throughout the semester. Sorority rush however was a week filled with suffering. It wasn't fun for anyone involved.

"I really don't want to go," Zelda whined.

"You are," Midna looped her arm around Zelda's as a move to take her as captive. She was evil. "We should at least meet some before the social. Maybe we can get you a new formal buddy! Wouldn't that be peachy?"

"Oh, yes. I'm sure any man would want to see me in no makeup and hellish looking. Perhaps I should tell them that this horrible hair bun is Vogue," the blonde groveled, trailing behind Midna who looked positively radiant.

"That may work," Midna said absently, responding to a yell with her name. She had already put on that dazzling smile, while Zelda was trying to remember if she brushed her teeth that morning. Kappa Eta's tent was loud to sum it up. Loud and obnoxious. Several were talking to nervous freshmen and showing off their acts of good deeds. Or whatever frats boasted about. Midna was talking to Kafei, a man she loosely knew from a friend. He seemed nice enough, but Zelda ended up zoning out on the background. Why did frat boys tend to wear the same outfit 8-year-olds wear to their grandma's for Easter? The bright shorts were killing her. At least some of them took the decency of wearing long khakis and a normal tee shirt with their letters. That makes sense.

A hard nudge to the side sent Zelda into the real world again.

"-and Zelda here is our Academics Chairwoman, as you can see she's clearly been wrapped up in it. She's in Calculus 2, you know?"

"Are you finished with the dossier on me?" The accused woman glanced at who Midna was talking to. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name." The man was looking at her odd and his expectant gaze caused her to stop thinking for a moment. His hair was longer than what she usually saw with typical frat boys, shaggy and blond. His eyes contrasted greatly to his skin. He was tan and she wondered if maybe he was on the football team. He seemed like he could be built for that; a linebacker? It occurred to her that this was the same guy that Midna had recommended before for the date party. Zelda mentally kicked herself for not taking more care of her appearance today.

"Link," he finished his weird stare and smiled. Almost hesitantly. It made her wonder if she looked worse than Midna described. Had she actually spared her feelings this time?

No, probably not.

He held out his hand and she took it, shocked for a moment by his delicate grasp. She thought he'd be more firm.

"Zelda, this is Link Forester. He's the president of Kappa Eta Sigma." Now it made sense why Midna sounded so professional. She was the Social Chairwoman after all. She had to be diplomatic in some way. A hot flush crept up Zelda's neck, "Oh, I'm sorry. I probably should have known that."

He kept hold on her hand and laughed, "It's fine. I don't expect people to know me. Why should I?"

"Isn't that Zelda?" A sly voice crept in and it took a lot for the named woman to not roll her eyes. Link dropped her hand as another man approached them. He was shorter by a fraction and everything she didn't want to deal with at the moment.

"Hi Daren," she said, trying not to sound lame.

"'Hi Daren'? That's all I get?" It sounded like he was talking to a child. He glanced at Link, "Excuse me, Mr. President. This is my date to formal."

"Formal buddy, but okay," Midna interjected. To be fair, there was a stark difference. Date suggested… other things. Buddy, of course, was a more amicable form of date and Zelda hoped perhaps her own would change before formal. Daren only gave Midna's comment a side glance. "Where's my hug, Zelda?" He was going in for it and Zelda raised her eyebrow in question. Was he really trying to hug her? She had met him a total of one time.

Link pulled him back by the collar and Daren stumbled back. "Yeah, no. We're not doing that here. I told you and the rest of the guys that it's a bad look on the chapter, but I'm honestly not too surprised that you forgot so quickly." Daren mumbled something but complied.

"I apologize, ladies," Link again was looking at us, softer than he was before with Daren. "It was good to see you again Midna," he said, nodding at her and then looked to me. The same smile from before was playing on his lips. "And it was wonderful to meet you, Zelda."

He turned away, said something else to Daren and went to help his brothers with recruitment. Midna was easy to turn Zelda and herself away and begin surveying the rest of the booths as they walked. Zelda hummed, "I do believe I should have followed your advice."

Her companion scoffed, "Please. I should have followed my own advice."

[joyofcrime-elinorhigh]

Teen Titans Go! REVIEW: (Part 2)

 Hello everybody, my name is JoyofCrimeArt and welcome to part two of my Teen Titans Go! retrospective! Or should I say my Teen Titans.....................................................................................................................No....retrospective.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzKJ4HX4Fuk

Get it? because the show isn't that good! Okay, remember to click that bell icon and turn on notifications to-  So in case your just joining in, this is part two of my Teen Titans Go! retrospective/review. If you haven't seen part one than I highly recommend that you check it out before going forward. To sum up the point I made in my last part...I didn't like this show that much.  WHAT?! A CARTOON CRITIC ONLINE WHO DOESN'T LIKE TEEN TITANS GO?! WHAT A NEW AN UNIQUE TAKE-  But for THIS part we are mostly going to step away from the show itself, and focus on the more meta aspect of the show. So really this part isn't even a review of Teen Titans Go! and more of "A review of elements that are tangentially related to Teen Titans Go! and the conversation around it." But since that title won't fit in the Deviantart title box and it's not "clickbait-y" enough, we're going with this instead.  So I just want to re-emphasize that, for the most part, none of the things I clique here are actually the fault of the shows crew or creators or anything. But I think it's still important to discuss these points because, as I stated last time, I think the conversation around the show is far more interesting than the show itself. So let's dive in.  We'll start with the elephant in the room. Let's talk about the shows handling of critics. This is one of the most notorious elements of the series. Now, I'm just going to say this...I kinda get where the creators are coming from. For real. While there are MANY legit reasons to dislike the show, (Around 4,000 words worth according to my last review alone.) However, out the gate, Teen Titans Go! got hate from ALL cylinders. Young Justice fans bitter about there show being "replaced." Old school Teen Titans fan upset this wasn't season six. People who just wanted action shows. And I'm not going to be high and mighty, as I said last time, I was one of these people. (However, I never made long curse filled rants on Youtube or called for the creators to be shot or anything crazy like that.)  Some people say that reboots are "lazy and easy" because you get a built in audience with zero effort. But I believe the total opposite. Making a reboot sounds like a nightmare. People are much more unforgiving when it's an i.p they love and often times will hate you for the littlest things and won't give you a chance. Just look up how many Powerpuff Girl 2016 rants there were BEFORE any footage of the show was even released. People who are in these positions have it rough, and deserve more appreciation. I can't imagine the amount of hate the two show runners must get on a daily basis, which is probably why they don't seem to have social media accounts.    HOWEVER this is where we get into what I think is one of the biggest problems in society today, and that's strawmaning. And I feel like I shouldn't have to say this, but here I go. And this can apply for anything. JUST BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE WITH AN OPINION ARE ASSHOLES DOESN'T MEAN THAT EVERYBODY WITH SAID OPINION ARE ASSHOLES!  I'm not going to act like there aren't people out there who take Teen Titans Go! WAY to frickin' seriously. That's just factually wrong. But not EVERYONE who has issues with the show are loud obnoxious neck beards who are mad that there "childhood was ruined." And that's how the show and some of the more hostile defenders of the show try to paint "all the haters." Some people just have legit criticisms that they want to get out into the world. When most people write a review of Teen Titans Go!, I don't think there doing so expecting the creators to see it and change the show for them. (I know some do, but again, don't mix the rude jerks in with the rest of us.) They're doing it because they feel passionately, and want to share there opinions with others. Or because they see wasted potential. There's a difference between criticism and hating.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4Ai4G6ccfA

 And the thing is...and this is something that I think I'm in the minority opinion on, but I don't think you HAVE to listen to every piece of criticism you get. I've noticed this trend as of late, where people expect that if they criticize something, the author or creator is obligated to change it. And if they don't then there just "not taking the criticism." But that's not how it works though.  For example, if someone where to tell me "You're reviews are too long." I would definitely take that into consideration, and I would appreciate the input. However, I like overly long analytical reviews, and that's what I'm going to keep doing because that's the type of reviews I wanna make. I might try to shorten them a LITTLE bit, but I would never just start writing few hundred word reviews, cause that's not the art I wanna create.   In the same vain, if Teen Titans Go! doesn't wanna except any of there criticism, that's fine. If the show wants to just go about doing it's own thing, more power to it. But when it does these criticism tackling episodes it's breaking the first rule of the internet. Never let people know when something bothers you. And yeah, I think if a TV show goes out of it's way to tell the critics "you suck" than the critics have the right to say it back. And I know you could say that the show has the right because they started that. But I don't know, there's just some part of me that believes that as the content creator, you have a responsibility to be the bigger person. If that makes sense?  This show basically is "Dab On The Haters: The Animated Series." Really, all the criticism tackling episodes can be summed up like this.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rnd6WLi3TWk

 And the thing is, Teen Titans Go! really doesn't need to defend itself so hard. Because the show is a huge hit! It's clearly super popular with a large group of kids and adults alike. Why be so fixated on pleasing the people who you know your not going to please, when you can focus on the people who love you just the way you are? You don't see shows like Powerpuff Girls or Ben 10 reboots attacking the "haters" like this, and those shows don't even have the added advantage of being that popular.  As it stands, Teen Titans Go! is a show that reeks of insecurity. And as much as I shit on the show last time, it shouldn't be. Clearly the show is doing something right if it lasted this long. Teen Titans Go! the show that taught me how NOT to handle criticism. And honestly, I thank the show for this. I'm a sensitive guy, and I can be very harsh on myself. Without Teen Titans Go! acting as an example of what NOT to do, I could see myself becoming that kinda guy, who mask his insecurities with a faux ego.

Hey...did you see the way I just casually used the word "faux." Oh, I'm great and anyone who think otherwise is dumb...  However, I will give Teen Titans Go! this. I do think that when the humor goes "meta" it's when the shows comedy is at it's best. Because the people behind this show clearly know what this show is. They know it's reputation and it's status among other works of superhero fiction. Plus, as I said, the conversation around the show is far more interesting than the show itself. So when the show tacking these more interesting aspects the episodes tend to be more interesting as well. It's rare to find a show as self-aware of it's own status, and they take advantage of every opportunity that this presents.  I just wish it could do so without insulting me is all.  But do I even have the right to be criticizing this show though? I mean it's for kids, and kids clearly like it. Who right do I, a fully grown adult, have to stop kids from enjoying what they like. Why do I have to stand here and push my radical pro-Steven Universe agenda?!  That has been an argument I have been seeing a lot lately. And honestly, there are some aspects I actually do agree with. If you are reviewing a show with the hope of convincing someone to hate something that they previously liked, just because you hate the show, than in my personal opinion you are reviewing the show for the wrong reason. If you like Teen Titans Go! and somehow made it this far in the review, I want to be clear, you have the right to like whatever you want to like. Whenever I do a negative review of something, it's never with the intent of trying to stop someone from enjoying something they like. I just want to express why I don't like it.    As for the kid show argument, in some instances I agree with that argument too. Kids and adults are different. They have different taste and different things that they relate to. And shows are, from a business standpoint, targeted at a specific age demographics. I don't know why it's okay to call a show an "adult cartoon." but if you call a show a "kids show" it's deemed as an insult to the medium. Why is it wrong to say that I enjoy things aimed at kids? But getting back to the point, adults and kids look for different things in a show. Like, a kid obviously wouldn't be able to relate to the theme's presented in Bojack Horseman, and an adult would likely be board to tears by something like Peppa Pig.  However, the difference here is that Teen Titans Go! airs on Cartoon Network. And thus, it should be held to the same standard as other Cartoon Network shows are held to, since all CN shows are pretty much aimed at the same general age range. Not only that, but the show is rated TV-PG! i.e.) The same rating as Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Regular Show, and Over the Garden Wall. Technically speaking, kids aren't even suppose to watch this show without an adult. So I think it's fair to say that this show SHOULD be made with kids and adults in mind.  If this show was truly intended only for kids, and adults shouldn't watch it, than why are there so many 80's references and scenes that feel very...um....

Totally Spies...If you know what I mean.  Basically, my point here is that it is, in my opinion, completely reasonable to cirque this show. And it's weird because the whole "It's for kids" and "Don't like, don't watch." arguments are usually seen as a joke argument. (even though I personally feel like both arguments do apply in certain situations.) But with this show, I see people using these arguments a lot. And to each there own, I'm not going to stand her and say your argument is "invalid." But I think it is odd that this show seems to be the only show where these arguments is deemed "acceptable."  Also, if you watch Cartoon Networks live feed on a regular basis, it's hard to follow the "Don't like, don't watch." rule because the show is on so frickin' much!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NyxX3ix2jp8

What makes this ad worse is how much this kid looks like Logan Paul...  Cartoon Network spams this show. And while I'm sure that this show would still very much be hated regardless of the scheduling, I think the scheduling is a major factor in how this show manged to stay a relevant topic of conversation in the cartoon community for over five years at this point. Humans, in case you haven't realized this by now, are very stubborn and spiteful creature by nature. If you shove something down someone's throat, or in this case tell that that it's there new favorite show, there bound to have an adverse reaction. Regardless of the actually quality of the product. Also, the show wasn't even "new" when that ad campaign started!  However, I do want to point out that it isn't Teen Titans Go's! fault that it's being spammed so much. It's Cartoon Networks scheduling departments. Traditional television is dying, and channels need to air what gives them ratings. Cartoon Network has always been in last place rating wise, when compared to there rivals Nickelodeon and Disney. They need to air what gives them ratings. And Teen Titans Go! is that. I get it.  However, and keep in mind I'm not an expert on any of this and have no idea what I'm really talking about, I feel like eventually this will come back to bite them. EVENTUALLY Teen Titans Go! is going to end. Even if it's after we're all long dead and buried, the show will die. It's already been running for five years, which is an eternity in kid cartoon time. And when this show does end, CN is going to need something else to keep people coming back. Because as of now, this show and Gumball (which is ending soon.) are the channels only main draws with the ratings. CN, as of it stands now, needs this show. And when this show does end, they'll need some kind of back up series if they hope to survive in this modern, cord cutting climate. This cash cow can't be milked forever.  R-right? P-Please God, tell me it can't last forever!

...Again with the Totally Spies.  But while I'm on the topic of Teen Titans Go! success, I have to ask the question of why? Why do kids gravitate more towards this show, in particular? Because as I stated in the last part, the idea taking an establish i.p and making a more comedic slice of life reboot may have been fresh back in 2013, but now of days we are over saturated with shows just like that. Show's like Powerpuff Girls 2016, Ben 10, and to a lesser extent Justice League Action and Be Cool Scooby-Doo are all more comedic versions of there respected brands, but none of those shows are nearly as successful. (And this isn't me saying those shows are bad because they follow TTG's mold. It's all about execution and I'm trying to make a point.) What does Teen Titans Go! have that these other shows don't?  The way I see it, the reason why Teen Titans Go! is popular while those other "Teen Titans Go-esq shows" (Even the really good ones like Justice League Action.) aren't has to do with intent and execution. Those other shows only chose to become more comedic because it was deemed "more marketable." And while I'm sure that was a factor in why Teen Titans Go! was pitched as a comedy, I feel the difference is how the shows chose to treat itself. Those other shows are made to be safe and marketable. They want fans new and old to like the show, so people will be more likely to buy the merch, which in turn will fund more seasons. Teen Titans Go! on the other hand, doesn't care about playing it "safe." It'll do whatever crazy and messed up things it wants to. The show revels in it's inaccuracy to the original.  A marketing team and a bunch of executives think Teen Titans Go! is successful because it's a comedy based on a beloved brand. But the reason I think it's popular is because it doesn't give a fu*k! To people who like this show, that's why they like it. And that's why the show is so interesting to talk about.  Also there a lot of elements in Teen Titans Go! appeals to kids. It's full wish fulfillment. Who doesn't want all the power and none of the responsibility. Who doesn't want to not have to worry about school or work, and just sit on a couch eating food all day. The show is loud, crazy, and colorful. It appeals to kids, and some adults, on a base level. It appeals to our more lazy and selfish aspects of our personalities that we all have, but chose to keep buried inside out of fear of social consequence. And while all that may sound harsh, I really don't mean that as an insult. There's nothing wrong with a show appealing to those aspects of our subconscious, because it can allow us to express those feelings without acting upon them. It's the same reason why people like characters like Bender from Futurama, or Rick from Rick and Morty. Teen Titans Go! is that for kids, and there's nothing wrong with that. Especially in a time where so many other kids shows are so nice and non-cynical. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  So, to wrap everything up, Teen Titans Go! might just be one of the most fascinating and influential shows of the 2010's? But do I recommend it? Well, despite EVERYTHING I ranted about in part one, from the lackluster comedy, horrendous writing, lazy reusing of voice acting and animation, and the lack of basic understanding when it comes to telling a story...I surprisingly actually do highly recommend it. 

 Listen, just hear me out here. While this show in all technical aspects is a frickin' train wreck. But sometimes, you just want to watch a train wreck unfold. It's fascinating to see just what this show is going to do next. What crazy, half backed decision it'll do. And honestly, it's hard not to admire how much the show just goes for it, even if "it" isn't something that you should go for. The show has this element of "watch-ability" even if I know the show itself isn't technically "good." It's a show worth watching, if for no other reason than to have an opinion on it. I think it's pretty obvious who will love this show, who will hate this show, and who will ironically love it. Maybe it's just Stockholm syndrome, but I will be genuinely sad when this show does come to an end.  But I want to end on this note. If you hate this show with a fire-y passion, feel free to do so. You have the right to like or not like whatever you want. Don't be afraid of giving your opinion just because your worried that people will think that your a "hater" or that it's "cringy to still be talking about Teen Titans Go! in 2018." Value your thoughts and share them with the masses. Just don't be a jerk about it. Don't assume that "everyone who likes Teen Titans Go! are mindless sheeple." or complain that this show "ruined your childhood." Because forcing your opinion down other peoples throats will get you nowhere. And remember that no show last forever. In ten years from now this show will most likely be forgotten about. Think about how many people HATED Johnny Test just a few years ago, and complained about how much CN spammed that show. When was the last time anyone talked about that show? Meanwhile the original Teen Titans, a show that originally aired fifteen years ago, is still getting prime time reruns on Cartoon Network as recently as early 2018. And honestly, without Teen Titans Go!, there's a good chance that the interest in the original Teen Titans wouldn't have risen to the point where it is today. So you should thank TTG for that.  And to the people who defend Teen Titans Go!, I get it. It can be rough loving something when EVERYBODY online hates it. I went threw a similar thing when the Powerpuff Girls reboot came out. It sucks feeling like you're in the minority opinion, but remember that just because something is hated online, that doesn't translate to actually results. There's a reason this show is on it's fifth seasons and got a theatrical film. And if you love this show, if it really is your new favorite show, enjoy that fact that a show you love is as popular and influential as it is. But don't be a jerk about your opinion either. Don't belittle people for feeling passionately about a series and remember that not EVERY person who hates the show isn't some kinda "hater." Never assume that the worse people in a group represents the whole group. And never let other people force you to hate something you love. You're taste make you the individual you are, and never forget that.  I want to end this review with a line from Teen Titans Go! A line that I believe the show sadly forgot about, but is a message that I think is very important. Especially given the current climate of the cartoon community.

 This applies to all sides.  Hopefully this review was able to add something new to the table.  What do you think of Teen Titans Go? Leave any thoughts you may have in the comments down bellow. I love love to hear all opinions from both sides of the aisle, and start some conversations. Maybe help people gain some new perspectives. Also what did you think of the format of this review? Would you like more deep dive retrospects in the future? Please fav, follow, and comment if you liked this review and have a great day.

https://www.deviantart.com/joyofcrimeart/journal/Teen-Titans-Go-REVIEW-Part-2-755898579 DA Link

[hoodoo12]

Drunk writing circle: You pulled me into this disaster and now you want me to go away? Sure! Show me the way out and I'm gone

So I have a stupid family reunion on Sunday, and it’s supposed to rain. This fill may be slightly inspired by the dread of it . . . 

SFW

@ricksanchezdwc

What had you been thinking? Inviting your some times lover, full time pain in the ass to a family reunion? You must have been dropped on your head as a child and the symptom of it was just manifesting now.

But Rick Sanchez was in your aunt’s house, surrounded by your crazy family. Your loud, obnoxious, borderline bigoted family. And not only were they all that, everyone was stuck inside because it was raining cats and dogs outside.

Rick sat by your Uncle Bob on the couch. Both of them were drinking heavily, which was par for the course. You’d managed to evade most of the heavy questions tossed your way: “When are you getting married?” “When are you having kids?” “Are you ever going to use that Liberal Arts degree, or get a real job?” You didn’t know if trying to give vague answers to those sort of things was better than listening to other extended family members touting the brilliance of Donald Trump.

You heard Rick being asked similiar questions and having to weather similar opinions. He wasn’t as polite about shutting the inquistors down.

You wondered if Rick would be willing to share some of his booze out of his flask, but he’d either not, or you would just drain it and earn the reputation as a lush. Both those options weren’t great.

Dinner was potluck. You tried to make innocuous small talk with cousins your own age, but they’d never left the small hometown you grew up in and you’d traveled with Rick, so there wasn’t much you had in common anymore.

It was almost over. Just a little bit longer and you could escape this yearly obligation.

Before you could make your excuses and leave, however, a screaming match broke out. Not unexpected; it usually happened after everyone had a few drinks in them. It was, however, much more embarrassing with a guest. And the fact that everybody was cooped up in an elderly lady’s small house exacerbated it all, and before you knew it, a large majority of your family was shouting at each other.

You scrambled your way to Rick’s side, ducking to try and avoid being spotted and forced to join one of the ill-defined teams that had divided your family. Rick was no stranger to chaos, but even he looked surprised at the venom members of your family were spitting at each other.

You told him to just go. You’d stick around to make sure nobody actually tried to kill anyone else.

“You pulled me into this disaster and now you want me to go away?” he yelled in your ear. “Sure! Show me the way out and I’m gone!”

He had a point. You couldn’t be further away from the front door if you’d tried.

You tried to tell him, “Rick, I asked you not to use the portal gun here, I know that it’ll freak my family out, but--”

“What?!” he yelled.

You’d spoken too softly to be heard over the anger-fueled shouting of so many other people. Giving up on being subtle and suddenly too exhausted to care about the people that you had the misfortune to be related to by blood, you grabbed his lapels and pulled him downward.

“Get us the fuck out of here!” you roared. There was no way for him to not hear that.

“Your wish is my command, baby,” he replied, and wasted no time yanking his portal gun out.

Within seconds you both stepped through the resulting portal and into the downpour. Rick gets into the passenger side of your car while you rushed to the driver’s door. Once in the seat with the door shut, you sit for a moment with your soaked hair and clothes, and just relished the monotonous sound of the rain hitting the roof of the car.

“Nice family,” Rick said.

“Yeah, I know,” you admitted. “Sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “Not your fault they’re all crazy assholes.”

You realize he’s right, like it’s an epiphany. It had been awful, but none of it was your fault or truly, your problem. Despite feeling embarrassed and angry, you smiled.

fin.

[maryellencarter]

memed from @camshaft22 , originally an askbox meme but it's short enough that i can just have opinions at all of it rather than waiting to have the free time to get out of the house and answer asks. (i still have at least a few askmeme questions sitting in my inbox from like a month or two ago... :P)

1. do you find force users or non-force users more interesting? -- non-force users by a mile. there could theoretically be exceptions, like if anybody really got deeply into alternate perceptions / interpretations of the force rather than just kind of toeing the jedi party line as established in the movies, but i haven't seen any that really grab me.

2. which character do you want to be most like? -- oh, now there's a hell of a question. both this and the next one, really. see, let's start at the beginning: when i was a very smol tortoise watching a star war, and by smol i mean like eighteen because that's when i first saw a star war... when i was a smol, i wanted to be han solo (not least because he was hot in a very conventionally masculine way, do not underestimate the importance of that to a smol afab tortoise programmed with much body-loathing ;P), but i identified a lot more with chewbacca. i mean, let's be honest, i was not in great psychological shape as a tiny, and this particular oddment is something i'm still very much sorting out, but: from tiny!jt's perspective, at least, han+chewie is a nonromantic primary relationship that gets displaced by the han/leia primary romantic relationship. but it's still (from anything you see onscreen in the ot) primary *to chewie* even after it becomes secondary to han. that kind of nonreciprocal primary relationship, tagging around after someone who would let me express that kind of devotion and not find it creepy even after they inevitably found a "real", romantic relationship that would be more important to them than me, was the best endgame i could imagine for myself, and frankly i felt like it was way too much to hope for within my own species. i may have spent rather a while wishing i was a dog or something, so that it would be acceptable and appropriate for me to want the most important relationship in my life to be nonromantic. tiny!jt was a *mess*. this was way before i got into fandom, so i didn't really work through it at all or write it down anywhere, either.

uh. that got long. continued under the next question.

3. which character are you actually most like? -- so anyway. yeah. to continue. then i found my way into legends (then still the eu but yanno) and the x-wing books. and then there was wes. ^_^ it would be several more years before i even figured out i *had* ptsd, but here was somebody who had ptsd that presented almost exactly like mine but was also stable and functional and not-depressed and in fact actually cheerful. not to mention he was *also* hot and male and most importantly human, but still showed the kind of undemanding loyalty i was aiming towards, and had it accepted.

(which last is partly because wedge is an oblivious noodle, but still. ^_^ honestly that's probably something to analyze when i'm not one-finger typing on my phone: how much of that kind of relationship being a goal for me is just me being wired kind of subby, and how much is the abuse thing where asking for any kind of emotional reciprocation is Wrong and Too Much. :P)

uh. i had a point here somewhere. um. so i wanted to grow up to be wes, but i didn't think that was an attainable goal. i felt sort of more like wedge with the duty and guilt and everything, but wedge is also way more of a leader than i am, so that's a thing. honestly there was a point there where i felt most like cheriss, just kind of... trying to grow up and dealing with a whole bunch of life shit and intermittently wanting to die a lot. ;P

and now apparently i *am* growing up to be wes and i'm still not sure what to do with that, besides writing a lot of fanfic (which is what i am doing). and trying to figure out the whole subby brain thing. and the executive dysfunction thing. and the not wanting leadership positions thing. and still working on the ptsd thing. and the self-esteem thing. there's a lot.

i'm less wedge, though. which is good. less catholic guilt is always nice.

4. what headcanon will you defend to the death? -- er. i'm not really sure i have any of those. as opposed to just canon things i will make sure people remember and acknowledge. maybe the hoth cuddle pile? you will never convince me the rogues on hoth did not sleep in a giant cuddle pile.

5. what planet would you most like to visit? -- i frankly don't know enough about star wars planets to give a shit.

6. what planet would you most like to live on? -- ditto. not taanab, for sure. mini rancors (and possibly 46-hour days if you don't just disdain that as illogical made-up numbers they threw into the planet guide for variety's sake... ;P I have opinions)

7. who do you hope you never meet? -- of the characters? pretty much any of the bad guys, but my first thought is vader.

8. what is one thing you would change about any movie, show, book, etc? -- ahahahahaaaaaaa. just one? i can't pick. can i say fix all the things about tlj that made me go "okay never watching that"? because there were at least four or five just among the spoilers that i heard. like if it had to be just one i'd make it so poe doesn't disregard chain of command, because that's the one that's making it so i can't rewatch tfa *either*, but from everything i hear, that movie was a hot mess. (alternatively, can i just change the fandom so that people stop saying "if you don't love tlj unquestioningly you're a reddit douchebro!"? because i don't want to unfollow roguepod on twitter but unless i block literally everyone *they* follow there's no way for me to keep that particular Hot Take off my dash and it's consistently re-infuriating me. :P)

uh. i have feelings, apparently. ;P

9. have you ever made fanart or fanfic? do you make edits or any other fan content? -- so much fanfic. so much. i counted last night and just the fics i haven't published yet add up to somewhere around 80k words.

10. do you think the jedi were right or wrong? -- i think the jedi were self-important douchenozzles with a habit of being wrong whenever the plot demanded it. is this a reference to something specific they were right or wrong about? i don't think they have the one true view of the force, and i think they're obnoxious about thinking they do, much like many other religions, so there's that.

11. who is the most underrated character? -- new canon, finn. or rose, possibly, not that i've seen her, because see above re hot mess. old canon, hobbie.

12. do you care who rey’s parents are? -- honestly, i'm at the point in dealing with an open canon where i cannot give fuck about any of the unanswered questions, the upcoming releases, or anything that might happen in the future at all. i haven't even read thrawn alliances. i am Over It, and that is about 99% the fault of the people who keep calling me a reddit douchebro by association. i probably won't see epIX unless kat or sophia tells me i absolutely have to. i'm a legends-only fan at this point. i didn't want to be, i like getting excited about new things, but every time i try it, people are douchewaffles and it's depressing. :P

13. if you could resurrect one dead character, or prevent them from dying, who would it be? -- new canon, hobbie. old canon, there are so damn many options, but probably mara or pellaeon.

14. what is your favorite alien species? -- i'm not sure i actually have an opinion. i have lots of favorite alien characters but like... idek. star wars has a bunch of really well designed alien species and they're all cool.

15. who would you like to bang? -- honestly i don't really care about banging any of the characters. shipping them is more fun. although i would let princess general leia step on me, whether in a sexy way or not.

16. which movie/episode have you watched the most? -- probably anh. the falcon's flying sfx aren't as good as in esb, but if you watch esb without rotj it's just a downer, and i don't really enjoy rotj. like it just doesn't click with me.

17. what is your favorite line? -- uh. from the movies, or from all the star war? uh. either way that's a hell of a question. the one i quote the most from the movies is definitely "we're all fine here, how are you?", but that's more just... versatile. from the books, my favorite is obviously one of allston's, but i'm not sure i could *pick*.

18. what is your favorite star wars book or comic? -- starfighters of adumar. because it is the best one. objectively. ^_^

19. what’s your opinion on legends/expanded universe? -- i'm extremely glad it isn't canon anymore (see also my issues with open canons, but also a significant amount of it was just trash) and extremely glad it's still around.

20. what do you hope will happen in future movies? -- i have no hope. hope is dead. i am, as previously mentioned, Over It. (let oscar isaac kiss john boyega onscreen)

21. if you could switch any character’s gender, who would it be and why? -- in canon? no. there's no point in turning a lady character into a dude, and neither the creators nor the fans are capable of handling anyone who's currently a dude being written as a lady or nb type, even if it was retroactive and they'd always been written that way. just no. it would go Badly. :P

that said. in fanfic? and i am so not capable of writing this yet but i want to. in like five years when we're all living in caves scratching our fanfics on bone. i want to see a cis afab wes janson who just hasn't internalized any of those lessons about not taking up space. who's still brash and loud and enthusiastic and flirtatious and just... female. who doesn't feel any need to explain that she doesn't (or does) want kids, or acknowledge anybody else's opinion about how she dresses or who she fucks. who's smart and badass and competent and out to have fun. and like... *pulls hair* i mean you know the trope. a sexy lady character who knows she's sexy will pretty much always at least consider sleeping her way to the top or whatever. (tim zahn, seriously, stop using that trope. it's not edgy.) i want to see lady!wes dressing up all fancy because it's fun and she enjoys having people admire her body, and like just... not even considering ever having sex for any other reason than "i am attracted to that person, i wonder if they'd like to bang". like it's hard to demonstrate a negative but you know if you read a story like that, where it wasn't called out but just there, your brain would go all fidgety and "what the fuck something is not normal here". or at least mine would. but you know? :S apparently i have a lot of feelings about this too. like trying to portray a lady who's that confident and... and undamaged by misogyny, would be a hell of a thing.

22. favorite droid? -- bb-8. the cutest smol. target has a kit to turn a pumpkin into a bb-8 and i swear i'm thinking about getting a funkin to do that to. even though i already have a bb-8 penny bank and a bb-8 lanyard in storage.

23. what’s your favorite star wars musical piece or theme? -- i'm not great at identifying pieces of music so i'm just gonna go with the opening crawl music.

24. how do you pronounce twi’lek? -- i don't. ^_^ more specifically, i do kind of pronounce it in my head when i read, but it's sort of... neither twee-lek nor twye-lek, but something sort of in between that isn't quite a schwa and might involve an umlaut. Sort of Twülek, if you said it with an Austrian accent. That probably doesn't help at all. XD

25. which character do you have a love/hate relationship with? -- This keeps being a question. I'm honestly not sure I *do* love-hate relationships. I'm like Tinkerbell, I only have room for one emotion at a time. ^_^ Especially with fictional characters, I either love them or hate them. (Unless they're completely meh and I just forget about them, that happens sometimes.)

[bakugold]

Hey can I ask for a imagine or hc for Bokuto when he do something dumb and/or be a dick in class and the quietest girl in class, which never said word just snapped and yelled at him and don't give a shit about him being that strong. And maybe he realised that he may or may not have a crush on her because of that.

Before you read, please read this!

The person who asked this meant BAKUGOU, not Bokuto, i spoke with them priorly before writing this- and (Y/N) is referred to as a girl in this.

Requests are open! Feel free to ask anything! Including imagines, scenarios, headcanons, matchups, etc.

important question: do people prefer imagines written in 1st person point of view? Or 3rd person?  

Any ways! Hope you enjoy and thanks for requesting this- I had a pretty gnarly time ignoring everyone in my anatomy class writing this.

(｡+･`ω･´)

Class was currently not in session, Bakugou and Kirishima are discussing some pretty heated topics while munching on snacks.

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Kirishima questioned Bakugou, crossing his arms.

“All I’m saying is- some girls aren’t strong enough to play a ‘heroic role’, many of them are weak as shit.” Bakugou shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned further into his seat.

“That’s not true. Girls and boys are equally strong. It just depends who they’re fighting against,” Kirishima reasoned.

(Y/N) usually wasn’t the type to eavesdrop during other people’s conversation, but she couldn’t help but to continue to listen. The more she listened to Bakugou’s and Kirishima’s conversation, the more heated and frustrated she got.

Who does Bakugou think he is? To claim that girls can be weak?

“Not all of them are weak- a majority of them are. Like the girls who attend here- many of their quirks are fuckin’ useless for when it comes to being a hero.” Bakugou bluntly replied.

“Bakugou, you can’t just say that! Don’t be an ass.” Kirishima nudged Bakugou with his elbow, in attempt to shut Bakugou up before he offends anyone, not that Bakugou would care if he did or not.

“It’s true?” Bakugou spat.

“If girls were weak,” (Y/N) spoke up, ratherly loudly, drawing other’s attention- Including Bakugou’s.

“..Why would any of us get accepted into UA? Why would they be qualified as heros? Bakugou, we get that you’re secretly insecure with your sad self, so you constantly feel the need to cover up your insecurities by bashing others for no apparent reason. Do us all a favor and think before you speak- you’ll be surprised with how many people would actually enjoy your company by doing so.” (Y/N) snapped, slowly locking her phone, and placing it on her desk as she slowly raised her head to face Bakugou. The expression on her face was cold and expressionless, but on the inside, she was on fire, ready to kick him in his crotch as hard as she could.

The class immediately silenced after hearing her remark.

Kirishima slapped his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from bursting into laughter.

Bakugou’s top lip twitched, growing humiliated and frustrated once the entire class was now filled with loud laughter and fingers pointing to him.

Bakugou has never been called out to that extent. But he honestly found it kind of hot, even though she had just insulted his ass into oblivion. It really bothered Bakugou that she really called him out the way she did- but not to the point where he was going to argue about it with her. He couldn’t provide her factual evidence that girls sucked, it was only a matter of his opinion. Besides- he was being a sexist jerk, of course he was going to get called out for it.

As the class fell silent again- (Y/N) cleared her throat before speaking once again.

“Now, before you make any more sexist comments, just realize that some of us girls actually want to become heroes in the kindness of our hearts, and save people- emotionally and physically. Just butt out for once, and let people enjoy themselves.” (Y/N) finished her statement by standing up, clenching her phone in her hand, and walking out of the classroom swiftly.

She didn’t want be be in a shitty atmosphere with Bakugou and some of her obnoxious classmates (she still loves them, however.)

“You got your ass snatched! By a girl!” Kirishima slapped his knee, cracking laughter.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou muttered, his head facing the door (Y/N) had just exited.

Bakugou sat in his seat, sulking and replaying the embarrassing scene in his head on repeat. The laughter, the stinging words she had said, her cold stone face. It was a feeling Bakugou didn’t like.

Who the fuck does this bitch think she is? Questioning my superiority? A girl. A girl?! She’s nothing but a bug. Who even is she? Where did she find the pair of balls to stand up to me like that? I must have really offended her. Should I apologize? No. She can apologize to me.

His brows were furrowed together tightly, as he was holding a long, tense discussion with himself in his head.

Ah the hell with it.

Bakugou lifted from his seat and walked outside of the classroom. He headed towards the quad, in search of (Y/N).

There she was, sitting underneath a cherry blossom tree, on a bench. She was sitting with her legs crossed, scrolling through her phone with her headphones plugged in.

Has she always been this hot?

Bakugou never had seem to notice before.

Maybe he just never really acknowledged her existence in general. It wasn’t his fault she was so damn quiet at the point she couldn’t be noticed!

But damn. Those fire in her eyes she had when she had confronted him was an image that he couldn’t forget.

He walked up to her with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, and his backpack hanging over his left shoulder sleazily.

He lightly kicked her leg, immediately gaining her attention. She pulled out her headphones, and sat up straight.

“Oi. I’m sorry about… back there.” Bakugou cocked his head, motioning towards the school building.

(Y/N) crossed her arms slowly, lifting her eyebrow.

What more does she want from me? Bakugou thought.

“I can make it up to you. On a date.” Bakugou bluntly suggested. He wasn’t sure quite why he boldly stated that, but he did want to get to know her a little more, and taking her on a date would have probably been the most likely opportunity.

“A date..?” She questioned for his confirmation.

“A date, get together, whatever the fuck people call it.” Bakugou sat down next to her on the bench.

“What? You completely bashed the female population by explaining they’re not strong enough to be heros, and now you’re asking me on a date?” She scoffed.

“I said I’m sorry and I’m willing to make it up to you by taking you out, holy shit!” Bakugou lifted his hands in defense.

“How about this- instead of a date, why don’t you and I have a fight, so I can prove to you just how weak you really are. If I win, I choose where we’re eating for our date.” (Y/N) reasoned.

Bakugou really and weirdly liked that attitude of hers.

“And what happens if I win?” Bakugou leaned into the bench.

“You won’t. I’ll you see you Friday after school then, Bakugou.” (Y/N) stood up collecting her belongings and walked away from the bench, leaving Bakugou alone.

Fuck. Did I just fall for this girl.

Bakugou barely even knew her name, however after today, he was completely intrigued by her presence he was willing to lose the fight with her purposely just so he can still go on that date with her.

[ofthewind01]

Another Tag Thing

Tagged by @hyrulehearts1123​ - am I supposed to be doing things?

...Yes actually. But screw that.

Rules: Answer all questions and tag 20 people.

1. What is your nickname?

I don’t have too many, I prefer my real name (which I’m not revealing), but I have been called Windy and Sketch a lot.

2. What is your zodiac sign?  

Taurus. Whoo.

3. What is your favorite book series?

I don’t read as many books as I used to, but the original Percy Jackson is up there.

4. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

Not really.

5. Who is your favorite author?

Uhm...unsure. Again, I don’t read a lot. NEXT!

6. What is your current favorite song?

Ok, my favorite song pretty much changes weekly, but right now it’s a mix of Dangerous (Left Boy Remix), Two Birds and Older and Taller (Regina Specktor), Animal (Minor Key Version, Chase Holfelder), and who knows what else.

7. What is your favorite word?

Puscilanimous is a fun word. I like that one. I like many words. Too bad I can’t always speak them right.

8. What was the last song you listened to?

Closer + All Star Remix (DJ Dwibbit). I don’t even know why but it’s not bad.

9. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch?

The Great British Baking Show. It’s just so comforting, and honestly so much calmer than American Baking shows. Just so sweet and welcoming.

10. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down?

I spend more time on Youtube than on movies. It’s kinda sad. That and I overanalyze movies way too much. That being said, I just found an amazing movie called Ethel and Ernest and I’d highly reccomend that as a feel good (or feel bad) movie.

11. Do you play video games?

Heheheh no

12. What is your biggest fear?

Being unnoticed or unsuccessful. Or that I’m not doing enough. Or FOBO.

13. What is your best quality, in your opinion?

Uhm... I’m quiet? I’m not loud and obnoxious. Or interesting.

14. What is your worst quality, in your opinion?

I’m too quiet, and really passive. And I have a weird way of jumbling the English language.

15. What is your favorite season?

Fall and Spring are especially pretty.

16. Are you in a relationship?

Good question.

17. What is something you miss from your childhood?

Times where kids in the neighborhood would play outside together. Nowadays everyone is inside on their devices.

I’m not blaming them though, it’s friggin hot and humid down here in the day.

18. Who is your best friend?

I’ve got 4ish irl best friends, and some good friends all around, but I’m hoping to continue making new ones.

19. What is your eye color?

Brown.

20. What is your hair color?

Brown. I’ve got the complexion of a turd.

21. Who is someone you love?

Family and close friends

22. Who is someone you trust?

Completely? Not many people. My parents? Probably?

23. Who is someone you think about often?

Characters I’ve made. It’s dumb but I think about fictional situations a LOT.

24. Are you currently excited about/for something?

I just started concepting a new comic that I’m hoping will be a success - right now it’s got a bit more potential than my other ideas.

25. What is your biggest obsession?

Writing and art, and Youtube. All good.

26. What was your favorite TV show as a child?

I watched a lot of PBS kids as a child, we didn’t have cable. But Fetch with Ruff Ruffman was a good one I always loved.

27. Do you have any unusual phobias?

Not really? I’m not that interesting. 

28. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it?

Behind. I want to work in film after all.

29. What is your favorite hobby?

Concepting, for art and stories alike.

30. What was the last book you read?

I haven’t read a book in a while =u=‘ I can’t remember. I’m probably going to read Les Miserables soon though.

31. What was the last movie you watched?

Ethel and Ernest. Great movie. Srsly.

32. What musical instruments do you play, if any?

I played French horn for a while, I could still pull that off.

33. What is your favorite animal?

EVERYTHING, mostly cats though. And dogs.

34. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow?

I don’t pay much attention to tumblr.

35. What superpower do you wish you had?

Flying. Or wind. Both very useful. However, the process of growing wings is awful.

Trust me I would know.

36. When and where do you feel most at peace?

The beach at night.

37. What makes you smile?

Corny puns, being in good company, cracking bad jokes.

38. What sports do you play, if any?

I was in Marching Band for 4 years - IT’S A SPORT

39. What is your favorite drink?

Sweet Tea, original or wild berry.

40. Are you afraid of heights?

If I have no protection, yes.

41. What is your biggest pet peeve?

Arrogant people who will defend a point without compromise or insight. And sudden loud noises. And little brothers. Ahem.

42. Have you ever been to a concert?

A few, nothing hugely popular though. Mostly Christian stuff... I need to get out more.

43. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

An artist? I didn’t think about jobs much, but I always wanted to create.

44. What fictional world would you like to live in?

Something peaceful. Zootopia would be cool.

45. What is something you worry about?

I worry a lot ok that’s not new. What other people think of me is a big one.

46. Are you scared of the dark?

Only when alone.

47. Do you like to sing?

I’ve been in choir since kindergarden - what do YOU think?

48. Have you ever skipped school?

Nope. I was a good kid. Good and boring.

49. What is your favorite place on the planet?

Not sure, I haven’t been too many places. Florida beaches are really nice though. And so are the North GA Mountains.

And LA is especially beautiful. It’s pretty much all of that rolled into one.

50. Where would you like to live?

Big city, big opportunities. Like where I live now - ATL.

51. Do you have any pets?

A skiddish cat and a younger brother.

52. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl?

Early bird - I’m always the first one awake at a party. But I can play with the family pets then.

53. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better?

Sunsets. You don’t have to be up super early.

54. Do you know how to drive?

Yep. Not the best though, I’ve hit a parked car before.

55. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds, they’re not as clunky.

56. Have you ever had braces?

Yep. For 2 years.

57. What is your favorite genre of music?

I’m not picky, but Alt. is my favorite.

58. Who is your hero?

Too many people, my parents are up there with people like Malala Yousafzai and John Lasseter. 

59. Do you read comic books?

Sometimes. I read a few webcomics, and run one myself though.

60. What makes you the most angry?

Sudden loud noises, and consistent loud noises. And arrogant world leaders. And arrogance in general.

61. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book?

Real book, I do get a bit more bored with electronic reading. Plus, books can’t die.

62. What is your favorite subject in school?

Art! And calculus. Not sure how that works.

63. Do you have any siblings?

A younger brother. He’s awful.

64. What was the last thing you bought?

...food probably. I like food. I think it was Moes.

65. How tall are you?

5′2″. It doesn’t help I’m skinny and short.

66. Can you cook?

I can, with a recipe. 

67. What are three things that you love?

Thinking, writing, drawing. 

68. What are three things that you hate?

Loud noises, rampant childishness, and those who think that the first two will give them power.

69. What is your sexual orientation?

I’m somewhere between straight and ace. Does that make sense?

70. Where do you currently live?

Georgia! Come for the who knows what, die of humidity.

71. Who was the last person you texted?

@hyrulehearts1123​ and another writing buddy. Yay writing buddies.

72. When was the last time you cried?

I think Sunday, for all of 10 seconds. I hate crying. I just do.

73. Who is your favorite YouTuber?

IHateEverything, as of right now. Having fun with that series.

74. Do you like to take selfies?

Sometimes, they don’t really turn out all that good though.

75. What is your favorite app?

If I had a favorite it would probably be iFunny.

76. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like?

Pretty good, they’re great parents.

77. What is your favorite foreign accent?

Children with accents - it’s just so friggin cute!

78. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit?

England, or anywhere in Europe really. I’ve never been there.

79. What is your favorite number?

Yours ;) jk I don’t have one

80. Do you find outer space of the deep ocean to be more interesting?

Space. Galaxies are breathtaking.

81. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil?

I’m pretty much the opposite of a daredevil.

82. Are you allergic to anything?

One type of obscure medicine. That’s about it.

83. Can you wiggle your ears?

Nnnnnope

84. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something?

Pretty often, even if it’s not my fault. That’s not healthy is it?

85. Do you prefer the forest or the beach?

I like both too much to choose. Forest (when safe) is probably better though.

86. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you?

“If you don’t feel stupid, you’re not working hard enough.” - My dad about working hard

87. Are you a good liar?

Occasionally. I wouldn’t let you know though.

88. What is your Hogwarts House?

Gryffendor and Hufflepuff. Gryfflepuff? 

89. Do you talk to yourself?

More than I talk to real people.

90. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Introvert. 100% Unless I’m around extroverts. Then I’m a dork.

91. Do you keep a journal/diary?

Only of story ideas.

92. Do you believe in second chances?

Yes, but it’s less likely someone deserves them after a long period of time of repeated actions.

93. Do you believe that people are capable of change?

Yeah, people can change. But people can also change back.

94. Are you ticklish?

I used to be... thanks friends.

95. Have you ever been on a plane?

Yeah, a bunch. Is that a new thing?

96. Do you have any piercings?

Nope, I hate needles. Hate them.

97. What fictional character do you wish was real?

idk. All fictional characters have pros and cons to bringing them to the real world.

I’m too analytical aren’t I? Let’s just go with Calvin and Hobbes. They’re harmless.

98. Do you have any tattoos?

Nope. I’ve only thought about one, but, once again, NEEDLES.

99. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far?

When I switched from a public school to a private school.

100. Do you believe in karma?

Eh, not really. People make choices that affect them in the long run, that doesn’t mean it’s a supernatural thing.

101. Do you wear glasses or contacts?

Nope. I’m the only one with perfect vision in my somewhat extended family, until you hit some of my cousins.

102. Do you want children?

I couldn’t handle more than one kid. Maybe a dog will work instead.

103. Who is the smartest person you know?

My dad, personally.

104. What is your most embarrassing memory?

I can’t think of anything ultra-embarrassing right now, but I have a tendency to screw up the english language in strange and creative ways.

105. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter?

Only once, a while back. I need my beauty rest.

106. What color are most of you clothes?

Solid colors, mostly T-shirts. I look like a middle school boy most days. Not fun.

107. Do you like adventures?

Sure! I’m up for failing miserably.

108. Have you ever been on TV?

I was almost an extra in a Netflix movie - my family was up in New York City and we stumbled onto a set, and got to take part in it. I don’t think the scene was in the actual film though.

109. How old are you?

18.

110. What is your favorite quote?

“Do not let anyone define you because of where you come from. Your only limit is your soul.”

-My senior quote, from Ratatouille 

111. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods?

Savory. Sweet isn’t bad though.

112. Have your friends ever badly disapponted you?

Most of them have (not too badly though) at some point, but I love them anyways.

113.  What is your favorite scent?

Home sweet home. Too bad you can’t bottle that one up.

114. Random fact you know?

Banging your head against the wall burns 150 calories an hour. Go try it.

115. What is your opinion on long distance relationships?

They’re painful and tedious, and don’t always work out, but if the relationship is strong enough you’ll perservere. Why do you ask?

PS screw tagging people. Just screw it

[purple-possibilities]

Character meme! Maito Gai! Casue I mean... look at my icon. This should be no surprise.

You have chosen the very greatest picture of Gai as your icon.  I am honoured to write this tribute to a lovely man.

First impression

Wuh… turtle… a man… on a turtle… a man on a turtle… in a green… a green… one piece… jumpsuit? with… orange… yellow… orange… puce… sienna… goldenrod—fuck it idk what colour that is it’s orange now—leg… legwarmers? are..eyebrows? what? but the other one? matching? what? i don’t… who thought this was a good idea?  Why… is that a sunset?  Why is he talking like this?  Is this funny? Is this dumb?  a turtle?  How is the turtle talking, and is it a tortoise or a turtle… idon’tlikehim—nowait—he’s the greatest

Impression now

Gai is amazing.  Hilarious.  I have mad respect for him.  He may have started off as a joke character but he is actually amazing, as a person, as a teacher, as a character, and I love him.

Favorite moment

After the Chuunin Prelims, the scene where Gai is talking to Lee about the probability of Lee surviving the procedure, and promises that if Lee dies, then Gai will die too.  It’s the first moment you see Gai being serious, and you learn the true measure of his devotion.  Gai might be loud and obnoxious and sunset genjutsus, but he’s also love and warmth and he would do anything for someone he cared about.  This was the first time we saw Gai—and Lee—as people and not gags.  And it was touching and sad and it really made me care about both of them.

Idea for a story

Fuck if I know.  Let met think…I hate to do this, but since Ume is known as the Queen of Angst I’m going to say I was inspired.  When Kakashi is in the midst of his ANBU depression and Gai petitions to be able to join, instead of saying ‘no,’ Sandaime says ‘yes.’  Now we’ve got ANBU Gai, being forced into completing these brutal missions or being charged with insubordination of the highest degree (the punishment of which, is death).  Not wanting to see Gai punished, Kakashi does the dirty work while Gai basically panics.  Seeing how much further into his shell this is pushing Kakashi, Gai bites the bullet and starts pulling his own weight.  The two spiral deeper into ANBU and the darkness that follows them, desperately grasping onto each other.  Gai finally begs Kakashi to leave one day, but Kakashi cannot, even seeing how affected Gai is.  So Gai sticks by his side, slowly killing off all the brightest parts of himself.  Until one day, Gai see’s a young boy with thick eyebrows trying his damnedest to be a ninja without chakra, and begs Sandaime to let him be the boy’s sensei.  Hiruzen finally smartens up, and ejects both Gai and Kakashi from ANBU.  They get their students, and they learn how to heal with their new purpose (Gai is better off at first, but he drags Kakashi behind him).  And then everything eventually works out because I was making myself sad.  As a payoff to having Gai in ANBU, let’s pretend that Kakashi and Gai were such a great team, they ended up finding Obito, they caught him, brought him to the village for rehabilitation.  No Uchiha Massacre, Madara is dead already and now has no one to bring him back to life, Zetsu walked into a patch of experimental weed killer and died (yes, all the Zetsu, it was a huge patch and they just kept walking into it for no reason. maybe there were some parasitic ants that took over their brains or something convenient like that), and everyone lives, everyone’s happy, hugs and kisses for everyone.  Boom.  Horrible ending.

Unpopular opinion

I honestly think Gai would be the greatest boyfriend.  As in: The. Greatest. Ever.  He would win awards for being an amazing boyfriend, and an amazing husband, and an amazing father.  Why?  Because he would give you his everything.  And not in a ‘Oh, I want to take advantage of the man,’ kind of way, but in the sense that, once Gai has decided you’re the one for him (even if you’re just the one for him right now) he is going to put soooo much effort into making sure you’d be happy.  He’d be bringing you little gifts every day, just because they reminded him of you.  They would probably all be different, things that he saw while doing his crazy training throughout the village, but they would all have some sort of deep personal meaning and you would probably love them.  Ok, there might be some trial and error in the beginning, but the man learns fast and never gives up.  If you didn’t like receiving physical gifts, he would gift you every day with something non-physical.  Maybe you like horrible poetry?  Gai will write you daily poems.  Maybe you like massages?  Gai will give you daily back massages, foot massages, wrist massages, full body massages (and i do mean full body massages) etc.  Maybe you just want someone to sit quietly with and cuddle for like an hour—Gai will stfu and cuddle with you.  Sure, he’ll be bursting with thoughts after, and he might get a little fidgety, but he will 100% do it, if it makes you happy.  So you better fucking treat him good or I’ll cut you.  Okay, Kakashi will cut you but still.  Don’t do that to Gai.  If you’re an introvert and you feel sometimes that his personality gets to be a little much, he will try to tone it down or give you space, but he’ll be back to 11 in a heartbeat if you change your mind.  He would remember every single important date.  If you wanted to go somewhere or do something, Gai would make it happen.  Whether that’s going skydiving off the mountains in Lightening, or looking for a mythical fish off the coast of Water, or going to the Land of Hotsprings for some R&R, or just going to the corner store to pick up your favourite take-out and that movie you were talking about.  Did you run out of sugar while baking?  Gai will bring you sooo much sugar in like two seconds flat.  Is he out of the village?  Doesn’t matter.  His summons are at your service (even if they’re a bit slower).  He would back you up no matter what (and even if you broke up, Gai would still have your back.  Gai is Ride or Die ok, he will be there for you as long as you’re not horrible and cheat on him or something.  Don’t be mean to Gai; he’s precious). If you’re having problems in your relationship, Gai will do his best to work them out with you.  Gai will go to therapy and work his ass off to make both of you happy. Gai obviously has his quirks and his own issues, and wheelchair bound Gai will probably take some time to bounce back into his normal vigour.  But honestly, out of his generation, he’d probably be the best boyfriend.  People don’t want to date Gai because LOUD and EYEBROWS and THAT HORRIBLE OUTFIT but a) he can be quiet if you need him to be, b) the eyebrows aren’t that bad get over it, and c) you bet your ass Gai looks amazing naked in civvies.  Don’t ask Gai to change for you (honestly, if you caught his attention, then I probably don’t have to tell you that) because that’s just mean.  But Gai will treat you right.  Date Gai.  You won’t find a better boyfriend.  And if you’re lucky and he proposes, marry Gai.  You might want to elope, though.  He will go a little overboard with the ceremony otherwise.  But hey, you’re dating Gai, you probably like overboard.  So go for the ceremony.  It will be the greatest wedding anyone has every attended.

Favorite relationship

If you’ve been on my blog for more than five minutes you know I love Kakashi.  But that is not my favourite relationship of Gai’s.  I love Gai’s relationship with his students, but specifically with Tenten.  Now I know what you’re thinking; sibi, why choose Tenten when there is Lee, Gai’s protege.  Well, it’s simple.  It’s easy to get along with someone who is like you.  Lee has always been a mini-Gai, and so it was not hard for them to bond.  Both have a relationship based on common interests and common goals, and it is a beautiful relationship.  Gai and Neji’s relationship falls in a similar vein; hard working student, eager to improve himself through hard work.  The problem here is that Gai isn’t much of a mentor—not by any fault of his own, but by virtue of Neji focusing on the Gentle Fist Style.  There were certainly exercises to build endurance and stamina and team bonds that Gai taught Neji, but Neji had a path already, and it was easy to guide him on it.  I love Gai’s relationship with Tenten because he had none of that.  All Gai had in common with Tenten was that they both work hard.  She had no real direction, she had no clan to teach her a specific style or put her on a path she could follow.  He could not identify with her as a girl, he didn’t really know how to treat her (because while Gai is a ball of sunshine he is awkward in his own way) but despite this, he didn’t give up.  He wanted to help her fulfil her goals.  Tenten’s dream was to be like Tsunade?  Gai was going to make that happen.  He tried to set her up with a medical ninja, since that’s what Tsunade was most famous for.  uh oh, Tenten didn’t have the chakra control.  Gai was not deterred.  Tsunade was known for her super strength…but that also required chakra control that Tenten didn’t have.  Gai was not deterred.  He tried to give her his summoning contract, but Tenten ended up insulting the tortoise and ruining that chance, as well as a chance for any animal summon (as the tortoises would surely gossip about the disrespect).  Gai was not deterred.  He taught her how to summon weapons.  He just kept trying.  Gai tried his best to equip Tenten with the skills she would need to fulfil her dream.  She did not end up proficient in the same way that Tsunade was.  But she found her own star.  She found something she loved, developed a fighting style all on her own, and became the greatest at what she did.  And Gai, who didn’t have the talents to teach her to be like Tsunade, didn’t go ‘oh well, I can’t help her,’ he said, ‘if this doesn’t work, then we’ll try that, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll try…’ until Tenten found herself.  He was an amazing mentor to all of his students, but this is most evident, in my opinion, with Tenten.

Favorite headcanon

I don’t remember where it started, but I like the idea that Gai is actually a genjutsu type, and whenever you see the sunset behind him, it’s actually him casting a low level genjutsu for theatrics. 

Here is the ask.  Send me a character (canon or oc) or even a pairing.  Up next is Genma, and then Hidan, Adult!Obito, Rock Lee, and Ino. (which I think I’m going to have to do later, it’s time for me to sleep).

Already completed: Madara, Kakashi, Shino, Tenzou