#more distance from the series only makes my takes less and less nuanced | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arvandus · 4 years

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The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta. You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face. You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed. You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note: A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar. Some looking to win romance. Some looking to win money. While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends. Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band. It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched. You checked your phone for messages but found none. It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up. It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response. Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up. A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point. You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now. Sometimes it was them. Sometimes it was you. But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best. At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date. And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing. Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians. Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din. Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs. Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage. All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club. Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch. Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was. Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips. He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans. He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing. The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star. The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck. It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This. This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out. You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people. But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new. And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump. Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed. But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel. Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away. Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble. His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral. To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze. You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis. “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons. He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly. “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down. “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles. “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’. You know who I’m talking about. If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done. But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened.

Watching him from a distance was one thing. But actually meeting him? Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body. “No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention. You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage. No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him. The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at. And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you. You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance. Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift. The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins. You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him. Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time. Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did. Only rarely did he linger for a drink. What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you. He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep. It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten. You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured. You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit. He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him. No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him. In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied. “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied. Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass. Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip.

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar. “Duty calls, friend. Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him. Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later. You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight. A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred. “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned. “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl. It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat. Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi. He had a way of handling drunken idiots. But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him.

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind. Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face. A well-placed kick to his shin. Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder. The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort. You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips. But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare. “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered. “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission. For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good. Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him. “Hey, fuck you man!” He shouted. But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables. Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse. Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess. The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had. But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded. “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine. But next time ask for one of my bouncers. Or Hizashi. Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin. “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents. “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay. Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.” She crossed her arms. “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand. I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better. And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before. “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love. I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

“And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment. I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi. “Get her a fresh drink.”

“Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

“Thank you.” You replied.

Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now. “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath. Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display. Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then. Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely. The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked. “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking. The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown. How long had he noticed you’d been coming here? Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment. You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh. He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused. Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time. I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True. I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice. You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin. “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective. Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval. He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought. It felt natural. Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself. After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face. His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri. You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own. Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life. You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory. He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed. “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed. “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look. “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink. “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation. You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now. You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him. “How about you? Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No. No special someone. Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand. Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him. Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched. If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned. Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there? What if you were wrong?

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter. The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy. It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations. Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.

He was interested. In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned. Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind. It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most. You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers. Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin. That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment. “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club. Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day. How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement. But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could. “Leave me the keys to the place. I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug. He placed a set of keys on the counter. “Don’t tell Nemuri, though. She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left. You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze. Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space. He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile. “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you. “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own. Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass. You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head. “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid. Used to mess around on it.” He explained. “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails. You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing. “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them. Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat. He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty. The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him. The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C. Everything else will center around this.” He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space. “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys. Like this.” Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm. “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.” He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out. Then, he removed his hand. “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried. The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured. “Let’s try it again. Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol. It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness. You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it. You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit. And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop? How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay. Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys. “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his. His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land. Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said. “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval. “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time. The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled. “Good. Now, for the other hand. You’ll start one octave lower. Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect. Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys. “Like this?”

Shouta nodded. “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand. The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you. You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap. His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his. The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod. “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily. “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No. Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him. He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them. You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this. The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes. To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly. The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake. You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down. And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys. All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen. His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys. His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable. But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted. But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting. Finally, he spoke. “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now. “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results. Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need. Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did. It was obvious you did. Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear it. A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you. At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own. You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs. This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing? How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence? And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties. The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation. His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps. Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock. Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements. “You better stop that…” he warned.

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end. But you didn’t care. You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction. In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck. His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw. There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap. The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control. But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back. “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel. He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance. The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered. Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit. A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage. With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release. Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you. With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching. Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer. You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly. “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers. The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake. Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched. Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure. Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch. His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs. The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips. Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him. But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh. “Much.” You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you. “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans. “As much as I like that idea, no.” He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap. His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place. “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms. “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.” You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered. You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access. “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind. Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes. He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was. You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

You couldn’t wait.

#aizawa shouta #Shouta Aizawa #Aizawa x reader #Aizawa x you #shouta x reader #Shouta x you #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa smut #bnharem collab #Jazz Aizawa #Jazz AU #Music AU #BNHA music AU

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liquidstar · 3 years

Text

I feel as if many people, myself included, have been having problems with the way “critical thinking” is conducted in fandom circles more and more. Which I’d say is a good thing, because it means we’re thinking critically. But still the issues with the faux-critical mentality and with the way we consume media through that fandom group mentality are incredibly widespread at this point, despite being very flawed, and there are still plenty of people who follow it blindly, ironically.

I sort of felt like I had to examine my personal feelings on it and I ended up writing a whole novel, which I’ll put under the cut, and I do welcome other people’s voices in the matter, because while I’m being as nuanced as I can here I obviously am still writing from personal experience and may overlook some things from my limited perspective. But by and large I think I’ve dissected the phenomena as best I can from what I’ve been seeing going on in fandom circles from a safe but observable distance.

Right off the bat I want to say, I think it's incredibly good and necessary to be critical of media and understand when you should stop consuming it, but that line can be a bit circumstantial sometimes for different people. There are a lot of anime that I used to watch as a teenager that I can’t enjoy anymore, because I got more and more uncomfortable overtime with the sexualization of young characters, partly because as I was getting older I was really starting to realize how big of an issue it was, and I certainly think more critically now than I did when I was 14. Of course I don’t assume everyone who still watches certain series is a pedophile, and I do think there are plenty of fans that understand this. However I still stay away from those circles and that’s a personal choice.

I don’t think a person is morally superior based on where they draw the line and their own boundaries with this type of stuff, what’s more important is your understanding of the problem and response to it. There are series I watch that have a lot of the same issues around sexualization of the young characters in the cast, but they’re relatively toned down and I can still enjoy the aspects of the series I actually like without it feeling as uncomfortable and extreme. Others will not be able to, and their issues with it are legitimate and ones that I still ultimately agree with, but they’re still free to dislike the series for it, after all our stance on the issue itself is the same so why would I resent them for it?

Different people are bound to have different lines they draw for how far certain things can go in media before they’re uncomfortable watching it and it doesn’t make it a moral failing of the person who can put up with more if they’re still capable of understanding why it’s bad to begin with and able to not let it effect them. But I don’t think that sentiment necessarily contradicts the idea that some things really are too far gone for this to apply, the above examples aren’t the same thing as a series centered solely around lolicon ecchi and it doesn’t take a lot of deep analysis to understand why. It’s not about a personal line anymore when it comes to things that are outright propaganda or predatory with harmful ideals woven into the message of the story itself. Critical thinking means knowing the difference between these, and no one can hold your hand through it. And simply slapping “I’m critical of my interests” on your bio isn’t a get out of jail free card, it’s always evident when someone isn’t truly thinking about the impact of the media they consume through the way they consume it.

I think the issue is that when people apply “Critical thinking” they don’t actually analyze the story and its intent, messages, themes, morals, and all that. Instead they approach it completely diegetically, it’s basically the thermian argument, the issue stems from thinking about the story and characters as if they’re real people and judging their actions through that perspective, rather than something from a writer trying to deliver a narrative by using the story and characters as tools. Like how people get upset about characters behaving “problematically” without realizing that it’s an intentional aspect of the story, that the character needs to cause problems for there to be conflict. What they should be looking at instead is what their behavior represents in the real world.

You do not need to apply real-world morals to fictional characters, you need to apply them to the narrative. The story exists in the real world, the characters and events within it do not. Fictional murderers themselves do not hurt anyone, no one is actually dying at their hands, but their actions hold weight in the narrative which itself can harm real people. If the character only murders gay people then it reflects on whatever the themes and messages of the story are, and it’s a major issue if it's framed as if they’re morally justified, or as if this is a noble action. And it’s a huge red flag if people stan this character, even if the story itself actually presents their actions as reprehensible. Or cases where the murderers themselves are some kind of awful stereotype, like Buffalo Bill who presents a violent and dangerous stereotype of trans women, making the character a transmisogynistic caricature (Intentional or otherwise) that has caused a lot of harm to the perception of trans women. When people say “Fiction affects reality” this is what they mean. They do not mean “People will see a pretend bad guy and become bad” they mean “Ideals represented in fiction will be pulled from the real world and reflected back onto it.”

However, stories shouldn’t have to spoon-feed you the lesson as if you’re watching a children’s cartoon, stories often have nuances and you have to actively analyze the themes of it all to understand it’s core messages. Oftentimes it can be intentionally murky and hard to parse especially if the subject matter itself is complicated. But you can’t simply read things on the surface and think you understand everything about them, without understanding the symbolism or subtext you can leave a series like Revolutionary Girl Utena thinking the titular Utena is heterosexual and was only ever in love with her prince. Things won’t always be face-value or clear-cut and you will be forced to come to your own conclusions sometimes too.

That’s why the whole fandom-based groupthink mentality about “critical thinking” doesn’t work, because it’s not critical. It’s simply looking into the crowd, seeing people say a show is problematic, and then dropping it without truly understanding why. It’s performative, consuming the best media isn’t activism and it doesn’t make you a better person. Listening to the voices of people whom the issues directly concerns will help you form an opinion, and to understand the issues from a more knowledgeable perspective beyond your own. All that means nothing if you just sweep it under the rug because you want to look infallible in your morality. That’s not being critical, it’s just being scared to analyze yourself, as well as what you engage with. You just don’t want to think about those things and you’re afraid of being less than perfect so you pretend it never happened.

And though I’m making this post, it’s not mine or anyone else’s job to hold your hand through all this and tell you “Oh this show is okay, but this show isn't, and this book is bad etc etc etc”. Because you actually have to think for yourself, you know, critically. Examples I’ve listed aren’t rules of thumb, they’re just examples and things will vary depending on the story and circumstance. You have to look at shit on a case-by-case basis instead of relying on spotting tropes without thinking about how they’re implemented and what they mean. That’s why it’s analysis, you have to use it to understand what the narrative is communicating to its audience, explicitly or implicitly, intentionally or incidentally, and understand how this reflects the real world and what kind of impact it can have on it.

A big problem with fandom is it has made interests synonymous with personality traits, as if every series we consume is a core part of our being, and everything we see in it reflects our viewpoints as well. So when people are told that a show they watched is problematic, they react very extremely, because they see it as basically the same thing as saying they themselves are problematic (It’s not). Everyone sees themselves as good people, they don’t want to be bad people, so this scares them and they either start hiding any evidence that they ever liked it, or they double down and start defending it despite all its flaws, often providing those aforementioned thermian arguments (“She dresses that way because of her powers!”).

That’s how you get people who call children’s cartoons “irredeemable media” and people who plaster “fiction=/= reality!” all over their blogs, both are basically trying to save face either by denying that they could ever consume anything problematic or denying that the problematic aspects exist all together. And absolutely no one is actually addressing the core issues anymore, save for those affected by them who pointed them out to begin with, only for their original point to become muffled in the discourse. No one is thinking critically because they’re more concerned with us-vs-them group mentality, both sides try to out-perform the other while the actual issue gets ignored or is used as nothing more than a gacha with no true understanding or sympathy behind it.

One of the other issues that comes from this is the fact that pretty much everyone thinks they’re the only person capable of being critical of their interests. That’s how you get those interactions where one person goes “OK [Media] fan” and another person replies “Bro you literally like [Other Media]”, because both parties think they’re the only ones capable of consuming a problematic piece of media and not becoming problematic themselves, anyone else who enjoys it is clearly incapable of being as big brained as them. It’s understandable because we know ourselves and trust ourselves more than strangers, and I’m not saying there can’t be certain fandoms who’s fans you don’t wanna interact with, but when we presume that we know better than everyone else we stop listening to other people all together. It’s good to trust your own judgement, it’s bad to assume no one else has the capacity to think for themselves either though.

The insistence that all media that you personally like is without moral failing and completely pure comes with the belief that all media that you personally dislike has to be morally bad in some way. As if you can’t just dislike a series because you find it annoying or it just doesn’t appeal to you, it has to be problematic, and you have to justify your dislike of it through that perspective. You have to believe that your view on whatever media it is is the objectively correct one, so you’ll likely pick apart all it’s flaws to prove you’re on the right side, but there’s no analysis of context or intent. Keep in mind this doesn’t necessarily mean those critiques are unfounded or invalid, but in cases like this they’re often skewed in one direction based on personal opinion. It’s just as flawed as ignoring all the faults in the stuff you like, it’s biased and subjective analysis that misses a lot of context in both cases, it’s not a good mindset to have about consuming media. It’s just another result of tying media consumption with identity and personal morals. The faux-critical mentality is an attempt to separate the two in a way that implies they’re a packaged deal to begin with, making it sort of impossible to truly do so in any meaningful way.

As far as I know this whole phenomena started with “Steven Universe Critical” in, like, 2016, and that’s where this mentality around “critical thinking” originated. It started out with just a few people correctly pointing out very legitimate issues with the series, but over time it grew into just a trend where people would make cutesy kin blogs with urls like critical-[character] or [character]crit to go with the fad as it divulged into Nostalgia Critic level critique. Of course there was backlash to this and criticism of the criticism, but no actual conversation to be had. Just people trying to out-do each other by acting as the most virtuous one in the room, and soon enough the fad became a huge echo-chamber that encouraged more and more outrageous takes for every little thing. The series itself was a children’s cartoon so it stands to reason that a lot of the fans were young teens, so this behavior isn’t too surprising and I do believe a lot of them did think they were doing the right thing, especially since it was encouraged. But that doesn’t erase the fact that there were actual real issues and concerns brought up about the series that got treated with very little sympathy and were instead drowning out people’s voices. Though those from a few years back may have grown up since and know better (Hopefully), the mentality stuck around and influenced the norm for how fandoms and fandom people conduct any sort of critique on media.

That’s a shame to me, because the pedestal people place fandom onto has completely disrupted our perception on how to engage with media in a normal way. Not everything should be consumed with fandom in mind, not everything is a coffee-shop au with no conflict, not everything is a children’s cartoon with the morals spoon-fed to you. Fandom has grown past the years of uncritical praise of a series, it’s much more mainstream now with a lot more voices in it beyond your small community on some forum, and people are allowed to use those voices. Just because it may not be as pleasant for you now because you don’t get to just turn your brain off and ignore all the flaws doesn’t mean you can put on your rose-tinted nostalgia goggles and pretend that fandom is actually all that is good in the world, to the point where you place it above the comfort and safety of others (Oftentimes children). Being uncritical of fandom itself is just as bad as being uncritical of what you consume to begin with.

At the end of the day it all just boils down to the ability to truly think for yourself but with sympathy and compassion for other people in mind, while also understanding that not everyone will come to the same conclusion as you and people are allowed to resent your interests. That doesn’t necessarily mean they hate you personally, you should be acknowledging the same issues after all. You can’t ignore aspects of it that aren’t convenient to your conclusion, you have to actually be critical and understand the issues to be able to form it.

I think that all we need is to not rely on fandom to tell us what to do, but still listen to the voices of others, take them into account to form our opinion too, boost their voices instead of drowning them out in the minutiae of internet discourse about which character is too much of an asshole to like. Think about what the characters and story represent non-diegetically instead of treating them like real people and events, rather a story with an intent and message to share through its story and characters, and whatever those reflect from the real world. That’s how fiction affects reality, because it exists in reality and reflects reality through its own lens. The story itself is real, with a real impact on you and many others, so think about the impact and why it all matters. Just… Think. Listen to others but think for yourself, that’s all.

#see i told you guys id find that essay and post it for real. i wasnt kidding.#good luck inbox of mine :praying:

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geek-and-destroy · 3 years

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Wheel of Time - It's Raining Points of View

This is post 9 in The Wheel of Time Read - see the previous post - covering the prologue and chapters 1-9 of book 2.

A few days ago, I started reading The Wheel of Time, Robert Jordan's sprawling fantasy series. And because I have nothing better to do, I decided to post my thoughts on the internet, a few chapters at a time. Right now, I am at book two - The Great Hunt. This post talks about my first impressions of the book two prologue and chapters 1 (The Flame of Tar Valon) through 9 (Leavetakings). Chapter summaries can be found here (I’m not putting links to the individual chapters, I don’t want to venture too far into the wiki).

MOIRAINE POV MOIRAINE POV MOIRAINE POV YAYYYY!

My joy is immeasurable and my day is made. There were many delightful new POVs this time around, it's almost difficult to keep track. Let's see, prologue Darkfriend 'Bors,' Rand, Perrin (ly), Nynaeve (yay), Egwene (yay!), Papa Bornhald (ugh), sinister Red Sedai Liandrin, Dark peddler Padan Fain, the Amrylin Seat herself and, of all people, Bayle fucking Domon! Whew. That is quite the jump after the three POVs from the last one.

The prologue has only driven home the point that absolutely anyone could turn out to be a Darkfriend. There's really no telling exactly when this prologue takes place, but I'm assuming this is directly after the battle at Tarwin's Gap at the end of the first book. Or it could be before the first book took place too, but that isn't much plausible either. Rand took centre-stage in Ba'Alzamon's little holographic powerpoint, so I guess he knew after the final battle at the end of the last book that he's the Dragon. There's also no telling when the Domon POV in chapter 9 takes place - probably takes at least two weeks to sail from Whitebridge to Illian, plus some time for rest after which he was offered the Tar-Valon-mark money. I'm assuming the source of that is one of the two Black Ajah Aes Sedais seen in the prologue.

But coming back to more joyous things: MOIRAINE POVs! Aaaaaahhh I am so happy that I don't even care that she's more of a Dumbledore than I thought she was. These things tend to go a certain way, in that Moiraine and the Amrylin's end goal will be achieved, but they lose a lot of control over events and get schooled for their manipulative ways. Ends don't justify the means, using people to play prophecy is bad, blah blah, blah, fuck that. I want my Aes Sedai intrigue. When they started referring to the Amrylin Seat as a person and not like a throne, I was trying to have some random fun by imagining her as literally an authoritative sentient chair, but RJ had to go and make her a character with nuances and layers and shit. Not that sentient chairs can't have those, dgmw.

Anyway, Siuan Sanche is yet another enigmatic presence to look out for. I think her POV was more of a one-off thing, though. The less I see of this type of character, the better their impact is. Liandrin, along with Elaida, is being set up as another temporary 'antagonist' at Tar Valon. Her physical description juxtaposed with her demeanour gives off very creepy vibes indeed. Knowing Elayne, she was very unlucky indeed to be found by the stuck-up faction. I wonder which ones are the Dark Aes Sedais? I bet we've seen at least one, and I bet none of them is from the Red Ajah.

As for the Ajahs, the Brown is easily the best one. Verin is easily the best side character so far. I hate this 'book smart vs street smart' stereotype, man. Browns seem to be the perfect Aes Sedai who have been distanced by the rest because of how perfect they are. In crisis situations, I bet the Browns handle themselves the best while the other Ajahs call them naive from their fucking graves.

Yeah, that's not gonna happen, is it? Sigh.

These first chapters leave many more questions than in the first books, courtesy of the reader being immersed in the world now. What was the wind thingy? Who gave the orders to bar the gates? Who was the attacker? Who rescued Fain? Are they different people, or the same person? When is that stupid narrative of 'friends cross at protagonist due to dumb thing he said' trope gonna stop? Who gave the money to Domon? How did he end up with Heartstone? Was it an accident or is he a Darkfriend? How does he even know what it is?

I read on.

#wheel of time #wot #the great hunt #rand al'thor #moiraine damodred #books & libraries #read along #long reads #the eye of the world #robert jordan

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luna-tiel · 4 years

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What Entrapdak Means to Me

On the eve of Entrapdak Positivity Month, I thought it was as good a time as any to share my rambling thoughts on a ship that’s affected me in a way I didn’t think was possible.

Entrapdak is the first ship I have ever been invested in. It’s such a new experience for me that it’s taken me the last few months to wrap my head around the whole thing. I may relate to the characters in a show, but when they form romantic attachments I view it with a degree of passive distance. I don’t understand what it’s like to have those sorts of feelings for someone (I am aromantic and ace as a brick), and, well, I’m honestly not curious enough to give the subject a thorough study. My mind tends to fixate on other things.

What does this have to do with Entrapdak, you ask? Long story short for people who don’t want to read my meandering essay -- I relate a lot to these characters, and the way they bonded together struck a deep chord in me that I can’t ignore.

Let’s start with the characters. I knew going in that Entrapta was neurodivergent-coded, but I took it with a grain of salt. When I actually watched the show, however, I found myself relating to her so deeply it shocked me. Never have I felt such a kinship with a fictional character! We don’t share every trait, but it was still like seeing my brain put to life on screen. I related to her enthusiasm over her special interests, her struggles to fit in, her desire to make friends who accept and understand her for who she is.

The fact Entrapta is completely herself is something I love about her. Over the years of growing up undiagnosed, I developed a lot of masking strategies. Human psychology is one of my special interests, and even with all that accumulated knowledge, masking isn’t easy. It’s extremely mentally taxing. Masking can certainly look easy -- I can, when I have the drive and energy, “pass” as neurotypical, and only people who know me extremely well can tell I’m dying inside. All that effort is taken for granted by a lot of NTs because that’s how people are “supposed to” act, and surely I can “do the bare minimum.” The accumulated stress of near constant masking has led me to the darkest moments I’ve had in my life.

Entrapta’s struggle with leaving Beast Island hit me hard. It threw me back to a time when my feelings of isolation and worthlessness got so bad that I lost the energy to do anything, even the creative pursuits that were the obsession of my life. I retreated so deeply into my inner world that I hardly interacted with anyone. That total apathy shocked my family into getting me professional help, which gave me my autism diagnosis, the coping skills to move forward, and a good start on the road to self-acceptance. It also opened a channel between my family and I, allowing me to feel heard and understood. (An important side note on mental health: if you or someone you love needs professional help, please seek it! Sometimes you have to try out several therapists -- it took me three to find a good fit -- but you are worth it!)

It took me longer to realize, but I also relate to Hordak in some ways. Mercifully I was not raised in an extremist cult environment. However, I know what it’s like to feel defective next to a sibling that seems perfect. I was constantly being compared to my younger brother, and in all areas but art, he was superior. He was smart, athletic, and above all, he fit in with everyone. I didn’t hate him for this -- I hated myself. Trying to measure up to his standard is what caused me to develop such strong masking strategies. Underneath it all, I felt the despair of knowing my peers would reject me as soon as the mask cracked. I also live with chronic joint pain, starting at around age seven. The jury is still out on what’s causing that (the worst of it was due to a previously unknown food allergy, but the pain still comes and goes, even though it’s a lot more manageable than it used to be). This cocktail of pain, stress, and sensory issues I had to deal with gave me a very short fuse at times.

As an aside, just because I sympathize with Hordak does not mean I am excusing his actions. He is still going to have to face the consequences of his choices, and work to adjust to life post-Prime. The series end gave him a new beginning, the opportunity to be redeemed, and I prefer this to a rushed redemption arc.

What I love most about Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship is how they accept each other as they are. Hordak gives Entrapta near free reign of his sanctum, he listens to her when she talks, and he respects her opinions. Even when he pushes her away, he still considers the logic of what she tells him, and sometimes ends up doing things her way despite his initial instincts. This is something I do in my own life; I am easily overwhelmed by new information, so my initial response to an idea/activity is almost always a firm (and sometimes rude) “no,” until I have time to properly process and think about it. Hordak is the first person in Entrapta’s life that truly listens to her. He still has things he needs to work on, but it’s a lot better than how most of the princesses are with Entrapta. The Alliance treats her as someone to be managed -- she is useful, but unreliable. Hordak, in contrast, trusts her to get things done in her own way.

On the other side, Entrapta is the first person in Hordak’s life to accept him without judgment. Hordak spends so much of his energy putting up a front of strength and intimidation, and Entrapta cuts right through that. She’s not frightened by his appearance, and even his outbursts have little effect on her until the two of them start to bond. Entrapta doesn’t come into their interactions with any preconceived ideas of what Hordak is like, or more importantly, what he should be like. This lack of expectation leaves her completely open to accepting whatever Hordak does and says, and it also relieves Hordak of the burden of needing to put on a front around her. When Entrapta sees him at his most vulnerable, she reaches out to him with compassion, something he has never felt before. Entrapta also does this in a way that doesn’t belittle Hordak. His imperfections are not something to pity, they are a valuable part of who he is.

I loved watching their friendship develop. Entrapta and Hordak’s shared time together evolved slowly into a bond that gave each of them a sense of belonging they had never experienced before with anyone else. It gave me the hope that, despite what an oddball mess I am, perhaps I could find someone who understands me too.

When a romance subplot inserts itself into a story, I tend to gloss over and ignore it (if I pick up on it at all). I’m even less interested in sex. Way back when I was first getting into fandom I was so excited to go online and meet fellow fans of the books and shows I liked, only to discover the spaces being dominated by arguments over character pairings. I was baffled. This is what people are most interested in? Oh well… back to the hermit cave I go!

I was late to the party with SPoP. I’d watched a few episodes, but the show didn’t really hook me. This was partially because all I ever heard people talk about online was Catradora, and if that was the main appeal of the show, I wasn’t sure I would enjoy it (sorry Catradora shippers, romance is not going to entice me to watch a show, even if it’s rep). Quarantine was the ultimate cause for me embracing my curiosity and diving headfirst into SPoP, binging the entire thing a few months before the release of season 5.

I vaguely knew about Entrapdak as a ship going into the show, and I admit, had I not been primed for it, I probably would have missed the romantic potential entirely. In no way did I expect to become invested. I was immediately intrigued by their dynamic, and as they got closer, I found myself thinking “oh, I see why people ship these two.” I didn’t understand this realization until months later. I was relating to the characters, and for the first time in my life, I was relating to their relationship.

I headcanon Entrapta and Hordak as an asexual couple. I’ll elaborate on this at a later time (asexuality is a spectrum with a lot of nuance, and this post is plenty long already), but at the core of it, I find joy in imagining these characters in a loving platonic relationship, something I hope to find myself one day. I hope this love comes across in my artwork and in my fanfictions <3

To those of you that read this far, wow, you must be patient! Have an imaginary cookie! I hope this ramble has provided a decent picture for why I, as an aro ace on the autism spectrum, have come to cherish Hordak and Entrapta’s relationship. It’s my first and only OTP… I’m still in shock thinking about that… I guess we’ll see where things go from here!

Take care of yourselves out there!

#entrapdak #entrapta/hordak #entrapta #hordak #autistic entrapta #autistic experiences #relatable characters #fandom ramblings #spop #spop headcanons #asexual headcanon

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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Serpent of Eden (Part 2 - Reid Series)

~ Reader’s one-night-stand with Spencer turns into a year long semester ~

Summary: Spencer and Reader attempt to navigate through the shock, horror, and confusion of the revelation that Spencer is a professor at Reader’s college. Couple: Fem!Reader x Professor Spencer Reid Category: Series, Fluff, Angst, (eventually smut) Word Count: 1.5k (this will probably be my shortest chapter) Content Warning: mentions of one-night-stand, age gap, teacher-student relationship Disclaimer: This is a filler chapter, and you’ll probably find it boring, but it moves the story along so that we can get to the exciting parts next chapter.

PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

What’s that saying again?

It’s a small world?

Well, after today - I certainly agree.

More as a comment to myself, I muttered, “I guess I should’ve asked for your last name after all, Spencer.”

Was this my cruel and unusual punishment for my first one-night-stand? If so, this was enough humiliation to convince me it should be my first and last one-night-stand.

His eyes were wide with astonishment; his eyebrows knitted together. “I thought you said you worked at a law firm.”

He wasn’t mad or accusing me of lying, but he was more stunned than anything that I was really here standing in front of him. I knew his voice to be too kind to be accusatory.

“That wasn’t a lie. I do work at a law firm - I’m an intern there,” I said matter-of-factly. “I only said that to impress you because you were older and had this big shot job. Which reminds me - you said you were part of the FBI.”

“I am, but I occasionally teach here.” He almost chuckled.

It was the slight pout of both of our mouths that proved a mutual resignation to the fact that we’d reached a stalemate. We both ran out of moves and there was nowhere for us to go if we kept on this path, not unless one of us surrendered to the other, which wasn’t really an option here. Simply by the look on his face, I could tell he was going to assume the responsibility of inciting a productive discourse. And I let him, for subconsciously, I looked to him to be the bigger person, the more mature one, the wiser one, for he was the older one, too. Whether or not this was taking advantage of the natural assertiveness one gains with age, I wasn’t sure.

“W-what are you doing here?” He finally asked, bringing me back to the harsh reality of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Had this been any other teacher, I might’ve not been so embarrassed to admit I was 20 years old and serving detention for being dress-coded. But, alas, it wasn’t any other teacher - it was Spencer . . . or Dr. Reid? Is that what I have to call him now?

“I got detention.” I sheepishly admitted.

The furrowing of his brows and narrowing of his eyes told me he didn’t believe me; all the signs of skepticism plain on his face.

“I was dress coded earlier.” If it was at all possible, that statement sounded even more ridiculous.

“Dress coded?” He clarified, like he almost didn’t believe me.

“I started taking off my sweater - not like that!” I quickly redacted, and the stunned look on his face told me he almost took it that way and found amusement in doing so. “I wasn’t stripping in front of the entire school. I just wanted to take my sweater off.”

“That shouldn’t warrant detention, though.”

“That’s what I was saying!”

And the comfortable, lighthearted dynamic that brought us together only two nights ago resumed as if it had never paused. It felt like we were at the bar again, talking as strangers falling in love, but here in this sterile classroom, I was chilled by the reminder that we were no longer two strangers getting drunk off the other’s presence. We were a student and a teacher in a professional setting.

“I’m just gonna sit down, now.” I awkwardly announced, fumbling into the furthest seat from him.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just report to Ms. Whitman that you served detention, but you can go now. You don’t have to stay.” He turned away from me sharply and towards his desk, all but refusing to meet my eyes.

“No, that wouldn’t be right.”

As the sentence came from my mouth, my mind wandered into a trap my words had set. “What was right about this?” Because really, nothing was.

I knew I was charting dangerous territories by staying in his classroom alone with him, but those weren’t my intentions. If anything, this was one of those times where my “goody-two-shoes” mentality failed me. I was only furthering the chance something might happen and heightening my own attraction.

The more and more I sat across from the ever contemplative Dr. Reid, the more his figure began transforming into a work of art. I started to notice the little details, the nuances, the paint strokes. I couldn’t be bothered to figure out what he was actually doing, but I took notice of the manner that he was doing it in. He studied his papers carefully with almost the same level of intent as I had looking at him. Occasionally, his tongue would poke out between his lips and wet them, scarcely reacquainting me with the thought of how they felt against my own. His eyes would narrow at the words while he read them; his eyebrows twitching up every so often as a physical reaction to his reading material.

“Are you just going to spend the rest of detention staring at me, or are you actually going to get some work done?”

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my daze and before I could re-enter this dimension, he was already looking at me through smiling eyes.

“I am doing my work!” I defensively screeched.

“Oh, yeah? If I come over there right now and you haven’t written a single thing -”

“What?” I jested. “You gonna punish me?”

The words slipped from my mouth before my mind could process its subtly seductive suggestions.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” My eyes fell to my homework that I hadn’t even started on as a way to avoid his. He looked so entertained by my previous words, and that made it even worse. How could he possibly enjoy my flirtatious advances when there was so much at risk?

“I guess we should talk about-”

“What’s there to talk about?” I abruptly interrupted. “It’s not like I have your class now, and I’ve been rejected from auditing it before, so we don’t have to see each other in school ever after today.” I rambled.

“In school?” He repeated.

“What?”

“You said we don’t have to see each other in school ever after today. Were you implying that you … you want to still see me outside of -”

“No!”

I answered all too quickly for it to appear like an honest response. He was too smart to see it as anything besides what it really was - a way to save my ass.

“I mean … yeah, I did want to see you again. But that was before I found out you’re a professor at my college.”

“Part time.” He emphasized, as if that somehow made things less illegal.

A frown formed on my face to tell him that that clarification didn’t make anything better.

“It’s your call.” I finally renounced. This was probably the most honest and raw my emotions could have been. I couldn’t have said anything truer to my feelings than that. “You have more at risk here than I do. If you say you don’t want to see me again, then you won’t. But if you think there’s something between us worth exploring, I’m willing to make it work.”

He was visibly conflicted; the weight of my words stealing his voice. He was quiet for more moments than comfortable, but he would finally tell me his answer only after rising from his desk to join me at the other end of the classroom. I stood up from my desk, making our lack of professional distance all the more glaringly obvious.

“(Y/n),” He slid a hand onto my cheek and up through my hair. “You’re worth the risk.”

He was about to seal his promise with a kiss, but when we leaned in, three hard knocks hit against the door. I jumped back in startlement, while Spencer did just the opposite. He leapt into action, abandoning me at the back of the classroom to flee to the front. He must’ve recognized the knocks were coming from the janitor just outside his door.

“Any trash you need taken out, Mr. Reid?” The janitor asked while scanning the room, glazing right over me.

“No, nope. I’m okay today, thank you. Bye, Randy.” Spencer waved him away with his hand, and luckily, I must’ve camouflaged into the wall because he didn’t seem to see me or my profuse blushing.

“I’m so sorry. I forgot he comes here every Monday at 3:45.” Spencer apologized while slowly making his way back to me.

“You forgetting something? How can that be.” I joked - well enough to hide my ever growing paranoia behind a mask of comical enjoyment.

“What can I say? That’s what you do to me. You make me forget everything else in the world.”

His words were enough to woo me certainly, even enough to accept his resumed kiss, but they weren’t enough to convince me to commit to the moment. It was spoiled by the knowledge of our sins, stolen by the fear of our actions. I simply couldn’t enjoy our relationship to the fullest anymore.

And I never would again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 HERE!

comment to be added to/ removed from the taglist

taglist: @andiebeaword @jesspavlik0vsky

#serpent of eden #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #professor spencer reid #juniorgman187 #angst #fluff #smut

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lizzybeth1986 · 4 years

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I don't think you play TRR/TRH anymore but you should see what they did to Kiara in the newest chapter. It's so dumb and makes me so angry, especially considering the current climate of events. I've already seen people on Reddit be like "but we helped her overcome her trauma" (we didn't lol) and someone called her the c-word, very classy. Honestly PB's been low key racist in the past but all the stuff right now makes it high key...

(Apologies for the long post and not being able to place this under a cut)

I'm pretty glad I got these anons because truth be told I wasn't sure how many people - besides the few that I already knew were constantly speaking about Kiara's treatment in the books - would care enough to ask any questions about this. Most of the posts I saw expressed a disturbing eagerness to throw her under the bus, without exploring nuance or asking questions, and at this point I'm not very surprised.

I've always maintained that the treatment for Kiara is what happens when both the writers and the fandom are heartless, and these past few weeks have only been proof of that.

There are questions you could raise about this finale re: Kiara - questions almost no one seems to bother asking. I have three:

1. In this Coventus Nobilis...how is it that I see four Heads of House, and only one heir?

2. If Kiara - who is not head of house - is supposed to represent Castelserraillian instead of her father Hakim (who presides over that estate), why do I not see Madeleine? Why do I not see Penelope?

3. Why are we suddenly seeing Adeleide popping up out of practically nowhere to rep Krona/Fydelia, and Landon conveniently rep-ping Portavira?

Some of the answers to these questions lie in the questions themselves. Why else would Madeleine and Penelope not be present in this meeting - if it weren't to purposely distance them from this awful moment? After all, both of them have inbuilt subplots ready for the next book that would require interactions with the core group. How else do you think the writers could ensure we kept coddling them and pandering to them in Book 3, except by distancing them from this "betrayal"?

Why else would the narrative choose to pit Kiara - the lone woman of colour we'd been shitting on for most of this series - against Olivia - the white woman who has been given innumerable individual PoV scenes and her own mini-book (and whose reputation we had to help rebuild in said mini book whether we cared about her stupid duchy or not).

Why else would they force Kiara to alert us mere minutes before the meeting begin, if not to distract us with crumbs ("See? At least we wrote her as warning you. Of course we don't hate her!").

Why else would you have Olivia and Kiara pitted against each other like this - if not to show these two women side by side, on opposing ends - and compel us to believe that the white woman we spent 4.5 books propping up and pampering, is the most loyal one. When in fact we have done absolutely nothing to deserve any fucking loyalty from Kiara or her family to begin with! (Ezekiel and his white bride notwithstanding).

What we finally got as a result, was a narrative that (as @queen-of-effing-everything summed it up when I discussed this with her) in one full sweep "glorifies Olivia, shields Madeleine and Penelope and sets up Kiara". Very few of us even noticed. And even if we did notice, is there any guarantee that we would care??

Remember how I mentioned in my last ask that I wished we expanded the same energy that we did with Aurora, to speak up against the ill-treatment of other black characters? Kiara was undoubtedly one of those.

After this, we as a fandom will speak very easily now of her "betrayal". We will call her the b-word and the c-word. We will boast of how we will "take her down" along with Adeleide and Landon and Bartie Sr. We'll boast about how we "never liked her" to begin with, as if doing so required some...idk exemplary foresight. We will make memes about how Olivia was "the only bitch we ever respected". We will make huge, sweeping claims about how Kiara was our "friend" and how (as you've mentioned, anon) we "helped her overcome her trauma" (!!!!) and claim by that token that we were entitled to good treatment from her. I'm pretty sure when TRH3 finally comes out, her every word and action will be screenshot, put up on blogs, mocked and torn down just so we can write essays on how awful she is.

Yet I saw very little of this energy in Book 3, where the MC could first emotionally manipulate her into supporting the Unity Tour, and where we actively suspected her at a time when she was traumatized. At most there was some lukewarm acknowledgement of how she "deserves better", all while people still continued to write fanfic that positioned her as creepy and obsessed and villainous. Almost no one had a problem with Savannah not acknowledging Kiara's earlier support of her, and in fact I'd seen posts that clubbed her with the other ladies of the court who likely "treated Savannah badly". Her father Hakim was made to join the tour alongside her by default, without the expectations that Landon/Emmeline and Godfrey/Adeleide were allowed to have, and the fandom was mysteriously silent about Hakim being made to "bow to his knees" in a way the others did not have to. Very few people even bothered to notice or talk about how often Penelope was allowed to hold the MC's baby, or how Kiara was never really allowed to hold her even once. Which "friend" treats someone like this??

When I finally published this essay on the treatment meted out to Kiara especially in Book 3, what I got was a lot of neat, but ultimately hollow, little platitudes about how Kiara "deserved better" (How and in what way? Who knows, who cares). Out of those many many people who reblogged and responded, only a handful held the MC and Drake in particular (and Maxwell, who thought it appropriate to joke about "one suspect down") accountable for choosing to suspect and interrogate just her, and for showing ZERO remorse in forcing her to reopen those wounds. How is it that we can judge Kiara for this latest "betrayal", yet pretend that the MC and Drake had nothing to do with the pain THEY caused to her? How is it that this fandom was so fired up over her comments, yet would have such a weak, muted, carefully-generalized response to the screenshots where Drake was openly suspecting her and optionally minimizing her trauma?

Following that, why should we be entitled to good treatment from Kiara when we never really gave her even half as much?? Why is it so easy to divorce characters from their words and actions in Drake/MC/Maxwell's case, but so hard for a character like Kiara? (One may claim this is because Drake and Maxwell are potential co-protagonists, but the aforementioned essay already proves that you as a main character can get punished for not treating a mere side character with kindness).

Another thing that fascinates and repulses me even further is how the fandom has created myths around this one character, and how PB has constantly leaned into these "characteristics" even though the text itself tells an altogether different story:

1. Kiara is a snob. This is especially hilarious considering that she is established in Book 2 as being the only person who befriended Savannah before her departure and cared about what happened to her when she left. Never once in the books has she looked down on us for class-related issues, or outright mocked people for not knowing the languages she knew. In fact, she was the first person to acknowledge our skills if we showed any before Lythikos in Book 1. On the other hand, Penelope can be uppity and look down on us in Book 1 (there is even a dialogue option in Chapter 10 that leads to her calling us a "commoner wench") if we don't do well, and yet she's a cinnamon roll. Olivia can engage in snobbish , entitled behaviour without the fandom having a problem just because she's their favourite. Madeleine can look down on us and pretend for 3/4ths of the social season that we're not worth her time yet somehow Kiara is the snob. Okay. Okay. 😐

2. Kiara is "obsessed with" Drake and constantly comes on to him. This is said by the same group of people who saw Olivia fucking Nevrakis plant a WHOLE FUCKING SMACKER on Liam's mouth, and said..nothing. Kiara on the other hand, has admired Drake's abs once, mentioned she'd always liked Drake once, spoken normally to him about his sister once, flirted with him once (Paris tea party), and ordered a wine from him when he was bartending. In the next book she either looks at him wistfully or admires his suit. Yet somehow she's the creepy, annoying, stalkerish. Okay. Ooookay. 😑

(This one was particularly damaging, because post the TRR3 hiatus, all efforts from PB were focused on reversing Kiara's position as an alternative LI. This included "confirming" on livestream that her affections were one-sided, at a time when Olivia was finally allowed to have some romantic moments with a single Liam, pushing forward a buildup scene to Drake's eventual secret wedding that had him acting extremely rude and confrontational to Kiara mere minutes after suspecting her (while she was expressing joy at his upcoming wedding in his playthrough!!!), and involving a subplot where he openly and by default suspected her. Sure, he spends a minute to be nice to her and chat about trauma if the MC chooses. But that's like a drop of sewage water floating in an ocean of shit).

3. Kiara Pretended to Be Our Friend And Then Dropped Us: This is false. Kiara only ever promised to put in a good word for us to the rest of the court, no more, no less. And she fulfilled that promise. Otherwise she never pretended to be friends with us nor made friendly overtures either way. In fact if you're going to accuse anyone of duplicity, you have Penelope and Madeleine. Yet somehow Kiara is the dishonest one. Okay. Okay. 🙃

4. Kiara Was Insensitive To Penelope and Didn't Understand Her. I'm not sure how Kiara is supposed to magically understand something that her friend isn't telling her. Plus this argument deliberately leaves out the fact that she stood up for Penelope when people chose to be mean to her, and even explained to the MC that she employs "tough love" because she can't always be around to protect Penelope. It also leaves out how one-sided this friendship is and how Kiara is made to do most of the heavy work in this friendship. Meanwhile, at Kiara's most difficult time period, in Castelserraillian, Penelope says absolutely nothing as the MC forces Kiara to join the Unity Tour, while making bedroom eyes at Kiara's brother. In fact the only reason Kiara's brother even exists is to give Penelope a love interest. The Kiara-Penelope friendship practically revolves around Penelope. I have never really seen Penelope look out for Kiara or attempt to actually support her in any way, and Kiara was the one who got the knife wounds. Yet somehow I'm supposed to believe that Penelope's the better friend of the two. Suuuuure. 😡

And this steaming pile of crap doesn't just make its way into shitposts and short opinion posts. It creeps into fanfic and fandom opinions. It finds its way in the tags and in other social media. It eventually even finds its way into the books, even though nothing in the earlier narrative ever really supported these extremely stale takes.

Because PB didn't care for Kiara the way they cared for their white characters, they had no problem framing her narrative the way this fandom so desparately wanted it. Book 3 has the MC claim behind her back that Kiara is stuck-up and acts like knowing ten languages makes her better than everybody else, even though this is not backed up by the text, and in fact you will never see any acknowledgement of how Madeleine forced Kiara to make herself sound "exotic" in Book 2, or of how Madeleine and the MC (optionally) could downplay or question her skills unless they wanted to use her. Also, Penelope is never allowed to be talked about like that no matter what she's done. PB even had a scene (in the Hana playthrough) where they aggressively retconned the events of Madeleine's bachelorette party, where Kiara supposedly shouted at Penelope until the latter cried, and Madeleine was the one "having fun". Kiara was literally being thrown under the bus to make Madeleine look better. Madeleine. Imagine that. Madeleine.

Given how desparate the fandom was to nitpick and overdramatize everything Kiara said and did, is it any wonder that the team got away with the writing they gave her in Book 3? Considering that all the false arguments I stated above have made a resurgence in the past few weeks or days...is it any wonder that the only "support" this fandom is capable of re: Kiara, is lukewarm platitudes, cold takes and rank hypocrisy??

Yes, we can hold PB solely/largely accountable for the treatment meted out to Kiara now. They made these choices over and over, and continue to do so, while tossing us occasional crumbs of faux-sweet behaviour from the MC. And they did this in insidious ways, which were so hard to catch that even a Kiara stan like me had to observe multiple playthroughs just to unravel even half of what they'd done.

But let's not pretend a huge chunk of the fandom was just as responsible for this - with their unfounded opinions, their disgusting bias, their favouritism of white characters, their refusal to observe anything besides their favourites, and their godawful fanfiction where Kiara is a creep or evil or killing the virtuous main character. Out of the huge body of fanwork that I've seen for TRR that features Kiara - at least 90% of it features her stalking Drake, or harming the MC (particularly the Drake MC), or in cahoots with the villains, or generally being referred to as a creep (why Olivia, who kissed Liam without his consent in Book 1 and was entitled enough to be angry about him not returning her feelings in TRH1, never got this sort of writing - I fail to understand). There is a tremendous gap between the vitriol dumped on her when she does something the MC doesn't like, and the milquetoast response when harm is done to her. There have been times when I've had to comb through pages and pages of hate just to read even one positive post on Kiara in her own goddamn tag.

When the next book arrives, I know you folks will continue to gas up the white women in this book every chance you get, and mask your racist vitriol for characters like Kiara (and Hana, let's not forget the way y'all treat Hana) behind the same self-righteous judgements and the same tired, stale takes. I know that PB - despite what I will still believe is their hollow promises today - will write every single one of those stale takes into existence. All because it will be "justified", because Kiara is a "bad person" or "untrustworthy" or "fake". Whatever. Y'all can stick to Olivia The Black Hole and babysit Madeleine and Penelope, I guess. Kiara always deserved better than these writers and most of this fandom anyway.

#long post #kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #trr kiara #lady kiara #i'm sorry kiki we didn't deserve you #i chose not to play trh2 and that's because this is EXACTLY what i felt would happen after they tossed us those crumbs in the book 1 finale

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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I have to begin this column by admitting that “Biden” (note: when in quotation marks, I refer to the “collective Biden”, not the clearly senile man) surprised me: it appears that my personal rule-of-thumb about US Presidents (each one is even worse than his predecessor) might not necessarily apply in “Biden’s” case. That is not to say that “Biden” won’t end up proving my rule of thumb as still applicable, just that what I am seeing right now is not what I feared or expected.

…

I think that both of these grossly oversimplify a probably much more complex and nuanced reality. In other words, “Biden” surprised many, if not most, Russians. That is very interesting by itself (neither Bush, nor Obama nor Trump ever surprised the Russians – who knew the score about all of them – in any meaningful way).

My strictly personal guess is that there is some very serious infighting currently taking place inside the US ruling class. Furthermore, that serious infighting is not about core principles or even strategy – it is a dispute over tactics only.

We have to keep in mind an old truism about outcomes: John F. Kennedy once said that “victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan” and he was right. When any group seizes power and effectively controls its interests, all is well, and everybody is busy consuming the proverbial milk and honey. But when this group suffers a series of humiliating defeats, a typical cascade of events begins:

Finger pointing: everybody blames everybody else (but never himself/herself)

Hindsight wisdom: “if I had been in charge, this would not have happened!”

Infighting over quickly shrinking spoils of war

A collapse of the centralized center of authority/decision-making centers

Generation of subgroups, fighting each other over their sub-interests

In other words, following many years of extremely weak presidential administrations (since Clinton, imho), it is hardly a surprise that infighting would take place (in both parties, by the way). In fact, an apparently chaotic set of uncoordinated, or even contradictory, policies is what one should expect. And that is exactly what we have been observing since 1993 and this dynamic has been getting worse and worse with each passing year).

…

That being said, there are some observations which might be helpful when trying to at least (indirectly) identify who are the main groups fighting each other.

The hardcore, really nutty, russophobes are still here, especially in the US media which seems to be serving not so much “Biden” as much as some “crazies in the basement” kind of cabal. Next to the legacy ziomedia, there is an increasing number of US/NATO/UK military officials who are foaming at the mouth with threats, warnings, complaints and insults, all against Putin and Russia. This is important because:

The “Zone A” media has comprehensively and very effectively concealed the very real risks of war with Russia, China and Iran. And if this was mentioned, the presstitutes always stressed that the US has the “best military in the history of the galaxy” and that Uncle Sam will “kickass” anybody he chooses to. If the people of the USA were informed of the truth of the matter, they would freak out and demand that this path to war be immediately abandoned and replaced with a meaningful dialog.

US/NATO/UK authorities have talked themselves into a corner where they have only two outcomes left: they can do what the US always does, that is to “declare victory and leave”, or they can force Russia to protect her borders on land, air and sea and, thereby, face a major military humiliation delivered by Russia.

Truth be told, during the recent naval exercises UK and US officials made a lot of threats and promises to ignore Russian warnings, but in the end, they quietly packed and left. Smart choice, but it must have been painfully humiliating for them, which is very dangerous by itself.

…

There will be many more NATO exercises in the Black Sea in the future. Ditto for USN operations off the Chinese, Iranian or DPRK coasts. This (always explosive) combo of ignorance, arrogance and incompetence could result in a major war.

LAnother option is the terminally delusional UK government (supported by those Brits who still have phantom pains about their lost empire and, of course, by the largely irrelevant 3B+PU gang) might do something really stupid (say, like this) and trigger a war with the DPRK, Russia, China or Iran and then the US would have to move to defend/save a British Navy which is mostly a joke (at least by Russian or Chinese standards). The main problem here being that the USN is also in a terrible shape and cannot compete against Russian and Chinese standoff weapons (I mean that literally, there are currently no defenses against maneuvering hypersonic missiles! The only exception would be the Russian S-500). The latter two nations, by the way, have joined into an informal and unofficial military alliance for many years already; check out this article and video or this one for a recent update).

But opposite, de-escalatory developments are also taking place. First and foremost, “Biden” seemed to have “farmed out” the “Ukrainian dossier” to the Germans and washed Uncle Shmuel’s hands from it. If so, that was a very slick and smart move (which is something we have not witnessed from any administration in decades!). I highly recommend this translation of a most interesting article by arguably the best Ukraine specialist out there, Rostislav Ishchenko.

Ishchenko goes into a lot of interesting details and explains what “Biden” apparently just did. Frankly, the Germans richly deserve this full-spectrum mess and they will be dealing with the consequences of this disaster for a long time, possibly decades. In fact, the Germans are stuck: they want to be the Big European Leader? Let them. After all, the EU politicians, led by Germany, did all they could to create what is now often called “country 404” – a black hole in the heart of the European continent. Germany is the biggest economic power of the EU? Good, then let the Germans (and the rest of the EU) pay for the eventual reconstruction of the Ukraine (or of the successor-states resulting from the breakup of the country)! Russia simply cannot foot that bill, China most definitely won’t (especially after being cheated several times by the Ukies) and the USA has absolutely no reasons whatsoever to do so. I would even argue that chaos (social, economic, political, cultural. etc.) in Europe is probably seen by the US ruling class as highly desirable since it 1) weakens the EU as a competitor 2) justifies, however hypocritically and mistakenly, a “strong US presence” in Europe and 3) gives NATO a reason (however mistaken, misguided and even immoral) to exist

The US is protected from the fallout (immigrants, violence, extremism, etc.) of the Ukrainian disaster by distance, the Atlantic, a much stronger military (at least compared to anybody else in NATO). The US can print money in any way it wants and has no interests whatsoever in the (dying) Ukraine. If Ishchenko is right, and I agree with him, then there is somebody (possibly a group of somebodies) who is a lot smarter than anybody in the Trump Admin and who figured out that the Nazi-occuppied Ukraine should be an German/EU problem, not one for the US.

There is, of course, also the pessimistic analysis: the US is on the retreat everywhere, but only for the following reasons:

Regroup, reorganize, buy time to develop some kind of coherent strategy

Focus on each adversary separately and prioritize (divide et impera at least!)

Re-analyze, re-plan, re-design, re-develop, re-train, re-equip and re-test pretty much everything in the US armed forces (which have not been shaped by any rational force planning in decades)

Those who believe the strategic retreat theory (I am not personally discounting this version, but I do not see enough evidence – yet – to endorse it either) typically add that “the US only left Afghanistan to hand it over to the Taliban/al-Qaeda and unleash them against “soft underbelly of Russia”. Now, that is utter nonsense, if only because Russia does not have a common border with Afghanistan.

…

Coming back to “Biden’s” great retreat: if “Biden” is smart enough to hang the Ukraine on Germany, “he” is probably too smart to predicate the US foreign policy towards Russia predicated around the “soft underbelly” thingie. As for all the “fire and brimstone” threats of war against Russia, they are not impressing anybody as the Russians, the Chinese and the Iranians know that a confident and powerful country does not need to threaten anybody, if only because the actual capabilities of these country are a very telling “threat” by themselves. But when a former superpower is weak, confused and frightened, it will make many roaring statements about how it can defeat the entire planet if needed (after all, the US military is “the best military in the history of the galaxy”! If you doubt that, just listen to Toby Keith!). In other words, while in the West threats are an instrument of foreign policy, in Russia, and in the rest of Asia, they are inevitably seen as a sign of weakness, doubts and even fear.

Then there seems to be a long list of weapons systems, procurement plans and “defense” monies which have been pulled back, including the (truly awful) LCS and F-35. While it is true that the US is gradually phasing out fantastically expensive weapons systems and platforms which were also more or less useless, this show the ability to at least admit that all that talk about super-dooper US superweapons was just that, talk, and that in reality the US MIC is incapable of producing the kind of superb high quality systems which it used to produce in large quantities in the past (Arleigh Burke, F-15, Jumbo 747, the Willys Jeep, F-16, A-10, Los Angeles SSN, KH satellites, etc.). This is why the F-15X is designed to “augment” the F-35 feet (by itself a very smart move!).

Such an admission, even if indirect and only logically implied, might show a level of maturity, or courage, by “Biden” which his predecessors did not have.

Could it be that the folks at the Pentagon, who do know the reality of the situation (see here for a very good Moon of Alabama article about this), figured out that Clinton, Bush, Obama and Trump vastly over extended the Empire and now they need to regroup and “re-everything” to achieve a more sustainable “defense” posture?

Could it be that “Biden” will deliver what Trump promised, i.e. to end the useless (and unwinnable!) wars, stop caring too much about the agonizing EU, silently accept that Russia has no intentions (and no need!) whatsoever to attack anyone and focus on the biggest non-military threat out there: China. Maybe.

As far as I know, many (all?) simulations – by RAND and the US military – and command staff exercises have shown that the US would lose badly to both Russia or China. Could it be that “Biden” wants to put Russia and China on the backburner and “deal” with Iran first? The latest news on the US/Israel vs Iran front is not good, to say the least.

…

So what are we left with?

Frankly, I am not sure.

I think that there is very strong, even if only indirect, evidence which there is some very serious in-fighting taking place in the “Biden” administration and there is also strong, but also indirect, evidence that the military posture of the United States is undergoing what might end up being a major overhaul of the US armed forces.

If true, and that is a big “if”, this is neither good news nor bad news.

But this might be big news.

Why?

Because, objectively, the current US retreat on most fronts might be the “soft landing” (transition from Empire to “normal” country) many Trump voters were hoping for. Or it might not. If it is not, this might be a chaos-induced retreat, indicating that the US state is crumbling and has to urgently “simplify” things to try to survive, thereby generating a lot of factional infighting (at least one Russian observer specialized in “US studies”, Dmitrii Drobnitskii, believes to be the case: see the original article here, and its machine translation here). Finally, the state of decay of the US state might already be so advanced that we can consider it as profoundly dysfunctional and basically collapsing/collapsed. The first option (soft landing) is unlikely, yet highly desirable. The second option (chaos-induced retreat) is more likely, but much less desirable as it is only a single step back to then make several steps forward again. The last option (profoundly dysfunctional and basically collapsing/collapsed) is, alas, the most likely, and it is also, by far, the most perilous one.

For one thing, options #2 and #3 will make US actions very unpredictable and, therefore, potentially extremely dangerous. Unpredictable chaos can also quickly morph into a major war, or even several major ones, so the potential danger here is very real (even if totally unreported in Zone A). This, in turn, means that Russia, China, Iran, the DPRK, Venezuela or Cuba all have to keep their guard up and be ready for anything, even the unthinkable (which is often what total chaos generates).

Right now, the fact that the US has initiated a “great retreat” is undeniable. But the true reasons behind it, and its implications, remain quite obscure, at least to me.

I will conclude by asking you, the readers, for your opinion: do you think that the US is currently in a “contraction phase”? If yes, do you believe that this is a short-term only phenomenon, or will this retreat continue and, if yes, how far?

#unz review #the saker

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androgynousblackbox · 3 years

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The anon tries to listen to POC, but often there's an extreme distance between how their Asian colleagues interpret a piece of media and how it's interpreted by American diasporas. For example, Asian friends interpreted the anarchist themes of Joker and praised the film, while the American fans focused on the fandom grown around the character and the "white characters get away with murder, Black characters don't get away with shouting" epidemic in American fandom and hated the idea of it. (1/2)

Anon observed similar situation with Shadow and Bone fans - Asian fans disliked how the racism subplot was executed, while American fans loved how the canonical couple is between two Asians (both actors are mixed & none of them is American, but fans neveral talk about the nuances). The anon's Russian self can't help but laugh at the Russianess being little more than poorly applied decorations in the setting. Of course, they're generalising, but those are the trends they observed happening. (2/3)

So, there's this. In Russia, Japanese teachers teach students how to wear a kimono properly and how to perform a tea ceremony while many Japanese Americans hate the idea of foreigners doing it. In several Asian countries, Joker became the face of rebellion while many Asian Americans see him as face of far right. Shadow and Bone has many Asian American fans, but the series is seen as clumsy at best by many Asian and Russian viewers. What do you think takes priority? (3/4)

The anon cannot write reasonably short, for which they are sorry! They remembered an earlier discussion about how Captive Prince is anti-Black and arguments like "it's not chattel slavery and the characters are not Black" are sealioning. But the story is written by an Australian and rooted in Australian understanding of race (the author is of the same raciallized ethnic group as the protagonist). The anon, who knows USA realities only from social media and fanfics, is really worried. (4/4)

Okay, this is a lot and before saying anything, I think is fair for me to say that I am nothing but a white latino on the internet trying to navigate english speaking fandom so there's only so much I can even say at all because my own knowledge is limited. I try to educate myself whenever possible but there's stuff I still have yet to learn. Having said that, yes, discourse such as any of these are always going to be vastly different from one culture to another because any form of racism is always intrinsically tied to the culture of the place where it happens. This is not to say that there aren't universal forms of racism, like how darker skin is generally considered less attractive or desirable on many places (including Latinamérica), but a lot of it is related back to the history of each country and whatever relationship they have to any particular race. The issue you mentioned of cultural appropiation is a very american one because america reunites so many people from so many different cultures that want to be seen and respected like everyone else. Again, not to say that it's not an issue on other places, but the way the discourse is handled and talked about is very much an american because of the way America is at the center of so many discourses and also the history of America dealing with different cultures, which is to say, not good. Anti-asian racism is a very well and alive thing right now that has resulted on hate crimes against asian just trying to live their lives, promoted and kept alive by even people in power who don't care about what happens to them. Imagine how terrible it is to hear a ex-president of America blame you, your family, your country, everyone who just looks like you, because of a disease that is killing other people. Your culture gets mocked, you get told cruel jokes about the food you eat, about your broken english, get questioned about stuff you had nothing to do with... and the same people who do that, then turn around and are using that same culture they treated less for to make themselves look cooler and trendy? And that doesn't translate at all in you being treated any less shitty, it just means that any meaning your culture had before is reduced to pretty things for other people to use and then forget about the moment other pretty thing caughts their attentions. Wouldn't that make you feel like shit? When asian american or black american or native americans talk about cultural appropiation, it's not about just saying that you can't do this or that because they are meanies who don't want to share their fun pretty things. It's about asking people to please reflect in why it's only cool when others do it but they don't, in how it feels insulting to see things that have a cultural significance to you reduced to a gimmick like any other, on asking why their fun pretty things can't be enjoyed by them and get mocked, insulted and ignored when they tried to do so. Sometimes it also means literally taking away business from communities that needs them without any recognition or payment. I have no clue about the history of Russia with Japan specifically, but if it's a Japanese person the one chosing to share that element of their culture with other people who, I assume, respect it and want to learn about, then that sounds like cultural appreciation for me and it's not at all what anyone in America is talking about when they talk about appreciation. Using a kimono and serving tea on a traditional way is a neutral act that only gains significance because of environment where it happens. About everything else... it's complicated and I am 100% with you when you say that it's very difficult to navigate as a non american don't wanting to come across as insensitive or uneducated or a full blown ass without meaning to. Unfortunately for us, the online discourse is not especially gentle for anyone who doesn't know everything American related and all the intrincated race relations on a first moment. I know this is especially hard for asian fans when americans ones want to insert their own

intepretations into their works just to make it look worse. I get it, because people say "listen to POC" but that really doesn't tell you shit of WHAT to listen for and how to understand when different cultural perspectives clashes with each other, which is almost entirely inevitable because we all come with our own cultural baggage. And even between two black americans or two asian people from the same asian country you could have vastly different opinions about the exact same topic because of them prefer to concentrate on different aspects of it. I guess the best thing to do is... do try to know what people are saying. If these group of people are saying this show is this or that, try to come to understand why they say it. And if other group is saying otherwise, listen to why. Sometimes you don't need to interject at all, sometimes your own opinion is not really needed, but at least try to see where everyone is coming from and realize that everything is an ongoing conversation where nothing is set in stone forever, especially when you account for reclamation, parody and other things that influence the way we percieve anything. Ask questions if you are confused, because you are going to be confused a lot and I am sorry, but that is part of the process. Read books if you need to. Google a lot, but also talk with people, watch videos of people talking about it and, if you want to engage, do it with a mentality of wanting to learn and understand. I hope any of this can be helpful at all. If not, I am sorry. I am still trying to figure out things myself.

#long post #racism mention

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ddarker-dreams · 5 years

Text

i hit 500 followers!! thank you all so much for the support <3 !!!

as i promised, i made a little thing with some general advice for writing yandere. please don’t think these are guidelines by any means, my writing is not perfect whatsoever! i just think these are things that might be helpful, and you can expand upon yourself. its fine if you dont do any of these things since writing is very fluid! experiment and have fun

Hello, Lock here, finally using proper capitalization for once. As a thank you for hitting 500 followers, I wanted to give my advice on writing yandere. This isn’t a make or break list of things, but it’s what I believe is important as someone who has spent a lot of time reading/writing yandere works.

For introduction’s sake, what is yandere? It’s considered as a character who is “love sick” to an unhealthy degree for another. But that is the basis for yandere, and it can be expanded upon depending on the character from that point.

I would like to compare yandere stories to the typical story format. Instead of exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution; I propose this.

I will be breaking down what these parts are, and how they are important to yandere story writing. Let’s get into it!

Meeting

Initial/later attraction

Confrontation

Pursuit

Final solution

Meeting:

This sounds pretty self explanatory, right? Every yandere story has to start with it. That stars aligned moment for the yandere, as they see their darling for the first time. I think a lot of people might find this segment boring, but if done right, it can be one of the most interesting (imo).

These are the questions to ask: Is there an inciting moment that causes the obsession? What are the circumstances? What point of view will you be writing from? And finally, thinking of nuances for the yandere’s descent into madness.

Having a set circumstance where a character becomes yandere for their darling is vital. It could be simple things, or could be the complete core of your story. Consider the yandere first, what do you think would complete them? Are they cold, lonely? Their darling being kind to them in their darkest hour could be the “circumstance” that sparks their obsession. Or, it could extend far back into their childhood, as an inciting moment that stays with them forever. There’s a lot of playing around you can do here! Let your imagination run wild for the meeting.

Point of view plays into this as well. Will you be writing from the darling’s point of view, where they can pick up on what the yandere is doing? Or will it be from the yandere’s point of view, detailing their dark thoughts and feelings towards their darling? I think that either can be good for a story. If you want to do both there are ways to incorporate that as well. Having the story start from darling’s POV, then later having the yandere’s POV... and such.

If you’re putting a lot of effort into your “meeting”, then you’ll be able to play off of it a lot for the rest of the story. It’ll pay off as you can branch out from the character you establish early on. A yandere’s reasoning for loving their darling is important, after all!

Examples of “Meeting” from my work: (1)

Initial/later attraction:

This is where it starts getting fun. Lots of yandere stories will start here, especially one-shots. Point of view is important to take into account here, as stated earlier. Creepiness is best slow burn, as you can write a character’s descent into madness. A lot of this will depend on the character you’re making yandere.

If they’re already morally upstanding, how would they justify their dark attraction? If they’re a good person already by our standards, this can be tricky. But you can use the meeting as a means to an end here. If their darling helped them when they needed it most, that would explain why the character will make immoral decisions. Some characters might want to protect a darling, might be more self aware of their selfishness, etc. Thinking about this can add a lot of nuances to your yandere!

If they’re not morally upstanding, it’s a bit simpler. Characters like this have already shown their selfishness/ability to bypass what’s socially acceptable. You can have them justify it to themselves, if you want, but it’s really a personal preference. Here you can go a bit more wild since the character has less limits, as they’ve already made a dark descent before.

Some of the things you normally see in this phase are as follows: stalking, finding out more information on darling, strange behavior towards darling, and plenty more. But lots of stories build off that foundation.

Examples of initial/later attraction from my work: (1)

Confrontation:

A yandere can only take their darling being away from them for so long. This could be closely compared to the climax of a story. You have written their stalking, their dark feelings, the meeting that made them this way. Now it can all pay off as something sets the yandere off (either their own thoughts or something that happens to the darling) and they go to take what’s theirs.

There is so much you can do here, but I feel like people don’t explore it enough. A lot of stories I’ve read, it goes “you’re mine!” and they just scoop them up. That’s fine and all, but there’s so much you can expand upon and have fun with!

Have your yandere show nuance. Impatience, cold distance, even from their darling. Let there be a build up. Some ideas could be (but not limited to): darling find out the yandere’s behavior, the yandere finally deciding to take away their darling (the classic), the darling trying to leave the yandere, and many more. Once you establish your confrontation, there needs to be an emphasis on two things: fear and love.

The fear that the darling will experience, explain it and don’t skip over this. If it’s from the yandere’s POV, go crazy describing the yandere’s thoughts and love. Depending on your confrontation’s situation, it can go a lot of ways. But it’ll typically end with the darling being taken away/threatened into compliance.

I’ll admit that writing fear in yandere stories can feel almost repetitive in a way, so I read over my work over and over again to try and spice it up. One of the best inspirations I have is my favorite yandere story, DatWeirdWriter’s ability to create a palpable sense of horror is... I can’t compliment it enough. If you’re ever feeling stuck come check this out. Heavy TW though.

Examples of “Confrontation” in my work: (1), (2), (3), (4)

Pursuit:

Pursuit is also a fun one. You had your yandere show their true colors, and now you can detail what immoral plans they have in place for their darling. This is typically where the darling is held against their will in a yandere story.

Will the yandere try to be affectionate and comfort their upset darling? Will the yandere get upset that their darling doesn’t return their feelings? Will the yandere punish their darling with various things in order to prove a point? This section should be about the yandere’s “pursuit” of their darling, as they can finally be themselves.

The darling’s feelings are important here as well. You can have them plan escapes, have them be chipped away at and slowly accept the yandere, or have them break down and much more. There are plenty of things to expand upon here.

In cases of escape, there’s also if the yandere gets them back. What dialogue happens there? What does the yandere feel? So many possibilities...

Try and put an emphasis on unique situations here. When I first started yandere, I used the same situations over and over again. One of your best tools is to daydream about situations you’d like, don’t be afraid to indulge yourself. If I even feel stuck, or like the situation I’m writing is boring, I go and read some of my favorite writers work. It’s inspiring and helps me brainstorm further.

Examples of “Pursuit” from my work: (1), (2)

Solution:

This would be what the yandere and darling have as an ending. Personally I rarely write one-shots for stuff like this as it’s my least favorite lmao. But it’s important if you’re writing a series. I’d say that this one is the least flexible, as it typically ends in one of two ways.

Darling escapes/yandere is stopped,

Or darling is held captive forever and yandere gets what they want.

The further details of these two endings can be at your discretion. Ranging from the darling attempting an escape, and getting snatched back up by the yandere and complying, an outward party coming to help the darling, and whatever suits your preference. There is also some endings I’ve seen where a yandere becomes “reformed”, and changes their ways.

Buuut that’s pretty tricky to do, but it can be done.

For the darling finally giving into the yandere, this can be a unique dynamic. Have they completely given up? Do they become a shell of their former self (and if they do does the yandere like that/dislike it)? My favorite thing to do with this is to have the darling love the yandere back, but have their own reservations.

A yandere will still have their possessive tendencies even if their darling does love them back.

Examples of “Solution” from my work: (1), (2), (3)

Once again, I wish to reiterate that these are not rules. I’ve seen plenty of works that probably wouldn’t fall into these categories (although it’s a small amount), and they’re amazing as well.

I’m hoping that all of the stuff I typed here amounts to something. If you ever have any questions or want advice feel free to message me! I’ll try and do my best to help you out. Thank you for reading if you got this far. If there’s anything you want to add please feel free to do so! I’m curious to see if anyone has thoughts to expand off it.

#lock.txt #yandere meta #?#yandere #yandere theory #writing advice

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causticameracrap · 4 years

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i hate that my life has come to this.

i was so happy* early this year............ apart from the body self-loathing in january. * (did this mean that life was perfect? absolutely not. i was still very much in my grief, very much feeling slighted and abandoned. but i wasn’t angry at myself. i didn’t hate myself. i was rightfully angry at circumstances outside of my control.)

i deserved better.

i was so excited to progress. i was excited for my future. i was excited to finally become someone who Might Be Someone, or Might Make Something, or Might Mean Something. but now... i don’t have anything to look forward to. what i thought would be certain is no longer, and may never return. i’m doubting myself and my abilities, after Finally, Just Fucking Finally beginning to trust in myself and value myself. and my mental health feels like it’s taken multiple steps backward. i’ve progressed in and with my grief, yes, but everything else has slid so fucking far down that’ll take Another series of years to get back to what was once baseline. and that baseline i need to claw back to is already so lacking and demoralizing already.

the BPD prevents me from seeing myself objectively. and for a while, i was managing it. i was seeing what others saw in me. i wasn’t listening to the Other Self that hates themself. i could fight back. but now... i don’t see my own successes that other people exasperatingly point out. they don’t matter because they are so small so they don’t exist. it’s been too long since i felt meaning so it doesn’t exist and it won’t exist. you aren’t successful so you are a failure. you are not loved so you are unloved. you are not any of these things so you are nothing. there are no other choices. there are no other ways to view yourself. there is no nuance in the void.

i want to be someone like Daniel. i want to achieve in Everything i set my mind to. i want to be good at Everything i can possibly do. i want to be one of the best at Something. i want to Matter to a lot of people. others point out that this is unreasonable to expect so much of yourself, that it’s greedy to reach for all of the figs from the tree, but there Are people who can! there are people who Do! there is Daniel and so many more like him. and they are rightfully celebrated for being multi-faceted and Incredible.

but i’m not, and rightfully so, because i fall so laughably short. my achievements are so small compared to others, who are way closer to Daniels than i am to even them. instead of being good, really Good without a doubt, at something... i am above average at a few, average at many, and below average to failing at many others. and now that i’ve put a name as to why my brain fails at what other people can conceive so easily, i feel even more of a failure.

i know deep in the back of my mind that i shouldn’t compare - especially now being self-aware at discalculia, and how it encompasses so many things in daily & academic & professional life. but i Have to compare. i Want to be better than average. i Want to matter. (is it so wrong to want????) i feel so poorly about myself because deep down i know i Can and Should be better. i Should and Can be the person people think i am.

and it hurts because i know i Could be that person... if things were different.

.... i hate that i wasn’t given a fair shot at life. it seems i was cursed from the womb. i wasn’t aware of all of the things wrong with me, but they were always there and i know them now. i was depressed for most of my life. and part of that is just being in an environment with an abusive mother who belittles and threatens you all of the time. and part of that is having the beginnings of various personality disorders, again exacerbated and likely caused by the abuse. and then the learning disorder that i didn’t even know i had, because thru sheer force of will i passed the usual landmarks that are usually the indicators / red flags, but... if i had gotten help with that sooner. if i could have gotten more help understanding spatial awareness. if i had been told that it wasn’t my fault that my mother was acting this way sooner. if i had been comforted or loved unconditionally. if i had been treated more kindly. if i had been given a safe outlet for my emotions, whether in therapy or literally with anyone i could trust. perhaps... my life would have been different. perhaps my life would have been better. and not perhaps. I Know My Life Would Have Been Different. i would have been Stronger. i would have been Smarter. i would have been more Successful. i would and could have been anything. but that wasn’t meant to be. and it’s not fair that it wasn’t.

some people are grateful of their neurological differences. i’m not. art... the creative life... i would honestly trade it away to be “normal.” yes, i said it! the most important aspects i’ve valued in my life & life’s journey are truly not that important at all! the only reason i wanted to go the road less traveled was because i knew my brain and myself wouldn’t be able to succeed there. i am afraid of failure. that is always my primary motivation: i am afraid of failure. if i was “normal,” i could succeed in the normal things. i could have went the STEM route like everyone else i fucking know before art school ruined my second shot at life. i could have had a more stable life. my creativity is meaningless in the face of a better self.

without every single fucking psychological issue (and there are So Many them and i am so Frustrated that there are so many of them because i’m So Fucked Up, despite all the progress i’ve made), i would be in a stable relationship. it would be easier to love myself. it would be easier to trust others. it would be easier to put myself out there in the position to create love with someone else. as much as i am lonely, i am so afraid of being rejected. and any chance i have taken has been met with failure. how could i not equate that with me being unworthy of love? how could i not just fall into despair and distance myself? i Hate that it Would have been different. living with someone in reality instead of fantasies in my head.

writing and creating art is a way to deal with my pain, but if i didn’t have the pain... if i wasn’t depressed & abused & a fucking idiot... i Wouldn’t have a Need for art. if things had been different, there would be no subject, no reason to entertain that path. my real artist statement is pain - self-inflicted and self-endured. rarely, it has included other’s pain, but it is always negative. no wonder my art means nothing to so many. who wants to wade thru someone else’s fucked up mind with no real end goal? who wants to wade thru body of work after body of work describing the same old shit, and not even executed well? i certainly don’t blame them. look at the photo over there instead.

truthfully, my first love was space. during elementary lunch or library times i would sit against the walls that looked so big then with space books as thick as my arm. i would read about saturn and hug it to my chest. i would excitedly tell facts about jupiter and all of its moons to my friends. i would watch star wars on laser disc every other week, looking up in wonder at the ships sailing thru space and time, wanting to wander so easily just as they did. but my brain would never be able to handle it. as soon as i learned what was required, i knew it would never be. that was the first time my heart was broken. everything else in my life has been settling. that’s right, art is just something i settled on.

if i was looking at the stars, discovering things... i think i would Actually be happy. analyzing the photographs of distant nebulas and planets, instead of the bullshit i’ve snapped on my own. writing about our place in this galaxy, and how it relates to countless others, instead of focusing on my own life - which obviously means absolutely fucking Nothing in the scope of everything. (and i would be okay with that!) working on a telescope, instead of all the broken aspects of myself.

i wouldn’t even need to reach the summit. i wouldn’t need to be floating in a space station. i would be happy on the ground. i wouldn’t need to be a director. i would be happy behind screens and buttons. i would be happy as a body of many. because i would matter to myself first.

there with space... i wouldn’t be caught up in whether my art is better / is worth more or the same than another’s. i wouldn’t be overwhelmed with insecurities and artistic imposter’s syndrome. i would be working in the Objective. this thing exists. this is a specific phenomena. it is now being given a name. it is now being studied. you are now studying it. it is now being reviewed. if there is critique, you will address accordingly. you don’t have to worry about whether or not someone has an emotional or financial connection to it - a person either believes or doesn’t. the study is either sound or un-sound. the work is either published or unpublished. the mission is either a success or a failure. procedures are either followed or not. you are either looking or you aren’t. these are the blacks and whites you can handle. this is how your brain operates.

it’s easier for me to write off a dumbass who refuses to see beyond the shadows of a cave, than someone who doesn’t like my shadow and prefers the puppets of someone else. i can’t handle the subjective. why are my shapes worth less to you than his? aren’t we using the same fingers? aren’t we projecting on the same cave? why do you believe in those truths more than mine? i can’t handle the critique of my work because it Must be tied to myself and my pain. if you can’t understand the work, you can’t understand me. if you don’t like the work, you don’t like me. there is no separation between the created and creator. perhaps this too is a lack of spatial awareness. perhaps it is not the BPD holding me back but discalculia yet again. maybe it was the culprit all along. i wish i had realized it sooner.

the truth is, i shouldn’t be here in these circles. maybe i was never meant to be here. truthfully, i wish i wasn’t here. if there was a way to slide into that alternate timeline, Over Somewhere Else to live the Other Mica’s life, i would. i would and i would never look back.

there’s nothing i’ve gained from being different. and i’ve made nothing of it. if i could do it all again with another build, i would. even if my upbringing remained the same, if those points could be put into the traditional AP route: the calculus & the physics & the SATs & 4 years & the degrees, i would. then every resulting choice would be different. every resulting outcome would be sound. i would be someone else. and i would be Someone.

#prose diary

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just-honey-dewd · 4 years

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What medium best expresses Sonic’s character?

Right, so this is a bit of a detour from the typical Hazbin Hotel posts I’ve been making, but I really did a heck-ton of work to come up with this. Then again, I type overly long paragraphs as a hobby, so jokes on anyone who thinks I don’t do this for fun... but then again... jokes on me for making the time to type Hamilton-esque essays on fictional characters ._.

Okay enough with tangents, this is an essay dedicated to answering what medium -- songs, scenes, cartoons, maybe even a comic issue -- best encompasses Sonic’s character. Take in mind, throughout the 29-almost-30 years of Sonic, there have been many iterations and takes on the character that either differentiate on a minor level, or to the point that some Sonics when compared seem to be starkly different characters altogether, so this is purely what I feel is the best take on Sonic’s character. For my sake, I’ve sworn off including material that require a long-winding read through some mediocre storylines -- nothing personal, Archie Comics. I won’t be covering Archie Comics because I’ve yet to finish reading all 200+ comic issues because that’s not humanly possible for me. If I ever manage to though, I might make a post about Archie Comics in some way. For now, here’s my personal essay on “What medium best expresses Sonic’s character”

Starting off with shows...

Sonic SatAM (1993) and Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) are products of their time, and I never got to watch them when I was young, so I hold no sentimental nostalgia. Sonic SatAM seems in-line with Archie Comics, with the Freedom Fighters plotline and the infamous Sonic mohawk with lasted for a significant amount of issues. Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog was pretty comical and lighthearted in comparison. Both were voiced by Jaleel White, had the same artstyle, and established Sonic’s character in vastly different tones. It’s rather outdated as Sonic has lived past the 90s for 20 years, where he got revised and reinvented to suit the decades. So both characterizations are simply inapplicable to Sonic’s character.

2003′s Sonic X worked off of the newly reinvented Sonic and paved way for Sonic’s personality for the following years, but I do have critique over the show, and their execution of Sonic’s character. Though they did provide Sonic's "constant desire to run", he lacked soul and the over-the- top nature of his character. Sonic throughout this show displayed a rather hollow connection with his relationships, was as distant and aloof as Knuckles for seemingly no reason, lacked much depth and barely developed, and was overall, very poor with communicating his thoughts and actions -- which ultimately led to a number of plot lines where his friends and/or authorities saw his intentions as malicious or even evil. Sonic is hyperactive and free-spirited -- something this show doesn't fail to display -- but Sonic lacked his heart. Where was that desire to hang out with his friends? Where was the underlying love and compassion he'd constantly display in and out of battle? Where were his cheesy yet well-meaning impromptu speeches? These aspects of Sonic were sorely lacking and missed when I watched through this series which is why I believe this anime didn’t really express Sonic's character.

Sonic Boom...

...is a lighthearted, slapstick sitcom-based comedy. Very episodic, which is aight, but the the show’s execution as a whole was mediocre-borderline-bad. It doesn't have much elements inherently Sonic-esque -- it's a product of the Modern era, which at this point, doesn’t seem to have good connotations. No worthwhile soundtrack, stunted animation and movement, embarrassingly heavy reliance on overused archetypes/stereotypes at the expense of the characters, repetitive plots that get the THICC layer of frosted sarcasm and self-awareness. Sonic had attitude sure, there was a clear level of disinterest and cynicism to this portrayal -- it was as though protecting people felt like a burden and chore to him. It doesn’t help that this feeling is justified as Eggman’s been reduced to a pathetic Saturday Morning villain with lesser competency in being a world threat, and much rather a constant nuisance to Sonic’s town than anything else. Subjectively speaking, this show's clearly not for me -- even when I was in the supposed age range at the time. Objectively, this Saturday morning cartoon should've been branded as it is, rather than a Sonic cartoon because the identity of Sonic the Hedgehog definitely got skewed and misconstrued by the eyes of newcomers whose first exposure to Sonic the Hedgehog character was this. Ironically, due to this show, I subsequently furthered my distance from the franchise at that age, and got into it much, much later in life.

Now moving onto the songs...

Initially, I considered “Escape from the City”, “Live and Learn", "His World" and "Fist Bump" as good contenders in defining who Sonic is. But through some vigorous looping of those songs, I've pinpointed what they've to offer in showing Sonic's character, and due to my consistent nature of typing overly long arguments about anything I find interesting, I'll be putting each song into its own paragraph -- picking out any significant verses, and explaining why I think each song subconsciously contributed to my thought process that they would be the best take on his character. Afterwards, I’ll finish with my conclusion. (I personally suggest you go listen to each song as you read each paragraph)

"Escape from the City" is a timeless bop, and I will play it in the car whenever I'm actively escaping from authorities in my city. What this song does is use rhythmic beats and repetitive bass line to emulate the constant adrenaline and excitement Sonic feels when he's moving around, it embodies his carefree nature and spontaneity to a T. It succeeds in portraying the energetic, upbeat aspect of his personality as the song itself contrasts the very dangerous implication of being chased down by the government for a crime you didn't commit. Sonic doesn't get enough credit for the amount of cheerful optimism he has -- always moving with a spring in his step, or steps considering the speed part. He brushes off the most life-threatening dangers he has to face and takes it all in with that well known Sonic™ grin. It also shares a constant message of "Live and Learn" (which the song of the same title) -- this is a rather succinct version of Sonic's mantra. The song is very Sonic, but only manages to show his surface level personality. Kinda like Sonic X's theme song "Gotta Go Fast" but it's much less in your face about Sonic's whole shtick. Another thing to note is the element of "escape" is a constant in both "Escape from the City" and "Endless Possibility", which I'll get further into later. Given that this song was more focused on the primary objective of ‘City Escape’ the game level rather than exploring Sonic’s fundamental character, it's very cool how it just so happened to tie in well with him...

"Live and Learn" was more of a Sonic and Shadow song, so I already kinda figured it wouldn't manage to explore Sonic's character much. The first verse and chorus offers as much for Sonic's character as Shadow's oh-so few lines of verse 2 does. Again, the song only manages to provide Sonic's surface level personality. Reason it came up in my mind was because of the words 'Live and Learn'. It's a very motivational and inspiring line -- what got me thinking about Sonic’s character in the first place. It's an unspoken rule for him to take life headfirst and live in the moment, and legit the second issue of the IDW's comics reiterates this by Amy expressing that this free-spirited approach to life is what essentially makes her love him.

"Fist Bump" was like my first exposure to Sonic main theme songs -- and I'm still into listening to the song. I realize the lyrics are pretty generic, but it does reflect the general focus of Sonic character very well -- which may further explain why Modern Sonic is much less... developed, to say the least. What the lyrics essentially hone in on are Sonic's loyalty to his friends and his.... unyielding determination? Honestly, a very generic take for a main theme, and it reflects on the quality of the game if even the music lacked much personality compared to any heroic video game character theme song. Sonic had more personality to offer in his silent protagonist games, compared to this. This issue with Sonic's character barrels down to Modern Sonic retaining his previous counterpart's cheesy insistence to spout improvised speeches and embrace the power of friendship -- though it's definitely gotten out of hand in this case. We need balance.

Making Sonic more family-friendly ≠ Dumbing down what nuance or individuality there was to his character and making him every other generic hero protagonist who quips for 90% of his dialogues.

Finally, "His World", but I'll do Crush 40 and Zebrahead's separately, sort of. Crush 40 explicitly tells Sonic's character how it is -- his strict moral code, good intuition, confidence in himself, "seize the day" mentality, straightforward disposition, stubborn determination, love for his friends, and fearless risk-taking -- it's pretty lengthy but it does a good job as Sonic's theme and manages to state what it's like in his world. However, the song faces eerily similar issues to "Fist Bump" with it's lack of creative interpretation with its lyrics, and compared to "Escape from the City", it seems more formal and serious in tone which is reflective of their portrayal of Sonic.

I interpret Sonic as a multifaceted character, but when listing out all those traits in the verses and chorus in the song’s tone and format melody-and-lyric-wise, the song makes it appear as though Sonic is strictly a pillar of justice and represents the strong, untouchable hero persona -- which I find to be a detrimental writing aspect for his character. It writes off his personality as second priority to the reputation that would have receded him through the years of defeating Eggman and saving the world -- and subsequently, paints his character in a rather dulled and overly no-nonsense light. Not saying I don't want Sonic to be serious at certain points, but I think with this song, and this game as a whole, there was some truth to the issue of Sonic '06 being a little too serious. While these characters were well-written in this game e̶x̶c̶e̶p̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶r̶d̶ ̶p̶o̶i̶n̶t, I've had personal issues tied to em:

Shadow coming back was quite risky and foolhardy for his character journey and I believe if it weren't for the great execution for his storyline in '06, his appearance would've been viewed as fanservice -- which is what he's sadly been reduced to now

Silver's character concept as a whole was pretty dark and serious, which again isn’t a bad thing, but with the plot resulting in him seeing Sonic as the Iblis Trigger, it limited Sonic's ability to play up his easy-going, carefree nature since he couldn’t just brush off that accusation with offhanded remarks as that would’ve risked Sonic coming off as insensitive and unsympathetic at that moment. Which is not what the writers want their characters to go.

Elise. There, I said it.

On top of it all, "His World" is pretty slow-going for Sonic’s theme, which I could try justifying by saying it might’ve been a representation of significant growth to Sonic's character -- perhaps the journey managed to shape him into a man (hedgehog) who could spare a bit of time to contemplate his next course of action -- as this game definitely explored a major deviation from typical Sonic game story lines. But, even with that, I still really prefer Zebrahead's version.

Zebrahead's is vastly the same when telling Sonic's character how it is, but the instrumentals, pacing and speed is increased significantly that it definitely sounds more reminiscent of Sonic's musical style -- fast-paced rock and roll. But, I’ve yet to figure out the significance of the lyrics:

Especially when it follows right after "Never fear the fall" -- so you take the leap of faith, but also don't let yourself fall in the process? Pretty weird flow of words there, but maybe I’m just not getting it at all. Point is, what both songs hone in on is Sonic's intuitive sense of justice and a bit of his carefree nature -- since the lyrics from Zebrahead's specifically highlight on Sonic's "leap before looking" nature. What Zebrahead further hones in on is his adventurous and hyperactive qualities as verse 1 and the bridge show. It's a timeless song of anticipation and build-up with good execution, but it doesn't cover the main essentials in what makes Sonic Sonic.

Finally, reaching the song I've found best covers the basics and essentials to Sonic's character is...

Believe it or not, “Gotta go fast” encompasses the defining characteristics of a well-written Sonic -- the title itself is a testament to the his motto and is all things Sonic stands for.

While this refers directly to the plot of the show itself, it manages to familiarize us with the speed and urgency crucial to Sonic’s character and--

Okay, clown time’s over, here’s the real winner.

Unleashed's main theme: "Endless Possibility"

From the get-go, intro already separates itself from the other songs by being freeing and exciting, without being too carefree like "Escape from the City", too orchestral or urgent like "His World", and definitely more compelling lyric-wise compared to "Fist Bump". This tone is a constant throughout the song, and makes it seem like Sonic's the one directly singing -- the singer nailed it with the level of obnoxious and genuine tone to his voice.

This song, like the rest of the other main themes, reflect the game itself. Unleashed is a race against time for Sonic to fight Dark Gaia before the Earth gets torn apart. But similar to the gameplay and form of story, the music is very fast-paced yet unburdening, with hints of inner contemplation, and darkness (or how I like to put it, edge). The first verse already succeeds in getting into the bare bones of Sonic's character -- he runs, he can never stay still out because he knows that's not who he is, he's free-spirited and will run around the world out of his own volition, it's a form of escape and liberty to him -- and this is what ties into "Escape from the City”. This verse sums up the essential traits to Sonic better than any of the previous songs without letting one attribute overpower it. It refers to his three fundamental traits: that he's fast, adventurous and carefree.

The pre-chorus further expands from verse 1's establishments, by showing the deeper, inner turmoil that pass through Sonic's mind -- “How will I know when I get there? And how will I know when to leave?” -- these are the rare instances where Sonic is found in inner conflict with himself which came out of his simplistic philosophy rather than an external conflict or influence, and it's more of unspoken and nuanced as Sonic never usually calls himself into question for the way he lives. This showcases that he's capable of processing the long-term effects of living and moving around aimlessly -- constant adventure and freedom might eventually feel mundane, so he might eventually find the destination his heart feels is right for him, so what will he do when that period of his life unfolds, and will this period end the days of adventure and freedom? The possibilities are never-ending, so as always, he'll take everything in stride, and prepare for whatever hits him.

This is what the song's main theme is. Endless possibility. Potential and growth -- which reflects back to Sonic: mentally, physically and emotionally. Mentally, he's acknowledged that he's always growing and developing throughout his adventures -- as there's one thing that no one, not even Sonic can outrun, and that's change. "Endless Possibility" opens us up to the concept of ever-changing development for Sonic, and the possibility that he might eventually reach his unknown destination and end this long-running journey, while also implying that every journey that he goes through and ends -- whether it directly ties into the games or off-screen adventures -- will always lead with a new one. Unleashed encompasses this youthful feeling of change and vigor. Sonic is in his element and is going through a personal journey to save the world once again, but as always, he'll do it with enthusiasm and unbridled drive.

Interestingly, Unleashed feels reminiscent of Sonic X's Sonic but done right. Both have the character mostly isolated from his friends for the majority of their respective stories, but where Sonic X forces Sonic to clean up on Isle Eggbot each episode, Unleashed puts him through a singular adventure that requires he takes care of the major issue at stake while the others are doing their respective jobs or living their own lives. Unleashed's Sonic even has a temporary companion which he clearly warms up to and befriends throughout the whole journey, whereas Sonic X shows Sonic actively dismissing his previous friends to sleep, travel, and adventure for the heck of it -- while they spent a majority of the first season trying to find the chaos emeralds without him.

Sonic being isolated is usually due to situational happenstance rather than conscious preference. Sonic isn't inherently solitary or aloof, it's just due to his ability to move from place to place with ease that he subsequently has to leave his friends behind to confront the source of the problem. It's not a part of his character that he plays lone wolf like those archetypal "cool characters", the nature of what he does and excels at leads him to fight front and center, even if it means doing it alone. Despite this, he still is the sentimental, over-the-top dork that believes in the power of friendship and will go to the ends of the Earth to protect his friends. Which is exactly what he does in Unleashed.

The bridge provides the hints of edge where Eggman and Sonic exchange dialogue in the song, very much referring to the events of Unleashed's intro battle between the two. Eggman essentially tells Sonic to give up as he's actually beaten him -- which Sonic replies that it's not over, that this is just another start to another journey. The lyrics aren't very subtle about what they're saying, but it does a good job in encompassing two key traits when Sonic responds to any threats -- his cheerful optimism and unyielding determination. He doesn't respond to danger with simply quips, he responds to it with a campy but genuine declaration of strength and courage. The cheesiness in his words are very prominent, but he says them with a straight face like he's announcing his battle cry and promise to do what it takes to save the world and protect the ones he love.

In short, "Endless Possibilty" manages to fully encompass the best iteration of Sonic, and humanizes him to the point that I can only really see this as the current best sum up of his character without any needed dialogue, animation, or prior context. This song could just be tied directly to Sonic's overall character outside of the game's plot, and I'd be fine.

#my posts #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic character essay #my character essays #small spoilers for idw #another session of overly long essays from yours truly

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