#so it would be far easier for him to accept it current world tho its not even a thought cuz its completely unnecessary to their characters

[coffinsister]

What's your opinion on Ashley and Andrew having babies? I don't think Ashley would want kids at first, or see them as just a way to keep Andrew happy, but I think Andrew would go into heat wanting to get Ashley pregnant as soon as he realized it'd irrevocably connect her to him even further and she'd have a constant reminder of who she belongs to

I think they have twins one girl one boy with pink green heterochromia and also I think we have very different outlooks on Andrew lol

I don't think Ashley would want kids in the sense that she has some sort of maternal instinct but I see Ashley as a pretty not calculating perse person but a person who tries to think a lot

At the end her impulsivity wins but she does try to think first

And I see her just constantly thinking about ways to ensure her own survival Andrew is the only social circle she has any access to without him she's done for, so she can either sacrifice never having any sex with anybody at all if Andrew doesn't want to be with her

(Which I totally believe she wants him to choose to be with her, it would be a tactical sacrifice not to)

But if he does want to, then the pregnancy is a really good way to ensure he stays with her.

A really good way to ensure either his love, or that he's guilty and "Bad" enough to not be able to leave her.

Andrew on the other hand, I don't think he would want the kids at all, and I don't think he would ever fully truly connect with them at all.

He loves her, so he will stand the kids, but he doesn't need any sort of proof, or irrevocable binding towards her, because Ashley is already choosing to stay with him at all times. Being there is what she wants.

Plus, he definitely wouldn't want the kids simply because they would be a liability on their freedom.

But he would think it's really hot to dom the hell out of his bratty little sister and put her in her place make sure she never thinks about getting pregnant from anybody else Not like Ashley ever thinks about that either way

[sun-stormz]

Genshin Impact Visions & Gods

This has been bugging me since i started playing in mid november, but what makes a certain Archon give a Character their Vision. Considering i couldnt find any official info, I decided to do some research on each Archon and then on the player Characters we have of each element as of beginning of December 2020.

This will contain spoilers on characters & story!

Note: The travelers will not be included due to them not having Visions and having more then one Element.

I am basing this on overlaping themes and not on anything related to the actual Archon. I did add some info on the archons tho, due to this being about Visions and archons

“It is unclear whether Visions are directly granted by its element's corresponding Archon or by the nation's Archon. There is also the possibility that granting a Vision requires approval from both Archons. Yet another possibility is that they are granted by neither, and are instead given by the gods on Celestia.”

-Genshin Wiki on reciving Visions

Starting with my Favourite Element, Electro.

Electro wise, We have five Characters as of right now: Kequin, Razor, Beidou, Fishl and Lisa. The Electro Archon, God of Eternity, Baal, is the ruling Archon of the Area, Inazuma, whitch is the area we are getting in the 1.4 update in 2021.

To start off i read into any info i could find on Baal and i gotta say, she is a interesting Fellow. As of right now we know that Baal has locked Inazuma down and has initiated a Vision Hunt Decree, due to her thinking Visions should be under the sole domain of divinity. She also hasnt handed out any Visions since this decree which means all Electro characters we know have gotten theirs before this drastic change.

Now, why did these 5 characters get their Visions? Well each character has a different reason, from Razor wanting to protect those he calls friends to Lisa simpley saying it would be of use to her and just getting it. From what I've found there isnt really a big overlap in the reciving of the characters, but what is overlaping is their fixation on something.

Razor recived his vision due to him being fixated on getting stronger to protect his friends after he failed to while being dragged away by an abyss mage

Kequin was fixated on sharing her beliefs, that the people of Lyiue shouldnt rely on Rex Lapis and have their Pride and that their views are of Equal importance

Fishl was so fixated on a book series she changed herself to be like the main character, fishl and her Vision manifested in the form of Oz, one of the characters from said book

Beidou was fixated on killing Haishan, a sea monster, from a young age and recived her vision when she did so

Lisa is pretty much fixated on understanding magecraft and the cost of reciveing a Vision.

Now onto a easier Element, Geo

The Archon of Geo and Contracts, Morax, Archon of Lyiue.

Morax or Rex Lapis, was one of the oldest gods, defended Lyiue in the Archon war, the Currency in Teyvat, Mora, is named after him and as of Chp.1 Act 3 we know that he has taken the form of Zhongli and has retired as the Geo Archon.

Morax, Along with Barbatos, are the only two Archons of the Original Seven that havent been replaced.

Now, who are our Geo Characters? Noelle and Ningguang, two dedicated powerhouses! This one is fairly simple, thanks to voicelines we have of Zhongli since he came out as a player character (Bless the pity pull for giving me this man)

In his “About Ningguang” Voiceline he says: ”Despite the multitude of affairs she deals with in a day, Ningguang always continues to press on. A rare gem indeed. I'm reminded of the time that she used to walk barefoot from Yaoguang Shoal to the south wharf, trying to sell her wares as she went. Time is cruel to humans.”

Noelle recived her vision when Jean Acknowledged her hard work when she tried to get into the knights of favonius. in her “Vision” story it states: This was a lucky day that she would always remember, for she would receive recognition from two all-important sources this day: once from Jean, and the other from the gods. Her hard work has been remembered after all.

So for short: Hard working and dedicated = Geo Vision

Next up we have Anemo

Our wonderful Tone deaf bard, Venti or otherwise known as the Archon of Anemo and freedom, Barbatos, the not really ruling Archon of Mondstadt.

Barbatos is a freedom loving guy and refuses to rule over Mondstadt, the city of freedom and is by far the weakest of the Archons, despite this the people of Modstadt still love and adore their windy God.

I went into this one thinking “Oh this is easy, itll be love for freedom or something!” Nope, it surprisingly wasnt. Jean and sucerose recived their visions through their Determination it seems. Sucerose from doing her 159th Dandilion seed Simmering experiment and Jean seemed to be determened to be a good grandmaster and to protect Mondstadt.

That aside, i couldnt find many overlaps with the two, they are both free spirited and love what they do.

Now on to Pyro

Pyro, the Element of the Archon Murata who is also the god of War, is wielded by the fan fav Diluc, as well as Klee, Xiangling, Amber, Bennett and Xinyan.

Not much is known about Murata, Venti describes her as a “ wayward, warmongering wretch” and thats about all we know. She presides over Natlan.

Now to the characters, this was acually the easiest of them all: Passion.

Every Pyro user has a huge amount of passion that a rolemodel or Loved one ignited within them.

This one definitly surprised me the least and i am really excited for when we meet Murata and Natlan.

Diluc has the same passion his father had

Klee has a passion for Explosives that her mother ignited

Xiangling has a passion for food and cooking she got from her father

Amber got her Passion for Mondstadt and the outriders from her grandfather

Bennett got the Passion for adventure from all the old adventurers he calls dads, yes Dads as in plural, that raised him

Xinyan has a passion for Rock, tho i havent found out more of her story due to her being so new.

Now heading onto Hydro

Hydro, along with Dendro, is the only element where we do not know the name of the Archon. All we do know is that they are the Archon of Hydro and Justice and rule over Fontaine.

So straight to the Hydro characters: Barbara, Mona and Xingqiu.

I dont really count Childe due to the only thing talked about is his dilusion and i am rather confused on if he even has a real vision but i still love him lots

Im going to be honest this one really had me running the brain gears for a while.

All three recived their Vision as an extension of the self.

Barbara  got hers after helping a sick boy by singing to him to help him sleep through a fever, Mona rekindeled a learning aid to her vision, to aid her with her search for the truth of the rules of the world and Xingqiu got his after he explained the principles of his clans martial arts anew, litterally saying that martial artists should see Visions as a extension of the self.

Last but definitly not least, Cryo

Cryo, the Element of the Archon know as the Tsaritsa. We acually dont know her corrisponding ideal nor her acual name and this one was just as geargrinding as Hydro.

The Tsaritsa, Ruler of the fatui and the one that gives them their Dilusions, is one interresting lady. We get a description of her from Childe: “Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa is actually a gentle soul. Too gentle, in fact, and that's why she had to harden herself. Likewise, she declared war against the whole world only because she dreams of peace. Her gaze was cold but pure, arrogant yet sharp. She was not only the sacrosanct Cryo Archon but a true warrior also.”

Kaeya, Chongyun, Diona and Qiqi, our current four Cyro userer, all have rather interesting storys when it comes to how they got their Vision.

All dont accept something

Kaeya felt guilty about hiding who he was from the family that adopted him after his father abandoned him to be a spy in Mondstadt, and told Diluc, someone he used to be very close with, the truth, since then he sees his vision as a stern reminder that he must live his life under a heavy burden of Lies. He pretty much doesnt accept the truth of his situatin and would rather live with that heavy burden

Chonyun is surpressing a part of himself, the condition he has, and as Xiangling says in Chongyuns stories, is denying a part of him. He trys to work around his condition and wont accept it as the way to go about how he practices exocrism.

Diona wont accept the truth about her father being a Alcoholic, and places the blame on the Alcohol industy instead of accepting that he isnt as high and mighty as she thought. She wont accept that her fathers bad control over his drinking habits is the reason he acts as he does and instead blames the alcohol industry.

Qiqi didnt want to accept her death nor does she really accept her Zombie like traits and only uses them when she needs to defend herself.

My theory is the Cyro Visions are recevied when you wont accept the grim reality as it is, if this is positive or negative variates

When it comes to the last element, Dendro, we sadly know nothing nor have we seen any dendro character in action. So that might be a addition later on.

I’m really interrested if we find out the actual criteria for reciving each Vision one day

[peterbae]

Into it — Starker

W: age difference, incest kink — Peter and Tony aren’t actually related, but they like to pretend they do, exhibitionism kink

Author’s note: Okay, so I saw this @starkerxstarker ‘s  prompt and decided to write something just for myself. I decided to publish it tho, so I hope you’ll enjoy it!

(English isn’t my first language so forgive me for any mistakes) ...

Well, the blame wasn’t his to begin with, no matter what Tony says now.

It started pretty normal with Tony’s “Yes, show Daddy how much you love his cock.”, when Peter was going down on him, and then it turned into something more.

After discovering that they both shared this one specific kink, they made the very best of it. It turned them on more than anything else before — age difference, the obvious power play and an adrenaline rush they got from thinking they could get caught. And get caught they did…

The only peaceful morning Avengers could have (since Thor was absent due to him visiting Lady Jane), as Clint referred to it every time he told this story, the heroes were eating their breakfast. Pop tarts weren’t flying in the air so they deemed it a success. Steve made some French toasts and their happy chatter could be heard from the elevator. Unfortunately, if someone was engaged in other business, the presence of Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Hawkeye and the Falcon could be missed. Especially when a ride from ones bedroom to communal kitchen took so long and you were graced with company of your younger, persuasive boyfriend.

The two appeared in the hall, abandoning elevator’s wall for the hall’s one. It was just Parker’s luck, as Tony later explained, that their current location gave the group perfect view of what was happening. Mind you, they were about to stop them, but before they could, Tony’s mouth found its way to younger man’s neck and as he threw his head back, he moaned: “Oh, Daddy”.

The silence that followed was broken by gagging sounds made both by Clint and Sam. Natasha just raised her perfect eyebrow and Steve… Well, he blushed and asked them to take a seat.

What the Avengers did not know was that he liked it. One look at Tony made Peter’s knees weak and he could hardly focus on his breakfast. But he survived awkward boner and later on had very successful time in older man’s lab. Genius noticed — of course he did. He always did. And if Peter cum on the spot after hearing Stark’s dirty talk and mentions of glass walls that exposed them to anyone who would dare to visit Tony’s dungeon, as they liked to call it, nobody needed to know.

But then it turned into something else. After accepting the whole daddy kink thing they had going on, they went on a little trip. Somehow they ended up in some small town in Virginia. It wasn’t as bad as Tony made it to be and Peter really liked town’s aesthetic. It was also very funny to see his daddy stumble when the fifth person he tried to charm didn’t recognise him. Peter hid his mouth in his fist and tried to stay calm, when the oblivious waitress took their order.

“And anything else for your son?” She asked, and Peter immediately froze. He looked up only to see genius’s unreadable expression. “No, that will be all, thank you.” He told young woman.

When he caught genius’s eye, he didn’t know if he was upset. Tony gave the waitress his press smile and then focused on his own food. Spider-man couldn’t quite figure him out so he did the same.

You see, the thing is, Peter didn’t know if his boyfriend was upset, but he did know that waitress’s words excited him. Only couple of minutes later he caught Tony’s gaze on his red cheeks, which made him blush even more.

Peter coughed, trying to act like he was fine, but the dark eyes that were currently on his mouth didn’t make it easier. “Eat your pancakes, Pete. Dad’s got a thing he has to take care of later.” He murmured and Peter knew he was in for a hell of a ride.

The pension they were staying in wasn’t too far, so about half an hour later, they found themselves in their room. Peter’s back was on the wall, his hands held above his hand in a tight grip.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Tony asked, getting younger man to shiver under his gaze. “The thought of them seeing us as father and son.” Older man continued. “You like being seen as this pure, innocent boy, huh, Pete?” He asked and all Peter could do in response was nod. He whined, high pitched voice going straight to genius’s cock. “Now, now, Pete, use your words.” The older man hummed, scratching the back of spider-man’s neck. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” He teased.

Peter blinked, his eyes slowly focusing on a figure in front of him. His eyes a little bit darker than usual, his mind practically blank because of their little making out session. It took him a minute, but Anthony was nothing if not a patient man (he really wasn’t, but for his dearest, he could wait). He waited this long and Peter knew he could wait longer. He wasn’t going to give in, no matter how desperate his boyfriend was.

“Ah, I—I do.” Younger moaned eventually. “You… Your age..” He groaned but somehow he knew that Tony knew what he meant. He wasn’t wrong, because brunette soon took a pity on him and his fingers found its way to Peter’s hole.

The thing is, it didn’t end with that. They continued, at first a little hesitant (Peter) and amused (Tony), not leaving their bedroom as they often did before discovering this new kink. It’s been almost three weeks after their little trip to Virginia, when Peter, face flushed with embarrassment, threw something at Tony. It was an ad, apparently targeted at fathers and their teenage sons. Older male only sent him a quick glance, raised one eyebrow, but didn’t say a word. The next thing he knew, KAREN informed him about the new appointment on his calendar and boy, was he excited.

The festival or whatever the thing was, wasn’t what Peter suspected it would be. He thought about something more or less related to countryside carnivals. At least, that’s what the flier said. As it turned out, it was more of a private celebration for the richest. Of course, man like Tony Stark was greeted with open arms, and as Peter later realised, that’s precisely why he agreed to come in the first place. They were safe from a public eye here. He knew he should’ve felt relief, but the well hidden disappointment was still there. That’s when it became clear to him — he wanted the world to see, to know that Tony Stark was his and to think about the filthy things they could be caught on doing only turned him even more on.

He survived — somehow — politely answering all the questions, smiling at businessmen, eating his ice cream and following Tony’s path all day. He even called him dad once or twice, only to see Iron Man’s facade falter. The man was too stoic for his liking, his press smile on, his eyes hidden under the expensive glasses. It’s safe to say that these couple of times were the only things that Peter actually enjoyed.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t really as fun as he imagined it would be. Whole event reminded im about the galas they attended regularly, all pretty clothes and boring speeches. It just wasn’t what Peter was looking for.

That’s why the next day, when he found himself pushed to the glass wall of Tony’s office, he didn’t hide his face. Older man asked him if being caught turned him on and he decided it was now or never. He threw his head back, laying it on older’s arm and looked at him with hooded eyes. “So much.” He whispered, only to moan shamelessly when man’s hand massaged him through his pants. Peter wanted more and he hoped that the heavy gaze of his lover meant he understood his tricky signs. If not, he could start considering openly talking about this thing, but god, he didn’t want to. He wasn’t exactly what you’d call shy, but the bedroom stuff still wasn’t something he enjoyed to talk about. After all, he always liked the hands on experience better.

The fact that he was dating genius came in handy. Tony always noticed everything about his surroundings. He was able to tell what was wrong with any household object after short inspection and more often than not was also able to tell what Peter tried to tell him indirectly. That was the case this time too.

Sunday evening they found themselves in some expensive restaurant that older man swore Pepper recommended. They sat in the darkest corner of the place and after couple minutes they decided what they wanted.

Tony greeted waiter with an easy smile, noticing his awestruck gaze. At this moment Peter knew that they were leaving huge tip. Genius always did, but especially when someone so obviously excited to see him, still acted professional and did their best to make them feel comfortable — ordinary, as he heard brunette once say with that longing look.

“The same for my son.” Tony said, not even bothering to hide his wide grin.

Peter decided that two could play a game and soon, he added: “Dad, I’m 19, I can order for myself.” He scolded the man, sending the waiter small smile.

Poor worker, unaware of their little game, just nodded along and left. The next thing he knew, Tony stood up, relocating himself so he sat beside Peter.

“So you’re all grown up now, huh?” Billionaire asked, tracing younger’s spine with his left hand. “We both know you’re just as helpless as the baby, Pete…” He whispered, his breath tasing the skin of teenager’s neck.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, when older found his way to front of his pants. He unbuttoned them regardless of younger’s almost silent protests. The rest of the guests couldn’t possibly see what was going on, but he could bet on the fact that his face was a give away anyway. He was hard, so he couldn’t exactly lie to the man next to him. Beside, it wasn’t like he was enjoying it.

The humiliation became even more apparent when the confused waiter came back. The two were still hidden, but figuring out what they were doing wasn’t really a rocket science. It was a miracle that they weren’t being thrown out on the spot. Peter suspected it had something to do with the fact that they were Avengers and the man currently stroking his dick could probably buy and destroy the whole restaurant without losing any serious money.

“Ah, Peter, darling, let daddy help you with that.” Tony teased and teen could only feel sorry for the, now absolutely red, waiter. He noted to tell his boyfriend to be exceptionally generous with tips today. After all, this, whatever it was, probably wasn’t in the poor guy’s job description. And they did let him think that they were related at first. Peter just hoped they didn’t scare him for the rest of his life with their little incest thing.

“Tony, we’re gonna get caught.” He choked, placing his hand on the genius’s forearm. He didn’t push or tried to maneuver older’s hand out of his well fitted jeans. He just unconsciously held it — probably to gain some balance. Not that he was in any shape to think about that now, when Tony started moving his hand. “Would that really be so bad, though?” Superhero asked, caressing younger’s thigh with his free hand. “Wouldn’t you like them all to know that you belong to me?” He whispered, almost completely covering him from curious eyes. After being teased and held so closely he could very well smell what was undoubtedly Tony’s expensive cologne and the scent that was entirely just him, all Peter could do was whine. He gave in, just like that, allowing himself to finally enjoy this fantasy of his.

Soon, they found themselves sitting in a sports car, Peter with sticky briefs and Tony with a smug smile. If the hard on in genius’s suit pants was anything to go by, this was another thing the superheroes were not going to give up quickly. And if they scandalised more waiters, they always made sure to make it up to them with generous tips.

[angrylizardjacket]

only fools {Dominique Beyrand}

Summary: You’re in love with Roger’s new girlfriend. Is it easier to pretend you don’t have feelings or come clean? You say both, eventually! The truth is bittersweet.

A/N: 4331 words. ANGST!! I don’t know much abt Dominique so this is based 100% on borhap, tho there’s a few bits abt the band from real life, but its borhap based for the most part. i hope you like it!! i’m pretty sure the reader is gender neutral, but there may be 1 or 2 female pronouns accidentally. there’s mentions of cheating.

----

You’ve been friends with Queen for arguably too long, know them now in excruciating and almost intimate detail, and are absolutely immune to their various charms and stardom. It started in university, with you as a popular radio jockey on campus, and living in a flat around the corner from Freddie and Roger’s little market stall in Kensington. 

You know of their band, of course, you’ve always got your ear to the ground for local talent, and you jokingly tell them that if they ever get an album together, you’d be the the first to play it. A year and a half later, they hold you to that. 

When they’re making it big in the mid-70s, and you’ve scored your own show on an actual radio station, they start turning to you when they want to release a single, or give an interview, and people start asking why. You simply shrug and smile, which is easier than explaining that you’d spent a good deal of your second year of uni bothering Freddie and Roger at their stall instead of doing your homework, and somehow that became a friendship, and now you and John have tea every Monday afternoon, and Brian tried to teach you guitar once, but ended up waxing poetic about his thesis when you noted that his desk was rather messy.

So yes, you know them rather well, since the start of the band’s musical career, in fact, and have witness, and occasional party to, some of their dumber, post-gig antics, which has given you both regrets, and immunity to their antics. Never again will you be Roger’s look out when he climbs to a third story balcony for a girl - he lost a shoe on the second floor and it hit you in the back of the head. Prick. 

Which makes it rather unfortunate that you’ve taken such a liking to his latest girlfriend. At first you tell yourself that it’s simple and platonic appreciation for another individual with a head on their shoulders, that you liked her in the same way that you like John or Brian when they were being sensible. When you go out with the band, which isn’t a lot these days, but still it’s enough, she seems to make a point of including you, of smiling at you like a friend though you barely know each other. 

Always, she is by Roger’s side, and you think this is the first time you’ve seen him properly smitten, which makes it ache, in such a strange way, when she smiles back at him. You’ve never felt like this over Chrissie, or Veronica, or Mary. But you push it down, and when they invite you to go to their concerts, you find yourself in the wings by her side, and you dance with her at the afterparties when she offers her hand, and she invites you to lunch to catch up every few weeks.

It’s perfectly harmless, you tell yourself as you actively repress the strange sort of desire she unknowingly elicits from you. 

There’s something about her, beyond a pretty face, and a vicious smile, more than her sharp wit and dangerously intoxicating perfume, like she could ask you to walk over hot coals and you’d crawl to make her happy.

When she laughs over lunch, like actually laughs, full-bellied, head thrown back, glowing in the afternoon sunshine at something you’d said, you suddenly remember every stupid and horny antic Roger has ever been party to, often at the expense of whatever girl he was meant to be seeing at the time, and you want to tell Dominique to run fast and far, to try and protect her. But Roger’s told you he’s changed, that he’s in love, and you grit your teeth.

You’re kind of fucked.

And there’s no-one in your life who you can talk to without being judged for feeling like this. 

So you take what you can get. 

You go out with the band when they invite you, you catch up with Dom often when they go on tour, and you realise, with a strange and painful clarity, that she’s become your best friend.

“How come you’ll agree to help Dom with shenanigans, but not me?” Roger plays at being jealous of your not-so-secret favoritism, his arm around Dominique in a hotel bar that had been closed for a private, Queen function, currently buzzing with the band members, their various significant others, members of the press, members of their tour group, and management team. And you. 

You and Dominique share an amused, almost conspiratorial look. 

“Because I actually like her,” you tell Roger, flatly, and he raises is eyebrows when you look back at him. You don’t miss Dominique’s pleased little smile that she hides in her glass.

“That’s just about the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he shakes his head, clearly not actually taking your words to heart, but you huff a laugh.

“And her shenanigans never landed me in the emergency room -”

“Hey, I was the one with the sprained ankle -”

“You acted like you were dying, Rog,” you sighed deeply, “you tried to bribe me to run a red light,” and Dominique gives her boyfriend a surprised, vaguely judgmental look as Roger quickly turned pink.

“I was in grave pain.”

“Darling, you are a grave pain,” Dominique told him sweetly, and Roger pressed his hand to his chest, scandalised. 

“Et tu, my love?” 

But Dominique’s looking at him all fond and sappy when she tells him that you’ve got a point; you excuse yourself right as Roger lowers his voice and reminds her that there’s times she seems to think he’s pretty great, voice laced with heavy innuendo. 

You’re discussing the band’s latest album with their sound tech when Dominique finds you again, looking recently debauched, lips all kiss-bruised despite her fresh coat of lipstick. You quietly and desperately wish you would have been the cause of her unkempt state, the sight alone making you want to do unseemly things to her. 

“Sorry about that, Roger had a point to prove,” she says lightly, as if nothing had happened, and she snakes her arm through yours as she joins the conversation.

“Did he prove it?” You asked flatly, if only to play along for her benefit. Her cheeks flushed for a moment as she cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder.

“Twice,” she had to try and hide her grin from the scandalized sound tech. When you followed her gaze, your eyes met Roger’s; he’s so damn smug. You felt like you were going to put your fist through a wall.

The next time you caught up with Dom, however, a few days later, she apologises again, looking guilty for reasons you can’t quite understand.

“Why are you apologising? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured her, gently putting your hands on hers over the table; when she meets your gaze over the table, she blinks quickly, processing the information. 

“I just felt like I should,” even she doesn’t know why she’s apologising again, “it wasn’t... it was inappropriate.” She finally settles on, and you give a fond, if longsuffering smile.

“When’s Roger ever appropriate at a party?”

“I suppose,” she still looks unsure, however, but the waiter comes over and the ordeal is forgotten. 

Except that it’s not. There’s something new in the way she looks at you, almost hesitant, faintly apologetic, and even a little confused. It’s not something you’re used to, Dominique’s always been endlessly confident and forthright, she’s never been cautious in the history of your friendship.

“I’m worried you think less of me,” she says, blunt as always, when you finally ask what’s wrong.

“Dom, nothing you could do would ever make me think less of you,” you tell her with probably too much honesty. After a moment spent mulling your words over, she moves closer on your plush little sofa, until her leg pressed flush against yours.

“I care about you a great deal,” she tells you, with her own sudden burst of honesty, “and it’s been rough with Roger on tour; I don’t think I could have gotten through it half as well without you,” and she’s looking at you, almost nothing in her expression, like she’s gauging your reaction to let her know how to feel about all of this. 

You’re absolutely terrified she can read every feeling and emotion as it passes through you at her words, and the I want to kiss you to make you shut up about your stupid boyfriend that’s flashing like a neon sign at the front of your brain. 

“I care about you too,” is what you manage after a beat of panicked hesitation, trying not to act as flustered as you feel. Her smile is warm and confident, however, and she thanks you gently, turning back to the TV that had become white noise in your ears. You spend a good few moments more just watching her, wondering what that was all about, before she leans against you, and you just kind of have to accept it.

But there’s something different now, a new energy between you both when you spend time together; she’s more tactile, more prone to staying with you at events, more likely to pick you, you realise.

“Are you trying to steal my girlfriend?” Roger once jokes, and you try not to let your panic show.

“If I was, you’d deserve it,” you laugh, but his expression scrunches up, reading the insult and implications in your words. You get the feeling Roger doesn’t much like you anymore.

But Dominique’s skin is always warm against yours, her hand in yours when strolling about the city, and you get lost in her perfume and her laughter, and some nights she comes over while Roger’s away, and you get tipsy together while watching TV or listening to music, and she’ll curl into your touch and whisper you’re too good to me like it’s a guilty secret the rest of the world can’t hear. She sleeps on your sofa rather than going home to the luxurious, empty bed she shares with Roger, and in the morning you wake to her humming and making breakfast. 

There’s something so domestic about it, and she’ll smile at you, sipping tea in the kitchen, and your heart will melt. 

You want to be allowed to love her, but Roger will always come home. 

Once, twice, a slow song will play on the radio, and she’ll ask you to dance, wrapping herself up in you as you sway in your living room, both of you drunk on a Sunday evening, her breathing slow and even, her eyes closed, and you wonder what she’s picturing. Maybe her boyfriend. Fiancé. Fuck.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes her hands holding your face to register that you’d both stopped moving. Her smile is soft, eyes warm.

“You’d look beautiful in a ball gown,” she says with quiet adoration, and before you can process that that was what she was thinking, your body’s moved of it’s own accord, and you’re kissing her. 

And she’s kissing you back, tasting like wine and fruit, lips soft and gentle, fitting against yours perfectly. She sighs softly against your lips, hands coming to fist in the collar of your shirt as she pulls you closer and I love you tumbles involuntarily from your lips. She pauses.

“I know,” her voice is gently apologetic, barely more than a whisper, “I’m sorry.” You can see she wants to say more, wants to kiss you again, like she wants to live in this moment before it had suddenly turned sour. Her I love you too goes unspoken, but she cups your face in her hands again, thumbs running across your cheeks, across the sudden, faint shock and sorrow written in your expression. She doesn’t step back, she doesn’t even try. 

“I should go.”

“Do you want to go?” You ask, voice soft, the words barely registering to your own ears. There’s a long moment of silence as she considers, weighs her options, hesitates before kissing you again. It hurts, it’s a uniquely masochistic form of torture you’re putting yourself through, but she stays, and the next day you both act like nothing happened.

She’ll make breakfast, smile at you over tea, and in a few months, she’ll marry Roger. 

You’re not invited to the wedding, and part of you is grateful. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me not to go through with it?” She half jokes over coffee a few days before, which shocks you.

“Why?” You’re concerned rather than amused, and she looks a little guilty when she meets your gaze.

“I- do you... still have feelings for me?” She asks, uncertain, and you sigh deeply, sitting back in your chair.

“Do you love Roger, Dom?”

“Of course,” she answers immediately, a little defensive, which seems strange given the situation, but she thaws and takes a long sip of her drink, “I do, I really do.” She admits, sounding almost disappointed in herself.

“Then it doesn’t matter what I feel; do what makes you happy.” You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’d lost to Roger a long time ago; brief affair aside, you don’t want to make Dominique question her world so close to her happy ending. 

So you pointedly don’t ask how she feels about you.

According to the photos in the tabloid, it’s a beautiful wedding, and Dominique and Roger make a picture perfect couple. You spend three days in your house, wrapped in a blanket in front of your TV; you don’t take the phone off the hook in case work calls, but Dom’s on her honeymoon, so you’re not expecting to get any calls from her. 

There’s a full month of radio silence while she’s being whisked off to somewhere romantic, and it’s the longest the two of you have gone without talking since you’d met. The minute she gets back, however, she calls and asks you to lunch, but hesitates, adding that if you didn’t want to -

“Of course I want to!” You’re delighted to hear from her, and only realise once you hang up how much it’s going to hurt. 

Her wedding ring catches the light and you want to immediately flee to the Scottish highlands and become a goat farmer and never talk to another living person again at the sight of it. You smile, and hug her in greeting.

You talk about work, both yours and hers, and about how Freddie’s buying a mansion in London, and how cute John’s kids are, and about everything but the very recent wedding she’d gone through, or the husband she now has.

This time, when you take her hand to traverse the city together, you feel the cold metal of her wedding ring, and something inside you dies, just a little. It’s like she can tell, however, because she immediately skirts around you to take your other hand, tucking you close. And you let her. Every time, you let her. 

Nothing happens between you both, nothing like before, but she still comes over when Roger’s on tour, still sleeps on your sofa, still spends time with you around her busy work schedule, and it hurts to see her hurting, when she gets tired and lets slip about the rumours she’s heard. Apart from one night, she’s practically been a saint to the drummer; his record, however does not appear to be so clean. But she puts on a brave face, and he always comes home.

Freddie throws a party in the early eighties, dressed in a crown and cape, he’s invited everyone remotely outlandish in London, so it seems, and of course his band, and you. You find them all on a cluster of gilded sofas, looking already worn out by the whole affair, despite everyone partying around them. But Dominique brightens when she sees you, and pulls you in to the conversation. Roger, already in a mood, does not even look at you as the rest of the band greets you warmly where you’ve perched on the arm of the sofa by Dominique, her free hand coming up to rest on your thigh. 

They’re teasing Roger about his car song again, which you refrain from, not that you don’t love teasing him about that ridiculous song, but you’re also pretty sure that if you speak to him, he’ll throw his drink at you. 

But Freddie joins them, too exuberant by half for the muted mood of the band amidst the partygoers, and Roger’s ready to leave when Freddie makes a comment that turns your blood to ice.

“Loyalty’s so important, don’t you think Dominique?” 

The world around you fades away to her reaction. No-one’s looking at you, they’re all looking to Roger, because it’s an implicit confirmation of the hoards of rumours Dominique’s been trying to live in denial regarding. 

“Watch it,” Roger warns his bandmate, and Dominique looks pissed, but for the barest moment, she casts her gaze over her shoulder, to you, and you can read the heartbreak in her eyes. 

You wish you’d told her to run years ago after all. 

You wish you’d never believed that Roger had changed.

You wish you’d told her not to go through with the wedding.

You wish a lot of things in that moment. 

But there’s no time, and she’s gone with Roger, both of them furious for different reasons, while your heart lays beating in the seat she’d just left. Looking around, your head is full of a fog in the wake of Freddie’s words, and their departure, and it’s like no-one else can see that your whole world has gone to Hell.

“I need to stay with you,” Dominique calls you the next day, sniffling, and you’re agreeing readily, asking if she needs a lift over. 

She brings a suitcase, and a tearful apology for barging in like this. You wrap her up in a hug, telling her not to worry, that it’s not a bother and she bursts into tears. You order food and wrap her up in a blanket, and stay by her side until she falls asleep against your shoulder. You carry her into bed, tuck her in, and then grab your jacket and go out.

“I should kick your ass,” you snarl after Roger finally lets you in where you’d been kicking at his front door. He looks disheveled, but not like he’d been sleeping, like he’d been crying.

“Are you here for the rest of her things?” He asks flatly, and you do actually shove him, hard enough that he hits the ground and slides against the tiles.

“You stupid, insensitive fucking asshole!” You yell, fuming, “get up, Roger, get up!” You demand, and he does, slowly.

“I’m not going to fight you; you won, okay? She hates me -”

“And she has every right to, don’t play the fucking victim here, don’t try and act like you weren’t the one to sleep your way across the world while you knew she was waiting for you!” Your lip trembled at the thought of all the late nights you’d spent comforting her, reassuring her that it was just the tabloids taking things out of context, “she loved you so fucking much, you stupid fucking slut!” He laughed humorlessly at that, sitting back down on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest.

“We haven’t loved each other for a long time now.”

“That’s not true.”

“She loves you.” 

“That’s not true.” There’s a wobble to your voice, your fraught emotions turning quickly to desperation. 

“I know you slept together,” he says, finally looking at you, and your mouth snaps shut. He doesn’t seem mad, he doesn’t seem... anything. It’s just a fact, no malice behind it. “She told me the day after it happened,” he paused, “and I told her it was okay, told her I did similar stuff in my youth, but if we loved each other, we’d have to be better people, for each other.”

“And she loved you,” you said with dawning despair, realising what he was implying. He nods, gaze drifting, as if not quite registering everything that was happening, “but you...”

“By my own logic, I was already falling out of love; I was a hypocrite. I am a hypocrite.”

“You’re self aware,” you said, sitting down as the fight left you.

“Not really, she yelled it a good deal at me yesterday. She’s right, though.” He takes a deep breath, resting his chin on his knees as he stares at the other wall. “We used to be friends,” he muses and you hum in response, “we used to be a lot of things; young, broke, nobodies, friends.” He lists, and you agree quietly, “I think I knew you would be better for her, even from the start.”

“You knew I loved her from the start?” You ask, not even trying to deny it, and Roger looks at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not blind,” he tells you with surprising bitterness, and you clam up at that, “but she loves you because you’re still here, even though she loved me too.”

“Because I’m an idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“Probably,” he agrees, and when you make an indignant noise, he gives a flat look, “you didn’t talk her out of marrying me even though you’re in love with her.” He reminds.

“I never want to be the cause of her unhappiness,” you explain softly, mirroring his sitting position, your chin on your knees. Roger nods, “but you hurt her, and I came here to kick your ass.”

“Will you love her like she deserves?” He asks softly.

“If she wants to come back to you, I won’t stop her.”

“You love her better than I ever could,” Roger says with realisation. You’re not going to disagree with him.

When you get home, she’s still asleep in your bed, and you curl up on the sofa, restless all through the night. Dominique wakes in the morning, and comes out, sees your eyes open, rough from sleeplessness, and tears well in her own as all the memories from yesterday come flooding back. 

“Do you want breakfast?” You ask, voice rough, and she nods. You stand, and head to the kitchen, moving automatically around the little space. She watches, quiet eyes, unsmiling, contemplative, but she’s not crying. 

“What do you want to do today?” You hear yourself asking, voice carefully neutral. 

“Do you... do you still love me?”

You freeze. It takes a moment, but you finally look at her, expression blank. 

“I don’t think this is the time-”

“You’re always telling me to do what makes me happy, asking me what I want, what do you want?”

“I want you to be happy,” you tell her softly; her eyes are getting misty, but she’s still not satisfied with that answer.

“I want you to think about yourself for once; what do you want?”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you try to organise your thoughts. 

“I want to be able to tell you I love you, and not have you hesitate to say it back -” you admit, but she cuts you off, words quick.

“I love you.”

“I -”

“I love you.”

“Dominique -”

“I love you, and I have for years. I love you.”

“Then why did you marry Roger?!” You finally explode, and her eyes go wide, before he gaze drops to the counter with shame.

“Because I thought it was what I was meant to do; I cared about him a great deal, but we- we weren’t meant for each other. I don’t love him like I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.”

“I don’t want you to be saying this just because you just broke up with him and you’re looking for a rebound or a safety net,” you admit, and she looks at you with a calculating gaze, understanding your hesitation, “I do love you, Dom, and you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but I don’t want to be with you until you’ve had time to process everything that’s happening. You need time. You’re not in your right mind.”

Dominique swallows hard, nodding very seriously. Her gaze is intense as she watches you get back to making breakfast. Silence hangs in the air, strange, undefinable silence laced with emotions like static electricity. 

“Can I kiss you? Just once?” She asks, and you look at her over your shoulder, spatula in one hand, a warning in your voice when you say her name, “just once.” She promises, eyes wide and the barest of smiles on her lips. You could never say no to that smile. You turn down the stove for just a moment, and step up to the counter, leaning over it to meet her. 

Kissing her feels like coming home and freedom at the same time, and she’s warm when she brings her hand up to your cheek, humming with tentative joy against your lips. When you pull back, you let yourself linger, just inches from her, getting lost in her eyes, in her smile for the barest moment.

“Would you like me to make tea?” She asks, soft, grinning.

“Would love that,” you agree, a little breathless, stepping back to the stove. 

“I don’t...” she paused by the refrigerator, “I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to make sense of this, my whole life, I...”

“That’s why we’re waiting; if I’m not what you want, if you go a different direction, if you just wanna be single for a few years and end up meeting someone else, I’ll respect that,” you assure her, “but if I am what you want, Dom I’d wait forever for you.”

[travellingmonk]

PART 1 - An Image That Predicts The Future 3 by Sunao Ari - Translated!!!

Now, to explain this a bit, I don't normally go out of my way for a doujinshi. (pain in the arse for me to translate with conversational Japanese and I am, by far, NOT an expert in the language.) However, this one I just HAD to know the story of and share. Because reasons. Fair warning, this is a Seiji x Touma story... where Seiji dies... and Touma takes it EXTREMELY BADLY... then dies, too. And the art style is consistent... but... eh... It's not comparable to Ken Mizuki or Lapis Homme art style. (to be honest, took me 3 times flipping through this, and the third time actually paying attention to the story being told, not the art style, before I picked up on the very emotional story that was unfolding. -_-U) So... yeah, if that upsets you, keep on scrollin' and pay no mind to this post.

If you're curious, then keep reading.

Now, to give you a VERY short version of these 3 pages, it’s a summary of what happened in the past 2 books (lordy only knows where a copy of them could be since this was released back in the early 1990′s).

Short version summary : Touma’s got a disease that’s landed his butt in the hospital. At first he lies and tells everyone he’s fine, but gets worse, thinks he’s gonna die, then goes all ‘Seiji! I love you!’ to which the blonde Trooper goes ‘I love you, too <3′. By the time Touma is well enough to leave the hospital, he catches sight of his boy on TV, severely injured, trying to whoop some Youja bad guy butt. Only to end up getting himself rushed into the hospital. Which ends up with the truth coming out that Seiji’s got cancer, has a month left to live, and life sucks. They decide to get married asap, with Touma giving Seiji a wedding ring.

Not long after, a new round of attacks from the Youja World (and Arago’s army) is unleashed on the city. Seiji knows he needs to be out there to help fight back and to form the Kikoutei armor, but he’s too weak and can barely move.

He prays / begs to Kaosu for help, saying he’d give his life if it means he can help stop this. Lo and behold, POOF! Seiji is magically made better, the Youja gate the baddies came through gets sealed up, all the bad guys are dealt with, and Seiji says goodbye as he walks into the magical sphere that will seal all of that evil away. Touma doesn’t take this well, AT ALL. He tries to stop Seiji, Shin attempting to hold Touma back, and, just like that, Seiji, the Youja bad guys, and the Youja gate are all gone.

Current book starts off by jumping well over a decade into the future with Shin, all grown up, with his now 8 year old daughter.

It’s a weird way to start this book, but we go from Shin and his daughter in the future, to back in the past after Seiji’s death.

Touma is not taking his friend’s / husband’s death well AT ALL. To the point he’s having violent nightmares, wakes up still being stressed / freaked out, and to where Nasutei has to use sedatives on him to make him calm down to any degree. Even then, he’s still in denial, and the others have to lie to him, saying that Seiji is out but that he’ll be back soon.

An exhausted Nasutei commenting (after he’s fallen back to sleep) commenting about why can’t he just accept Seiji’s death like everyone else has? Having Touma go through this is torture on all of them. Time flows ever onward and the warm weather turns cold. Touma gets past the worst of it, more or less, but is depressed and suicidal. To the point he locks his bedroom door, slits his wrists, and tries to bleed out. The others rescue him, get him to the hospital, to which, afterwords, comes back to Nasutei’s house where EVERYONE keeps an eye on him and makes sure anything sharp is locked away.

This stresses out everyone, and gets Shin, who’s been the most patient and compassionate of the bunch, to snap. Saying that Seiji wouldn’t have wanted his friend to behave this way, and that there’s no guarantee that if Touma WOULD die, that they’d end up meeting in the afterlife.

Things really aren’t made any easier when Kayura comes to visit and has news. Sure Seiji’s sacrifice was a noble one and did seal up that one location so no other evils, gates, or soldiers could return, but it’s messed up stuff to the point where any wickedness happens, a gate will appear and, well, we all know that the Earth isn’t the most peaceful place in the universe.

Touma gets upset, to the point he grabs her by the neck and slams her down onto the dining room table. Despite her best efforts, she’s unable to open the seal at all and reclaim Seiji’s body. At least if they had his body they could have a funeral and say a proper ‘farewell’. Eventually he releases her, then gets super depressed. One day while out on the the terrace with Ryou, a tree branch breaks and wallops Touma upside the head, giving him a nasty bleeding cut.

As his friends tend to the injury and stop the bleeding, Shin gives the blue haired Trooper a letter. After everything, Shin had claimed the bag of Seiji’s clothing and belongings from when he was in the hospital and, among the things is a letter addressed to Touma.

In the letter is a lock of Seiji’s hair and the letter basically reads ‘By the time you read this, I’ll be dead. Don’t be sad. Are you lonely? Are you alone? Go out and live your life. You still have one to live. Make me proud.’

That seems to be what it takes to snap Touma out of his mood and turns his whole world around. The next morning finds the Trooper of Tenku coming downstairs to breakfast wearing clean clothes, with the lock of hair tied to a necklace, and stating that he’ll be leaving the house soon. He’s decided to aim to become a doctor and to find a cure to the cancer that took Seiji’s life. (Line of logic here would probably be more like ‘if he hadn’t had that cancer, he wouldn’t have gotten so severely injured, and wouldn’t have had to sacrifice his life to safe the city. Hence, is all cancer’s fault that this happened’.)

Chapter 3 picks up in the future (or would this be considered the present?) with Doctor Hashiba getting called into surgery to save someone’s life.

The surgery went well. He gets praised. Then his mother decides to swing by for a visit. Half because she just won a Pulitzer Prize and wants to celebrate, and two, because she’s now got some time off from work to do so.

The only thing is, she’s got bad timing. This is Touma and Seiji’s wedding anniversary, and the anniversary / observance of when he died.

They have a bit of an arguement. She saying ‘I don’t want you to be alone’ and he saying ‘I’m not alone. I can’t love anyone else. Seiji was the only one in the world for me’. The conversation dies out when Shin arrives for a chat and Touma’s mother leaves. (And, yes, that IS Shin with the really long hair. I honestly think that Sunao Ari was channeling Shin’s early design from when the characters were still in developtment. Not even kidding, here.)

Anywho, onwards with the story~

Touma and Shin get to chatting. Shin’s here because, thanks to Touma, his daughter is cured of the same kind of cancer Seiji had. Today is the day she’s being released from the hospital and can go home. Touma asks if they’d seen Seiji’s inspirational statue out in front of the hospital. Shin has but his daughter hasn’t. She goes out to look? He sends her out to look? Not really clear on that, BUT, either way, she’s outside meandering about while the two men talk. The conversation is basically ‘everything changes, but it sure seems like Seiji / the memory of Seiji has never changed’. Touma makes an offhanded comment about his own disease and says that he knows / he has a feeling that he’s going to die soon.

Suddenly there’s noise from outside and, come to find out, Shin’s daughter (4 years old at this time) is out in the middle of the road. The two men race outside, with Touma being faster, and shoves her out of the way of danger.

Unfortunately, this lands Touma smack dab in the middle of traffic instead. And, well...

The headlights of a truck? ambulance? are all too familiar to the light that Seiji walked into all thos years ago. Just like that BAM!!!!

Shin rushes to his friend’s side and, understandably so, freaking out. (Pretty sure the pictures speak for themselves here. Also, TOUMA! NUUUU!!! I may be a loyal Ryou fangirl at heart but, TOUMA! NUUUUU!!!)

As Touma is dying in Shin’s arms, Seiji in angel form appears. Touma manages to whisper out the name of his beloved significant other before completely giving into death.

Is super sad. (DANG IT, SUNAO ARI! WHY MUST YOU HURT ME SO!? GWAAAHHH SUCH A SAD STORY!!!!!)

The story picks up later at Touma’s funeral. 

Despite the super sad atmosphere and Shin blaming himself for his friend’s death (’it’s my fault. I killed him.’ Shin, sweetie, no you didn’t. Your daughter wandered into traffic and Touma died saving her life. You didn’t do a thing! ~*sad hugs*~ ) Touma’s dead body had a gentle smile on its face. At least he died happy.

Around his neck is the same lock of Seiji’s hair from the letter so many years ago.

(Shut up, dun look at me! I’m not crying! You’re crying! Bwaaa~ :,( )

The story ends with Shin noticing the fact that it’s beginning to snow. In October. Too early.

He wonders if the snow is a sign that Touma and Seiji are now happy together, or sad.

Sunao Ari, I know it’s been decades since you made this story, probably the first time someone NOT Japanese has been able to read it, but I hope that where ever life finds you, that you’re doing well, are enjoying good health, and are no longer torturing Seiji and Touma. (not sure mah lil ol’ fangirl heart could take another book like this one from you! ^_^U) Well, that’s it. Hope you enjoyed the story and the fact that it was translated for your .... it’s not right to say ‘enjoyment’ here, is it? for your reading pleasure? ... still doesn’t sound right. ~*offers you soft tissues and a warm blanket after that story*~ excuse me whilst i go hunt down some cute pictures of fluffy kittens to console mahself with.

[ignaeflos-blog]

Why would isayama need to include black people?

ok, prepare yourselves -.-

i’m gonna try and be nice, alright? you could just as easily say why did he choose to make Mikasa half-Japanese? Why bother including her full Japanese mother then *spoilers* creating a whole East Sea clan ?? Just a little something called-

                                        *✧･ﾟ:* IDENTIFICATION*✧･ﾟ:* 

Did you know Isayama never planned to make Mikasa half-Japanese? She was going to be fully Caucasian/west European-it literally just struck him one day (app. he saw some model/customer in a coffe shop or suttin) but I am 100% sure that wasn’t the only reason ; Isayama is Japanese. The manga is in Japanese. He is in japan.

Now I wouldn’t have batted and eyelid if the cast was all-Japanese ; like okay, it’s exclusively for a Japanese audience but the fact that Mikasa is the only one naturally stuck out to me-everyone else is white, ok cool, cool again this is something I’m used to in the anime industry-but then we’re told these are the last remaining humans on earth & i’m sorry but anyone would be like whoa hold up-no people of colour survived?? and it isn’t only until way down in the manga that we learn *spoilers* that no that isn’t the case-errbody’s chillin except for the poor eldians (ch 98 woop) so technically he DID include black people, like in one panel :)

NOW lemme backtrack real quick here-so we have this badass, beautiful female character who happens to be the only remaining member of the Asian bloodline within the walls-how bloody amazing must that have been for the Japanese audience, do you think?? It’s nice-hella gratifying, no? Ok now apply that concept here-how fucking lit would it have been to have a person of colour as part of the main cast? Listen, all it took for me to start squealing was a less than half a page panel of vaguely brown people in ch98, ok? I . was . on . the . floor . THAT even in it’s weakest and most diluted form is called Self-identification, mon ami.

What I’m on about is this: Isayama almost without a doubt decided to include Mikasa as Mikasa in order to better engage the Japanese audience which leads to the question-is that it? Did he not care to appeal to or engage any other group besides white & japanese people across the world? -honestly I don’t believe he was thinking that far ahead-he probably never thought snk would become what it is today BUT & here’s the big but-the rest of the cast says a lot about, not necessarily his current, but certainly previous mindset (again this is recurrent in the anime industry so i’m not really blaming him).

Having everyone else being exclusively white European, the amount of research & thought he poured into Norse mythology and German nomenclature-that was effort & required serious thinking outside the box. Did he not feel the need to do so for any other group-was it too complicated, too distracting or did he not have the time?? Who knows? And what’s more-idk maybe this is just me & I don’t know how much attention you’ve been paying to imagery/motifs, but I kept on stumbling on some very afro-centred symbols the largest & most obvious being the Marley continent-Africa, really? YES I KNOW it isn’t meant to actually be the African continent but still-to use such a huge, hella representative icon in a manga where there are no black people in active roles? Frankly it’s just odd, probably not of any significance to a non-black person, but anyone with roots in Africa would wonder-I honestly believed ‘shit is Isa gonna finally intro some black characters’ lol. Then there’s the whole ‘tree of life’ imagery and here one could arguably say that’s why Isa chose to centralise the manga around a more European/ Nordic culture WELL, here’s some news for you- The concept of the ‘tree of Life’ is rampant, absolutely rampant, in Africa and appears in so many cultures across the continent-he didn’t know? Didn’t bother? It’s a shame really because he missed the opportunity to combine two very different cultures with a central common theme which, tbh would’ve been bloody amazing in terms of the plot.

Maybe because it was just easier-I mean it’s just another all white cast except this time they’re actually tied to “Europe”/ a European-like setting. And ngl I kept on trying to gloss it over in my head: ‘it’s fine/its the standard/get used to it/ this is how the manga/anime industry is/get over yourself/it’s normal BUT IT ISN’T-bc that’s NOT  how things are-there are poc on every civilised/man-occupied land on this earth & there are A LOT- they are the majority.

& NO japan is not oblivious of people of colour-the non-Japanese population is growing everyday-THEY KNOW VERY WELL who black people are (given the, lets just say, less than favourable representations of them in anime/media). Not as welcome as their non-poc counterparts, hmm? Japan has been conditioned (look at anime/manga character design in general fgs) to accept and internalise European aesthetics so an almost all white cast is just easier-easier to introduce, easier to implement-black character (like actually black NOT ‘dark-skin Japanese/greek/Spanish etc)? why tho? Why go through all that hassle?

Why not.

because these are people-and it’s so sick & twisted that we’re still letting things like skin colour, the amount of a certain pigment in our bodies determine how we live and think. You asked why do black people need to be in snk and i’m gonna rebut real damn hard (sorry not sorry)-WHY NOT? Yh maybe they’re not that tantamount to the storyline or plot but neither is Mikasa’s being half-japanese-Isayama could have, would have just created another Caucasian bloodline like the Ackermans. No matter how you look at it-it’s hard to refute the fact that he wanted Japanese readers/viewers to gain some form of affirmation.

And honestly (I shit you not) I could write a book but I’ll leave you with this: there was a post I came across when I first joined tumblr in the summer-it was a photoset of an artist who had done some snk fanart for a younger female relative of theirs: https://desertbl00m.tumblr.com/post/162481882946/vibraniumbabe-i-did-this-drawing-as-a-surprise

Look at her face-look how happy and overwhelmed she is-why does he need to indeed?

[grass-skirt]

OKAY! So last night I marathoned Yuri on Ice with @mabelshesbornwithit (accompanied by grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup--very cozy), so here’s my obligatory review post. 

This was a show that I wasn’t that interested in watching myself. I had a positive opinion of it and was glad that it was apparently doing what it could to depict a healthy and loving romance between Yuri and Victor, but I wasn’t sure that the sports part of it would hold my interest very much. I was wrong about that, since even though I know nothing about professional figure skating, it was fun to see all the different routines and suspenseful to watch them compete and stress over whether or not the people I liked would screw up or not. 

I was also surprised at how much of the cast was super likable. Even though he was a pretty minor character, my fav for the show might just be Minami 

He was so fucking cute and enthusiastic and I loved how much he admired and supported Yuri. I also really liked his jazzy routine and his lil fang. Everything about him was so adorable and pure. Bless. 

The Yuris, Victor, Phichit! (bless Phichit too, he’s so wonderful), Otabek, god, and JJ too I all liked. JJ is absolutely the one who surprised me the most. All I really knew about him from what I’d seen around tumblr is that apparently he was a jerk and then majorly screwed up his routine and then everyone loved him. But he turned out to not be as much of a jerk as I thought he’d be--he was still a jerk but like, in a kind of fun way that was good for a few laughs. He’s so fucking full of himself, but he also conveyed that he also really cares about his family, girlfriend, and all his fans. Seeing him screw up so hard but still try his best and still retain his belief in himself because of all the people supporting him made for really good character development. Tho it’s too bad that the whole JJ style thing was lame and that both his performance outfits were ugly. RIP JJ.

The only two characters who were... “stop that--stop that this instant,” were Michele, the guy who was creepily obsessed with his sister, and Georgi, the guy who was scary obsessed with his ex. At least Michele realized he need to knock it off and change, though he was still having a hard time actually putting that into practice afterwards. Hopefully he’ll get there eventually. 

As for the relationship between Yuri and Victor... it’s a complicated subject. It’s complicated because of the unfortunate realities that surround the show’s existence and creation. These cultural forces both dictated what was possible to include in the show, and influence how parts of their relationship are perceived by viewers. And you can’t talk about their romance in the show without also talking about the constraints that the content of the show was under. For starters, Yuri and Victor’s relationship was absolutely romantic. The single best moment for this for me was the scene in Barcelona before the final competition where they bought each other matching gold rings and put them on each others’ fingers on the steps of a cathedral while a choir sang around them. 

This moment was super lovely, but it was kind of a double edged sword that Phichit shouted about them being married afterwards. On the one hand it was fantastic that Phichit was so happy for them, but at the same time it was also funny. And it being funny is both good and bad at the same time. It’s a problem because it’s funny for being a “misunderstanding”--oh, they’re not actually married. The fun somewhat takes some of the seriousness out of the situation. It allows viewers to choose to not view Yuri and Victor exchanging their rings as a symbol of their romantic love for each other, and instead view it as the setup for a joke. (Of course viewers who do that are shitty and are never going to respect Victor and Yuri’s romantic relationship, but it makes their doing so a little easier) 

On a related note, Dani mentioned that they felt that the frequent fanservice at the start of the show, like Victor showing up naked in the bath, probably didn’t set a very good tone for their relationship. It’s not a SUPER big thing, but all the non-serious casual nudity that was going on early on is the kind of thing that makes it easier to view their relationship as existing for the purpose of fanservice. It makes it easier for anime fans to mentally classify the show as a yaoi/BL/shounen ai--related genres that overwhelmingly exist not to provide positive representation by and for gay and bi boys and men, but rather to pander to the fantasies of girls and women. 

This is part of why the realities that surround the show’s existence complicate the content of the show so much. Ideally, I shouldn’t need to care in the slightest that Phichit excitedly announced that his friend got married to another guy, but I do care because Yuri had to deny it and it made me feel a little bit bad at the same time I was laughing myself. It was depressing to talk about their relationship after we finished the show because I checked, and same sex marriage is only legal in 21 countries around the entire world right now. 21 out of 196 countries. And you know what? It is illegal for men to have a sexual relationship in 74 countries. It is so depressing to read fancomics in which Victor and Yuri talk about getting married because they can’t actually do that in both Japan and Russia. Hell, if Victor and Yuri even kissed in public in Russia they could be arrested for it. 

Anyway, as depressing as the realities of our current world are, that’s all the more reason why it’s good to have shows like Yuri on Ice showing a relationship like the one between Yuri and Victor. Yeah, it sucks that they didn’t (or rather, most likely couldn’t) show a clear, unobstructed kiss between them. But the show absolutely tried its best to represent the relationship between Victor and Yuri as one overflowing with romantic love. The fact that they couldn’t be more explicit isn’t so much a fault of the show as it is the fault of the culture in which the show was created, where love between boys is viewed as something illicit and sinful for straight girls to indulge in through fantasy, rather than something real and valid that deserves respect and acceptance. So with that in mind, not only should people temper any criticisms they have for the show for not going “far enough” with Victor and Yuri’s relationship, we can also only hope that there are more shows and stories like Yuri on Ice in the future in Japan, where healthy and loving relationships between men are depicted outside of the problematic yaoi/BL/ shounen ai genres in order to help further the acceptance of these kind of relationships in the real world. 

Still, the fact that the show neglected to acknowledge any of the real world discrimination that gay individuals face is a pretty big shortcoming. The show missed a chance to educate people in Japan and elsewhere in the world about homophobia and the discrimination it produces, and it’s valid for viewers to wish the show had done that and feel it glossed over the reality of the difficulties they face in life. (Which is a subject that an anon reminded me to address, which I wrote about in more depth over here.) 

Overall I enjoyed the show and I’m glad it was made. It wasn’t without flaws, but on the whole it was good and I hope they get a second season in which they might just be able to advance Yuri and Victor’s relationship without needing to veil it as much behind the metaphor of a coach/student relationship (and more Minami pls). 

Oh, and one last thing--I loved how all these skaters were such social media hoes. It was great 

[somedaypast-thesunset]

I tell him in plain language I haven't eaten and have no money for food. He offers to loan me money and that I can come over. But it's -2 and all my cold weather wear is garbage from the 5 min I spent just going to the store. He says he has to charge his phone. I'm like OK but u can also do it on your laptop. "yeah but then I'd have to find my wallet". I gave a huge exaggerated laugh because who the fuck responds to someone asking to eat like 5hat? He thinks my reply is weird. I tell him I assume he's joking so I'm laughing otherwise I'm just depressed. He replies, "do you need money now?"

SO GCDFHJFFDXDJKCFYBVXSSJKCF

DO I NEED TO EAT TODAY? DO I? GYESS NOT BECAYSE I WOYLDNT WANT TO BORHER YOU TO FIND YOUR FUCKING WALLET.

the only mature non combative response I had was no response because I'm not even dignifying such a stupid fucking question with a response. Fuck you man. Just fuck you. I'd get more respect sucking dick for 40$. Quicker too.

And I'm trying soooooooo hard and it's just nothing. I'm doing nothing but expending the absolute most amount of effort I currently have before becoming sooo exhausted and frustrated that I'm becoming impulsively violent - much like traits I had very young that I worked to control. Like my day consists of waking up and being brought home. I smoke weed, find a podcast or video or movie to listen to but barely pay attention and try to bring myself to do anything. Like changing my clothes from yesterday. Going out to get food (which if I do is my entire morning and I'm done after). Lately I want soooo badly to get back into my shit. I used to be productive. Like I lost alllllllllllllllllllllllll drive for anything. I cannot fathom going to a job. My whole disposition says I want to die every moment I'm awake. I watched this doc about this crazy lady who starved to death in an abandoned house on an occupied street like ppl walked by the house she had neighbors but she like actively chose to just starve and die. And everyone's so confused like oh the neighbors were there she could've gotten food but no. I get this lady. I am this lady right now. I am in an abandoned house that is my body and my neighbors can see I'm here but they don't care if anyone is home. They wouldn't feed me.

In some ways I was like oh no. This lady is me. But she was delusional. Like she made ppl up. I haven't ever. But I am becoming like my mother more and more but I guess I empathize more. This lady was so depressed like she really wanted to die all the time and she was miserable and couldn't keep friends and I get it now. I got it before but now I really get it because there's no choice anymore. At some point you like... You're standing on the edge of the abyss and then u let go and from that point on its just free falling out of control. You can't stop it once it's hit full momentum. And I'm screaming cuz I did the drugs. And I can do them again so I can placebo effectvmyself for 2 weeks and crash again. I am existing solely for the purpose of a few other ppl right now. Like I can't die right here because my roommate has to find it and he's the last person I want to find dead me. Like if a stranger could spot a body that is me, that'd be good. Or like a dog finds me first. I want to go in a forest. I want my body to refuel the earth and I want animals to tear me apart like when the Indians let vultures eat their dead. I'm dead you know. People have too much control. I'm used to no control and I embrace the lack of control one has in death despite society trying sooo hard. And I'm still there you know cuz I want to control when I die. I wan5 to choose and death is not about choice. And it's hard to die. Killing yourself takes like extreme effort. I cannot selfishly take my cats with me tho I want to. I want to die with my cat in my arms, the only thing that ever really loved me besides my dad. I just want to go far far out where it's no coming back. Like even if I last minute didn't want to I want to be so far out in the woods I can5 make it back in such condition so I just die because wanting to live is the moment of weakness. This is not a moment. I am not in a decade long moment. I am suffering and I hurt and the "system" is a fools game. Like it took 100 yrs to accept certain medications and procedures as fucked up because it takes society 100 yrs to figure anything out and like I guess my hope is that because we're evolving technology so fast maybe in 5 years they will know how to fix depression. They will look in my brain and s3e the suffering and fix it. And I'll flick a switch and my memories will be neutral in feeling, not ptsd.

It's not even ptsd anymore. No, it's not JUST ptsd anymore. It's the starting long term effects of poverty. It's like.. My own mental issues maturing with me as I'm getting older and it's not easier at all?

Like I tried to do my shop and realized its so half assed and like I can't be this age and present this level of effort. I can do better I just chose not to but I spend effort doing it half assed still. I took apart 80% of my jewelry and have yet to go back to it because why. And that's sad. Like I have to be careful now to maintain what I do have or I may not care enough to do it again. I have alllllllllllllllllllllllll the time in the world to do something. Anything. Any. Thing. And I've listened to 350 episodes of last podcast, know deeply a 38 yr old man I never met who plays video games online, watched anything deemed good on Netflix, am totally up to date on s3veral news websites and podcasts and I smoke like 400$ worth of weed a month.

I don't even want to know me.

But like.. I don't pretend I just don't talk. I talk to others, share commentary occasionally but I just don't talk about anything. I especially don't talk about how depressed I am because it just bothers ppl and creates both positive and negative opinions none of which are helpful to the illness.

So im very very secluded. And I used to use isolated but that's negative. That's saying I'm forced into it. I'm forcing it. I'm not. I actively choose it now so I am secluded and extremely private.

I'm still trying though? Like I don't even know why. Today I signed up for usertesting sites because I already do contract tests for consumer reviews so maybe I'll make some money but at the same time I feel like its another dead end. Just go work at McDonald's.

Art wise, there is so much I could do to revamp my shop. All new, well made jewelry. I need all new photos including ones of my art with close ups and stuff. I want to "graduate" my art skills a bit. Like really make nice well cut paper with borders for matting and start to sign my work and like all of this means higher quality so a higher price. I can do fucking better. And honestly I'm not doing anything else right now. My mind is completely disabled and to consider working is laughable now. I know I'm not going to so I can stop being anxious about it. Fuck em. I've been doing a depression project for charity cuz that's what I did earlier this year too but this one is more personal. I have 3/5 of what I wanted for my goal but at the same time what I made is so.. Average. It's not great at all. It's just iok and does the job and I tried my best but maybe I didn't? The fact 3/5 have all turned out with fairly major issues makes me feel less inclined to continue and the whole thing pointless cuz why give something to the homeless that sucks. So u can feel good?

I don't want therapy or medication. I deeply hate society and most of humanity. I used to be OK with it and I wanted to be apart of it but I was so shit on by so many people that I can't do it anymore. It's not worth it. 30 years of shit for like 30 y3ars of average? Cool.

Still trying tho. Still asked for money for food and I'll go hungry today but I'll havevmoney tomorrow I guess. That's life. Me and the 45 ppl on main St homeless. Somedays you eat Somedays you don't. He will probably realize at some point he made a mistake - hopefully. Because if I have to chase him for it, I'm probably going to hang out by myself tomorrow too.

I'm now worried I have no good winter clothes and my boots have holes in them. I'm already in super debt. I have to get a new jacket and boots before it snows. I could've gotten an extra 10 if I braved the cold for 25 min tonight but I'm just so tired I don't care enough. I can't talk to anyone about this. Then I'm just poor and a burden cuz I have no job and spend money on weed. And I did. I put myself far into debt just for weed. I'm now working on this plan that since I've quit smoking I must be up some money so I'll slowly build funds back up by not smoking and not spending crazy. Which even now sounds bullshit. But I'm trying the testing thing as well. If I get my shop up before Xmas rush. These are reasons to try but I'm only trying because d3pression put me in debt. If I wasn't this sad I wouldn't spend this money. I wouldntvlive like this.

Honestly until I get this money I don't even have funds for the bus to get my birth control. At the same time tho I was willing to sit all of this out and wait but I have like 7 days to be paid and I can't go 7 days without eating at all.

I spent myblast 3$ on cat food and honestly just this run down alone describes how insane I am. Like there's no way it's OK for me to be on my own to this degree. No sound psychologist would say yes 100% clearly functioning on their own in need of no assistance. If someone described this to me in my moments of sound mind I would be like this bitch is dead in atleast 5 years. Prob less. Meds aren't enough. Therapy is not enough. And I don't deserve to be in a psych ward because my capacity for reasoning and logic is fully there and it's unfair to have success in q team monitored to be released into the same conditions you know.

What am I doing when my father's gone? This because no one recognized that in a Co dependent relationship there are two people who are d3oendent not just one and instead of really assessing the situation people chose to think I was lazy and living off my father (even tho I was not) ignoring severe depression and suicidal t3ndencies. Thanks.

I am the abandoned house.

Today I was trying to get ready to leave when he said he still wanted to smoke from my bong and ohh where do I have to go that's so important. And it's not just him. It's anyone who knows myclife. They d3cided my time has less value because someone who's not them d3cided to pay me money in exchange for menial tasks. Since I don't have that my time is meaningless and they can not show up to qppts or show up late or leave late or make me wait X amount of time cuz I have all the time in the world. They work u know. But I no longer care. For the people who know me I'm no longer accepting this and just going about my lif3 without them. For those who don't, I'm no longer going to share anything about my life with anyone. I'm just as valuable as you. My time is equally of worth. Fuck you for ever thinking different.

Just remember - anyone else alive, not your problem.