#with some plot-inspired ranting at the end because

[justanotherwriter140]

Kung Fu Panda 4 - The Trailer

Another really, really long discussion post.

PLOT PREDICTIONS/POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD!

I know I'm late to the party. Oops!

Well, I think it's as good of a time as any to write another discussion post because what's better to write about than the Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer? Nothing, evidently, because take a wild guess what I'll be rambling about today.

The first (and possibly last—aside from the Christmas day teasers and product advertisements) Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer was posted to YouTube on December 13th, just under three months before the film's current release date (March 8th). It quickly gained mass public attention, garnering over 140 million views across all social medias on which it was released within its first day of being online. That's...utterly insane.

As an avid Kung Fu Panda fan, I'm thrilled at the attention the new film is getting; however, I'm not ignorant to the many concerns that both fans and casual viewers alike have regarding the content shown in the trailer. In this post, I want to acknowledge and discuss any and all opinions I've seen so far, both positive and negative.

Before I begin, though, I want to let it be known that this isn't a hate post. I want to be respectful and fair above anything else. I will be discussing things that I dislike in the trailer as well as things that I like, and if you don't agree, that's alright! This isn't a persuasive essay, it's an extensive ramble of personal indulgence in the terrifying freedom with which the internet presents us in today's day and age.

So, given that freedom, let's talk about the Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer! Spoilers, nitpicks, and annoyingly specific thoughts lie ahead.

My attention is immediately brought to the changes in the art style. I enjoy stylization a lot, and I think that if done well, it could work favorably when applied to the KFP franchise. The previous movies have toyed with temporary art style changes, usually in backstories and dreamscapes, all examples of which were done expertly and fit well within the respective films in which they appeared. I guess that's all to say I'm definitely on board with alternative art styles being utilized for storytelling purposes (or just because they look awesome).

With that said, though, I'm very much hoping to see the incredibly intricate painting backgrounds/landscapes make a comeback. They've always been a highlight of the films for me and I think that they're a unique detail that adds to the franchise's feel. Suffice it to say, I will be disappointed if that tradition is dropped.

I can't think of a good segue, but I want to point out a detail many fans online were discussing upon the trailer's release: Shifu's staff.

The golden band that has been wrapped around Shifu's (formerly Oogway's) staff since the second film has miraculously disappeared. This is a very odd inconsistency with Shifu's character design.

While it's a small detail, I wanted to point it out and hear some other opinions as to why the staff suddenly looks different. I'm assuming the shot hasn't been fully rendered and as a result, some of the easter eggs that the fans (including myself) like to nitpick simply haven't been added yet.

Outfit change (kind of)!

The trailer features a snippet of Po's battle with a sting ray, which could be interesting seeing as none of the previous films prominently featured any kind of marine life. I'll admit that I'm a bit skeptical about the overall importance of this battle (I'm primarily referring to the relevancy this has to the rest of the film) as the sting ray never appears again in the trailer, but I want to refrain from making snap judgments until I actually...you know...see the movie.

Something tells me this is an introductory sequence of sorts—not necessarily what the film opens with, but perhaps the first time we see Po. The hat and cape are reminiscent of KFP's iconic opening, and the bridge that Po later pins the sting ray against somewhat resembles the bridge in the first movie's dreamscape.

This frame looks cool, but I could have gone without the "Keep your surf off my turf!" bit. On a positive note, I like the paint stroke in the background, it gives a very distinct vibe and I can appreciate it.

The progression of Po's expressions in the "inner peace/dinner please" sequence is fun to watch.

On the other hand, the implications of this scene do not line up with the other movies at all, and—put bluntly—they scare me a little bit.

I fully believe that every individual will realistically have to achieve "inner peace" multiple times in their life. We are constantly changing and growing, and our understanding of ourselves and the world around us will reflect that change.

However, this is the fourth installment of this series, and when themes are repeated three times within the same franchise, they become redundant. It is a sequel's job to make sure that themes aren't repetitious and that the audience feels like they're experiencing something different each time.

Please understand that I don't mean the idea of inner peace should be completely dropped, as I think that the sudden irrelevance of inner peace in a KFP movie would stick out like a sore thumb. Even so, as things are currently, I don't think we need another movie about finding inner peace.

That all is to say Po's seeming inability to achieve even a temporary sense of inner peace in this segment is jarring. If it's a trailer-specific clip or a skit included for laughs, that's fine! But I'm sorry guys, I can't do another "Po finding inner peace" arc. I'm not strong enough.

Moving on!

Thoughts:

The portal looks awesome! Bonus points if the tendrils are made to look like bits of paper—maybe in reference to the Dragon Scroll?

Viola Davis as the Chameleon was an amazing choice, kudos to the casting director!

The lizard army looks pretty cool! I'm excited to see them in action.

As for Tai Lung's legitimate resurrection, I don't know how I feel about it. The "bringing back dead characters" trope has never been a personal favorite of mine, but I want to wait and see what the film has to offer. I understand everyone's qualms regarding this specific plot point, though, and all the ones I've seen so far are valid.

The Chameleon looks cool! I love seeing fanart of her on Tumblr, as well, all of the artists I've seen so far have given such interesting and fun interpretations of the character. I'm excited to see what she brings to the franchise!

Admittedly, I have some reservations regarding her "powers." The third film already explored the notion of stealing life force/kung fu from other kung fu masters (both alive and dead), and as many other fans have pointed out, the Chameleon's abilities seem awfully similar.

I've seen a lot of people talking about how the shadow in the frame above looks like it could belong to Shen, and I don't disagree, but my attention is more so on the fact that the Chameleon has Po's staff—maybe traveling to a foreign city with an outlaw wasn't the best idea.

As for Zhen, anything I could say about her has already been said, for better or worse. I didn't find her voice to be especially irritating in the trailer, but (in my opinion) her design is unfitting for the KFP universe. It's not bad at all, but it doesn't fit.

I can't see myself caring too deeply for her character, but this likely won't be of any consequence because—this is a theory I've seen floating around, I haven't heard anything solid to give credit to the idea—I don't think she's going to end up as the Dragon Warrior.

As for her dynamic with Po, I'm interested. While their interactions have been short and not especially telling in advertisements, it seems like they have the potential to be an entertaining duo. We shall see.

We're back to the fun frames—this looks super cool! The circular structure in the middle of the palace (?) reminds me of a tulou, which is a traditional Chinese communal home of sorts.

I'm very happy to see Li and Mr. Ping making an appearance, they had a fun dynamic in KFP3 and they each have very sentimental and meaningful relationships with Po. The frame above seems to imply that they accompany Po to the city, which has the potential to create a really fun atmosphere for the film.

This looks cool, too! The action sequences look like they're going to be fun.

Zhen's earring looks eerily similar to the architecture of the Chameleon's lair, which leads me to believe that Zhen is either working with the Chameleon at the time of the film or is a former student of the Chameleon.

With that said, I feel like the "plot twist betrayal" is incredibly obvious, but that's likely the point—the movie could very well play it off as being extremely evident (maybe even to a comical degree).

The posters of Zhen are very KFP-esque, and I appreciate the comical frequency of the posters—having so many on one wall almost overlapping one another is overkill.

Sorry, I had to.

Po and Shifu's dynamic has always been top-tier, and hopefully, KFP4 adds to the long list of awesome interactions between them.

This is a 6-second sequence comprised solely of Po choking on peach petals. Alright!

The textures on the chair are beautiful! The silk of Shifu's clothes looks wonderful, too; however, I have to nitpick (not to be genuinely critical, rather just an observation) the arrangement of Shifu's robe (?). If you reference Shifu's appearance earlier in the trailer, the robe goes over his left shoulder instead of his right.

The image above could be mirrored (inverted?) for the sake of the trailer. In the previous clip, Po was facing the right side of the screen—having Shifu facing left could be a way to relate two segments that (obviously, considering the backgrounds) aren't in the same scene.

Anyway, points for awesome weapons!

(Sorry for the bad quality, I couldn't find a great frame to pause on.)

The color palette of this frame is gorgeous, the shades work with one another very well and the way they're applied reminds me of the colors used in the first KFP movie.

I love the architecture! Interestingly enough, the designs to the far left and against the red wall in the background remind me of ancient South American compositions.

The swirling designs on this doorway (?) look very similar to the ones in the frame! While I know it's more than unlikely for there to be South American influence in a KFP movie, when I say "all of my thoughts about the KFP4 trailer," I mean all of them.

To my knowledge, the picture above is of Mayan architecture (which is often confused with Aztec and Inca). Please correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't deeply researched any of the previously mentioned empires in years.

This looks awesome. I love how the "camera" is moving, almost swinging, and how the characters are briefly disproportionated so the shot looks more dynamic.

I really like the look of this part. The color palette is fun, the animation is impressive, and the glowing chameleon trap is a new addition to the films—none of the other movies have featured traps before!

This door (?) in the background is cool-looking!

I...like the colors.

Okay, cool. WHERE ARE THE FURIOUS FIVE?

To be completely transparent, the Furious Five's absence is enormously disheartening. I'm aware that the director stated that they're all on separate missions—which I'd be fine with if the movie either utilizes a B-plot following their respective missions or somehow intertwines their missions with the overarching storyline—and that they'll "make an appearance," but...☹️

I don't see the FF as side characters that can reasonably be absent from a film with no repercussions plot-wise (and viewer-wise, depending on the audience). Each member represents a form of kung fu, and they have proven influential to Po's character throughout the series (especially Tigress, but that's neither here nor there given the context).

That all is to say I miss the Furious Five. KFP4, give me five minutes of content, it'll tide me over for the next five years. I can write so much based on a singular micro-expression, you have no idea.

The Furious Five's absence is disconcerting, but otherwise, I'm not completely turned off from the film yet. It has a subpar trailer but one could reasonably argue that all of the KFP movies had lacking trailers (purposefully so, likely for the sake of being deceptive).

Believe what you like! We won't know anything for sure until the film releases, and even then, movies are subjective (which is both a blessing and a curse).

Thank you to those who decided to deal with my erratic trailer thoughts and read this post! I know I didn't discuss the storyline/plot in much detail, but I want to hold off on doing so until the film releases.

If you're interested, all of my thoughts regarding the story (that I still stand by) can be found in my previous "really, really long" post. I refrained from discussing the storyline much in this specific post because the trailer wasn't especially telling of the overall story, and I've already expressed my opinion regarding the film's plot.

Rest assured, I'll be writing a very lengthy plot-centric post come the release of the film. I'm very excited to admire the animation and hear the iconic Hans Zimmer KFP soundtrack (because we already know it's going to be phenomenal).

To end on a positive note...

It's giving accidental renaissance.

Happy (belated) New Year and thanks for reading---I need a break. 😭

[humanjarvis]

serenade

synopsis: when top music critic sylus qin gives your new album a scathing review, you plan a performance to make him pay. 

tags: celebrity au, porn with plot, enemies to lovers (reader hates him, sylus is generally a bastard but just doing his job), mirror sex, p in v, light choking, moderate biting, size difference, dramatic reader, reader does some light internet stalking, brief angst only bc sylus’s review was mean, he does something nice at the end to make up for it, inspired by dandelion by ariana grande pairing: music critic!sylus x pop star!fem reader word count: 7.2k

a/n: writing this was a traumatic experience i literally decided i was going to finish and upload today 12 hours ago because i cannot have this in my drafts any longer

I. THE RATING

 “A fucking 4.7?!” you screech, hurling your phone across the bed in horror.

It must be a mistake. A typo, or maybe your eyesight has gotten worse since your last checkup. Paparazzi cameras can do that, your optometrist had told you once. Yes. You’re sure that’s the case.

Taking a moment to breathe—hyperventilate, more like—you snatch the device back up and double-check with wild eyes.

And sure enough, in big bold letters: Four. Point. Seven.

There was no way. No fucking way that that hard-ass snobby bastard Sylus Qin had given your new album—the record you’d poured your heart and soul into—a 4.7/10 rating.

You refresh and refresh, but the numbers stay the same. 4.7, followed by heartless jabs that carve into your chest like daggers. Failed. Uninspired. Noise. 

You must have died last night, somehow. You must be dead right now. And for some reason unbeknownst to you—you’ll have to talk it out with God if you ever get the chance—you had woken up in Hell. 

Life as you knew it was over. The little ghouls who hounded you online were going to throw you to the wolves. Your agent would be lucky to book you at a high school bake sale. The reporters—if you even counted as a celebrity anymore—would never let this go. And there was only one man to blame. 

Sylus Qin. 

The name alone struck fear into the hearts of the entire pop industry. Not even the living legends with decades-long careers were safe. 

The man himself was an enigma, with little known of him other than his unnaturally deep voice and moderately vampiric appearance. But the reputation that preceded him was that of the most renowned music critic alive. 

No one knew how he got his start—maybe he’d just spawned onto Earth one day, slashing dreams and breaking hearts. Or maybe his mother had played him the classics while she carried him, murmuring to her belly about what true music was, and he’d been ranting about artistic integrity and sonic evolution since before he could walk. 

No matter what his story was, the facts were that your peers lived in terror of a bad Sylus Qin review—or any Sylus Qin review, really. He’d ruined so many careers, it was like he had a yearly quota. 

And the prick had just given what you’d thought was your magnum opus the industry equivalent of a public hanging.

As frustrated tears well in your eyes, you take a look around the house you’d only just managed to buy—the cozy Gothic fireplace, the customized in-home studio, and the quaint little garden. It was all still so new to you. And just like that, you’d have to give it up soon. 

You were wholly, utterly, and hopelessly fucked. 

***

Death. You’d imagined it’d be…more peaceful. Less emotional devastation, more belated introspection. 

But as you shift under the weighted blanket you’d rolled yourself up in, the sudden movement disturbing the heap of tear-stained tissues on top of you, you realize how much you hate being wrong. 

Your life had officially been over for almost 22 hours. And in those hours, you’d stared at the wall, ignored 36 text messages, opened and immediately closed your socials countless times, and sobbed into your satin pillowcase. 

As you roll away from the sliver of sunlight slipping through your curtains with a pained hiss, you hear the heavy footsteps climbing up your marble staircase. 

Oh well, you shrug inwardly. Not like it can get any worse. If it’s an intruder, they can have at it. Put me out of my misery. 

But as a familiar pattern of knocks precedes the door swinging open, allowing more light than you’d seen in the last day to flood the room, you realize that this may be a fate worse than brutal murder. 

“You can’t answer your phone anymore or something?” the tenor voice of Devon, your beloved, overbearing manager cuts through the room. 

“Go away,” you mumble, the sound muffled by the heavy blanket covering your mouth. 

You hear an incredulous snort. “Go awa—Girl, get up,” he snaps, walking up to tug the blanket off of you. As he heaves it to the foot of the bed, the army of tissues scatters across the room like huge snowflakes of failure, and your jostled body ends up sprawled in an almost-perfect diagonal from the impact. 

“I’ve been calling you all morning! And not only do you not pick up, but you block my number? You had me rushing over here to do a wellness check like you died or something.” 

“Oh. Well,” you begin nonchalantly. “In case you haven’t heard, I did. Yesterday. And I’m finding it to be quite pleasant, actually,” you lie through your teeth and purse your lips, “so I’d like to continue being dead, please. Alone.” 

“Yeah. Right,” he responds, mouth wedged open in a clearly annoyed grimace. “Okay, we do not have time for this, girl. You got a fan engagement livestream scheduled for this evening. You’ve never canceled a stream, not even when you lost your voice from that virus that one time. You really gonna let that man break your streak?” 

At the mere reference to his existence, your face shrivels and you curl into a defensive ball. “Oh, what’s the point?” you wail, shoving your face into the mattress. “There will probably only be 4.7 viewers. And then the tabloids will be filled with news about how I’m talentless and unpopular.” 

Devon closes his eyes, pinches the mahogany skin of his prominent nose, and releases a slow, controlled exhale. 

“Okay,” he starts, visibly switching tactics. “If your own fans—you know, the people who made you famous—can’t get you out of bed, maybe this will.” He takes a deep breath, as if bracing for impact, before continuing. “I have it on good authority that Sylus Qin is doing a TV interview. Tonight.”

And in the middle of an agonized writhe, you freeze in place. 

“He never does interviews,” you say lowly, voice suddenly hard enough to cut diamond. “He’s never done an interview, D. Stop bullshitting.” 

“Dead serious,” he replies, shoving his too-bright phone in your still sideways face. And sure enough, mysterious critic act be damned, Sylus Qin’s name is in bright bold letters on the hottest talk show in the country’s latest social post. 

Failing to suppress the anxious pang in your chest, you swallow thickly. “It’s…real. You weren’t….he’s actually going to…right after…he…” The world starts spinning as you trail off, and when the dry heaves start up on their own, you wonder if it’s possible to die twice. 

“Chill! Girl, chill,” Devon yells, firmly sitting you up on the bed. “My contact in production said he’s not talking about his work. He’ll be there to announce something, so he shouldn’t mention you unless they ask.” 

“Unless they ask,” you cry, slapping your palms to your face. 

“Which they won’t,” he adds in unsuccessful reassurance. “I just figured it might wake you up a bit. You’ve never seen him before, right? Maybe some exposure therapy will help.” 

Chewing your bottom lip hard enough to leave marks, you consider your options. You could either kick your manager out and wallow in bed until you get a foreclosure notice, or get up, grit your teeth through the livestream, and rush back to your bedroom afterwards to hate-watch Sylus on national television and pray he doesn’t speak your name. 

Your conscience and the voice in your head confer, and it seems like your anxiety has beaten your depression this time. Second option it is. 

II. THE INTERVIEW

After an excruciating hour of smiling blankly, avoiding talking about your album, and pretending not to see cruel comments, the stream is over. 

It was time to stare Death in the face. 

With 8 minutes to spare, you run up the stairs from the streaming setup in your studio and catapult into your walk-in closet, ripping your intricate work clothes off and diving into the comfiest loungewear you can find. If you were going to do this, you were going to do it comfortably. 

3 minutes. You dim the lights and flip the TV on, having already set it to the right channel in a bout of paranoia hours ago. Your house is empty except for you, but you trot over to shut the door just in case. A potential humiliation ritual was a private affair. 

And with 30 seconds to go, you unmute the TV and slowly climb onto your bed, sitting cross-legged and letting out the kind of breath you’d spent hundreds on mastering in pilates. 

The cheery, inauthentic talk show theme fills your ears, and you lift your eyelids open in resolve. 

A corny host intro. A brief band performance. And then, a tall white-haired man is strolling across your screen. 

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the illustrious Sylus Qin! 

Your heart stops. 

“Thank you, it’s my pleasure to be here,” a baritone purr rings out. Unnaturally deep voice, huh. They’d been right about one thing.

And then he sits on the smooth leather couch, turning his body to face the camera. 

Sylus Qin is…young. Not some wrinkled up curmudgeon out to terrorize the youth in his bitter old age. By the looks of it, he hasn’t even reached his 40s yet. 

Another observation. Sylus Qin is big. To be tall is one thing—not that special in a world of models doubling as singers—but this guy nearly swallows the sofa with his huge, obviously muscled frame. You wonder how he finds the time to work out between ruining lives. 

And as you take in his chiseled appearance—certainly vampiric, you think—you realize with unprecedented dread: Sylus Qin is handsome. 

“Mr. Qin,” the host begins, “we know this opportunity is extremely rare, so let me just say—it is our absolute honor to have you here during such a busy time for you.” 

It’s an ambiguous reference, probably not even to his most recent work, but you flinch backwards anyway. 

“Not a problem at all,” he drawls smoothly. “And just ‘Sylus’ is fine. I heard you all like to…have fun on this show.” He finishes the reply with a conspiratorial smirk, and you can all but see the women in the audience swoon at his despicable charm. “Like you said, this is a rare moment. You’re here to ask, and I’m here to answer. So, ask away.” 

“Perfect,” the host starts. “So, Mr—ahem—Sylus, you’ve built your reputation through exclusive music correspondence for a variety of publications…” 

***

As the minutes tick by and your hatred turns to intrigue, you start to really study the man in front of you. Learn his unique cadence, contemplate the angle of his aristocratic nose. Take in the way his ruby eyes glint when he talks about music, the way he sounds older than the age listed on his Wikipedia. And his IMDb. And his famousbirthdays.com. You’d triple-checked. 

You note the way he smirks at difficult questions, as if welcoming the challenge and begging for something harder. The way he crosses and uncrosses his thick, long legs as he weaves his answers into an impromptu PR masterclass. The way he panders to the audience so subtly you’d think it natural—if not for the way his large palms open when he looks their way, as if luring them into his trap from the stage. 

Fuck, he’s hot. And you can’t even try to pretend otherwise. 

Until a particularly sore subject snaps you out of your ogling and draws you back into the conversation.

“Now, Sylus, you may be a critic, but you’ve received some criticism yourself lately for your ‘harsh and grating’ reviews, especially in the pop sphere. Some go as far as to claim you’re even biased against pop artists. What do you say to that?”

And Sylus Qin chuckles. The bastard chuckles. As if he actually finds it funny. 

“I give albums and their creators the reviews they earn,” he says evenly. “I didn’t get to where I am today by handing out participation trophies.” 

He’s doubling down. You can’t believe he’s doubling down. 

“I’ve heard that some recent articles of mine have…ruffled some feathers. There’s never a shortage of angry fans in my inbox,” he shrugs. “But it’s my job to speak up when projects are…uninspired. You all get better music that way,” he quips, spreading his palms once more. 

Uninspired. Uninspired. The word that’s flashed in your head nonstop for the past 36 hours. A failed ascent to the top of pop stardom reveals itself as little more than uninspired noise. 

That was the exact quote he’d left in his scathing review of your album—you remembered. Because you’d read it—cried to it—over. And over. And over. And he’d just alluded to it with a smirk on his face, the crowd eating straight from his outstretched hands, in front of the entire country. 

Ugly, uncontrollable shame heats your face as the all too familiar tears sting your eyes once more. As you search for the remote through blurry vision, your blood burns hotter than lava, and you curse yourself for letting your guard down. For seeing any redeeming qualities—even if only physical—in a man with his reputation. With his lack of empathy. 

When your fingers close around the controller and you stumble off the bed, more than ready to click the TV off and return to the glorious rot-until-you-get-kicked-out plan, you freeze as Sylus speaks again. 

“That said,” he continues, “I encourage any artists who’ve been offended by my commentary to come chat about it in person. That’s my reason for coming here, after all—to announce that I’ll be attending the annual Spirit Awards this year.” 

Thumb hovering over the “off” button, you blink your tears away in disbelief. The Spirit Awards. You know that show. You know that show well. Because as thanks for your viral performance at last year’s event, you’d been invited to sing in the main performance slot. 

You were going to headline. And Sylus Qin would be your audience. 

As the interview ends and his figure fades to black with the next commercial, a sudden realization talks you down from the ledge. 

This was your chance. To give the best damn show you’d ever put on, to reclaim the work whose meaning had been stolen from you. To sink his reputation, and to save yours. 

Maybe it’s a good thing he looks the way he does, you think, a slow smile spreading across your increasingly mischievous face.

Because for the first time in almost two days, you’re confident. Confident that you’ll not only get him to change his mind, but that you’ll get him. Period. 

Sylus Qin, we’ll see about that fucking 4.7 when I’m done with you.

III. THE PLAN

Bleary eyes. A full night of sleep lost. And three 12-ounce iced coffees delivered straight to your door. 

But after eight and a half hours, Operation: Silence Sylus was a go. 

After the interview, you’d set up a makeshift situation room in your studio. You’d hauled all your devices—phone, laptop, monitor, smart watch, you name it—into the space for backup. Anything that could find information, you needed. You’d have even dragged your smart microwave in here if you could figure out the wires. 

But, all things considered, the setup had been the easy part. Because what came after was an informal case study on the most elusive man in history. 

You’d started simple: his social media. 

There was more to work with than you’d expected, but nothing too crazy. He had 2.6 million followers—a fraction of yours, you’d smirked, but still good for someone whose work is out of the spotlight.

His photos had no discernible aesthetic, as if he posted them straight from his camera roll. And his upload patterns…the lack of marketing was so severe it sent a shiver down your spine. The man posted a few times a year, if that, and the captions he did include were vague and simple. He’s lying about his age, you’d decided, because this guy is old as fuck. 

But Sylus’s dire need for a social media manager was far from the most interesting thing you’d noticed. No, in all your 264 weeks’ worth of research—you’d scrolled until the app wouldn’t let you refresh anymore—not a single other person was featured on his feed. Like, there’d been more motorcycle pictures than humans on there. You’d have chalked it up to the narcissism typical of men like him, but he hardly even posted his own face. 

And as shameful as it was to stalk the man who’d publicly humiliated you’s Instagram to see if he had a girlfriend, it was absolutely necessary. If the answer was yes, it’d put the whole plan in jeopardy! You were simply doing your job as a diligent creative, covering all your bases in advance. How would you seduce him into changing his mind about you if he had a fucking girlfriend? Or worse? 

That would be your next stop, then, you’d nodded resolutely. His dating history. 

But no matter how many articles you read; how many variations of Sylus Qin girlfriend, sylus Qin single, Sylus qin married, sylus qin Boyfriend you’d put in the search bar; how many viruses you’d probably gotten on your laptop from clicking through trashy tabloid sites; there was nothing. No photos, no reported sightings, hardly even a rumor. You’d typed in Sylus Qin asexual as a last resort, but that came back empty, too. 

You’d sat in disbelief for a second, wondering how he could be so…clean. Even with his…glowing personality, his looks and success more than made up for any quirks. In this town, people should have been throwing themselves at him left and right, bogeyman allegations be damned. 

But there was no mistaking it. As far as romance was concerned, the man was a blank slate. 

Good thing you were coming for him with a big feather pen, ready to brand your name into his skin.

***

After analyzing his public image and making sure no…obstacles would block your path, it was time for a personality study. And where better to start than his full catalogue of reviews? His portfolio was practically front and center on his publication’s website—all 114 articles offered to you on a silver platter. 

Almost immediately, you’d taken a nervous breath and hastily clicked past the most recent page. The abject horror of the 4.7 was still too fresh on your mind, and you’d be damned if tonight ended with a traumatic episode. So you’d landed on the second most recent page, starting with reviews from a couple months ago. And you’d read. 

104 irritatingly confident articles. You’d read his praise, his disappointment, his bewilderment, his disgust. His beautifully packaged this-person-should-be-sent-to-prison-for-making-this-es. No matter how much you disagreed with some—most—of his takes, he was an incredible writer. 

He tolerated jazz the most, it seemed. The smooth melodies, the warm embrace of the trumpet, trombone, and sax. It was so incredibly old. But it suited him. 

“The riveting blend of brass and reed solos marks the triumphant rebirth of a fallen genre,” he’d complimented a band earlier this year. Looking at his preferences, it was no wonder why your synth-heavy pop beats seemed to have personally offended him. 

But for all the things Sylus thought he knew about you, he was missing a few key items:

You were desperate. To win back the public, to win his approval, to win him. 

You were planning a deluxe album with six new songs. And one of those songs said please fuck me disguised under a sensual trumpet solo. 

You were desperate enough to release said album and perform said song a month early, solely to prove a point. 

And with one screaming match of a phone call to Devon at 6 a.m., it’d been done. 

You hadn’t coordinated with your dancers yet. Or told your label. Or informed the Spirit Awards producers that you’d be changing your set. But in your sleep-deprived, caffeine-jittered mind, it was all but confirmed. Your next performance would be dedicated to Sylus Qin. 

There was only one more piece to put into place. With newfound conviction, you’d reopened his Instagram and clicked “Direct Message” before you could talk yourself out of it. And while you’d have liked to send him a colorful list of expletives, you maintained your professionalism. 

Hi! I heard you’re going to the Spirits next Sunday. Hope you’re in the crowd for my performance—would love to chat after :) 

The passive aggressive smiley face of doom. Sent and delivered. 

His fate was sealed, but he didn’t know it yet.  

Between excited bounces of your leg, you’d taken a final pass at his portfolio, and your eyes found your name before you could stop them. 

“Deeming the music passable is more of a compliment than any listener should be willing to give. A failed ascent to the top of pop stardom reveals itself as little more than uninspired noise.”

Failed. Uninspired. Noise. There they were again, the insults seared into the back of your mind. 

A reminder of your shame, but a motivator for you to make him eat his words. 

IV. THE PREP

You’d always loved awards shows.

The buzz of energy backstage, the rushed glimpses of peers and legends, the flamboyant accessories and vibrant strips of fabric strewn across the floor. The kind of chaos you’d learned to thrive in. 

After making the rounds of greetings and introductions, you take a break outside your dressing room in the main hall. Your stage outfit was already on and hidden under a frilly robe; you always liked to arrive early in case of any mishaps. (Lesson learned from the time you’d been fashionably late and had to go onstage in an unfashionable loose corset. That had slipped down mid-song.)

Chatting with your head dancer, you laugh at a video she shows you on her phone before spotting something in the corner of your eye: a flash of white hair. 

Your body goes rigid.

But the lightning-quick twitch in your eye is forcing you to turn around, and your breath hitches as soon as you do. 

Sylus Qin is here. 

Just as he said he’d be, you suppose, but it’s no less surreal seeing the object of your warring emotions in the flesh. 

Somehow, he’s taller than he looks on camera. Bigger, too. How someone whose job involved hunching over a laptop writing hate mail every day could be built like a professional athlete, you’d never know. 

Black slacks are snug around his strong legs, and he’s paired them with a silken, wine-red shirt that you’re sure would match the color of his eyes if he’d just turn arou—

It’s like he heard you. Felt you. 

Because before you can even finish your thought, Sylus Qin’s bewitching ruby eyes are on you. 

When your jaw drops slightly, his lips curl. And as that lazy, taunting, I’m-better-than-you smirk spreads across his gorgeous face, it reignites the feelings that got you here. The hatred and humiliation and unyielding spite.

So with flames in your eyes, you pat the dancer on the back and give her a cheerful platitude before storming—no, sauntering, you should saunter—over. 

When he bends his neck to accommodate your comparatively small stature, Sylus Qin watches you like you’re his favorite reality show. 

“Sylus!” you squeal, pulling him into a side hug. One thing you’d learned in the industry: overfamiliarity was the best form of offense. “It’s so nice to see you here! I’m glad you could make it.” 

You expect him to falter. To push away from you in a decidedly rude yet necessarily humanizing show of uncertainty. For that condescending smirk to waver in confusion, only a little. 

But to your surprise, he simply wraps a very muscled arm around you and returns your embrace. He’d been trained well, you lament with an inward groan. 

“It’s great to be here,” he says smoothly, and the way he rumbles your name makes you want to forego the performance entirely and beg him to take you here and now. “Especially since someone was nice enough to invite me to watch their performance. I get the opposite, usually—people typically fake illness when I watch them in person—so I just had to see this for myself,” he drawls. 

At some point, he’d laid his warm hand on your robe-clad shoulder, rubbing up and down in time with his slow words. But like that wasn’t enough, you’d almost been too wrapped up in his heady scent to notice. In his teasing embrace, the smell of spice, leather, and a hint of pomegranate envelop you, and you have to school your expression to look like you aren’t huffing it in. 

As you stare up at him blinking dumbly, you notice his smirk widen, and somewhere in the back of your head you remember that conversations are two-sided. 

“Y-yes,” you try to assert, cursing the way your voice shakes with need. “It’s right up your alley. I think—I know you’ll like it.” 

“You know, hm?” he quirks a brow, circling his thumb against your arm. 

“I know. It’s a new song, much more to your liking. Think of it as…a tribute. To your glowing review of me,” you reply coldly, untangling yourself from his hold despite your body’s protests. If you had any chance tonight, you had to level the playing field. Which meant Sylus Qin could not touch you anymore. 

“Mm,” he hums, eyes lingering on the spot you’d detached yourself from before flicking up to your face. “I reviewed your album, sweetie. Not you. Even so, nothing I said was untrue,” he shrugs as you bristle with rage. “But…if your performance is to my taste, as you claim, then you’ll know my review soon after. Before the end of the night, I’d say.”

His words are intentionally vague, as if he’s goading you into asking what he means. But under the heat of his gaze, you’re too prideful and angry and turned on to ask for clarification. 

“Then I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” you challenge him with a saccharine smile. 

He nods plainly, as if merely entertaining the idea of you ever impressing him. “I guess we will.” 

That twitch in your eye? It’s back with a vengeance. 

Before it can overtake your whole face, you spin on your heel and sashay away from him, pretending not to care if he watches you leave or not. 

Refusing to stop before you’re out of his sight, you disappear into your dressing room and slump into the nearest chair. As the stylists flock over to put the last touches on your hair and makeup, you try not to chew your nails off and ruin your fresh manicure. Damn him, you think for the 300th time in a week. 

***

In the center of the room, a monitor broadcasts the show’s live feed. The early portions go by in a blink—time flies when you have pre-seduction attempt anxiety, you guess—and before you know it, it’s 10 minutes to showtime. 

As soon as you’re clear to set up on stage, you make a beeline for the curtain and pull it back ever so slightly, looking for Sylus in the crowd. And just to your luck, there he is, sitting pretty in the second fucking row. Great if you don’t mess up, catastrophic if you do. 

Just as his all-knowing eyes shift toward the stage, as if he somehow felt your gaze from afar, you inch back into the inky shadows of the curtain. 

Two minutes to go. Clenching your hands into fists, you squeeze your eyes shut and breathe. 

It was time to channel the outrage, embarrassment, and devastatingly irritating lust into the performance of your life. 

V. THE SHOW

The soft swells of a trumpet float through the hushed arena.

The player, first chair in a local jazz ensemble, sways gently to the beat, his dark skin glowing in the warm stage lights. 

In time with the soulful melody, dozens of dancers fan out around the bar set, fiddling with prop bottles of fake booze. Your hours of research had pointed you in one direction: a speakeasy theme. 

Perfect for a jazz intro, and seductive enough to get your point across without getting you banned from live television. 

The outfit under your robe was a modern take on the 1920s: a bejeweled crimson flapper dress, sharp black stilettos, and a thick raven’s feather nestled in your hair. 

Just like you’d practiced, you stumble onto the set, miming drunken confusion as you trip into a male dancer’s arms. You shoot him a flirtatious smile when he steadies you, only for your attention to be captured by the trumpet still crooning in the background.

Enraptured by the player, you glide across the stage to lean against him, standing back-to-back with your hands on your heart. The tassels on your dress flow in time with the sultry swirls of your hips. 

A few more beats, and the intricate solo dwindles into the main riff that marks the true beginning of your set, to the audible gasps of the crowd. Look, you liked jazz as much as anyone—well, maybe not someone—but this was still your song. Your stage. And you were here to wake it up! As good as the player was, you had hypothetical sex to sing about. 

So the trumpet fades out, replaced by a poppy trap beat. Between each drum hit, your female dancers crowd you, tearing off the edges of your dress until you’re left in a shimmering red bodysuit. 

Strutting across the stage, you work through the lyrics of the first verse, eyeing the audience as you sing for someone special to come and take what he wants from you. 

The way you prowl from edge to edge is suggestive, inviting. The screams of the fans drown out the sound in your earpiece, but the winks you give them are only for show. You’d decided a week ago that you’d be a bad idol tonight. You’d make up for it later—a giveaway, follow spree, or something—but tonight, your focus was reserved for one man. 

As you ease into the chorus, your muscles glint under the twinkling lights, flexing in time with fluid spreads of your arms and gentle footwork. A siren song is what you’re singing, rhythmic pleas for a partner to make good on his promise falling from your lips. 

The next verse brings a slowdown in the melody that you meet with sensual rolls of your hips. Twisting your frame, you slide a purposeful hand down to rest just above your pelvis, tangling the other in your hair. 

The beat picks back up as you lead a line of men down the steps and into the audience, playfully evading their touches. It’s a calculated game of cat and mouse—one you’d hoped would pique the interest of the man you’d done this for. And as you parade right behind his row, boldly ghosting a hand over his shoulder in the dim crowd lighting, the tension in his muscles tells you you’d been right.

You can’t see his face, but the thought of him suffering right now is so satisfying, you have to fight to keep the vindictive smile off your face. Revitalized, you flounce back onstage right as the bridge melts into the final chorus—your favorite part of the show. 

Because while you’d been working the crowd, the crew had lined up seven shiny motorcycles at the front of the stage. Six were for your dancers, of course, but the seventh? That one was special. You’d gone through hell to get that bike on time—the same luxury model that was plastered all over Sylus Qin’s Instagram. The seventh bike was yours.

Taking your place in the center, you swing a leg over the seat and lower your hips gracefully, snapping back into the final moves of the choreography. 

With a daring raise of your eyebrow, you glance at his massive frame in the second row. He’s relaxed now, body no longer rigid with surprise. A bit too relaxed, you think, with the way his legs are spread apart, thumb swiping lazily across his smirking mouth. His gaze locks onto the familiar brand etched into the side of the bike before traveling up to yours, and the half a second of eye contact sends a shudder down your spine. 

Between hazy, hopefully covert blinks, you hum out the last note of the song to thunderous applause. When you release your ending pose, waving to the sea of cheering faces, your eyes find his seat once more.

But Sylus Qin is gone.

VI. THE AFTERMATH

The moment you step backstage, a flood of congratulations greets you. 

Dancers, friends, and strangers huddle all around you, whooping with joy at your undeniable triumph.

But between the friendly pats on your shoulders, sweaty hugs, and heaving breaths, you wonder if tonight can be called a success at all. 

Hours and hours of mourning your young career. Of research that, in any other circumstance, probably would have gotten you on a watchlist. Of hard work, of pivoting, of betting your entire future on the hope that he’d break. And he’d just…left. 

You were never one to stop a celebration early, but the burning pangs of defeat are too much to bear. With a tight smile and a flick of your card into the nearest hand—drinks are on you tonight—you trudge back to the solace of your dressing room. 

And the scent of leather and spice hits you a second too late. 

Because in all his wicked glory, Sylus Qin is in your empty dressing room, lounging in your chair like he owns the place. 

Your initial reaction—a startled jump and a choked squeak—has his eyes sparkling in satisfaction, and you stalk up to the mirror with a scowl before you can embarrass yourself any further.

Feigning nonchalance, you remove your accessories one by one, starting with the feather in your hair. As you place it gently on the marble counter, a firm chest presses against your back, and you see his frame nearly swallow yours in the glass before you. 

“If I were a bolder man, I’d think you were trying to send me a message just now,” he purrs into your ear. 

Glancing at his reflection, you shrug noncommittally. “Did you like it?”

You receive a soft hum in response. 

As you continue your act with trembling hands, Sylus cages you against the hard edge of the counter, admiring the remaining pieces of your costume with light, teasing touches. 

Once you make no effort to stop him, a large hand rises to close loosely around your throat. When his thumb brushes your bottom lip, you bite it hard enough to sting, and his deep chuckle worsens the throbbing between your legs. 

“I’m enough of a man to admit when I’m wrong. I underestimated you, it seems.” The low admission sends blood rushing through your ears, and you lean into him with a quiet gasp. “You have me right where you want me now, right? Then tell me—how did you come up with your little stunt?”

Tense seconds tick by as you debate your options. How humiliating it’d be to come clean in his arms. But then again, humiliated had been your main emotion as of late. With a deep exhale and slight tuck of your head, you begin your confession.

“I just wanted you to change your mind,” you whisper, watching as he unravels the satin ribbons on your bodysuit. 

 “I was so proud of that album, Sylus. Took me months to feel good enough to release it. And then I wake up to see the most respected voice in music calling it worthless.” 

Your voice wobbles at the mention of his review, and his fingers freeze on the lowest ribbon. 

“I thought my career was over. That’s what you do, right?” you ask, eyes flashing up at him. “Ruin people like me.”

Checking your teary gaze in the mirror, he has the decency to press a kiss to the skin between your neck and shoulder. 

“My manager had to do a wellness check,” you add with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I could barely get out of bed. But then he told me…I’d have a chance to see you that night. And I guess the anxiety of impending doom was enough of a motivator. So I got up, and I watched.” 

As your voice steadies, it grants him permission to undo the final ribbon. It loosens with a firm tug, and the slackened fabric sags around your body, waiting to be removed entirely. 

“I really did want to change your mind. To prove myself to you. But then I saw that stupid fucking interview…saw you for the first time, and I…”

“You what, sweetie?” he murmurs into your neck, spurring you on with a gentle kiss. 

“I wanted you, too.”

As he sucks in a breath, you take the moment to step out of your costume, tossing it to the floor below. You’re nearly bare before him, now, save for the thin tights and thong still blocking you from his sight. 

“That’s what all this was for,” you reveal, gesturing to the fallen fabric. “I wanted your attention—all of it—in any way I could get it. So you were right. I wanted to end up right here, with you.” 

For several seconds, his labored sighs are the only sounds in the room. You, unfortunately, are too afraid to breathe. But before long, warm hands grasp your hips, pulling you flush against his hardened lower half.

Catching your ear between sharp teeth, he floods your senses with a smooth whisper. “It seems you got what you wanted, then. Why don’t I tell you what I thought?”

And the second the “please” escapes your lips, he tears the thin layers left on your hips clean off your body. 

He uses your shock to his advantage, taking the chance to free his swollen cock and glide it across your slit, teasing your clenching hole with the pulsing length. When he’s coated in your wetness, he surges into you with a firm thrust, groaning at the squeeze of your fluttering walls. 

Allowing you a moment to adjust to the stretch, he gropes the fat of your hip before continuing. 

“You obviously did your research,” he rumbles, pumping in and out of you at a steady tempo. “Speakeasies were the home of jazz, for a time.” 

As the curve of his tip hits deep inside you, you wish you’d gotten a look at him. You’d expected him to be big, if the rest of his body was any indication, but the sheer fullness in your core feels like it should be illegal. 

“And the arrangement…paying homage with a modern twist. It was admirable. Bold,” he grits out, hissing as your cunt tightens at the compliment. 

Locking eyes with him in the mirror, you meet his thrusts with a high-pitched whine, asking for more—more pressure, more praise, more of all he could give. 

With a patronizing tsk, Sylus grips your jaw in one hand, pulling your face close to his. “How many ratings of mine did you read to pull this off? I wouldn't think you knew what real instruments were, based on that album.”

The barb snaps you out of docility, and you try to twist away from him with a sneer and grumble. But Sylus only pulls you back into his quickening strokes, a fond, terrorizing chuckle enveloping you. 

“Don’t run, sweetie. I’m flattered, really. Like I was when you got on that bike—my bike—and I wanted to pull you down from that stage,” he breathes, circling two fingers around your throbbing clit. “Because I knew in that moment, you were mine.”

As his claim rings through the air, he pinches your sensitive flesh and ups his pace, kissing your cervix with brutal strokes as the lewd slaps of skin on skin echo around you. Shaky breaths and soft whimpers leave your mouth, and you rut back into him as much as his firm grip on your hips allows.

“This was all for me, hm? For my attention, you said? Now you have it,” he murmurs huskily, and a sharp scratch of teeth against the pulse in your throat has you spilling over the edge with a desperate moan. 

Somewhere in the haze of your orgasm, he pulls out with a groan of his own, leaving you empty and shivering until you feel his warm release coat the curve of your back.

With the last of his strength, he turns your face to his and captures your lips in a heated kiss, your tongues tangling unhurriedly. You’re forced to pull away first, already more than drained of your stamina for the night. When you slump forward in exhaustion, he falls into you, folding you over the counter with his heavy weight. 

You groan at the impact but welcome the soothing pressure, and for a while, your heaving exhales mingle in the quiet of the room. 

Once his breathing evens out, his low drawl—raspier than usual—eclipses the silence. “So,” he begins, and you can tell he’s smirking above you without even seeing his face. “How would you rate my performance tonight?”

Too tired to scoff, you settle for a mocking hum. “Hmm…an 8. I’d say a 9, but you just lost a point for that line,” you smile softly. “The pacing was good, but the feeling was lacking. It felt a little…uninspired.”

VII. THE EPILOGUE

You can’t feel your limbs the next morning. 

You can’t feel your limbs, but your phone is ringing—has been for a few minutes now, you think groggily. 

With a pained grunt, you roll over and over in bed until the screen is within reach and put the call on speaker. 

“Check your texts!” Devon yells excitedly, damn near blasting your ears off. 

“What? What are you talking about?” you grumble. “And you know not to wake me up until at least 4 p.m. after a show.”

“Sure, girl, fire me if you want. Just check your texts!” he repeats, voice climbing to a near screech.

“Fine, just give me a—”

Your jaw drops. It has no choice but to drop.

Because sitting in your inbox, right there at the top, is an updated link to Sylus Qin’s review of your album.

And right there, where that dreaded 4.7 had stared you down, is a giant, boldface 8.

[dollishmehrayan]

# TAKE EVERYTHING AS IT WAS WRITTEN FOR YOU ── .✦ ( batboys x writer!reader who writes ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: hey so I’m back from the dead apparently, anywaysss omgg I missed you guys Hii and I will posting more content from now on and taking this seriously and these past days I was super stressed out over moving but hey my lovess anyways I decided to base this writer s/o over like anyone, like whether you write fan fic like me or write actual books, it matters to this hcs !! Tags: (batboys x writer!s/o)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

# DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He loves that you're a writer ( listen he just LOVESSS creative women like hello !? God forbid a guy likes creative people 🫠) he's your #1 fan and biggest hype man.

Tries to read your work over your shoulder while you're typing, even if you hate it “Babe, I need to know what happens next!” Like constantly over your shoulder seeing what you’re drafting and etc.

Occasionally offers cheesy plot ideas like “what if the love interest also knows parkour?” (His ideas suck)

Will 100% brag to everyone: “Yeah, my partner’s a genius novelist. Ever heard of them? You will.” OOOOO

Falls asleep listening to you ramble about story arcs and character development. It's his favorite sound.

Writes you little encouraging notes like, “You got this, Hemingway 💪” and sticks them on your laptop / tablet or wtv you have bbg.

# JASON TODD ── .✦

Loves your dark, gritty writing especially if there's violence, angst, or moral grayness involved since a lot of people don’t write angst that casually.

Offers surprisingly insightful edits or plot ideas: “This villain's motivation is weak. Give them a tragic backstory and don’t make them redeemable.”

Low-key wants you to base a character on him but will pretend he doesn’t care.

Has a soft spot for reading your fluff pieces though and will be quietly emotional about them.

Will threaten anyone who leaves bad reviews on your work. "Just say the word. Username 'Booktoklover93'? I got 'em."

He buys you fancy notebooks and pens and acts like it's no big deal, but he's proud of himself.

# TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Absolute king of writing dates you'll both sit in a café typing furiously and sipping terrible coffee.

Helps you fact-check obscure things at 3am without complaint (okay, maybe some complaint).

If you write mystery or thrillers, he treats it like solving a real case. “Wait… that clue in chapter 5…”

He totally has a secret folder on his computer labeled “[Your Name]’s Writing – Favorite Stuff” with all your pieces saved.

You’ve accidentally inspired him to write fanfic once and he WILL take that secret to the grave.

Sends you prompts or memes like “this is so your OC.” (Sorry I just keep cringing at oc 🥲)

# DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

At first, he might not get why you write fictional stories… but then he reads them.

He's completely blown away and demands to know what happens next immediately.

Occasionally critiques your logic but ends up emotionally invested in your characters.

“Why did you kill him off?” Because it served the story—” “You’re a monster.”

Will sit next to you while you write, drawing or sketching your characters in his own style.

Has probably told Alfred he thinks you’re a genius at least once when he thought no one was listening.

# BONUS WHICH MR WAYNE! ── .✦

Loves that you're creative and has the patience of a saint when listening to you rant about plot holes.

He doesn’t read everything you write, but when he does, he’ll quote it back to you at random times like a proud husband.

“Chapter 7 really showed growth. I was impressed.”

Offers to fund your writing career or self-publishing venture without blinking. “You’ll need an editor and marketing team.” SIGN ME UP !!

He also gently reminds you to eat and sleep when you’re on a deadline: “You’ve been writing for 16 hours. Come to bed and go to sleep.”

[elliespassagerprincess]

okay HEAR ME OUT PLEASE

reader is a pop star and she gets asked what she does in her free time and she says she watches streams. the interviewer asks her who her favorite streamer is and it’s ends up being ellie. PLOT TWIST ellie finds out her #1 supporter has been reader this entire time

Heandcannons: streamer!ellie williams x popstar!reader

masterlist

☆ Despite a jam-packed touring schedule, you religiously tune into Ellie’s streams—live or playback—because her voice grounds you in a chaotic world.

☆ You first discovered her channel during a bout of post-show insomnia, and her deadpan humor instantly hooked you.

☆ You created a secret Twitch account with a low-key username just to fangirl without suspicion.

☆ You’ve sent multiple donations under aliases, each with cheeky, flirtatious messages that Ellie lowkey reads out but never realizes it’s you.

☆ You’ve used Ellie’s stream as background noise during studio sessions, claiming her voice keeps your “vocals warm.”

☆ You’ve paused interviews just to catch her going live, hiding your AirPods under your hair while nodding at journalists.

☆ Some lyrics in your last album are heavily inspired by Ellie’s sarcastic rants and niche gamer jokes—your fans think it’s about a mystery lover.

☆ You once canceled a red carpet appearance just to catch a rare dual-stream of Ellie gaming with another creator.

☆ You anonymously follow her on all alt platforms: YouTube, Discord, Twitter. You’re a mod in her Discord under a fake name.

☆ You once DMed her on your main account but chickened out and deleted it 30 seconds later.

☆ During a late-night talk show, you’re asked what you do to unwind. You casually say, “Watch this chill gamer girl who plays horror games. Her name’s Ellie.”

☆ The crowd laughs; the host teases, “A crush, maybe?” And you smile without denying it.

☆ Fans clip the moment instantly—#PopStarEllie trends within minutes.

☆ Ellie’s chat explodes when she goes live that night. Her mods can barely control the hype.

☆ At first, Ellie thinks it’s a prank or someone else with your name—until she watches the clip herself.

☆ She replays the way you say her name five times, mouth parted slightly, stunned.

☆ Ellie deep-dives your discography, suddenly realizing how many songs reference things she’s said on stream.

☆ Her obsession flips overnight—she combs through her past chat logs looking for your fake username.

☆ She notices that you’ve been her top donor for months.

☆ Ellie goes radio silent for 3 days, overwhelmed by the realization.

☆ You DM her again—this time not deleting it—just a simple: “Hi, it’s me. Hope I didn’t weird you out lol.”

☆ She doesn’t answer for two hours. Then she replies: “Is this a prank?”

☆ Once you prove it’s really you, she sends you a voice note that sounds half shocked, half flirty.

☆ You two start talking every night after your respective work. Her Twitch chat notices she ends streams faster now.

☆ Ellie makes a playlist of songs that remind her of your voice.

☆ You ask to FaceTime, and she nearly fumbles the phone out of nerves.

☆ Ellie’s stunned by how normal you are, how you just want to talk about games and music.

☆ You send her signed merch. She blushes and says she’ll never wear it—but she sleeps in your hoodie nightly.

☆ Ellie posts less and becomes more mysterious—fans think she’s hiding a girlfriend.

☆ You drop a surprise song with lyrics clearly about “a girl who doesn’t know she saved me.”

☆ You fly her out under the radar, booking a full suite with no cameras allowed.

☆ Ellie’s heart races the entire flight; she hasn’t stopped sweating since she saw your text.

☆ When you open the door, she freezes. You’re real, you’re soft, and you’re smiling only at her.

☆ You spend the weekend together—laughing, gaming, eating room service on the floor.

☆ Ellie’s too shy to touch you at first, but you make the first move—just a hand over hers while watching a movie.

☆ That night, you fall asleep on her shoulder. She doesn’t move for hours, afraid to wake you.

☆ You sing quietly to her in the dark. She almost cries.

☆ You give her a bracelet that matches yours. She never takes it off.

☆ Paparazzi catch her at the airport leaving. Headlines explode.

☆ Ellie goes live later and jokes, “Guess I like pop stars now.”

☆ Ellie writes your name in the margins of her notebooks, like she’s a teen again.

☆ You keep sneaking her backstage—your crew knows, and they adore her.

☆ Ellie starts showing up in your lyrics more clearly, fans catch on fast.

☆ She writes you short songs on her guitar, sending you voice memos at 2am.

☆ Ellie now owns every one of your vinyls. She keeps them sealed “for protection.”

☆ Your fans notice you smiling more, dressing like a tomboy. They say Ellie’s your muse.

☆ You beg her to stream one of your shows. She refuses—too shy—but watches from the wings.

☆ When you’re stressed, she sends you memes. When you’re sad, she sends you soft voice messages.

☆ You call her “your secret home.” She calls you her “checkpoint.”

☆ Ellie starts looking at apartments in LA.

☆ After months of dating secretly, you both go public via a soft Instagram post—just hands, bracelets showing.

☆ Internet breaks. Your fans explode with support. Twitch loses its mind.

☆ Ellie goes live and nervously says, “Yeah... she’s mine.”

☆ You surprise her mid-stream with a hug. Her face turns red as the chat explodes.

☆ You do a cozy “couple stream” playing Stardew Valley. You suck at it. She carries you.

☆ Ellie wears your merch on stream now. Casually.

☆ Fans beg you to collab musically—Ellie refuses at first but agrees if she can stay anonymous.

☆ You write a love song about “a girl who used to only exist through a screen.”

☆ She writes her own love letter in music form. You post it on your secret SoundCloud.

☆ Ellie has a hoodie drawer in your tour bus now.

☆ You talk about adopting a cat together—name ideas: “Pixel,” “Jpeg,” “Lyric.”

☆ Ellie builds a mini streaming setup on your tour bus.

☆ You fall asleep on calls together every night when apart. She plays you old songs.

☆ Ellie’s growing confidence is visible. She thanks you during stream anniversaries.

☆ You let her be a recluse while giving her the world in private.

☆ She starts designing your stage outfits—hoodie inspired, always soft.

☆ Ellie keeps every note you write her, every photo booth strip.

☆ She tattoos a small icon that symbolizes your first Twitch comment to her.

☆ You jokingly propose on stream with a candy ring. She cries anyway.

☆ The world may love your music, but Ellie knows—your real voice only sings for her.

[factual-fantasy]

Bonjour Factual! Sorry it's been a bit since I sent an ask, life has been pretty crazy! But I finally found the time to write and tell you how AMAZING your Transformers art these past few days have been! As I've said before, Prime is a childhood show of mine, and I'm amazed to see how well you have captured the characters personalities, and how seamlessly you've mastered drawing the designs in your art style (even if it takes time!)

Also, Im so glad you've explored the Optimus/Ratchet dynamic the show occasionally showed- and also I just wanted to point out your observation regarding Ratchet is correct! Back during the war on Cybertron, as shown in the aligned continuity prequel novels and games, Ratchet was an absolute BEAST on the battlefield, fighting right alongside Prime as both a field medic and elite warrior.

He really only took a backseat by the time he got back to Earth because his age was finally catching up to him, and because, as the last living medic/space bridge tech in the area, was too valuable to risk losing. As you pointed out, the few times he does fight in the show he proves to still be very capable, only really outclassed by the Decepticon higher ups. (So feel free to make the old man as cool as you want in any future works!)

However! Before I go, there is one thing that I must protest as a loyal Vehicon enjoyer! In your recent post, you referred to them as Drones! Among Vehicons the term "drone" is considered a derogatory term, which you'll notice some Cons like Starscream (of course) use often in the show. This is untrue! Though a lesser known fact, one I believe I've mentioned before, the Vehicons are Clones, not Drones! Every individual we see is an individual cybertronian, fighting for the Decepticon cause!

The show even confirms this in several ways! For one, if you listen closely, every single Vehicon who speaks in the show is given a unique voice actor despite their shared bodies, and many display distinct personalities- some openly loathe Starscream, while others seem to highly respect him for example. Breakdown is even seen casually chatting with one! And on the darker side of things, Ratchet of course knew he could torture one for information when on his synth rampage- and also, the spark extractor super weapon works on them, showing individual souls pulled from each helpless Vehicon! 😢

On the bright side, several go on to survive the war, and prove their individuality in the various sequel series- including the bounty hunter Shadelock, who actually had his face seemingly reconstructed to stick out from his cloned brethren:

As well as the fan favorite, Steve! Poor guy got his brain module scrambled and forgot his original name, so he just picked one off a human billboard he saw! (He also ended up turning over a new leaf, and he, alongside some other Vehicons, decided to stop fighting the Autobots, and they left on good terms)

But forgive the rant! I've Always enjoyed the Vehicons small but important role as not-so-emotionless cannon fodder in the show, and if you rewrite them as Drones that's fine by me! The new movie TF One kinda did that with the Death Trackers, who were directly inspired by the Vehicons! Regardless, I wish you a wonderful day Factual! Hope your health is holding up! ( Oh, and almost forgot, thanks a million for drawing foxy again! Still one of my favorite series of yours! Here's to hoping to see him again someday! )

Thank you so much, I appreciate all the compliments! :DD But all this Vehicon chatter feels like.. honestly like its riddled with plot holes-

The reason I say this, is because all that you said about Vehicon clones clashes with what we see with Starscreams clones in season 2 episode 10.

In this episode, Starscream walks into that lab and calls the base bodies "protoforms". But right after this he says "Lets give cloning a whirl, shall we?" And later on Megatron refers to them as "clones". So its safe to say that these 5 Starscreams are CLONES.

This is where the Starscreams clash with the Vehicons. First, they all have Starscreams exact voice. And they claim "We are as one commander." "We share your memories." "Your very feelings." "Even your insatiable quest for power." Yet despite the Vehicons ALSO being clones, they all have different voices and opinions. How?

So by extension, if they are clones and are meant to have the same feelings and opinions as each other- just like the Starscreams- then how come some of them turned Autobot, while others took pleasure in beating Orion (amnesia Optimus) down and kicking him in the face while he refused to fight? That doesn't line up with what we saw in S2 EP10.

And another point, the Vehicons had their sparks ripped out by the spark extractor. A spark is the "soul" of a Transformer. So are you saying that Cybertronians have the ability to create souls like primus did? These measly mortal bots have the ability to create literal souls and life via cloning? Talk about overpowered technology and playing God..

These few points made me lean towards other options that in my mind, make a little more sense then what we see with the Starscreams and Vehicons..

The main solution I'm leaning towards is to make them like Starscreams clones. An important point is they do NOT have sparks. They are like robots or.. dare I say drones- in the most literal sense. They all have the same voice and same mind. They were probably cloned long ago from a few specific loyal warriors that Megatron had. The originals don't exist anymore so now new sets of clones are clones of clones of clones. Which slowly degrades the quality of the clones overtime. Which is why you'll have like 10 surrounding 1 bot and NONE OF THEM land a single shot. Its because their aim and reaction time had deteriorated over the multiple clone generations.

Its also why they are so expendable and Megatron never seems to run out of them. If they don't have real sparks, they're not real people. So there is absolutely no loss to the Deceptions when they die. They can just make a copy of that exact fallen soldier over and over again. Its why the Autobots don't seem too upset when they kill all of those Vehicons and don't hesitate to hurt them.

Also Optimus could have gotten on Ratchets case when he attacked that miner because even though it's just a clone, its still a miner clone. His morals still apply to this creature. Also it doesn't have the mind or emotions of a fighter. It was afraid and wasn't designed to/couldn't protect itself. So Ratchet attacking it- despite it not being a living Cybertronian, was wrong.

Now all this to say- I'm not trying to insult Vehicons or anyone's love/opinions on them. I feel like some of my TFP views have been clashing with a lot of people lately.. I just cant help but read things wrong or get analytical or try to sniff out plot holes.

The Vehicons don't seem to make sense to me because they are nothing like Starscreams clones. And they have sparks, which shouldn't make sense.

So either I change the canon and remove their sparks and individuality to line up with the Starscreams clones, or I make them all real and individual people who would absolutely be much harder to fight then the canon Vehicons because they have real battle experience and real minds like the Autobots do. (Having real people would also cause so much more chaos in the Decepticon ranks that I don't think Megatron could keep them under control)

[honey-bell-aint-well]

I keep seeing this Loveball being mentioned in regards to fresh, but I wasn't in the fandom back then and I don't know what the fuck Loveball is and how it created fresh's character? Asking you abt it bcus you seem knowledgeable abt fresh lol

I'll have you know that when I saw this ask I cackled and rubbed my hands together evilly, completely unironically.

Unfortunately I've already rambled about this before, so I'll copy and paste the rant here rather than ranting anew:

So, like seven years ago there was a fandom-wide event called the Loveball, where people gathered their OCs and had them all attend an UTMV dancing ball. Fresh went, of course. There, he met a Frisk called Pacifrisk. Even knowing who he really was [90's parasite], they still believed he could be good. Before this, he hadn't ever really felt a connection to anyone, or even positive emotions in general. But Pacifrisk's faith in him made him feel positively towards them. This freaked him out. [No Fr@ns though, don't worry. That wasn't the intention for this plot.]

As a result, not only did he try to kill them, but he also went through with his plans: the Fresh Takeover [I forget what it's actually called]. His true reason for attending the ball. OCs were either possessed by the parasites or tried to fight against them. Apparently, some people used alcohol to ward the virus off, as Fresh hates substances such as that.

Fresh wanted to take over the multiverse, with this Loveball being the first step for his total domination.

But then right in the middle of things, a Sans AU [which I totally forget the name of X,D] grabbed Fresh and basically yeeted him into an alternate state of being. One where he could see the creators, all staring at him. An audience.

The Sans revealed the nature of Fresh's existence: That he was simply a character in a story. And if the creators got bored of him, he could easily be written aside and forgotten. Erased. His conquest didn't matter, in the end.

Predictably, this gave him an existential crisis. I'm not sure what happened after, but he stopped invading and went somewhere to contemplate his existence in a depressed state.

Afterwards, he had a new goal: To entertain. To convince the creators that he was worth keeping around. Similar to his previous goal of survival, but now with more dire stakes."

Here are some links regarding the Loveball. I recommend checking them out if you want more info about it, because I didn't really talk about it very deeply here:

https://thebonezone66.tumblr.com/post/139210779428/muffets-love-ball-roleplay

https://www.tumblr.com/bestfresh90smess [This is CQ's RP sideblog]

https://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/tagged/loveball/chrono

Hope this clears things up! :D

Edit: Oh, and Fresh wasn't created during the Loveball. He was originally an April Fool's shitpost doodle that CQ made, inspired by Dippy Fresh from Gravity Falls. Eventually he developed into the horrifying 90's abomination that we know today.

[spacelattae]

"you're dying of thirst" - the first official rant

First of all if you haven't read it, go read it rn HERE -> it's a time travel megop tfone fixit. That should be enough GO NOW I DIDN'T WRITE 144K WORDS (and climbing) FOR NOTHING <3

Now. Where do I begin.

Tfone was one of the best tf movies ever made I said what I said, simply because SO. MUCH. THOUGHT. WENT INTO IT. The animation? The graphics? The color schemes? The plot? The characters? The callbacks? THE SOUNDTRACK? HELLO?? IT WAS PERFECT GODDAMN IT.

Very few movies have inspired me to write about character relationships in such depth as I've explored in you're dying of thirst, but tfone managed to do it for me. Because what do you mean you give me the cutest friendship in the entire world, these mfs are literally always looking for an excuse to touch each other and are there for each other AND LOVE EACH OTHER (whether you think of it as platonic or romantic idc) and yet. AND YET. I was destroyed at the end. It crushed me. And at that point I hadn't even thought of transformers since literally 2015.

So obviously I had to write you're dying of thirst, and obviously I had to explore all the themes of dictatorship and propoganda and emotional turmoil and betrayal and characters twisting, and obviously I had to build on the existing parallels (ELITA AND D FOR INSTANCE? COME ON), and yeah, here it is. I'm shocked at the amount of love it's gotten but ykw I'm HERE for it.

So, anyone on the blog, I am HAPPY to answer all the questions yall have and all the discussions I want to have about thematic aspects, especially the ones that hit close to home regarding the state of the world rn if you know what I mean 🍉

SOME THINGS I WOULD LOVE TO TALK ABOUT IF ANYONE IS WILLING TO LISTEN TO MY YAP:

Dictatorship, propganda, religion, and how they all coincide with each other ; religious guilt ; innate 'others'

Darkwing and Ratchet and whatever tf is going on there (I KNOW everyone's gonna be crashing out over them)

Matter of fact everything about the Ratchet side arc and why I included it

The Wreckers ; their origins ; why they don't care about cogs, what this is inspired by ; why I decided to go that route

Jazz. Everything about my baby Jazz. Every single thing I've written about him has a reason trust.

SPARKBROTHERS. SPARKBROTHERS PLEASE GUYS.

System hehehe ; why it is the way it is ; guesses on WHAT or WHO it is

D AND HIS INNER TURMOIL HOLY SHIT

The slight amount of shattered glass vibes Orion is giving now and why it's NOT ACTUALLY SHATTERED GLASS BUT RATHER SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY

Everyone being somewhat morally gray

Elita being what D could have been if he didn't let his anger rule him ; their similar values and principles

Matter of fact why the decepticons had SOME GOOD POINTS and why the rule of war is that no one is totally good

FAMILY. FAMILY. FAMILYYYYYYYY!!!!

Sentinel literally inventing racism like bro

To my lovely loyal readers, yall know who you are, thank you for inspiring me to get this far and hopefully go further!!

[chipmunkfanno1love]

How Tails and Knuckles *could* react to Sonamy in the SCU?

I've been considering a number of possible theories to how Tails and Knuckles will react to Sonic and Amy's -obvious to all but them-chemistry in the SCU. Let's just say I've got two very opposing points of view of where they could go with this plot line and how they'll also develop Amy's sisterly relationship with both Tails and Knuckles.

I give some credit to @ficsinhistory (@redlikerosesandflowers) for inspiring some of my theories here and also @lucidheart3 in whose discussion and theories inspired some of my own as well.

Option 1:

Option 1 is an option that I'm sure most fans agree with as I've heard them share similar thoughts themselves (I believe @wherearedagrapes might be one of them). That Sonic doesn't warm up to Amy at first, either because he doesn't immediately trust her and/or he dislikes her take-charge attitude of acting like she's taking over as leader of his team. He's probably annoyed with her bossy attitude, intimidated at having competition for leadership, and possibly even jealous because he feels that his brothers like her more than they like him.

Tails immediately is taken by Amy's affectionate nature, her street smarts and because she's interested in his love tinkering and has almost as good a knowledge of technology as he has. Knuckles is a little slower to impress as he assumes that Amy is going to be "a scared little girl with a toy hammer", but Amy is quick to prove she's as strong and as capable of a fighter as he is, and that he shouldn't be quick to judge her by her cute and feminine appearance. Let's just say that Knuckle is very quickly impressed by Amy's strength and courage. He'll probably repeat Thor's impressed and blunt statement "I like this one."

You can watch the whole video but encourage you to watch 0:45 to 1:06 as the example of how I see Knuckles and Amy's first interaction. *Warning* - Course language at the end of the video:

I could see Sonic and Amy constantly bickering and butting heads, leaving the family to remark that two sound like an old married couple. I could see Sonic going into a long and irritated rant about how annoying he finds the pink hedgehog, though in that rant there are some pretty clear hints of Sonic's in-denial attraction to Amy, which Tails and Knuckles are quick to pick up on and tease him about.

Eventually Sonic and Amy learn to work together and soon a friendship based on empathy and mutual understanding grows between them. It's from there that it becomes clear that mutual feelings are growing between them, as scary and confusing as it is to Sonic and even Amy at first.

I encourage you to read the link here to my reply to @lucidheart3's discussion page as it gives some written and video examples of how I imagine Sonic's rants about Amy sounding like and Tails and Knuckles brotherly teasing of Sonic would look like:

Option 2:

For this option I imagine that Amy doesn't meet Tails and Knuckles until the middle of the film and by that time her and Sonic have already had some time to bond and work together as a team against the Metal Sonic duplicates. They've had time to form a friendship in their short time together.

When Sonic is finally reunited with his brothers, they aren't immediately impressed with how taken Sonic seems with Amy. Knuckles is annoyed that Sonic is letting his head get turned round by a pretty girl (though he admits she's an impressive fighter) and is concerned that he'll let his obvious new feelings for Amy distract him in his responsibilities as leader of their tribe.

I reckon this famous scene from The Lion King could be a great example of Sonic and Amy's growing feelings for each other and their conflicted emotions as a result. I would exclude the diving into the water part though as Sonic is terrified of water. Maybe him running through a field of flowers and scattering the pollen could work instead.

Tails and Knuckles could act the part of Timon and Pumbaa being concerned that their adoptive brother falling in love could mean the end of their team:

I imagine Tails in particular acting jealous of Sonic paying so much attention to Amy. Though what really hits him hard is when Amy says to Sonic "We really make a good team, Sonic. You know...you and I could really do great things back home. Do you think...you'd might consider...coming back with me?" Sonic replies in such a way that sounds like he's considering Amy's offer and Tails -who overhears the conversation- is devastated and runs away in tears at the thought of losing his beloved big brother and best friend.

It could be a moment where we see even more of Tails' angstier side and the side with a fear of losing his family and being abandoned. It could also be a moment where Amy goes to find Tails and the two end up in a dangerous situation in which they have to work together to get out of it alive. It's a moment where they have to learn to trust each other and where the first sparks of their little brother and big sister bond begins to grow. These moments in Brother Bear 2 between Koda and Nita could be a very loose example:

Of course, the real tender moment happens when Sonic and Tails are reunited and Tails cries out of fear of losing Sonic, saying: "You can't leave! Our team...it wouldn't be the same without you! You're our leader! (tearfully) Please...don't leave...you're my best friend, Sonic. You're my brother. We need you. I need you."

Sonic comfortingly puts his hand on Tails' shoulder and says with confidence "I'm not going anywhere, buddy. I'll never abandon my family. Not ever." The two brothers embrace each other in a warm hug and eventually Knuckles goes to join them with the promise that they'll always be there for each other. Amy looks on fondly, if a bit wistfully, knowing that Sonic has to stay with his family...and soon...she must sadly leave him.

Amy builds her sisterly bond with both Tails and Knuckles and by the time she has to say goodbye to them, she's pretty much in tears. They all (particularly Sonic) try to encourage Amy to stay with them, she says as much as she would love to stay, she knows that she has to return to her home world to rebuild it after Metal Sonic's defeat. As she bids goodbye to them, Tails gives Amy a special phone with a special antenna that enables her to video call them from other planets and galaxies (and hopefully realms). He asks her to promise to keep in touch and to visit them whenever she can. Amy responds with "You know I will." and two affectionately hug. She also says her goodbyes to Knuckles, Tom, Maddie and even Ozzy (with lots of licks, cuddles and pats.)

As Sonic is about to say goodbye to Amy, Tails whispers "You know, Sonic, if you want to go with Amy...that's okay. No matter what...we'll always be a team. A family." Knuckles also gives an encouraging nod. Tom and Maddie are less convinced but tell Sonic to do what is best for him.

Sonic, as much as he's going to miss Amy, knows he can't leave his family, and sadly tells Amy that he's needed here. She nods and says she understands. The two say their bittersweet goodbye, promising that no matter how far apart they are, deep down they'll always be together.

I'm using this scene from Disney's Pocahontas as reference of how I very loosely see this scene playing out. If this movie is considered offensive to any of you then please don't feel obliged to watch the clip. Obviously, I don't see it being exactly the same (I imagine Amy pecking Sonic on the cheek, hugging him, and understanding why they have to part ways), but I imagine the bittersweetness of the goodbye still being the same:

I'd love to hear your thoughts via comments and/or the poll. Any feedback is certainly appreciated.

[newlondohollow]

I FUCKING HATE RINGS OF POWER

On fuckass adaptations (i like the castlevania anime) (heavy ranting below)

This is ASTRONOMICALLY random as it’s barely about Castlevania and more about something i normally don’t post about but I’ve been keeping this topic inside me for far far too long. 

I fucking despise, as much as i am humanly capable to bear pure hatred, Rings of Power. I always see people complaining about the “Netflixvania” adaptations being terrible, and I do agree that they’re not accurate to the games, but heavens gracious those people have NOT seen what an actual bad adaptation is like. Sure, Castlevania got an inaccurate adaptation, but at least the adaptation, considered as its own piece of media, is decent. good even. Not the greatest thing ever written or that I've ever seen but it was, objectively, well written and animated.

Unlike that jackass shit filled abhorrent abominacion by goddamn Amazon DestroyingArtPrime that is Rings of Power. I don’t mean to hate on people who enjoy it, not at all, but to those who do, I am begging you please raise your standards, honey you deserve better than that. So. So. SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER MAN.

Every single thing about that series pisses me off in ways I wasn't even aware I could be pissed off until my parents forced me to watch it with them because “well it’s lord of the rings!!”. I did enjoy spending time with them (though i was literally, physically coerced to do so) but i so fucking wish we had spent it watching something better cuz the whole experience was beyond frustrating. The fact that it no joke is the most expensive series ever made? Are we being for real?? One. Goddamn. Million. of dollars went into creating that fucking insult to not only Tolkien’s poor dead ass, but to cinema and the art of moviemaking itself. Every single scene is so obviously, clearly edited and oversaturated with after effects and I could count on one hand the scenes that were recorded without a greenscreen. The costumes seriously look like Halloween and Carnival props a single mom on a budget would buy to her kids and I’m not even exaggerating I so very mean it it’s true just LOOK AT THEM VRO SOME OF THEM HAVE PRINTS ON THEM PRINTSSSSSS THEYRE SO OBVIOUS AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE HEAVILY INSPIRED BY MEDIEVAL CLOTHING DAWG I CAN'T DO THIIIIIIIIIIS. Do you think it ends there? NO IT FUCKING DOESNT IT GETS SO MUCH WORSE. If the visual aspects of it were the only thing bad about it i wouldn't be here dumping a textwall but good god merciful above the writing is genuinely enraging. Like its not just personal pet peeves or small stuff level of frustrating, no it’s ENRAGING. Every character is both incredibly arrogant and rude and fucking stupid, yes even the good guys, EXPECIALLY the good guys, actually. The plot is as compelling as one of Jeff Bezos’ shit stained ass hairs and the dialogue is so dogshit and senseless i dont even know how delusional and self centered you have to be to sit down, write that, hear it being acted out and think “ah yes this is a great script”, that goes for the making of the whole series as well.

I won't sit here and explain why exactly it all sucks as i said cuz there’s plenty of youtube videos that do so (sadly some of them are fucking filled with bigotry i want to shoot myself) and i will instead move on to what pisses me of the most.

Some lunatics are actually, seriously saying that RoP has the same vibes as Peter Jackson’s movies.

Yes the same movies that are considered a cinematic masterpiece and classic, the same movies that won awards over awards over awards, the same movies that inspired every single fantasy movie that came after them. I’m well aware they aren’t accurate to the books either, but again, like Castlevania’s first anime, they are GOOD. They are great in fact, and no one can say otherwise without being objectively wrong. That trilogy’s vibes will never ever be reached or equated again, for the very simple reason that art and passion are fucking withering away in today’s world. The costumes for that set of movies were hand manufactured and weathered by the actors themselves CLIMBING UP MOUNTAINS. The weapons used were REAL. REAL, METAL FORGED WEAPONS. VIGGO MORTENSEN ALMOST GOT AN ACTUAL DAGGER THROUGH HIS FACE BECAUSE THE ORC’S ACTOR MISSED. AND YES HE DID BREAK HIS TOE BECAUSE THE HELM HE KICKED WAS REAL, EVERYTHING THAT COULD BE REAL IN THOSE MOVIES WAS. BOOKS, MAPS, EVERYTHING. ALMOST EVERY SCENE OF LANDSCAPES WAS SHOT IN NEW ZEALAND, A REAL PLACE. 

Tolkien hated the idea of someone adapting his works, yet i am certain that if he would have seen the Peter Jackson movies, knowing that they were made out of sincere passion and love for his works and as a tribute to it and him, he would have appreciated them. He certainly is rolling in his grave because of RoP though. It’s not just bad, it's soulless. Completely hollow. Filled to the brim with sfx and fake props, even the musical score composed by the same composer who made the Lotr trilogy’s score just sounds plain, not because it’s bad but because it so clearly belongs to something better than that. RoP wasn’t made out of passion for Lotr it was made for mere profit. One of the directors fucking made fun of a Silmarillion fan who simply asked a question about the goddamn Fëanorian crest, in public, for everyone to see. Those people aren’t Tolkien fans, they're soulless evil corporate pigs, they’re everything Tolkien, and I personally, despised and despise. 

It genuinely makes me so sad that, as badly recieved as it was, many series and movies AND HELL EVEN BOOKS AND GAMES are eerily like RoP these days, the death of art we’re witnessing is soul crushing and concerning.

[fangirl-writes]

What Are We? (F-R-I-E-N-D-S Part 2)

John B. Routledge x Fem!Reader

Part One

Warning(s): swearing, angst

Notes: So I've been asked for a part two to this and I wasn't intending to do one, but I was struck with inspiration and since it's been asked I thought I'd might as well deliver. Don't expect a third part or a happy ending here, unfortunately folks.

Summary: In the never ending drama of John B. and Sarah Cameron, we've reached the cheating plot. Angry and heartbroken, John B. seeks out his old "friend" once again.

Getting cheated on sucks.

There was no other way to describe it. No matter how much John B. wanted to rant and rave and scream at the world for putting him in this situation, he truly had nothing to say.

So, he punched Topper. He punched him down until Kie’s dad and JJ pulled him off. And the asshole didn't even fight back.

So, he ran away. Storming off, away from Sarah. Away from the girl he thought loved him.

And, in a twisted, selfish act, he went where he always went when he was hurt.

Up that familiar driveway.

He knew it was stupid. But it was like there was a magnetic pull to her that activated whenever he was upset.

Like he was grasping for even a wisp of what he had before his dad left him. Of what it was like before the treasure hunt began.

He needed her.

He needed her care and understanding. He needed her to yell at him so he could yell back. He needed her to cry so he could remind himself that he was a fuck-up, too.

He circled around to the back of the house and faced the bricks that led up to her window.

The curtain was down, but the screen hadn't been popped back in.

A small bit of hope bubbled in him at the sight. If the screen wasn't back in, maybe that meant she was waiting for him.

John B. crawled right up to the window and tapped their secret rhythm on the glass.

He waited a minute, then two.

When there was still no response, he tried the window, surprised to find it unlocked, and slid it up.

He moved the curtain to the side and poked his head in to find the room dark and empty.

Where was she?

He climbed into the room, nonplussed by the breaking and entering, he was practically an expert at it by now.

"Y/N?" he whispered to the clearly empty room.

He leaned over and turned on the lamp at her bedside table, illuminating the room in a bright orange glow.

The familiar space popped into view, everything the same as it was when he was there last.

Same unmade bed they sat on, same pillows she threw at him...

He sunk onto the bed.

He had so many memories in that room. So many better memories, but now all he can think about it the tears in her eyes.

John B. took a deep breath, blinking back his own tears.

Was it karma? Did he deserve everything Sarah was doing because he'd been such an asshole to Y/N? Was this the heartbreak she felt when he left her?

The door creaked open, and his head snapped up, fearing it was one of her parents.

But it wasn't. It was Y/N.

...dressed really pretty.

She stood there with her arms crossed and a frown on her lips.

"You should really lock your window, some creep could crawl in through it."

She rolled her eyes. "What, you need someone to clean the blood off your hands?"

John B. flushed. "You know about that?"

"Well, I didn't expect you to notice, but I was there. Kiara's actually still my friend, you know."

He dropped his gaze to his hands, realizing that he did, in fact, have blood on his hands.

Y/N sighed, moving into the room, dropping her bag on her desk chair and grabbing a towel from her bathroom before sitting next to him.

"Here."

She held the damp towel out to him, and he took it, wiping his hands off.

"...you look beautiful."

"Don't. What are you doing here?" She snapped.

"I...I don't know," he said. "I just...need someone that understands."

A beat.

Then, “I’m sorry you got cheated on.”

John B. looked up at her.

She wouldn't meet his eyes, the anger still stewing in her, but she'd granted him some levity, considering the situation.

“I guess I sort of deserve it,” he replied. “After the way I treated you.”

Y/N shrugged. “Yeah, but, like, you almost died for her…multiple times. You’d have thought-“

“My dad’s alive.”

Her head snapped to look at him, eyes wide. “What? I thought Ward-“

“I did, too. Guess it didn’t stick.”

“What- John B. that’s amazing…isn’t it?”

He didn’t look like it was amazing. He looked like he was gonna be sick, actually.

“It was…it's supposed to be, but now he’s got me lying to my friends, and he got captured by some guys who’re taking him to South America-“

“South America?”

It was hard to remember that Y/N hadn't been there the whole time. That she couldn't just roll with whatever insane shit he was going through. She truly had no idea what he was talking about.

John B. sighed, pulling on his hair. “Can we just- forget it? For now?”

“Sure,” Y/N said. “So, I’ll ask again. What are you doing here, John B.?”

He raised his head and took a deep breath. “I just came where I always go when I’m hurt.”

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess you do. That's how it was before..."

Before he'd fucked their entire relationship.

John B. wondered if, had his dad never disappeared, they'd be dating right now.

Maybe. But he hadn't gotten his head out of his ass long enough to ask her before it all. And when he got a push, instead of running into her arms, he ran away.

"I didn't apologize for that, last time," John B. said. "I'm sorry I fucked up so badly."

"You really did," Y/N said. "I loved you, you know?"

"You won't believe me, but I loved you, too."

"What changed?"

It was a hard question. One he wasn't even sure he knew the answer to.

"I guess I did."

Y/N looked at her hands. "Did you just...outgrow me?"

That hurt, too. Something that should have been a crazy thought, something that never would have crossed his mind a year ago. Him and Y/N were forever.

Until they weren't.

"I...I guess I did."

John B. noticed her blinking back tears and felt his heart ache.

"Please don't cry," he whispered. "I'm not worth it."

"You don't know," she replied, strained. "You don't know how much I cried when you left. When I thought you died. As much as I hate you for ditching me, I still care about you. A lot."

It made him feel worse, again. She never cried, but she cried over him.

"I know I've been stupid. And selfish. And a horrible guy, but...do you think we can start over? Be friends?"

Y/N shook her head. "Come see me again when you've gotten over this Sarah thing and...we'll see, okay?"

It hurt, the rejection, but he understood.

"Is your phone number still the same?" he asked.

She gave him a confused look. "Yeah, why?"

"Can I call you? I think a late night phone chat is overdue."

She laughed through her nose and he smiled.

"Yeah. I guess that would be okay."

He had so many questions he wanted to ask her. To get to know her again. But now wasn't the time.

He was hurt, she was hurt.

It was gonna be a while before they could get back to how they were, if ever.

God, he'd fucked up so bad.

"You better go before my parents find you," she said.

John B. knew that wouldn't happen. In all the years he'd been sneaking through her window, they'd never as much as come upstairs, let alone come into her room to find him.

But it was her polite way of asking him to leave.

"Okay," he said, standing up, handing her the towel back. "Thanks for...letting me clean the blood off my hands."

"Hey, no problem."

He slid her window back up and threw a leg over the sill. "Seriously, though, lock this? There are freaks in this world."

She laughed again, out loud this time. "Your the only freak who's ever tried to climb in that window, trust me."

It gave him an odd sense of solace in that. Knowing he was the only one she'd snuck in.

It was another selfish thought. But that one he'd let himself have.

"Good night," he said, smiling softly at her.

"Good night, John B. Good luck with your dad."

Oh, shit. He'd actually almost forgotten about his dad. Which was horrible, but he just nodded and slipped out.

Now. How does one get to South America on short notice?

[greyonelost]

I wish I have seen it sooner

I was watching some interviews with tony gilroy hoping to find at least some solace, that it wasn't all just pure cruelty, only to have my hopes shattered.

This is another long rant, but I needed to get it out.

In retrospect, I should have seen it coming. And I did. They were open about it from the beginning, but I guess I didn't want to believe it. I liked Syril and Dedra so much, that even though I knew there is little chance for them to get a happy ending, I never expected that they would be treated with such cruelty.

Already in interviews about the season one arcs, they were open about deliberately making you root for Dedra with the thing about her being a woman in a man's world, trying to earn respect, only to then make you to question your support for her with that torture scene. And this really was the intent, she was supposed to be likeable in the beginning - standing up to sexism in the workplace, uncovering rebel plots, showing initiative and ingenuity, earning the respect of her superior, being a devoted employee and a good boss to her assistant.

And then she tortures Bix and she is enjoying it. Again, there was nothing accidental about it. They makers said, that this was what they were aiming for. The idea was to make you feel bad about having sympathy for her. They wanted to specifically hurt the people who felt for and rooted for her.

And they repeated this tactic in season 2. Her arc started with her being forced to take on a project to genocide the population of an entire planet. You see her trying to refuse and having doubts about it, but she is shown her place. You see the glimpse of humanity and you are still rooting for her.

Then you see her and Syril having the harmonious, awkward, based on mutual respect relationship, that only two emotionally damaged and starved people could have. It just makes you like them. And they are showing you Dedra defending her pure, romanticly inclined, idealistic partner from his emotionally abusive mother and you cheer for her.

And this is exactly what Gilroy did with Dedra in season one - he humanised her, made you feel and root for her, only to then turn it around, stomp it and tell you she is bad and it hits harder because you did like her.

And in case you refused to see it in season one, they repeated the message in season 2, but they made sure to make you really feel it this time. They humanised Dedra again only to then give her the most cruel punishment of all the fascists in the entire show.

And keep in mind, that they could have given this character, that was meant to be made an example of, any personality, they could have made her repulsive, but they chose to make her a woman starved for recognition, highly competent, with a strong character, who commanded respect, who was an ambitious, proud, underappreciated, awkward, lonely, emotionally damaged, earnest and intelligent outsider, not fitting in. Dedra Meero's flaws made her relatable to a certain type of women and her qualities were what they have always aspired to. And then she found the one equally damaged, emotionally starved and serious person she made a connection with, which was another wish fulfilment fantasy. To see it all in a single character in your favourite sci-fi universe was inspirational and really spoke to you. Any message about her being one of the bad guys faded into the background. And again, she was meant for slaughter. And this is the personality they carefully chose and crafted to have mentally destroyed at the end of the show.

Now about the videos and articles, that finally destroyed my last attempts at deluding myself.

At first gilroy does sound like he has empathy for them both. In that Colbert interview, starting from minute 11:39, he does say, that what happens to Dedra and Syril is painful and there are victims on both sides. But he also compares them to Wile E. Coyote, saying they are the last to get joke they are about to get fucked.

He also sounded nice in the interview they posted on the official star wars channel, where in a response to a fan saying she is heart-broken about how Syril and Dedra ended up and asking if this was the intent (from minute 21:26), gilroy said, that the answer is unambiguously yes and that you are supposed to feel bad about them.

It appeared he has some empathy for them both, but the differences emerge when he talks about them separately. When he talks about them as an unit, there is some empathy but he's somehow distant, like he doesn't want to elaborate. But when he talks about Dedra and Syril separately, you see how very different his attitude to each of them is.

In this other interview with these two guys he talks at length how bad he felt about Syril and how now he is free to openly show his affection for the character and that he feels very sad for him (from minute 33:07).

These guys were pretty comfortable asking about the Bix/Cassian relationship, saying there is beauty, romance and sadness to it, and gilroy did describe them as the utilitarian version of soulmates (from minute 26:54). There is this other thing he said about Bix, that really rubbed me the wrong way, about women being generally more "spiritually tropic", meaning they are more inclined towards astrology.

And then they all become really uncomfortable when they got to talking about Dedra and the relationship between her and Syril (from minute 34.04). And when they asked about her, all gilroy had to say was something vague about her having chaos within her and that he doesn't want to tell how she feels, even though he had a lot to say how Syril feels and that he made sure to point out Syril is a romanticist and that he feels bad for him. But when it comes to talking about Dedra's humanity, we see gilroy getting vague and distanced, saying he can't define their relationship and how she feels about him. Yet, he did call her a replication of an alpha predator and the empire.

And there is this other interview by this guy, whom I immediately liked because he wasn't embarrassed to say that he had sympathy for both Syril and Dedra and that he liked their relationship (from 33:12). First gilroy agreed with him, but then he proceeded to talk only about Syril, about him being a romantic, with a loud fantasy life. But when it comes to Dedra, she is only reduced to what she means to Syril - again, she is an emotional alpha predator who represents the empire. No word about her thoughts, feelings, what matters to her, about her humanity, struggles or conflict.

And then there are the articles.

In this one they are pretty blunt:

"While Andor showrunner Tony Gilroy told DECIDER last week that he felt “terribly sorry” for Syril, he laughed off what happens to Dedra in the Disney+ show’s series finale, noting that he thinks her ultimate fate is even “worse than death.”

“I think once we got our hands on the Narkina prison system, her fate was sealed,” Andor creator and showrunner Tony Gilroy said with a chuckle. “I think once we started building that, and once we had it up, and we were looking at it, there was a lot of decision-making, there was a lot of time to think about it. I was like, ‘You know what? Narkina’s worse than death, I think.'”

And this one is about how sorry gilroy felt for Syril, giving him humanity and describing him as a victim, a romantic and a fantasist. But when it comes to Dedra, she is again a villain who is playing him. No word about how she feels about Syril or about her inner confict about not telling him about the Ghorman project, that is eating her. Only some lines about her having chaos in her and a need to be in charge. Her humanity is not explored. Only Syril is humanised and she is the ice queen taking advantage of him.

And lastly in this vanity fare interview gilroy calls Dedra's ending in narkina a "fate worse than death" that is "the fitting result of her monkey business". They talk about the ultimate insult of her being discarded by the empire, that brutally uses whatever energy she has left in that prison. Again, there is no sympathy from gilroy, only the usual line about the empire esting its own. And he talks about the decision to put the cruel, diminishing (yes, they did use those words) interrogation by krennic in the room "from the first time when they bring Syril in to be interrogated in the first season. Dedra and Kyle had their first date in that box, basically. Again, we were like, “Man, let’s hang on to that.”"

They keep talking about the message of fascism/authorianism/the empire eating its own and that there are victims on both sides, but somehow the most cruel punishment is reserved for the woman who is the most authoritative, ambitious, proud, independent and commands the most respect. While they remain silent about her humanity in interviews. And I hate it.

[parksunghoonism]

rant about @/drunkhazed.

If you haven’t seen yet, a writer—a real person—on this app, here, in this godforsaken place, posted a teaser to a fanfiction she was writing that would be about the k-pop group Enhypen. Now, you may be wondering, ‘Well, what’s so wrong with a teaser?’ What’s wrong about the teaser is the fact that the fanfiction was quote ‘inspired’ by the real life case of Lyle and Erik Menendez.

Yes. About the two brothers who went through emotional and sexual abuse by their own father. Yes. About the two brothers that while being traumatized, their own mother stood by and did nothing to protect her own children.

This person says in their most recent post: “My original plot was based around 1 member only, but after watching documentaries about the case, I was inspired to make this a story about brothers.”

So, what you’re saying is, you fucking knew about the case beforehand, and yet still chose to start writing the fic. So, what you’re saying is, even after gaining more knowledge about the case, you again still chose to continue to start writing the fic, and in doing so, chose to even develop it more.

Oh, and another thing, this person also says: “I am behind the brothers 10,000% personally, and hope for their peace.”

Now, someone explain to me this, because maybe I’m a little stupid, maybe I’m the one who just can’t understand and I’m simply being a judgmental prick. But, why would someone write a fanfiction inspired by the trauma of people who they say they hope for peace for? Because you’re actively using their past to write fanfiction about more real people.

Currently, the brothers, Lyle and Erik Menendez, are 56 and 53 years old. They were first arrested back in 1990 when they were 21 and 18 years old. That means, the brothers have spent damn near half of their lives as criminals, and they were going to die as criminals after they were given a life sentence.

Finally, in the replies of this post, this person had told another commenter under a reply—of which I cannot see, because the original poster removed it: “There is nothing else to be said.” With this ‘😐’ emoji added at the end.

Yes, there is.

Why do claim to ‘apologize’ when you remove replies? Why do you claim to ‘apologize’ when you’re going to delete the post? Why do you claim to ‘apologize’ when half of the replies in which people are rightfully calling you out, you have removed? Why do you claim to apologize when you are later going to delete the said ‘apology’? You’re not apologetic, you’re doing damage control.

Moving on, how is people seeing your face relevant to the fact that you’re trying to apologize about something? I seriously don’t get that, and I doubt that needed to be said, unless you were trying to gain some sort of sympathy from other people.

My final point, and quote: “Everything else being thrown in, is truly just slanderous, and hate to say—bullying.”

Now, what I am about to say, is going to be a tad vulgar, so, if you don’t like that, I apologize, but, I am incredibly upset at the time that I am writing this.

Nobody, in their right god damn mind, gives an actual fuck if you feel like you’re being bullied, when you were fully aware of what you were doing, when you decided to write your shitty-ass ‘work.’ You, yes you, chose to continue to write your stupid fucking fanfiction, even after you had learned more about the case of Lyle and Erik Menendez.

Because while you’re talking out of your ass on the internet, those two poor men have to sleep in a disgusting cell, while their families beg and plead for their release.

You knew what you were doing. You just did not care. And that, makes you an absolute pathetic excuse of a human being in my eyes.

— Have a nice day everyone. ❤️

[thamepo]

Hello there, do you mind sharing your favorite bls of 2024? Thanks!

hi! honestly i suck at keeping track of shows and ranking them asdfghjkl i want to keep better track next year tho and maybe even make some celebratory gifsets but we shall see!

and since you asked for it, i decided to check mdl and do a deep dive on which shows have aged well in my mind and score lmao

my top rated dramas of 2024 are:

love for love’s sake

my only 5 stars drama of the year. doesn’t surprise me at all. this show took me completely my storm at the beginning of the year. it has such a compelling story and it’s so efficient on so many levels. but most importantly, it sticks the landing. it gives closure to a story that wasn’t even finished. and it does so well. the definition of lightning in a bottle!

love in the big city

this show made me feel emotions unknown to humanity so i get my rating asdfghjkl felt really personal to me. it is also incredibly efficient and very necessary!

knock knock boys!

i said it halfway through its run and i’ll say it again: one of the best bls of 2024. no wonder i rated it this high asdfghjkl within its premise it promised very little and delivered soooo much with some incredible takes. while i love when bls do new things, to me a story told well is fantastic regardless of how cliché it might be to some. and knock knock boys manages to feel very familiar but also very refreshing with the way it handled some topics. super funny and it stuck the landing to me. in a completely different way from love for love’s sake but very satisfying!

jack & joker: u steal my heart!

this is the thai bl of the year to me. for all the conversations it started, interesting characters, refreshing plot and also for existing purely on the love and dedication of its creators. while it is not perfect, i do hope that when we look back on 2024, we see it as the year of jack and joker

century of love

i’ve loved daouoffroad since love in translation. i was a bit skeptical of century of love at first but i ended up loving it a lot. i’m also not surprised at all this made my top 5 asdfghjkl

now i would like to add a few shows that haven’t finished airing yet but had most of their run in 2024 and i’m pretty sure they’re going to be in top rated dramas

miseinen (our youth)

it is the japanese bl of the year to me. hands down. i could rant but at the same time i have no words asdfghjkl this show goes beyond efficiency or even sticking the landing (which i hope they do), but it’s the whole vibe. because while incredibly sad, you can see how much love and care exists in it. the characters are so alive and so complex and beautiful and godddd i love them. 10/10 no notes

see your love

came out of nowhere promising very little and delivered one of the best bls of 2024 imo. i don’t even remember when was the last time i felt compelled to gif a taiwanese bl but this show is sooo inspiring and fun and important. i just love it

caged again

this show promised nothing except wacky plot and delivered such a hilarious and compelling and heartfelt story. i love when i get these little surprises. shall live on in my heart

honorable mentions:

let's eat together, aki and haru 2: more please!

my only other 5 stars of the year. but it’s a movie so i didn’t include it up there. still. it’s a nearly flawless execution of a beautiful genre that i love: queer stories revolving around food and domesticity. it delivered exactly what it promised efficiently and i loooooove it so much!!!!!

sugar dog life

also came out of nowhere promising nothing and delivered a really solid little story, also revolving around food and domesticity. can you tell i’m biased lmao

the rebound

BALL IS LIFE!!!!!! we need more bls about sports. asap. we don’t have enough!!!! and this show was a surprise to me. i ended up super invested for the most part and i do think it stands out in the tiny little corner of bl sports therefore it deserves an honorable mention

blue canvas of youthful days

chinese bls always have a special place in my heart for fighting so hard to exist. this one is no exception. it got taken down when it first started airing and i’m glad they managed to release all of it eventually. it’s far from being perfect but i was still thoroughly invested in it. i love the main couple with my entire heart. and i’m soooooo grateful they got their happy ending!!

monster next door

as a deeply introverted person, this is the representation i needed asdfghjkl it felt refreshing and a conversation worth having about respecting introverts and other people’s ways of living. plus diew is autistic to me (source: i’m autistic) and it was an overall good show!!! bigpark my beloveds!!

and that’s it! thank you for asking 💕

[katoodlez]

Thunderbolts* SPOILERS

this is a critique rant not a hate rant, ive been really excited to see it and liked the movie a lot i just felt like it needed something *extra*--ANYWAYS moving on

hi once again i am defrosting this blog from cryofreeze (winter soldier joke intended) to rant about winter soldier related things aka thunderbolts* this time (no this isnt just because i am a bucky stan)

also known as very sleep deprived english degree grad unleashing an analysis worm

OKAY sO-- i watched thunderbolts. it was good. the promos were better and whoever did them should get a hefty raise.

HOWEVER. despite the vibes of a great superhero action movie all being there, i think the main thing that this movie (and quite frankly most of marvel's recent new projects) is missing is good, solidly grounded characters and plot.

what do i mean by this? i mean characters who are fully immersed into the universes in which they operate, who interact with other people/elements of their world and face consequences and suffer collateral damage--either to themselves or loved ones/others--from the environment around them for their actions. in other words, despite being superhumans, i would like to see superhero protagonists who wrestle with push and pull factors from the solely "human" half of their universes, and their selves.

i said this was going to be a bucky post so it IS a bucky post, and i believe he's a prime example of a lack of groundedness in thunderbolts. ik a lot of people aren't sure how to feel about marvel's storyline decision to make him a congressman in CABNW, but i think one thing for sure is that they brought the congressman plotline elephant into the room and then proceeded to do everything in their power to ignore it. in the movie, he spends about 30 minutes within the system (the government) and then decides to up and leave it to go commit shenanigans with a bunch of outcast anti-hero renegades. and seemingly with little to no backlash or even response from the government that he's supposed to be working for. there's a moment where he decides not to bring in the rest of the thunderbolts as evidence to his congress friend (i forgot the dude's name) but aside from that there's no follow up between the government and bucky at all, not to ask for the evidence, nothing. not saying that the government in the movie is the "correct" party, based on valentina's character alone its obvious that the movie is deliberately trying to point out corruption, but to the eyes of the human public in the movie universe, the government still holds some kind of power (as can be seen at the end of the film where valentina is still able to leverage government power to cover up how the thunderbolts appeared in public.)

a pretty good contrast to how this movie handles the relationship between superheroes and real-world inspired human institutions (which superheroes either work for or against, or its complicated) would be how previous marvel movies handled similar situations, notably moments like natasha going to capitol hill at the end of CATWS and confronting the press/government officials. there's the idea of accountability being demanded for actions taken. while the first two avengers movies only briefly hint at human institutions attempting to control superheroes (nick fury and the world council), CACW brings it all to a head when the fight over the sokovia accords breaks out, precisely because the superheroes now have to wrestle with the collateral damage dealt to humanity as a result of their actions (which could be perceived as crimes. team iron man's pov in the movie is a good example of this consideration.) heck even later on, between TFATWS and CABNW, sam wilson constantly wrestles with the pressure of the government's influence upon his superhero identity as captain america. (side note but i really appreciate sam's character for this exact reason--his groundedness)

i'm not saying that superheroes need to be constantly reminded of their accountability to the institutions that are brought from the audience's reality into the film's--however, i believe there needs to be a balance--"groundedness"--for superhero films to remain appealing to the viewer. the concept of a superhero involves two parts: the super part, and the human part, and especially for the MCU, we find and relate to these characters because they look like us, and operate within a world that is like our own. unlike the case with fantasy-based movies like star wars, harry potter, or dystopian sci-fi worlds like that of the hunger games and divergent, viewers of superhero movies have a meta cognitive awareness that the world we see on the screen is our world, our present time--just with something extra added in. superheroes in the MCU are simply another element of everyday life, one that everyone is aware of and more or less accepts the existence of (for better or worse lol.) sometimes superheroes decide that they want to cooperate with real-world institutions, and sometimes maybe the lesson is that they should not, and should stand up against even that which is taught to be right because their morals guide them towards what they believe to be the greater good (team cap's pov in CACW.) whatever the case or conclusion might be, my point is that the very struggle of that decision is critical to make the superhero's story tangible and relatable to the viewer. as viewers, we want to see ourselves in superheroes, and we want to see part of their powers in ourselves as well, and to accomplish that aspect of the genre's appeal, it is necessary for the audience to see superheroes fighting our battles along with us.

in terms of how this movie DID address this well, i thought the greater themes of mental health portrayed through void/sentry's character were really powerful, conveying the scarily overpowering and crushing wave of darkness that can engulf us in our lower moments. the way the team managed to help bob defeat the void was a perfect combination of kick-ass action while also ultimately revealing that darkness isn't something that can be punched down (pun intended), but something that required a different kind of strength to defeat and heal. i think yelena was a good vessel to deliver this storyline since her character (unlike bucky and even walker) has no significant ties to "real world" issues in this film. but this just brings me back to how i wish we also saw more of the others' perspectives while they were in the void. that alone i feel would have contributed a greater aspect of groundedness to the team as a whole, to see them confront their most human and vulnerable moments.

anyways i might continue these thoughts in another post, im reaching like 21 hours awake at this point and my brain is slowing down to the point where i can't form more coherent thoughts let alone analytical ones so imma go sleep.

TLDR: someone needs to bring marvel characters back down from their space crises and remember that they're supposed to be protecting earth. you cant protect america if there is no america blah blah something friendly neighborhood spiderman :P

aight whoever reads this entire thing can lemme know what they think. good night

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Iconic animated movie scenes but made in Nezha

I, probably like the rest of you, just found out about Nezha 2 because it's now the biggest animated movie. Not saying that the box office numbers are always an indicator of the movie's quality, most Disney/Pixar sequels, live action remakes (until recently), every Despicable Me sequel and many slept on classics that didn't get as much money because they weren't promoted enough or they come out around the same time as other great movies. I remember when it used to be a regular thing and not just 3 good movies a year.

Rant over, going back to Nezha. I haven't seen the first or the second movie yet, because busy. But I did watched some YouTube videos talking about how it's the biggest animated movie now, I also found some things about the original story and other adaptations and some fanfics. I also saw the ending scene of the second movie and I saw somebody say that this ending is just like in Disney's The Little Mermaid in which a King of water creatures let's his child go. This one comment opened up a floodgate of ideas in which I try to fit Nezha and Ao Bing into a bunch of other movies with similar plots or at least scenes that could be in Nezha movies. Enjoy and be inspired!

I already mentioned the little mermaid ending, but I would especially love to see Ao Bing coming out of the sea with open arms and shinning outfit (his clothes, I don't know what they're called, are already similar) while Nezha runs to him and picks him. Also, ''Daddy, I love him.'' You can retell the whole movie with them.

2. Another pretty obvious one are How to Train your Dragon movies. How humans fight with dragons but Nezha can't bring himself to kill Ao Bing, and from now on you can take the story wherever you want, friendship or love. It's not like I invented the idea, besides Astrid, Hiccup is the most shipped with antro/shapeshifting Toothless which is just like Ao Bing. You can go the, Nezha is Night Fury and Ao Bing is Light Fury, rout. I especially would love to see the deleted/changed scene from the third movie but with Ao Bing and Nezha instead. Also, the scene where Hiccup is mesmerized by Astrid when she whips her hair in front of an explosion. You can decide who looks at who, either way works. Or when Hiccup tells Astrid off (Yes, he wants to protect his dragon.) and she's like ''wow'' just like Ao Bing looks at Nezha during the ending of the second movie. Don't forget other family members! It would be cool if Nezha's family became the first dragon riders. Maybe their fathers don't get along at first but grow to like each other like Stoick and his dragon.

3. Another movie is Tangled. Nezha can use his sash or Ao Bing can use his hair like Rapunzel. In the original story, both Ao Bing and Nezha die. It can be easily changed that one got hurt saving the other and their magic can bring them back to life, the flower can be a lotus. Nezha = Fire = Sun = Light = Lanterns Ao Bing = Water = Healing = Moon = Night = Lanterns = Boat scene

4. Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. Dragons can be different sizes, so what if Ao Bing's dragon form was about the size of a horse and is hurt/too weak/doesn't know how to fly. Ao Bing and Nezha have their leap of faith and Ao Bing finally flies. Or the swimming scene. But with Nezha being human (humanoid?) and Ao Bing being in his dragon form it would play out more like the scene in Brother Bear 2. Speaking of which . . .

5. If you want to be a bit darker you can use some elements from Brother Bear. Three brothers, the youngest hot headed one leaves the fish in the open, bears dragons eat them, to prove himself he goes to get the basket and fish back (From their stomachs? I don't know what he expected to happen. He wasn't yet determined to kill it, was surprised when he saw it and said that he'll get the basket back.) but his brother dies instead. Nezha hunts down the dragon (which can be Ao Bing's mother) and kills it. Nezha gets turned into a dragon and has to learn what they're really like, what it means to be a man (someone who uses his strength to protect and not hurt), and the power of love (brotherly or romantic). I think this story fits perfectly into some of the themes of the original and the new version, shedding light on omitted characters, is a ''what if'' Nezha decided to stay with Ao Bing instead of the other way around. Also, I would like to give some ideas to people who don't ship it and just want them to stay as friends/brothers/soulmates without any romantic feelings.

6. Now we go from the whole movie with plots and character arcs to just some scenes. This one is from Disney's Atlantis. Kida aka Ao Bing goes swimming with Milo aka Nezha who gets flustered. I think this scene would've worked ''better'' with Ao Bing who is covered almost head to toe as opposed to Kida who wears a two-piece swimsuit with a towel over her hips almost 24/7. Switching Atlanteans for Dragons wouldn't be too hard but Milo and Nezha are too different not to mention you would need to rewrite the whole supporting cast in terms of their personalities and abilities.

7. Another scene is from Disney Tarzan in which Jane and Tarzan swing on the vine together. I think Nezha's sash would make a good replacement for a vine but other than that I got nothing. Tarzan's story would fit Wukong more. Nezha is a ''wild'' child but not literally.

8. Beauty and the Beast ''You came back.'' scene. I think it can work as a more emotional alternative to Nezha's confident ''I knew you'd be back.'' If you want to be more faithful to the original you would make Ao Bing the Beast but if you want to be more with the 2019 movie you would make Nezha the Beast. But it still would not work 100% because the whole point of Disney's Beauty and the Beast is that the prince was transformed for being a bad person meanwhile Nezha was just born that way and he's not actually evil.

9. Running on raindrops from Raya and the last Dragon, this the only think I liked from this movie. Watch LobsterHero's review of it.

10. Ao Bing uses his ice and water powers like Elsa from Frozen. I grew to hate Frozen for its problems, being overrated and everywhere, its terrible sequel, and many more in the works. But credit where credit is due, they have nice ice and some songs are great (if you don't think about what they do to the story). I can see Ao Bing not fully controlling his powers and accidentally ''outing'' himself as a dragon. Singing ''let it go'' when he is at odds with his family or ''into the unknown'' and ''found yourself'' in regards to him being drawn to Nezha as his literal other half. At least it makes more sense than whatever Frozen 2 tried to do. The reason why Frozen's formula wouldn't work is that Nezha is the one being an outcast. I guess you can change it to him being just a normal human or have him find out about his powers much later like in those fake Frozen trailers in which Anna has magic powers that are the opposite of Elsa's. Also, Ao Bing has a family and a whole species just like him that he can go back to. He's not like Elsa who is the only one with powers (Unless Frozen 3, 4, or 5 change that.) and is afraid she'll be feared or killed for being a witch or something. If some humans tried to hurt him, his father and other dragons would eat them alive.

That's it for now. If I'll have any more ideas I'll post them. Now, I would like to hear yours. Please use those ideas I listed in your fanart and fanfiction. It's not plagiarism. I want more fanfics (like 90% of them are in Chinese and other Asian languages and google translate isn't the best) and art. Let's make it a challenge to make it go big. I know Tumblr. It can be done. I challenge whoever reads it to use one of my ideas. (Please and thank you. Do it only if you truly want to. It's just a joke and for fun.)

[iamnmbr3]

Cursed Child rant? as a treat? 👉👈

Oh god. Where to even start. Listen, I know some people enjoy CC and I say more power to you. I'm not here to be the fun police and say what people can and can't like or write fic about or derive meaning from or whatever. But for me, personally, Cursed Child is an absolute mess of the worst kind that irritates me on a profound level.

First off, it's completely inconsistent with the canon characterizations and established rules of world building (and JKR didn't even do that much world building so there wasn't that much to keep track of and yet, they couldn't even bother to do that). I mean, Cedric, who tried to give the Triwizard Cup to Harry doesn't win and that somehow causes him to become a Death Eater??? Huh? It's not just ooc. It's bad storytelling. I mean, even if he was a hugely sore loser why would losing a tournament cause him to join an extremist blood purist paramilitary group? That has nothing to do with him losing. It's stupid and childish and nonsensical and SO bad.

And really? That's the best you can come up with? If the point of that whole thing was the tired trope of 'time travel goes wrong and makes things worse' they could've just had the gang expose Crouch earlier but instead of Voldemort not returning he just ends up returning but not using Harry's blood which allows him to do his original plan of growing his power in secret. And idk. Maybe then he takes over and he kills Harry and Harry doesn't come back. I didn't even put any effort into that. It's a bit dumb and inelegant but it gets the job done without wild character assassination and a lack of logic so profound it would insult the reasoning abilities of a fungus.

But ok, let's judge it as its own vaguely Harry Potter inspired thing rather than as an actual sequel to the canon series. You know what the result is? IT'S STILL BAD. It's just. SO BAD. I don't understand how it's a real thing.

It's like a parody of a bad play. It can't possibly be real. Harry suddenly has a phobia of pigeons? Why??? It's so...stupid. And I'm supposed to take that seriously? What? And the dialogue. The dialogue. "Bad" doesn't even cover it. The fact that "Wow. Squeak. My geekness is a-quivering" is a real actual line in the actual play causes me physical pain. WHO WRITES THAT?! AND THEN LEAVES IT IN THE FINAL DRAFT?!?!?

And Delphi. WHAT EVEN?! She's literally like a parody of a bad fanfic Mary Sue. Down to the blue streak in her hair. But we're supposed to take her seriously? As a villain? Tf? She's like a bad Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way knockoff. The whole play is like an unfunny parody of bad writing. But it's not supposed to be. It actually pretends to be a genuine drama. Which is so much worse. I truly think My Immortal is better. And way funnier.

No effort at all went into the story construction. Characters act incredibly childishly and unrealistically and simplistically. The story doesn't feel like it was written by adults. There's no feeling or depth or emotion. It's all plot contrivances and nauseatingly simplistic writing. It isn't a story. It's just some stuff that happens. Because the writers were just like 'eh it's Harry Potter it'll sell.' And that's not art. That's just churned out content. And it bothers me on such a profound level that they did it and got away with it.

I would be embarrassed to write that for myself, let alone to turn that in as a professional writer. It's so inconsistent with the original story that I legitimately think the 2 guys who wrote it didn't even read the books. They just glanced at the wiki and decided they were good to go. Despite being PAID to do this. How sloppy is that? Not to mention Harry Potter meant so much to so many people who were ecstatic to get more content yet the two clowns who wrote this just skimmed the wiki and then vomited out some of the worst lines ever penned in history and called it a day.