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therumpus · 6 days ago

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The Strangeness of Fiction: A Conversation with Scott Guild

By Elizabeth McCracken

When I first spoke to Scott Guild on the phone, it was in the wake of a terrorist attack: I was calling to offer him a spot at the New Writers Project, and it happened to be the day that the whole of Greater Boston—where he then lived—was shut down while police looked for the Tsarnaev Brothers after the Boston Marathon Bombing. I was delivering good news at this strange time; we joked a little but also talked about the utter strangeness of the moment. That conversation now seems from the world of Scott’s fiction: surreal, terrifying, full of suspense, thousands of people in their homes holding their breath.

As a person, Guild is modest and self-deprecating—knowingly, comically self-deprecating—but as an artist he’s astonishingly ambitious, a virtuoso. Plastic (Pantheon Books, 2024) is a book, an album, a project like no other. How can a book be about plastic figures, sentient waffles, and a miniature Jesus who comes off His crucifix to be a song-and-dance man be so deeply human and humane?

Scott Guild is a musician, writer, and teacher whose first novel and first album—both called Plastic—were released this year. He’s a professor at Marian University in Indianapolis, and for many years has been an advocate for prison reform. Though Scott and I have had many conversations over the years in person and on the phone, including in front of audiences and over guacamole salad, we conducted this interview over email.

***

The Rumpus: Plastic is both a high-concept novel, and profound, so intricate and strange that I find it hard to describe. I just want to insist that people read it. It's full of strange concepts and yet it's not about them. I guess I mean that largely the characters are plastic, but the novel doesn't stay with that initial question, “What if plastic figurines were sentient?” (Let's call it The Toy Story level.) It's interested in much more complicated questions. How do you describe the book to people? And what do you think it's about?

Scott Guild: You make an excellent point here, which is that the characters never discuss the fact that they’re plastic figurines—this is just their normal reality, walking around with their hinges and hollow bodies. Unlike Toy Story, there’s not a world of flesh-and-blood humans in contrast to them. I think this gets at a part of the book’s meaning: We all live such strange lives now, immersed in our technologies while the natural world crumbles around us, but more and more this just feels normal, the state of existence we’ve all accepted.

I wouldn’t want to define what it “means” that the characters are plastic figurines: I’d love for readers to interpret that for themselves, and it’s meant different things even to me in the years of writing the book. But when I look at the way we live now, and then think about how we would appear to people from a century or two ago, we probably would seem as alien to them as plastic figurines, at least in some ways—living so far from nature, completely surrounded by our inventions and the narratives they give us.

In writing the book, a main goal was to capture something of what it feels like to be alive right now, and—at least for this novel—I couldn’t seem to do that with more traditional narrative forms, which seemed rooted in a different era and type of cognition. The form of my book had to take on the story’s themes; it had to inflect how the story itself was told. I tried writing Erin’s story with a limited third person voice, then with a first-person voice, but this always fell short of what I hoped to evoke. The novel only started to work when it was written as a TV show, when we saw Erin’s life through the filter of the media to which she’s addicted. Similarly, it was only when I gave the characters plastic bodies that their world felt right to me.

All that being said, this isn’t how I describe the novel when someone first asks! I mention that it’s set in a world of plastic figurines, but then also that it’s a love story, and a story of a person trying to reclaim her humanity in a violent, chaotic world. Erin exists inside many layers of alienation, but her personhood and spiritual growth always feel like the heart of the book to me (even if her chest is technically hollow).

Rumpus: I feel like you and I have talked over the years a lot about the uses of strangeness in fiction. You talk about it a little here from the point of view of a writer—by making the world stranger, you can also write about our own world, a kind of pinhole camera—and I wonder if you can talk about what strangeness means to you.

Guild: This is such a fascinating question, and it gets me thinking about what strangeness is in art. When something is "strange," this means it has swerved from our expectations, that it has somehow defied a normal or typical pattern in its genre. It's funny, because there are whole genres—like surrealist fiction, which I write—where strangeness itself is the expected pattern, and therefore not "strange" at all!

To be truly strange in surrealist fiction, with all its genre expectations, I think you need to zag at times in the opposite direction, to go for realism when the reader expects the bizarre. This was part of my hope with Plastic: to write a surrealist novel that also has the intimate, personal stakes of traditional literary fiction, so that the two different genre patterns would keep subverting each other, creating a tension that matches the tensions in Erin's world. Just when you think you're in this zany, wacky metafiction novel where the characters get "Brad Pitt's Disease," here comes the section where Erin cares for her father as he dies of BPD—far more Alice Munro than Thomas Pynchon.

This connects to what I was saying in the last question: my desire to capture something of what life feels like right now. Seeing Trump high in the polls, seeing our eco-crisis ignored, seeing a global rise of fascism, many of us feel like we're trapped inside a satirical metafiction novel (and not a particularly well-written one!). But this doesn't change the depth of our connections to each other, or the inner depth of our emotional and spiritual lives.

And this leads to another thought: what is the point of strangeness in fiction? Why seek it at all, as a writer or reader? To my mind, when something is truly strange—and strange in a way that's satisfying—it's because it finds a new way to render experience, a shift in form that gives a new window onto our personal or collective existence. In the 1740s, when Samuel Richardson pioneered detailed character interiority in Pamela, this gave readers a very strange and new literary experience, but one deeply rooted in their own personhood. Three centuries later, nothing could be more expected in a literary fiction novel—detailed inner lives are the definition of normal. Though a little less common, the same point can be made about Virginia Woolf's stream-of-consciousness or Kafka's dream logic narratives: innovations become widely-used craft techniques, and these techniques no longer startle us. But these formal innovations were effective at the time, and continue to be effective now, because they train their gaze on something crucial about the human experience and can still speak to us centuries after their strangeness has worn off.

Rumpus: I love this answer so much, from Pamela to notes of Alice Munro in Plastic. I wanted to ask you about the visual in the book. One of the things that struck me is how clearly I saw some of the things in the book (things that don't exist in our world, like sentient anthropomorphic waffles), while at other times I didn't need to see things in great detail because I was so busy listening: to monologues, song and dance numbers, et cetera. Even though I read the book on the page, it's somehow a real multimedia experience. Maybe my question is just, “How'd you do that? And what do you see when you write?”

Guild: This is all so wonderful to hear. In many ways, the true setting of the novel is Erin's mind, and it's a mind immersed in visual media—particularly television, which she uses to escape her traumas. When Erin looks out on the world, she sees it as close-ups and wide shots, as scenes in front of an imaginary audience; her own thoughts feel to her like a confessional to a camera in Reality TV. Like so many of us today, she's deeply disassociated from reality—all of life feels like a screen—and I wanted this type of cognition to come through in the form of the book, to immerse the reader in this space as well.

In the early drafts of Plastic, when I was writing in limited third person, I always felt like I was telling the reader about Erin's mental state, from the safe remove of a more traditional narrative form. When I began to write the book as a TV show, suddenly I could see the plastic world through her eyes and the distance between us vanished. It's incredible how evocative language is: When I'd write, "the camera zooms in on Jacob's face," or, "the camera pans across the room," it felt like this whole other visual part of my brain switched on, and I could write (and see!) the setting in much more detail. And I had to admit how steeped I am in this media myself, that a few phrases about a camera could do this!

I didn't realize it until later, but I think I cribbed some of my formal approach from Joyce's Ulysses—I should give credit where it's due! So much of Ulysses is told through the lens of his era's dominant media—as a play, as a series of newspaper stories, as an academic text, depending on the section—and Joyce wants us to remember that we receive our whole sense of the world through these rhetorical structures, that there's really no such thing as "objective" perception. But the experience of Ulysses is one of continuous fragmentation—a major Modernist theme—and I wanted the form of Plastic to feel fluid and seamless, in the fluid way that visual media tries to present the world.

Rumpus: You are also a musician, and have released Plastic, the album. Is it a companion piece? An essential part of the experience?

Guild: Thanks for asking about the music! I do think of it as essential to the experience because it takes you directly to one of Erin's most important mental spaces: a space of song. Erin slips into surreal musical numbers throughout the novel—usually at her times of peak emotion—and the album is a way to experience these moments in full, with melody and arrangements for her lyrics in the book. The songs on the album are also chronological, so you can experience the whole story in about 40 minutes of music.

The album didn't feel like an "adaptation" of Plastic—the way a movie or a musical would—but an expansion of a space already in the book. It lets Erin step from the pages and continue her story in a different narrative structure, with the amazing singer, Stranger Cat, giving her voice. I love the music videos we made as well, and what these add to the storytelling experience.

Rumpus: I know that you worked on this book over years—I saw some early iterations and was always surprised by how much changed from draft to draft. You ended up with a book that was both different in nearly all its particulars and yet at its heart, the same book, undeniably. The same in its soul, and its ambitions, and life force. How did you keep the book from seizing up as you worked on it? I suppose this is another way of saying, “How did you keep it alive, and yourself interested? How does it feels to have it out in the world and done?”

Guild: I suppose the easy answer to this is Erin herself—staying close to her as a person through the years. (It’s been a long time since I thought of her as “fictional,” though I suppose she’s technically not alive!). With each new draft, I felt like I was coming to know Erin better, slipping more fully into her world.

Everyone writes and develops their fiction differently—there’s no one correct way—but I usually need a feeling of discovery as I work, a sense that I’m arriving at the truth of the characters and the world, rather than “making things up.” Learning that Erin is plastic, that she breaks into musical numbers, that she gave her father hospice care, that her sister is a terrorist—all these were discoveries while I was deep in the drafting process, and then I’d get excited and start reshaping the book around them. It would take months, or in some cases, years, and I was lucky enough to have brilliant readers like you giving me feedback and guidance along the way. But it was always grounded in Erin, and in becoming more in touch with her mind and heart and world. That often changed the book formally as well, which was a fun surprise of its own—as I mentioned before, her story only made sense to me when it was written as a TV show.

I made the album for many reasons, and I can see now that a major one was spending more time with her! We’d been together for so many years, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet: I started to work full-time on the songs once the book was completed. Now that the book and album are out in the world, and people are reading her story and hearing her songs—it’s a feeling beyond words, letting go of the person who meant so much to me all those years, seeing her leave and have a life with others. In some ways it’s very fulfilling, but I also miss her! Luckily, we still get to bring her alive at all the book-and-music events around the country.

#lit #interviews #the rumpus #writeblr #creative writing

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surrealisticduvet · 2 months ago

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Album Review: Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash (1973)

I’d like to start this review with another excerpt from liner notes - please indulge me. It will become relevant in a few paragraphs.

“Mine has been built on logic, which is probably one of the subtlest traps going... that whole 2+2 trip... the logical development that leads to fear of anything outside itself... ... Music was always the gum in those works... All that thinking went to hell when the music came. I'd be sitting around, immersed in this bubble-bath serenity of having figured something out... put right into its nice little orderly spot, and then - WHAMO - I've got to deal with music... no reason... no basis other than just its purest expression…”

Pretty Much Your Standard Ranch Stash (the one where he’s doing the George Harrison wink on the cover, next to the words “Buy This Record / Compact Disc”) was the last album for Michael’s RCA contract, and it did about as well as the first five did (guess the subliminal messaging didn't work...) What makes this record stand out from the others is that it was recorded with a group of artists from his own Countryside label - which was somewhat by chance in terms of the timing - as opposed to with a dedicated band, or in a duo.

(pretty much your standard rambly review... below the cut!)

Favorite parts of the album:

I think recording with the Countryside group was a great call and very fortunate - the musicality of this record is really iconic, and if you weren’t familiar with the track listing, you could still instantly pick out these songs as parts of the Ranch Stash sound. It’s made up of a rather simple but effective steely guitar strum, in uncomplicated keys, and it suits the songs on this record perfectly. This is not his most technically complicated, his most ambitious, or his most poetic album – but it does have a fantastic, self-sufficient sound, and if I wanted to put on something of his to listen to casually without having to worry about lyrics or themes, I might reach for this one. Another quote from the liner notes:

“The music was just the music. Not really earthshattering, mind- blowing, brilliant... none of that. Just music. This whole album was one of those conversations me and the music had. Don't get fooled by the lyrics... Lyrics aren't really the communicative part... Lyrics are just the logical part for people who are into that…”

The lyrics on this album are good, albeit a little simple at times. There’s nothing really experimental here, except for “The Back Porch and a Fruit Jar Full of Iced Tea” and the words (a medley of a poem and a song written by someone else) are not what makes it a fantastic song – it is the music and presentation.

Other hits from the record (well, to me – not to the charts) include “Some of Shelly’s Blues," a well-deserved staple for live performances, and “Prairie Lullaby,” where he sweetly yodels a loved one to sleep. There’s an alternate version of “Marie’s Theme” on the extended release as well, which is pretty good if you’re not up for the cinematically trailing original edition on The Prison. “Born to Love You” is perennial, albeit simple, and “Winonah” is apparently hailed by critics as one of his most true-to-form country-style songs, although it’s rather low on my own personal favorites list.

Critiques:

Only three and a half of the seven songs were written by Michael (he co-wrote “Winonah”), although I suppose at exactly 50% that’s not bad, but it feels less substantial than usual. His line about the lyrics being set by the wayside for this one does kind of ring true.

Conclusion:

Can I first of all just say, it is amazing that his records so far are so highly rated – rateyourmusic is certainly NOT the end-all-be-all of music journalism, and the ratings are highly subjective (but it's where I'm at, lol) -- but for a secondary-career solo artist’s first six albums to average at over 3.5/5 stars is very impressive, in my opinion. I really can’t say enough how good and inspired I think his music is. That being said-

With Ranch Stash, I think he was really nearing a point where he needed to try something new and invigorating, and he certainly achieved that (spoiler) on his next record-slash-project. He was branching out into many directions, struggling with some personal things, and not doing great financially – I don’t want to say that this album suffered because of any of this, but it makes sense why it didn’t try to be more ambitious. It “kept it simple, stupid” in a very modest and effective way, and it’s still great to listen to. In fact I’m very glad that he had a set of studio musicians who could support him in this way, which is something he always longed for. He seemed self-aware of these external influences and, once again with those liner notes, sort of sums up the philosophy behind the album with this:

“And if I come to a fork in the road, I don't panic anymore, I just assume that one is the road and the other is a road off to the side.”

#michael nesmith #pretty much your standard ranch stash #mike nesmith #album reviews

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josefavomjaaga · 1 year ago

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Hii, thank you so much for answering my previous question so beautifully. Eugene intrigues me a lot and this question is about him too. This time I actually have a what if question😄

What if Eugene got overly ambitious and plotted to have full sovereignty over Italy rather than merely serving under napoleon as a viceroy thus defying his stepfather. Do you believe napoleon would have forgiven him out of paternal love ( which i think he wouldn't) or punish Eugene for his disloyalty. If the latter then do you think he would try Eugene for treason or just let him get away with less severe consequences for once?

Hi, and apologies once more for being sooo very slow with my answers. 😥 I guess the main reason why it took me so long is the question's premise though 😁. Because Eugène being extremely "modest" and utterly "without personal ambition" kinda is one of his main personality traits, repeated over and over in both old and new biographies. It actually may have been one of the things Napoleon liked the most about him. (And we can speculate in how far this "modesty" on Eugène's part was actually a lack of confidence in his own capabilities, and in how far Napoleon soothed or aggravated and exploited this, depending on the situation.)

But then, when you look at it: It's precisely what Marshal Marmont accused Eugène of (and not completely without reason) in his memoirs. I'll not get into details about that as it's a rather complicated story (it ties in a bit with your other Ask that is still sitting in my mailbox though) but I have written some about it here and here. In short: In early 1814 Eugène received an order from Napoleon to give up the Kingdom of Italy and to lead his army (of officially 36,000 men) to France in order to defend the country, and Eugène had disobeyed and instead continued to try and defend that Kingdom of Italy that he had administered for Napoleon for almost nine years, and that he possibly still considered as his possible heritage. There even were rumours that Eugène would proclaim himself king while Napoleon was still in power.

In the end, it was only after Napoleon's abdication (as both emperor of France and king of Italy) that Eugène (whose own legitimation as viceroy had ended as well) tried to have the Senate in Milan proclaim him as the new king - an attempt that was cut short by a brutal anti-French uprising in Milan, instigated and led by the party of general Domenico Pino. But Eugène did try to become king himself, that much is undeniable.

So, in a way, there you have precisely your scenario, even if only at the very end of the First Empire.

Now on to the (in my opinion) even more intriguing part of your question:

Do you believe napoleon would have forgiven him out of paternal love ( which i think he wouldn't) or punish Eugene for his disloyalty.

Napoleon forgiving Eugène for plotting an uprising against him?

No. Chance. In. Sodding. Hell.

Of course that does not necessarily mean that Eugène would have been visibly punished. It would depend on the situation; if the conspiracy had become known abroad, I think Napoleon would have been forced to show some measure of severity and to set an example. However, if it was still possible to keep the whole affair secret, Napoleon probably would have done that, and Eugène might have gotten away with a slap on the wirst personally. Admitting to such a level of internal trouble even within the imperial family would mean admitting to very real weaknesses to his neigbour countries, and Napoleon could not afford that. But expect pretty much everyone in Eugène's personal entourage to be transferred to the most deadly frontier place in Spain immediately, and to be replaced by people answering in the first place to Fouché or Savary.

And there are several indications that Napoloeon was quite weary of Eugène's personal reputation as soon as the little King of Rome had been born. Because, technically, he now had two sons. One natural, one adoptive - but the natural one being a helpless baby who would not be able to sit a throne for another two decades, and the adoptive son a healthy and still immensely popular man in his early thirties with a wife of royal kin and already an heir of his own (Eugène's son Auguste being born in December 1810).

Napoleon being weary of Eugène gaining too much popularity in Italy may even have started before 1810 (see the story about the book on Eugène's 1809 campaign). Personally, I feel like he was at least dreaming about a large territorial empire directly answering to him ever since Tilsit, and that ruled out other monarchs but himself. Eugène was not much of a problem as long as he only had daughters, but him having a son of his own meant that he could very well start his own dynasty, a rival to the Bonaparte dynasty. If Napoleon wanted a unified western Europe under one crown, he had to get rid of the vasall kings he had installed himself (and here Eugène's situation ties in with that of his old rival Murat).

Hortense in her memoirs mentions several similar instances of Napoleon's implied distrust of her brother, starting with Eugène taking an active part in the 1809 campaign. Later, before the Russian campaign, Napoleon had apparently wanted to make Eugène gouvernor of Paris during his absence, but had a change of heart and decided to have him join the campaign instead. Maybe also because of this distrust? Eugène being in charge of Paris troops, Eugène tasked with protecting a baby whose disappearance would benefit him greatly... Maybe Napoleon deemed it too much of a risk.

During the retreat from Moscow, there was another event Hortense elaborates on: A rather enthusiastic (private) report on the Battle of Marojaroslavetz, praising the Army of Italy and its leader somehow found its way into the "Journal de Paris", without Napoleon's consent. (Eugène himself, busy in Russia, escapes suspicion this time. But do I rule out the possibility of his Milan entourage plotting with the ladies of the Beauharnais family to push their all-to-modest son/brother/husband into the limelight? Very much not!) According to Hortense, Napoleon was quite furious about it, and it contributed to him giving superior command to Murat in December 1812, instead of to Eugène. Caulaincourt in his memoirs similarily hints at Napoleon distrusting Eugène, or rather, distrusting everybody with a well-merited personal reputation.

I guess all these hints at Napoleon's growing distrust of Eugène even when Eugène made every attempt to be as docile and harmless as possible, rules out the possibility of Napoleon's "paternal love" being in the way of punishing Eugène if the need arose.

Thanks again for the Ask, and sorry for the long rambling 😁. This is a most intriguing topic indeed, and as you can probably tell I'm fascinated by all the different layers of the personal relations within Napoleon's court!

#napoleon's family #eugene beauharnais #eugene de beauharnais

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nordic-language-love · 1 year ago

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So uh. I forgot I actually made 2023 goals. Well, uh. Let's check in, I guess!

Japanese Goals

1) Reach a pre-intermediate level in Japanese - I mean, it's not going as well as I'd hoped. I've not really been giving it my all, if I'm honest. Sometimes I make great progress but I get discouraged very easily. My listening has improved significantly and my vocabulary has expanded a lot, not to mention I did - somehow - pass N4. And while passing N4 wasn't actually the goal, it was the rough level I wanted to reach. And yet I still don't know if I feel like I've reached this goal. Idk, it's complicated. I think my kanji and listening and maybe even reading generally are close to pre-intermediate. Just my speaking is garbage (but tbh it's worse for my lack of confidence).

2) Finish Japanese Short Stories For Beginners - I only have 5 left to read and could probably finish them pretty quickly actually if I wanted. I've been kinda lazy haha.

3) Have a Japanese conversation class on italki without using English at all - Mmm I knew this would be an ambitious one, but I've come pretty close a few times. If I actually tried harder to learn vocabulary maybe I could do this one? I just get lazy with learning vocab so I forget what words I've learned and then I can't use them when I need them.

Norwegian Goals

1) Maintain my B2/C1 level in Norwegian - Yeah I've done that I'd say. My reading is still C1, my other skills have slipped but definitely still around the C1 mark I reckon.

2) Learn more idioms and natural ways of speaking - Not really been trying to do that, unfortunately. But I have picked up a couple of new things recently, so that's cool.

3) Write 10,000 words of fiction - Lmao I've written zero (I did get as far as creating a scrivener document though)

4) Finish reading 5 books in Norwegian - Okay well I've read 3/5 and the fourth is planned for November (maaaaybe October at a push). I need to get another one, but I do have a physical copy of one at home soooo maybe I'll pick that up when I go back in October and try to squeeze it in?

Non-language goals

1) Improve my overall flexibility - Umm no, but I've maintained it and I now do yoga every day and I love stretching so idc

2) Read 15 books - Smashed it! I'm on book 18 and I'm aiming for 25 now.

3) Journal regularly - The point was actually to journal in English but I felt super uncomfortable and ended up journally in Norwegian anyway. But! I do write in my journal regularly! And that was the goal!

4) Learn new fans techniques - Didn't bring my fans with me in the end sooo I couldn't do this one.

#progress report #2023 goals

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vigilskeep · 2 years ago

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Minerva and Blackwall (I'd love to be a fly on the wall for watching Fenris and Seb tbh)???? Keir and Josie/Bull???? Op, you can't just say that and leave it there, I need to know the details (Nina is understandable, Isabela and Leliana are 👌)

i say minerva and blackwall not because i have invested a particularly huge amount of thought into minerva/blackwall out of nowhere but because every other dai love interest is simply ruled out. (amusingly, this is also why minerva originally romanced zevran in the first place—she simply would not go for any of the rest of them, so zevran it was.) cullen is out. josie is too nice so she’s out. solas is too condescending so he’s out. iron bull’s ahem interests would not be her thing at all so he’s out. dorian and cassandra don’t romance women so they’re out. baby sera was in the same orphanage as nine-year-old minerva which while i guess not technically bad or anything is the only way i’ve ever thought about their relationship and now romance feels weird. also i just don’t think the dynamic would be right at all. so she’s out. thus: minerva/blackwall!

i don’t know a whole lot about his romance but he has that whole deification thing going on and i’m not going to lie minerva could be into that. his mage rights opinions are good. i’m not sure of the full details of blackwall’s backstory and how it comes into dai but i could see it bringing up similar themes to minerva’s complicated past and relationship w guilt

minerva/fenris is so much because minerva is the daughter of freed tevinter slaves but she’s also an active blood mage with a fair ambitious streak so there’s like. there’s a LOT happening here. a bit of a tightrope walk of a dynamic but i can’t deny she would be into him and she could make him laugh. as for minerva/sebastian, again absolute insanity, and i’m not sure she would go for it because of the whole chantry thing, but if she DID do her flirt-just-to-see-what-happens thing and she’s intrigued just as much by flustering him as the idea of having the ear of a prince and then she takes a step too far and gets invested... rivalmance chaos. Would End Bad

keir/josie seems pretty out there on the face of it but honestly he’s very drawn to people who are kinder than him, who are more talkative than him, who are passionate abt what they do, who care a lot abt their family. i could see it. i think the uh beauty and the beast dichotomy of ambassador and reaver would be fun and totally bring out a bunch of the interesting questions abt violence vs non-violence that josie’s writing plays with. the iron bull was just the only other one i didn’t write off—i thought abt dorian briefly but ultimately i don’t think they’d get on—so there’s not a lot of thought behind that really... again i don’t really have a read on bull’s romance i’m just kind of leaving that door open

#minerva surana #keir hawke

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signalwatch · 1 year ago

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WA Watch: Asteroid City (2023)

Watched: 07/11/2023

Format: Amazon Prime

Viewing: First

Director: Wes Anderson

So, I was as surprised as anyone else when I looked at Amazon to ponder watching something and up popped the new Wes Anderson movie, Asteroid City (2023). We don't get out to the theater like we used to, so I was a bit bummed that I wouldn't probably prioritize this with so much else coming out/ lack of time/ lack of money in this economy, etc...

Anyway, apparently I'd also been socking away "credits" on Amazon for purchase of digital services, like movies, so although the movie was pricey to rent or buy vs., say, free or $3.99 for something else, I basically paid nothing for it and now have a digital copy, so... go me, I guess.

It's a curious period to be watching a Wes Anderson movie. Film Twitter has basically just decided that liking anything is bad, and Wes Anderson is nothing but a collection of well mannered tricks, both visual and in his direction of actors. That's plainly reductionist and a take I can't take seriously.

Asteroid City may be the most ambitious Anderson film to date, carrying with it all of the lessons of the prior entries I've seen (which is not all of them). Framed as a documentary about a play from the very complicated 1950's which also shows the leads of that play recreating the play, the film is communicating on a multitude of levels - with the story of what an imaginary playwright (played by Edward Norton) told about a group of people who have come to a remote locale in the desert for a science camp for teen-sci-fi-geniuses. I won't get into the issues of the far more normal adults, but they have them. And then an alien shows up.

But the story Anderson is telling folds in on itself. This is a dramatized telling of how that play came to be.

It's a movie that challenges with everything it says and does - from consideration of the careers of the characters in the play, to the concept of the cosmos, to what it means to have a world-changing event happen right in front of you. Especially to a photographer (who is paid to observe and not participate) and an actress who knows how to play emotions more than experience them. But it's also a movie that feels almost primordial in its location, and some of its allusions. But, of course, there's a play that has to be acted and completed and understood, and you get the feeling the third layer is Anderson himself, commenting and commenting upon the creation of his work, upon the seeming meaninglessness of it to some, to what it means to make illusions and share them.

More so than even usual, the film is absolutely littered with recognizable name talent in innumerable roles, including walk on parts. Sure, you have Jason Schwartzman - honestly the best I've ever seen him- and Scarlett Johansson as a mix of a number of Hollywood stars of the 1950's, but an original character altogether. Tom Hanks plays a minor role as a sonuvabitch father-in-law. But then there's Hope Davis in a scene with five lines. And Jeff Goldblum in a faceless, voiceless role. The IMDB on this is nuts, but we're also now getting the movies that were made during the pandemic when folks had @#$%-all else to go do.

As always, Anderson gets how just a few things can be hysterical. Kids, for example. Or a line delivered just so. The right visual gag like a dancing road runner.

But, god, this movie is gorgeous. And, I think, shot on Kodak.

I'll need to watch it again. It practically begs for it, but in a way that doesn't feel like homework, like "oh, you need to rewatch it to get it". Nah, it's easy enough to get. But it seems like a rewatch would be deeply rewarding, and - of course - give you time and brain space to appreciate what's there all the more.

But, yeah. I know there's plenty out there who will focus on the very quotable lines or the visual gags, but, man... you have to appreciate how astoundingly well crafted this movie is on every level.

https://ift.tt/G3vmfqD

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/Pxwamoj

#Wes Anderson #asteroid city #movies #film review #movie reviews

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funkymbtifiction · 2 years ago

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Hi Charity!

First, what do you think this guy’s mbti is? I feel like he is ISFP with positive enneagram (maybe 9w1?). And on the offhand, he is so cute (defo my type) and nice. He melts my heart, AWW!!! (Rian Dawson from All Time Low)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HuLBLOsnvrg (You’ll love him lol)

I don’t know. ISFP 9 seems okay as a guess, though.

———————

Below is a rant (and it’d be great if you could tell me what do you think about this stereotype… (Warning, super long).

Why people tend to think IFP has no Te and assume we must be emotional hellion who can’t plan or be disciplined in going after what we want?

For the same reason everyone mistypes themselves, assumes they are a thinker, assumes they are an intuitive, or assumes anything about themselves or another type -- ignorance. It’s really not more complicated than that. Some IFPs are highly successful as artists, writers, creators, etc.

I’m sorry if this sounds like a rant, but it’s pretty annoying when people in my life (who knows mbti and enneagram) thinks I’m NTJ 3w2 because I can 'plan’ and I’m ambitious. They ignore obvious Fi-dom because they think 'ISFP has inferior Te and weak Ni. You have strong Ni and decent Te, so you 'obviously’ can’t be that’. Like WHAT?! Just because I haul myself up to get things done doesn’t mean I’m NTJ or 3w2 man!

I think you would be happier if you stopped internalizing what others say about you, and using it as fuel to get upset. I realize as a 9w8 / 963 it’s hard not to constantly chew on what people say about you, but you will get a lot further in what you want to do by focusing on your goals and on enjoying your life, rather than feeling you have to constantly defend yourself and/or change people’s perceptions of a type that may or may not be accurate for yourself.

It’s hard for me to know how to say this graciously -- but often when I deal with 369s in any order, I see the exact same pattern playing out over and over again -- they rely on me or someone else to tell them who they are, and then they adopt that reality as the truth and start speaking from that agenda (as if they are an “expert” on a type they’ve only identified as for a few days), rather than looking inward and self-locating (which is hard for triple attachment, I know). Rather than assuming a type is true for you, sit with it for a while, see how it plays out, give it enough time to notice what fits and what doesn’t. The more you self-observe without an agenda, the more self-aware you will become, and the more you know your actual self, the less you will care about external opinions or allow them to make you question yourself again.

Your submission felt very 6ish, in the sense that you were angry about perceptions about ISFPs and typed out this whole long thing as if to “prove” to me how these stereotypes don’t fit you. It makes me wonder what you want from me, if you want me to validate you in some way, tell you that your dreams aren’t far-fetched, etc. I can’t do that. I don’t know you. I know you “talk” a good game, but I’m not there with you and able to see whether you actually carry out your plans proactively or not. A lot of people boast about their mad skills with various functions, when in reality it’s not true of how they “live” from day to day. Some of them are deluding themselves and others know they are not being honest with others in over-inflating their talents.

Your MBTI type is not going to hold you back from what you want; you can work for it, but you also need to have realistic expectations -- and this tends to be where inferior Te users falter, because it’s sometimes hard for them to accept that what they want isn’t always possible in the real world. I’m not saying this to deflate your ambitions, but you did ask why this stereotype exists. That’s why.

#question #mbti

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inklores · 1 year ago

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──SPOILERS FOR PDTG CHAPTER 6

the meta below contains a reply to a wonderful comment made on the ao3 mirror of chapter 6 that i wanted to explore further but once again, major spoiler alert!

"nothing cuts like a scalpel. or a mother."

i wanted the depiction of a dysfunctional mother-daughter relationship to be more raw so i felt that this two-sentence summary was pretty succinct. i went back and forth with developing xo's mother, including how their conversation would deviate and be manipulated by what is very clearly her disapproval, envy, and secret disdain for her daughter and the choices she made in her life. i was very heavily influenced by the line in barbie: "We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they've come."

and while that quote is so tearjerking and heartwarming and pure in a sense, my mind kind of went along with the idea of "what if the mother didn't WANT to stand still?" i guess that's what framed the riffs about aspirations and i hope it's alluded to julieta having had dreams that she had to hang up in order to raise two kids. especially having xo in her 30s (with glossed-over birth complications), it was kind of the nail in the coffin which—while unjustified—explains why she treats xo more of a chore or a laborious entity. and considering the bits and pieces of xo's life that i've dropped, she was seen as a daddy's girl, she got pregnant before marriage but was still able to balance being an accomplished surgeon and mother (though she wrestles with that confidence a LOT), i definitely think there's a bit of jealousy on julieta's end.

writing some of those nasty snipes from a mother to her DAUGHTER was definitely difficult but i like to think of it as a representation of how the apple really does fall far from the tree. it's cruel that a turbulent mother like julieta still has her child while xo was robbed off that. i also love torturing my ocs but yeah teehee :)

stephen variant was such a fun little scene to kick off xo's surgical life and while he is still the arrogant and ambitious guy that earth-199999's strange was pre-accident, he's still a good guy at his core and was certainly there for xo during the harder parts of her life <3

THE MIGUEL SCENE AS WELL HAS A SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART. xo's father, captain solano, is indeed alive in his universe (atsv didn't indicate whether miguel endured the loss of a police captain close to him... food for thought). also not sure if we'll get more of his backstory in btsv but i figured it was a good place to play around in and see what a spider does when (or IF) he ever clocks out. knowing that miguel survives off of guilt and bears many crosses, i wondered how that could be extended to his past and especially earth-928 xo. i briefly allude to this during the scene where he hijacks 510-xo's phone call, but i imagine he was a bystander to some of the fights that his xo and julieta had before her death and that hopeless pain is felt even more by watching history repeat itself. and clearly, with how completely broken the 928-solanos are without xo, i can imagine miguel feels culpable for witnessing that phone call and having dinner with them anyway.

this chapter is very special to me for multiple reasons:

1) it delves more into xo's backstory, career, platonic friendships, and her damaged relationship with what's left of her family. (also meeting victor for the first time but there's obviously some gritty distance between them!)

2) there are distinct cut-offs that are explored with 510-xo and 928-miguel's lives. she has the marriage and the child, and what miguel believes is the "what-could-have-been" ending while miguel is stuck with the "never-knowing." however, the complications of either being gone (a xiomara without a miguel and a miguel without a xiomara), are very different, and it's prevalent in this chapter.

3) just the mother-daughter mess in general 🥲 the fact that julieta is evidently more damaged WITHOUT her daughter than she is with her and it's just ajdfsbjhdfbsj

i'm sure there's more i can talk about this chapter and how xo's dysfunctional relationship with her mother is influenced by the relatively unstable/intricate relationship with the male figures in her life, ALONG with how it affected her own experience with motherhood and marriage but my laptop is quite literally at 1% 🥲

i promise this isn't gonna be a regular thing with my pdtg updates but i just had to explore this chapter a bit more <3 thank you to anyone who read this!!

#⁎⋆ ꙳✧∘ pdtg.#yes im fangirling over my own fic what about it #no its not 1am #mother-daughter relationships #toxic parents

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midnightstargazer · 1 year ago

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So, um. For anyone who's reading Reborn from the Ashes, I promise I haven't abandoned it! There's an update coming soon-ish. In the meantime, here's some random rambling about what's taking so long.

The hard part about writing Hogwarts Professor Regulus is that putting him at Hogwarts means he inevitably needs to interact with Snape, and Snape is a difficult character to get right. Especially through the eyes of someone who he doesn't get along with, but who isn't necessarily a better person than he is. I've written a few scenes with Death Eater Snape in To the Dark Lord and dropped hints about offscreen spy for the Order Snape in Toujours Vivant, but Potions teacher Snape arguing in the staff room with Ancient Runes teacher Regulus is something else entirely.

Especially because Snape is not wrong. Regulus has had a much easier time. He started out with a huge unfair advantage in life due to his family's wealth and his status as a pure-blood. Then, later on, Regulus definitely got a better deal when defecting from the Death Eaters. That's a choice on my part as the writer, and one that I think makes sense; Regulus showed up saying, essentially, "I'll give you the key to defeating the Dark Lord if you promise me x y and z in return," whereas Snape asked for nothing for himself and was willing to do whatever Dumbledore wanted so long as Lily was protected. Honestly, that makes Snape a far more selfless person than (my version of) Regulus. But of course he would be resentful that another ex-Death Eater went to Dumbledore for help and got to spend the rest of the war behind a Fidelius charm doing relatively safe, behind-the-scenes type work while he was instead put in even more danger as a spy.

He's right about something else important, too: Regulus is definitely after his position as Head of House. On the one hand, who can blame him? He's a Slytherin, he's ambitious, of course he has his eye on a promotion. But on the other hand, he walks in feeling entitled to someone else's position of power, and there is an element of prejudice in that. He's already admitted that if the other ex-Death Eater turned Hogwarts professor had been Evan Rosier instead of Snape, he would have an easier time respecting him as Head of Slytherin and would not be so interested in taking that away from him. Why? Because Evan and Regulus were close friends right up until Regulus went after the locket. Why was Regulus not friends with Snape? Personality could have something to do with it, but it's probably largely a matter of blood prejudice and classism.

This is the first fic in the series that I've tagged with "Good Regulus Black" as opposed to "Morally Gray Regulus Black," and I'm starting to second-guess that. Because despite being 100% on the right side and working towards positive goals now, not actively using or advocating for the Dark Arts, and being way closer to giving up on blood prejudice than he was in Toujours Vivant, he's still a mess. Things are still complicated. To be honest, I'm still figuring out just how much further he still has to go even as I'm writing it.

Anyway, my point is, the fic is from Regulus's POV, so of course he's offended by Snape's resentment and suspicion. And the worst of what Snape thinks about him is definitely not true: he didn't help Sirius betray the Potters, because ... come on, you all know the drill, the traitor was Peter Pettigrew. But overall, Snape's feelings are not unwarranted.

And trying to get that nuance across from Regulus's point of view, while also dealing with the fact that Regulus thinks Snape is being very unfair to him ...

This chapter has been a WIP for several weeks. And it's probably going to be a while longer before I'm happy with it. Just FYI.

#about my writing

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waitineedaname · 2 years ago

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this is all I thought about at work today. obviously none of the characters are gonna map onto each other perfectly because these are very different series with very different characters, but here's what I've got so far

the Elrics are obviously the Kageyamas. I know both Elrics are very talented alchemists from the beginning, but maybe it's more like Al figuring out how to transmute without a circle when he has his Ritsu obtaining psychic powers moment? also I don't think Ed would have something like ???% but I could see him doing something impulsive with his psychic powers to protect Al and then accidentally getting him hurt in the process

Mustang is Reigen as the shady mentor figure. Ed and Mustang's work relationship is definitely not as amicable as Mob and Reigen's lmao also @scribefindegil put the idea in my head of Mustang being a fake psychic hiding a flamethrower behind his desk to pretend to have pyrokinesis, and thinking about that made me burst into laughter at work

Ling is an ambitious young esper and Greed is an evil spirit who used to be really powerful but recently got his ass kicked (probably by Ed) so he's weaker than normal. both of them approached their possession agreement thinking "I'm gonna use this guy to make myself more powerful" but then they accidentally became best friends. oops. Greed is already a Dimple type character even outside this au, and the closest comparison for Ling would probably be Teru I guess??

Mei is Shou because they both have the fun combo of having a strong sense of responsibility while also being just a little bit unhinged. she latches onto Al like "you're a way better psychic than your brother. I need you to help me kill someone" and he's like ???? ok.

if Mei is Shou, then Scar is Serizawa. similar evolution of "I hate these powers" -> "I will use these powers to do bad things out of a sense of duty" -> accepting the powers as normal and working with the good guys. also this does mean he ends up working at Spirits and Such, which is hilarious to me. this au version of Spirits and Such is just "what if no one here could stand each other"

there's no way to perfectly copy the Suzukis' dynamic or recreate Claw perfectly without making things very complicated, so I'm not going to try. Father would probably be the closest thing to Toichiro, and the homunculi (minus Greed I guess???) would be the Ultimate Five

Winry is Tome by virtue of being part of the protagonist's Normal part of life, but then pushing her way into the psychic part of his life by sheer force of will because so help her god she will NOT let them exclude her from this nonsense

I had a dream ritsu was helping out alphonse with getting his body back, I guess out of traumatized little brother solidarity? anyway now I'm thinking about mp100/fma aus. if the kageyamas were in the elrics' situation I do not think it would go well, but giving the elrics psychic powers would be fun

#fma #mp100 #I don't know where lan fan would fit into this au #I don't think she fits well onto any particular character #but I think if she was an esper she'd be a telepath #I also don't know where hawkeye and the rest of mustang's crew would fit #I wish I could draw. god. I want to draw this au so bad #I feel like instead of the dimple circles when possessed #it would be the lines on the ultimate shield face #man now I'm thinking about auras too. i have GOT to stop coming up with aus I'm going to go insane #fma mob psycho au

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todoscript · 4 years ago

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sweetest delight

SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.

pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.

word count: 7.3k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.

author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.

A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.

As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.

Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?

Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.

Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.

Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.

Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.

After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”

You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.

Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.

Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.

You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.

You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.

With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.

Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.

“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.

“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”

Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.

Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.

“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.

“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”

Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.

After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.

“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”

“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.

You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.

“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.

“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.

“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.

Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.

“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.

“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.

“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”

“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”

Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.

Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.

“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.

“You’re kidding… right?”

Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”

“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.

“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.

His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”

“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.

“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”

His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.

“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.

Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.

“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.

Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.

“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.

Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.

You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.

“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.

“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.

The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”

He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.

As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.

Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?

Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–

Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.

“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.

“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”

He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.

Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.

Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.

Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.

It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.

Well, enter player two.

You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.

Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.

“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.

The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.

Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.

“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.

After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.

“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.

You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”

He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.

“Why you of course, my love.”

The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.

A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.

You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.

Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.

Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.

“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).

“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.

His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”

His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.

“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”

The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.

“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?

Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.

“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”

You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”

Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.

“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”

“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.

At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.

Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.

“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.

“Don’t you think so?”

You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.

When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.

“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.

Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?

“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.

“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.

He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.

“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.

“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.

Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.

“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.

Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.

Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.

“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.

“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.

“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”

At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.

Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.

“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.

“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.

You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.

Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.

The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.

“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.

“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.

You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha smut #bnha fic #bnha imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki imagine #mha x reader

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avelera · 2 years ago

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hello! i hope this question doesn't offend you or seem like i'm pressuring you (i'm not!). i've simply been wondering about this since chapter 6 of come live with me and be my love because it marked the end of the first day of hob and dream's year as a married couple. so, i wish to ask what are your plans for the future of the fic? will it be about their entire year together or just little glimpses of it? will it be long or do you already have an ending in mind? btw, big fan! chapter 5 is by far my favorite but chapter 4 is a close second for all the gossip and the drama!

Hello! No offense taken whatsoever, you ask a question I've been asking myself ever since I realized we were 40k in and barely hit the second full day.

Gonna cut this for spoilers just in case! They're fairly mild but some people might want to remain wholly in the dark.

So, the first weeks of this year are, in my opinion, the most interesting of course as they represent the high points of shocks, adjustments, and revelations. I am loath to skip over any of the juicy, juicy drama that happened there. But you are correct that I am also staring down the barrel of 364 more days and they will not be receiving the same depth as Day 1. Part of me wishes I'd just said a month because then I WOULD probably show each day, but I have plans for later that would not be possible if the story only covered a month, and saying "6 months" etc would just feel odd. There's a fairytale tradition to one year, or a year and a day, that I'm also partial to and feels natural to a wager between The Endless.*

Most likely what will happen is this: once patterns are established like day to day life, meals, Hob's job at the shop, etc, there will be a bit more skipping forward because we'll have seen what those are like, on average. We'll get a bit more "a few days later..." etc but not skip past any actually important conversations or occasions.

There is also a point coming up later in the story where I think we will see more substantial times skips. I think that point will mark Act 2 of 3. I might skim through quite a bit of that period minus a few stand-out scenes and then, once the full story is complete, my plan is to open prompts for that period where if there's something readers would like to see that I didn't cover, they can ask that I fill it in as a one-shot. Perhaps overly ambitious on my part, but I know I'm going to skip some lovely "day in the life" potential in order to keep the plot and pacing on track and I'd love to address some of that potential along the lines of what readers are interested in seeing.

Act 3 will likely encompass the final month or months.

Now, how long is this fic going to be? LOL, I've given up guessing. For now I'm just enjoying writing it. If I truly sense I'm running out of steam, I might push forward into Act 2 and have that one skim time a bit more than originally intended, but I still want to get to Act 3 and the culmination of all of this rather than just drag this out as "day in the life" forever. I'm a plot-writer at heart and there is a plot to this story, even if it's somewhat hidden beneath the domesticity and day to day life. Because yes, I do have an ending in mind :3

Hope that answers your question!

*(I tend to write the Endless as quite Fae-like in general, with a fondness for complicated wagers and riddles, speak in faerie truths where what you hear might not be what they said, that they rarely lie outright, and that they have a certain sense of superiority towards humans (at least, Dream and Desire do and they're more alike than ether probably wants to admit) but can still be tricked or caught off guard, etc etc. it's IMO as good a model as any for their behavior when putting them in situations not found in the show or comic and I think I can at least nod towards some comic or show moments to back up this model, particularly pre-Burgess imprisonment on Dream's part, since he seems to have more of a cruel, otherworldly edge when we see him throughout history and is of course friends with the Fae court.)

#arranged marriage au dreamling

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sohotthateveryonedied · 3 years ago

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okay so you don't have to answer this publicly (because I'm kinda scared Talia fans will come after me if you do >__>) but I'm confused about something.

Why do I see so much of the fandom on here stan Talia? Like, I get people can stan who they want to obviously - no judgement there. But I've seen a lot of people play the race card like "y'all don't like her because she's a WOC" and they act like she's this great mom and some true love to Bruce and it feels like they're completely forgetting that she fucking drugged and RAPED Bruce and has tried to kill her son before.

Like... am I missing something??? Am I crazy??? I'm so confused. I know she was kick ass in the animated series and I liked her in that! But she fucking raped Bruce and people act like he should just get over it and be with her. I'm???? Like if the same thing happened to a female character, I assume these people would be outraged, right?? So is it a weird hypocrisy or am I missing something?

I'm not trying to attack anyone, I swear. I'm just really confused.

(please keep in mind that i haven't read many talia-centric comics aside from the resurrection of ra's al ghul, death and the maidens, robin: son of batman, etc so i'm only saying what i've gathered so far based on what other people have said. i don't have much actual authority on this since i'm not as knowledgeable of talia's character as others, so if anyone wants to add on to this post with any additional details or to correct anything i got wrong, please feel free to do so!!)

Okay so!! To answer your question simply, the reason there are so many Talia stans is mostly that she's an interesting character and they like her. It's the same reason people stan any character. Talia may be morally gray at times, but so are other characters like Deathstroke and Harley Quinn, and plenty of people like them for this reason. It's not rocket science.

In a more complicated explanation, the reason there is so much support for Talia is that her character got...pretty butchered over time? (Personally, I prefer her as an anti-hero of sorts because I find that more interesting to read, but not everyone sees it that way and that's perfectly fine because at this point there are so many different interpretations of Talia al Ghul that it's hard to determine what she's REALLY like right now in canon. Not to mention how she's depicted in other media like the animated movies and TV shows.)

Before the 2009-ish era (AKA before Grant Morrison got their hands on her) Talia wasn't the "evil rapist" people nowadays label her as. She loved Bruce and he loved her. Talia was loyal to her father, but over time her love for Bruce became more powerful than her loyalty to Ra's. This was a fairly major aspect of Talia's character—her love for Bruce vs her loyalty to her dad. She was ambitious and morally ambiguous, but she was also a romantic. And overall, she was a caring person with a good heart. This was how Talia al Ghul was presented to fans for over thirty years.

Batman #232

Detective Comics Annual #1

Talia and Bruce were even married for a while, though I'm not sure how much of a say Bruce had in that marriage? From what I've gathered, Bruce was drugged and forced into a marriage with Talia. Bruce didn't consider the marriage binding and kind of just...forgot about it, I guess?

DC Special Series Vol 1 #15

Then years later the Son of the Demon storyline happened and Bruce says "fuck it, let's be married" and he hangs out with the al Ghul's as Ra's' son-in-law and Talia's husband. That's when Bruce and Talia conceived Damian in the original canon. Bruce slept with Talia consensually and they conceived a baby together.

Batman: Son of the Demon

Soon after, Talia faked a miscarriage in order to "save" Bruce from losing his edge as Batman. She ended up having the child in secret and giving him up for adoption (until decades later when the kid will show up again as our favorite brat, Damian Wayne <3).

Batman: Son of the Demon

This is where Grant Morrison comes in. When Damian shows up again in Batman #655, changes are made to better "accommodate" the fact that Bruce and Talia's kid who was put up for adoption in 1987 is now ten years old and spent his whole life being raised by the League of Assassins. Morrison made some iffy changes to the situation, the most major one being that the tryst between Bruce and Talia was no longer consensual. Instead Morrison made it so that Talia drugged Bruce and had sex with him without his consent so that she could have his child. Yikes, yikes, yikes.

Batman #656

In reference to this decision, here is Morrison's justification in an interview with Wizard's Magazine:

“For a long time, [DC] said [Son of the Demon] was out of continuity. Now it's just kind of out of continuity. I didn't actually read it before I started writing this. I messed up a lot of details, like Batman wasn't drugged when he was having sex with Talia and it didn't take place in the desert. I was relying on shaky memories. But now we have this new "Superboy punch" continuity. People still don't realize how important that single punch was to cover everyone's ass.”

Personally, not taking into account the timeline-fuckery and uncertainty of what's canon and what isn't, I think this move was mostly for the purpose of making Talia a villain right from the get-go so Morrison could use her as an antagonist in future Damian storylines. In a way, this part (the antagonist role, not the rape) makes sense, since Talia has been falling more towards the "bad guy" side of the scale at this point in time. This is due to the 2004 storyline, Death and the Maidens.

Death and the Maidens is what I interpret as the start of Talia's "bad guy" phase, which makes sense, considering that she was killed and dumped into the Lazarus Pit by her sister Nyssa like a million times in one day. Nyssa did this with the intention to torture and brainwash her sister into a weapon to use against Ra's. By the end of all this torture, Talia is now a hardened enemy of both Ra's al Ghul and Batman.

Death and the Maidens #5

Personally, I think it would have been better to leave the Son of the Demon storyline intact instead of rewriting Talia's character completely. Death and the Maidens was the turning point for her; it makes no sense to go back forty years and paint her as a villain right from the start when not only is it unfair to her character, but it just...doesn't make sense? If DC wants to see Talia as an antagonist for a bit, that's fine, but just work with what you already have instead of turning her into a crazy rapist? It's bad writing, plain and simple.

Anyway, that's why people are generally against the whole "Talia raped Bruce" narrative since it was a retcon anyway and an incredibly bad one at that.

As for why people love Talia...I mean, she is super cool and badass. Also she's a total MILF, so I can definitely see the appeal.

Batman (2016) #33

Batman (2016) #34

#she's not my favorite character in dc but there's no denying that talia al ghul is awesome and badass #and very elegant too i love that part #anyway yeah #like i said i'm not the most knowledgeable when it comes to talia's history in comics #so feel free to add on if there's anything i forgot or got wrong!!#i also didn't go into her relationship with damian because it seems to vary a LOT depending on the writer #so i have no idea where to even start with that lmao #but talia does seem to love him in her own way #excluding the time she got him killed i guess #soho reads comics #get your comic references kids #lay it on me papa bob

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labarch · 4 years ago

Text

Attempt at a Witch Hat Atelier timeline

We are still missing a lot of backstory for our main cast, but I thought I’d try and write a timeline based on what we know so far, and explore where their storylines might intersect.

I am pulling these numbers out of my hat for convenience sake, but here are some approximate ages for the characters: at the start of the manga, let’s say Coco, Tetia and Agott are all 12, Riche is 11, and Qifrey and Olruggio are 28.

20-23 years ago: Olruggio leaves his birth town Godley and moves to the Great Hall, maybe as young as 5 years old.

While many witches are born in the Great Hall, Olruggio comes from a town called Godley in the North. Yet he doesn’t remember Utowin, who came from the same place. We know that young witches usually start their training between the age of 7 and 10, but since witch society is awfully elitist, Olruggio would have been sent there as soon as his talent for magic became apparent.

Being ripped from his home at an extremely young age could explain his fear of being unwanted and left behind: he overworks himself as a way to feel useful and validated, is defensive about his own feelings, and he gets agitated and sometimes aggressive whenever Qifrey hides things from him.

20 years ago: arrival of Qifrey at the Great Hall at age 8. Olruggio befriends him soon afterwards. The both of them start sneaking out at night to chase Brimhats.

8 year old Qifrey was one fierce little thing, you have to give him that. His abuse at the hands of the Brimhats was brutal enough to break a grown man, but he picks himself up and goes right after them like “Alright jerks, you’ve got some explaining to do and I want my eyeball back!”.

Also it cracks me up that Olruggio was carrying this massive book in their flashback. Gotta love that his reaction to Qifrey’s “Let’s go chase some terrorists!” was “Sure, let me just pack my homework =>”.

Finally, there might be a slightly more selfish motivation for Olruggio’s fast friendship and devotion to Qifrey. Olruggio’s self-esteem lies in his ability to help people, so he would naturally be drawn to someone helpless. It’s unclear how much of Qifrey’s memory was missing: apparently he didn’t know about birthdays. How many other basic concepts was he missing? Did he know how to read? Between that, his lack of knowledge about magic and his injury, he was probably completely dependent on Olruggio at the beginning. Given Olruggio’s wish that they go back to “the good old times” when they were always together, I am wondering whether some hidden part of him misses being essential to someone. It’s well-intentioned, but not entirely healthy, especially if he is using Qifrey as a coping mechanism for his own insecurities.

14 years ago: Olruggio and Qifrey make a pledge of (betrothal) friendship, exchange tassels and attempt the Librarian test at age 14. It is their last adventure together, but Qifrey will continue his investigations on his own, to Olruggio’s disappointment and betrayal. Qifrey starts wearing his half-tinted glasses.

In the pledge flashback, they are wearing their old tassels, but they have swapped them by the time they undertake the third test. Also, when he remembers that pledge, Olruggio says that Qifrey’s investigation “should have ended at the Tower of Books”. The tower is the last likely place where Qifrey could have found answers about his past and a non-forbidden way of getting his eye back. Olruggio probably made him promise that he would stop his search afterwards.

Beldaruit says that he thought Qifrey had given up on his search after the third test, but Olruggio tells a slightly different story. Apparently he thought Qifrey “finally stopped causing trouble” after taking in apprentices, which means he was still behaving suspiciously right up until he became a teacher. Alaira also comments on Qifrey’s interest in the Brimhats in the first volume, so clearly his investigations were common knowledge among his friends, even as an adult.

Olruggio’s anger whenever the Brimhats are mentioned would then be caused not just by his own fear of forbidden magic, but by the reminder that Qifrey broke his promise to him, and refused to leave his past behind. Naturally, Olruggio doesn’t know about Qifrey’s change in circumstances: he is no longer looking to retrieve what he lost, but trying to stop an impending threat.

Qifrey’s discoveries in the Tower of Books also seem to have renewed his disgust towards his own scar: he starts wearing glasses shortly afterwards, even though his eyesight hasn’t yet started deteriorating.

14-5 years ago: in that interval, Coco’s father dies of illness. Olruggio becomes more and more famous for his magical items, and is given the title “Shining Torch” / “Master of Lights”. His glowstone paths become widely popular, and are installed around the castle near Coco’s mom. Both Qifrey and Olruggio pass the fourth test and complete their training.

At this stage, I really doubt that Qifrey intended to become a teacher. Whatever information he found at the Tower of Books convinced him he had to stop the Brimhats’ plan. He was probably planning to complete his training and then go straight on to his quest, not really expecting to return alive.

There are also hints that this was a strained period for Qifrey and Olruggio: Olruggio mentions that he would like them to confide in each other “just like old times”, which implies that they grew more distant after the Librarian test. I’m suspecting that Qifrey was trying to slowly remove himself from Olruggio’s life, hoping Olruggio would be so famous and beloved by the time they graduated that he would forget about Qifrey and barely notice his disappearance. Qifrey’s self-esteem isn’t the best y’all.

5 years ago: Coco receives the magic picture book from Iguin at age 7 at the Silver Night Festival. The Brimhats stop showing signs of activity. Qifrey takes on his first apprentice (probably Tetia, age 7). He interrupts his investigation of the Brimhats and creates the atelier. Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye.

We don’t know exactly how old Coco was when she got her book, but her tiny chubby face makes me think she was 6-7. Alaira also tells us in the first volume that the incident with Coco’s mother is the first sign of Brimhat activity in five years. I am thinking that after Iguin gave away the book, he instructed the other Brimhats to keep a low profile until his scheme could hatch.

I also wonder whether Coco getting her book might coincide with Qifrey becoming a teacher and creating his atelier. Given that Qifrey is probably tied to Iguin’s schemes, how coincidental is it that Qifrey wandered into Coco’s village and set her fate in motion? Perhaps Iguin contrived for them to live in the same area so that they would meet eventually. Either he somehow influenced Qifrey’s choice of location for his atelier, or he selected Coco as his “child of hope” because of her relative proximity as well as her love for magic.

7 years old is when we could expect Tetia to have passed the first test. For now we know little about her backstory, but we can guess a few things: she is enthusiastic and ambitious, but gets easily side-tracked by pet projects and struggles to stick to the curriculum. She craves positive feedback and is worried her spells and interests will be condemned as frivolous. It makes me think that she passed her first test early, but was then mistreated by her first teachers for being too childish.

We’ve seen that Qifrey has a compulsive tendency to adopt children in distress. It would fit his character if he became a teacher on impulse. Maybe he had to pass the fifth test in a rush to be allowed to keep Tetia by his side. This also brought Olruggio back into his life, as he was the only one willing to follow him away from the atelier as Watchful Eye.

The complicity between Tetia and Qifrey, and Tetia taking on the role of a big sister for both Riche and Coco, also make me think she was Qifrey’s first apprentice. Tetia is often shown teasing Qifrey, quoting both Qifrey and Olruggio, and imitating Qifrey’s teaching style: I can totally see them as a little family of three at some point in the past.

4 years ago: Riche starts training under her brother’s master, a creepy asshole, at age 7.

We actually have a clear timestamp for that one in chapter 25, woohoo! Riche’s old teacher can eat a brick.

3-2 years ago: Qifrey and Olruggio learn about Riche’s mistreatment in her old atelier and promptly adopt her. Beldaruit takes on Ririfin as an apprentice. Qifrey’s eyesight starts deteriorating. He adds the light protection glyph to his glasses.

Before that time, Qifrey might have intended to put his quest on hold until after Tetia’s graduation, but now his impending blindness puts him on a time limit. He can’t do a lot about it however, since the Brimhats have been keeping a low profile for years and are not leaving him any clue.

It’s unclear how long Riche stayed at her old atelier, and whether she joined Qifrey before or after Agott. I’m hoping she made it out as soon as possible.

2 years ago: Agott passes the first test at age 10. She gets accused of stealing someone else’s spell, is rejected from her prestigious family’s apprenticeship, and joins Qifrey’s atelier.

Agott has been treated harshly by her family for not being enough of a genius. She mentions passing the first test at 10, the upper end of the normal age range. She was probably given a hard time for starting her apprenticeship so “late”, which explains why she is now adamant about passing the other tests as quickly as possible.

I wonder whether she felt ambivalent about joining Qifrey’s atelier at first. On the one hand, Qifrey was taught by the Sage of Education himself and is clearly very powerful. On the other hand, he has only a couple students and lives in a weird little school in the middle of nowhere, a big fall from grace compared to her prestigious upbringing. I wonder whether Qifrey went to find her after he heard she was the object of nasty rumours (he knows a thing or two about those), and Agott didn’t feel like she had other options.

0 year ago: Coco and Qifrey meet. Iguin goes “F***ing finally, I thought I’d have to watch that humdrum one-eyed twink bake potatoes for another five years. It’s dragon-slaying time now baby!!!”

#witch hat atelier #witch hat meta #qifrey #olruggio #tbna #coco #riche #agott #everyone has a horrible time at the Great Hall: a wha timeline #Olruggio the wonder child arriving at the Great Hall at age 5 wrapped in an anxiety blanket and clinging to a plush toy #protect him #no mention of treefrey this time what are the odds

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