#Guys this image was too strong for Tumblr it's failed like so many times

[huh-1260]

You know what. Fuck it. I don't have enough patience to fully type out all the roles and archetypes I will be using for my LU yugioh lore au, because there is a fuck ton of cards and lore and I will only be using like half of it plus some minor tearlaments lore for a possible what if timeline, if I choose to not make it Canon to my au. So I fucked up Wild's original lore I had planned out so I present Pre-Calamity wild aka, before the plot which the first War which Wild's first death happened. (Tbh I'm not sure if I should ramble about the au/lore with the art I made of this to explain but please let me know)

So, to explain pre main plot wild. Wild is a member of the Ice Barrier tribe, which outside of this au is one of the many members of the residents of Duel Terminal. Wild is based off of (for now) Georgius, swordsman of the Ice Barrier along with the mystic tunic. The ice barrier tribe live in a ice land (some can consider it to be a frozen waste land) guarding their ultimateweapons the three dragons of the Ice Barrier. (To be honest I was going to to post Sky first but Wild is like super easy to do because I don't really have to work as hair to find a color scheme but Sky is slowly going to be finish!) The ice Barrier tribe for this au will have alot of members because a lot of people die and Im not really sure how much ice barrier members die. Changing the original idea of this au to this, i was prepared to murder every character. (Sorry y'all, it's just how it works in Yugioh card lore, everyone dies or it's super cute and its a toxic meta deck). Now I'm not sure of Georgius's original lore purpose was (pretty sure he's apart of the new Ice Barrier support due to the art style change with the original ice barrier cards and I'm too lazy to look it up and something in my house is making the internet freak the fuck out and it didn't affect Ao3 so I was just mostly chilling all day reading ao3 while my Tumblr was freaking the fuck out along with my Google.) But I decided that because I choose Wild to formerly be Georgius, swordsman of the Ice Barrier, I choose the uh, more interesting route for Wild. Wild was connected to one of the Ice Barrier dragons, more specifically Trisula (which shall be hinted my me, to be a named character guess who), and during the War against, uh man I fucking forgot, FUCK! Okay so while I figure it out, it's before Cia's awakening. Which I shall explain once I get to Warriors because he is a big fuckinf tie in for speeding up the original lore aka waking her up. So one by one, the Ice Barrier tribe released its dragons, kept in their ice barrier prisons. Two main families that run the Ice Barrier tribe, were arguing in releasing the final third Ice Barrier dragon. Because in lore Trisula, dragon of the Ice Barrier was the most hateful mother fucker ever (yes this is some what of a joke but Trisula was the most violent out of the three ice barrier dragons.) And from this two families were childhood friends who didn't want Trisula to run the world in ruin, so they tried a Ritual that shall bring up another monster as an alternative to releasing Trisula, the Calamity. The two friends were Aurora and Hyrule. And with the failure of the Ritual, Aurora died, and Hyrule's mind was left plagued with the the Evilswarm (Calamity) that escaped from the earth. Now how does that relate to Wild? So Wild was in the splash zone of Cia's awakening, and Wild was injured by the explosion, and died to his wounds in First's (gem knight Crystal's) arms. Which his sword became the sword First use to fuse (yes Gem knights are the better Gems from Steven universe fight me bitches- I'm joking on the fighting part but Gem knight are the peace keepers of Duel Terminal, noble knight of Duel Terminal that protect the weak, which honestly better than Pre era three of the gems in SU) to become Gem knight Master diamond, which Wild's sword would become the goddess sword. Which after First dies the sword gets passed on to Sky/Gem knight lazuli to become the Master Sword of this au. Now how does Wild's death affect Trisula(in this au)? Well Trisula is fucking pissed because her favorite human (I will eventually reveal Trisula idenity and her reasons) died before he could see her be released. So trisula goes on a rampage and the other two ice barrier dragons join. So basically Wild's role as Georgius was to die and eventually become a puppet/Shaddoll like creature reborn Cia as his soul is trapped in a shell that barely mimics his old body to watch the outlier of the War, the one who doesn't belong to this space and time.

Warriors.

Wow dramatic am I right? Okay so here's the unfiltered version nd the original reference card art. But, Konami has a hard time remembering to credit artists, and I would have to stalk the entire internet to try and find the original artist for all of thr cards I will be using for this au, and honestly? As much as I would rather credit the original artist and hope they have a Tumblr I don't think this series of art works would get done if I start scrambling for the original artist for every single card I will be using/referencing for lore on every single platform that exist. But if I stumbled across them in the future, the master post of this au will have the credit go to them for their original work

[memes-saved-me]

Billy Hargrove and implied Queerness

First off this is focusing on his scenes without Steve because we've all seen those and....they're pretty homoerotic to say the least so I will be bringing your attention to the other factors which lead people to believe Billy is gay or interested in men and not so much women. This isn't very indepth but more surface level observations I've made and seen others make.

(TW: Homophobia and slurs discussed)

Season 2

The first scene we get of Billy he is instantly sexualised by those around him. Tina and Vicki taking interest in him based on his looks while Carol watches on rather unamused. This sets a trend for his character and his relationship with his looks and body, but more importantly how he uses it to his own advantage. Of course this was done to play into the 80s bad boy who all the high school girls fall for but what I'll explain later makes it much more interesting.

The next we see of Billy is with Max on their way home. During this scene he insults the looks of the high school girls, referring to them as cows. We then get a very interesting line "Yeah, we're stuck here and who's fault is that?" Which Max replies to with "Yours."

A response that instantly angers Billy to the point he demands she take responsibility for moving to Hawkins. A topic that has clearly been discussed before because Max's reaction implies this has happened before if not multiple times.

In Runaway Max, which isn't confirmed canon and contradicts a lot of stuff but, we are told that the reason they moved was because Billy was completely off the rails to the point he broke her friends arm. Now. Does that make sense in blaming who's fault the move was? If this is the case it is obviously Billy's fault so why does he keep saying it was her who caused this? She clearly liked being in California so why would she do something to make them move. Unless it was unintentional...

This heavily implies that there is an unspoken incident which involves them both. An incident which triggers such anger and recklessness in Billy to the point he almost runs over Mike, Lucas and Dustin because Max wouldn't say it was her fault. Many have then filled in this gap with Max accidentally telling either Neil or Susan about Billy and another boy, which would make sense with the information or lack of information we are given in canon about the reason they moved.

While at Tina's Halloween party we do not see Billy interact with a single girl. He is seen with Tommy and another boy who then approach Steve with him. It would make sense for girls to be drooling over him in this moment, trying to dance with him or following him inside but no. He makes a beeline for Steve and we do not see him for the rest of the party.

Now, I don't know about you but have you ever seen a teenage boy look less interested in his date? Not only is he not interacting with verbally but also physically. He then gets angry when she calls Max his sister and they drive off without a word. It's implied he is taking her home as he they were waiting for Max, meaning he was probably going to hook up with her but if he was wouldn't he act just a little nicer towards her?

I mentioned before that he is the archetype for 80s bad boy and the girls sure are falling, he just isn't catching them. This is the only time we see him interact with a women his age in a romantic way. If you could call this romantic at all.

When in trouble for letting Max run off while watching her, his response is that he doesn't have the time to go looking for her because he has a date, a date we never see or get the name of, this prompts his father to say the line "So that's why you've been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot..."

A line that then prompts Billy to snap and argue back after clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast and smoothly as possible. Where else have we seen anger brought on by a topic? That's right in the car with Max. There is a trend of Billy reacting with anger to conversations or comments he finds personal or as some sort of attack. This is also when Neil becomes fully angry with Billy as seen in his rather shocked reaction at his response to that line.

This also continues the trend of Billy caring about his looks and using them as a shield of sorts, a shield that doesn't work against his father but everyone else he encounters.

Something to keep in mind, Billy is the only character to be called a homophobic slur by a parental figure other than Will. The character he mirrors in multiple ways including having the same full name William, as well as Will being heavily implied as gay or queer. Both of their father's use homophobic language against them, unlike any of the other characters in the show.

The next we see of him after the incident with Neil is also when we see him interacting with another women in a romantic sense. Karen. This is where his use of his looks and body fully come into play. He uses these assets to get information and affection out of Karen to make his father happy and avoid further punishment.

Now this is my own interpretation but Billy is used to using his body for positive attention and doesn't get that any other way. At no point in the series is he treated like a person other than in S3 by Max and Max only. Everyone else views him in an objectified manner or as a bad guy to avoid.

There is a clear resemblance between Karen and Billy's mother which I'll further discuss in the season 3 section but this leads me to believe he is subconsciously or even consciously wanting positive attention from a motherly figure, he just doesn't know any other way to achieve that.

However, it is very clear that flirting with Karen was an act as seen by the quite jarring juxtaposition of these two frames. The mask fully gone once by himself again. Meaning the only time we see him flirt with a women it isn't genuine at all.

Season 3

Now, continuing off the last point, there is countless girls practically drooling over Billy at the pool but he only accepts this attention from Karen. This exemplifies my theory that he doesn't know how to gain positive affection other than through flirting and well sex, but he only wants this attention from an older women who resembles his mother. Except, again he doesn't know any other way of gaining it. He hasn't had a strong positive female influence in his life since he was 10 years old and by the looks of it every motherly figure has treated him as eye candy and not a teenager crying for help.

He has Heather who is very much his age and flirts with him. Yet, he acts as if she isn't even there and goes straight over to Karen to flirt. The way he acts with Karen should be the way he would act with girls his age, flirting and making advances but we do not see a single example of this.

This part I find extremely interesting because it perfectly mirrors his interaction with Karen in season 2, except instead of dropping the mask he puts it on. The way he looks to his right as if she is sitting there as he practices what he is going to say to her is a clear example of his act coming into play as he prepares to meet up with her. His expression very similar to when he leaves the Wheeler home but it shifts to practice the way he is planning on talking to Karen. A complete reversal from their scene in season 2.

A rather reaching piece of symbolism could be that this also mirrors the way Neil cuts off Billy's date in season 2 as the Mindflayer is a literal representation of him being controlled by his father.

I also find it very interesting that he chooses to flirt with Karen very publicly and this might be reading a little too into it but it comes off as trying to uphold some sort of image. Another example of this is Max saying she hears Billy with girls in his room, something that sure is something he would do but when you put this with everything in this post it also comes off as him trying to prove something.

Another thing I find interesting is the way he acts around Karen, all smiles and friendly is very similar to that of the way he acts at dinner with Heather's parents. An act put on by the Mindflayer, just as he does when flirting with Karen. A mask used for underlying means and not what it shows on the surface.

Conclusion

This is all just my observation and he is not canonically gay or queer but the way he acts around women compared to Steve is a very interesting aspect to his character. If they truly intended for him to be this bad boy ladies man then they failed at presenting that.

One final thing, which I have posted about before is the fact Billy does not use homophobic language towards anyone. Even Steve does in season 1 so it would make sense for a teenage boy trying to upstage another teenage boy to use slurs and such to belittle and bully him. Except he doesn't.

I could write a full dissertation on Billy's implied queerness but a unorganised Tumblr post will have to do. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[bukojuiice]

25 lives — katsuki bakugo

ೃ  pairing: pro! hero katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: alternate universe/time traveler au,  a lot of angst, fluff but the sentimental and nostalgic kind, flashbacks, bakugo travels through so many parallel worlds just to find you.

ೃ  warnings: strong language. wc: 4,764 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau 

ೃ i created a spotify playlist for this fic, feel free to listen to it while reading here!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

 ೃ  Heavily Inspired by one of my favorite written poetry/prose of all time, 25 Lives by Tongari. The poem will be heavily referenced and mentioned in this fic!  The lines from said poem can be identified [❝ like this❞.]

 ೃ After losing the love of his life in a brutal villain incident, Katsuki Bakugo had lost a part of him. Nothing and no one could ever bring her back. He became the shell of a person he once was; fiery, bright, and the driven #2 Pro-hero in the country. He continues to live life with guilt, all hope still lost until he is gifted a time device that can transport him to parallel universes, dimensions and alternate worlds, where he begins his quest to find his lost love. Crossing a hundred of realities and living twenty-five lifetimes just to bring her back into his arms.

“Stars die. they die and they are not sorry

No matter how much the moon says otherwise.

Stars die and your whole galaxy explodes.”

For the majority of Katsuki Bakugo’s life, he is the main star of the show.

Then, you came into his life and made everything else feel like a rehearsal.

In a world where he mostly treated everyone in his life as extras, you were the main heroine.

When he put up walls around himself, you brought them crashing down.

To him, the concept of love and loving someone romantically was foreign. It always came to him as a question, If whether or not love was something worth living for and sacrificing for, giving your half to another person to be whole, when he can already live for himself.

It was always a question… until you became the answer.

 “Use my new baby wisely! Okay, Bakugo-san!?”

Hatsume Mei, a schoolmate of Katsuki back in his UA days, warned him cautiously. She was now an esteemed scientist, one of the best in the country. Katsuki was the first one to come into her mind when she finally completed her new invention, a gadget that can transfer a person’s soul and being to a different body; one in a different space time continuum.

It was as if living a new and different life.

In another universe.

The concept of the device was pretty straight-forward. You are able to go to different dimensions and live the life of your other self; then if it wasn’t the world you wanted to live in, you are free to disappear and go to another parallel universe. It raised skepticism at first and it sounded too good to be true, as how could something as extravagant and complex as this become possible? But they were living in a world full of heroes with the most unique and bizarre quirks, so why can’t it be possible?

This was his chance.

Maybe, with this, he can bring back (Y/N)…

All along, there had been hope.

He was finally going to see her again.

His thoughts bring him back to the day of the incident.

What was reported to be a regular villain attack, escalated into something that no one could expect.

She was the only casualty-

 And he was a minute too late.

Was he not fast enough? What could have happened if he had gotten there in time? Hundreds of hundreds of scenarios of what could’ve been still continue to haunt him until this very day, what could have happened if he had only arrived there earlier to save her? The things he would do to see her beautiful face and feel her calming presence once more, to see the loving woman he went back to after a tiring day, to pepper kisses on, to be dancing with in the kitchen at 2 am, to be the sharing the first cup of coffee with in the morning, the one to wake up to every single morning…

The one whom you’d share the rest of your life with.

But, now… that life was gone.

Seeing your limp and unmoving body surrounded by debris was the most devastating experience and image he had to see and go through in his entire life.

He could do nothing but hold you in his arms, gritting his teeth, tears streaming down from his cheeks, feeling nothing but frustration and powerlessness as the world came crashing down on him.

 “Dammit (Y/N!) Why you? Why did it have to be you?”

Your resting eyes and dormant body remain steady and… cold. Your boyfriend rests his head on your shoulder, trying to hide that he was bawling in pain and sorrow. Katsuki began to feel the weight of his emotions pulling him down, his thoughts reminding him of his past failures and mistakes, and now that this accident that met your demise became one of those said mistakes, how will he be able to recover? If he was able to overcome his demons and insecurities solely because of you, his friends, and his parental figures to guide him… will he even be able to do the same once again?

He was the #2 Pro Hero too… What will the public think of him?

After he had failed to save the one that he had loved the most?

It has been a year since then.

Katsuki’s life went on without you. 

Well, of course it did, Of course it does. It was just an ending, they told him. Not the end.

He told the general public that he had been slowly recovering and that he was able to bounce back to his usual explosive self. Still yelling, still being the competitive and pompous ass he is, even as a Pro-hero. But his friends and family weren’t dumb. Kirishima, his closest confidante knew there was something wrong with him. His parents noticed too that he still wasn’t himself. All of them did.

They all knew Katsuki still hasn’t recovered from the incident at all.

I mean, who would right?

It was perfectly normal to mourn. It was part of the healing process. The Pro Hero Dynamight still can’t move on and that feeling was valid. It takes time to fully heal and he had already made it clear time and time again that he will never ever love someone like the way he loved (Y/N).

But, if there was a way to bring her back, then he wanted to take that chance.

When Izuku heard of news from Hatsume Mei’s newest invention, Katsuki’s green-haired childhood friend immediately told him about it.

Although he was unsure at first, the quirky scientist assured him to wait a little bit more for the trials of the device to finish if he wasn’t sure about it. And when her test subject came back safely, bringing home their lost relative from another universe, that was when Katsuki became sure of his plans.

This was the key to bring (Y/N) back.

It wasn’t going to be easy but he would do absolutely everything just to see you again.

And with that, the day of his world-jumping adventure (literally) had finally arrived.

Bidding farewell to his family and friends, a small gut feeling inside of him says that this might be the last time he’ll ever see them again… and so, in the most Katsuki Bakugo fashion ever, he thanked everyone present that day… indirectly. He expressed appreciation to those who supported him and helped him throughout his life.

Now, it was his time to find the girl who had been there for him the most.

(through his darkest times and saddest nights, she was the ray of sunshine.)

He took a deep breath, turning to his loved ones one last time, a solemn nod yet the cheekiest smirk present on his face as he disappears, whisked away to another world.

The parallel universes that he was going through dropped him into different years of his life. So, Bakugo had to adapt to knowing what age his other self was in the timeline he was currently in. He was lucky that most of the time he landed in a world and at the time where he was a student at UA.

The time where he originally met you.

He needed to take note of every world he had been too because not only were each and every one so different. Katsuki wasn’t a poetic person (his vocabulary mostly composed of colorful words.) but as he continued to jump through so many parallel universes, he had begun to take note of the ones that stood out to him the most. In the form of a poem, one that he thought you would appreciate when he finally reunites with you. Another you at least.

[❝ The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.❞

✧  This is the first parallel universe in where you were an upperclassman. From Class 3-A. A friend of Nejire, one of the big three. Katsuki was so delighted to see you, only for you to not know him. He was currently one of the most popular students in UA, of course he is, but you paid him no attention, passing by him in the hallways as if he was just another regular freshman, instead, you were seen holding hands with some slimey-looking guy that Katsuki has never ever seen in school. This wasn’t you. Or, at least, this wasn’t the (Y/N) he was looking for. This was only the first parallel world. He wasn’t going to give up.

[❝  The next time you are brunette, and you do.❞ ]

✧ Unrequited love. What a stupid cliché. In this world, he was an idiot too far up his own ass, whilst the entirety of Class 1-A loathed him and did not look up to him like the way they did in his original world. Katsuki was so caught up in trying to change his personality, that he failed to notice you. The girl who was always in the back of the classroom, looking out the window. You were always just there. Never noticed. Admiring him from afar.

[❝ After a while I give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything. because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you. ❞ ]

✧  This was practically the same world that Katsuki originated from. Only you were missing. Every single event that transpired in his life, had happened in this parallel universe. The USJ Incident, The Forest Camp Training, The Trip to to Nabu Island… everything. There was this huge empty space that you were supposed to fill. Except, you didn’t exist in this universe. It was the quietness and the lack of your presence in this world that bothers him. Katsuki wonders how this other self of his could continue this life without you in the picture.

[❝ I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together, when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me. ❞ ]

✧  This universe surprised him with puppy love. Here, he was brought back to his childhood. You were his dearest friend and childhood sweetheart. The three of you along with Deku, were a trio. At a very young age, you kept his feet on the ground, never wanting him to think that he was above everyone else despite his powerful quirk. The young Bakugo was able to share his frustrations and insecurities to you, while you always listened. You were always there. He talked about his quirk and his complaints about how the other kids only liked him for his powers, but not for who he actually is. You continued to support him and love him wholesomely for who he was and he was glad to have a friend like you and…. Deku. (as much as he didn’t want to admit it 

However, it ended there. The two of you lying down on the hill, looking up at the stars, and shyly holding hands. Just randomly faded away. And in a blink of an eye, the timeline shifts forward to middle school. His worst years, he would say.

He was so eager to see you again and hopefully remain friends with Izuku after all this time.

Yet, you were nowhere to be found and… Izuku wasn’t his friend anymore.

Apparently, the two of you became distant after graduating elementary because you moved away and never got into contact with him ever again.

This was too heartbreaking for this universe’s Bakugo. To have such a wonderful and healthy social life when he was a kid, only for all of that to just disappear when he started middle school. On to the next parallel world then.

[❝ I love how you play along with my bad ideas, before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas. And in our times together I have many bad ideas.❞ ]

✧  The Sludge Villain. A very traumatizing experience that still haunts Katsuki until this very day. In this world, you were still friends with him. Always following him around and making sure he didn’t get into trouble. He continuously pushes you away, telling you that he didn’t need you and you shouldn’t be controlling of him.

You finally had enough of his arrogance that day and… got into an argument with him.  It was the same day as the Sludge Villain incident.

It happened in this universe too.

After he was captured by said villain, you ran after him, tears welling up in your eyes, wanting to reach out and save him. The sludge villain noticed you, and became more interested in your quirk, targeting you instead. All Might was a little too late and…

The incident led you to losing your quirk and having to live in a hospital for the rest of your years.

It felt like a long bad dream. One that reminded him of your demise in his original world. Bakugo immediately teleported to a different parallel universe. Not wanting to deal with that kind of sadness ever again.

[❝ When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you. Yet, always, you forgive me.❞ ]

✧ In this universe, you were in the same hero agency. Not knowing each other prior to this. Bakugo was the new hotshot that all the other heroes in your agency were going crazy about, just because he was from UA and was attractive. You didn’t get the hype and why everyone else was fawning over him. He was a Pro-hero just like all of you. So, when you finally met him in the flesh, you could immediately tell he was a conceited ass by the way he looked at you and by the way he presented himself.

Unbeknownst to you, Dynamight’s heart was fluttering with happiness at the sight of seeing you again. Your Pro-hero self. Caring, Bad-ass, Confident, and Courageous… It was you.

Almost you.

After being partnered up with him in hero work for the past months, he began to turn soft, a bit annoying, and act flustered whenever you were around which you immediately thought was very out of character for him.

Then he confesses.

You said no.

It just didn’t feel right. First, your hero career was more important to you and you just couldn’t reciprocate those feelings back. The two of you weren’t for each other, and he understood that. He left you for a moment to go get get some “fresh air.”

Bakugo was getting frustrated. His mind going hazy at the thought that he’s gone to so many parallel worlds yet still haven’t found you is slowly beginning to take a toll on him. But he still wasn’t going to give up.

[❝ As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist, and the ones where we just, barely, never meet. I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.❞ ]

✧  The next alternate worlds he went to were an absolute mess. One of them where the two of you barely meet. Merely passing by each other in the street, opening the door for you or entering the same convenience store. Fate not wanting the two of you to meet. Like magnets being pulled away from each other. A romance movie without the romance. As if telling Katsuki that the two of you were never meant to meet in this universe. Don’t even bother.

Then there’s the other one where you were a merciless villain and he was a pro-hero who had to defeat you. He couldn’t do that. You overpowered him.

But, hey, at least he got to see you as the girl who didn’t put up with his shit and could care less about him. Not to mention you were a part of the organization that was against everything that he stood for as a hero.

It was a tragedy. Not the Romeo and Juliet kind, but reminiscent of it. With Romeo sacrificing his life, yet Juliet remains the same and indifferent.

[❝ But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways. Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder is this the last time? Is that really you? And what if you’re perfectly happy without me?❞ ]

✧ Bakugo was finally teleported to a reality where he was a high school student again. However, he wasn’t studying in UA. Instead, having to go to a regular high school (which he was totally irritated about because why is his parallel self here going to a regular school in the first place? What happened to him?) The two of you pass by each other on your way home. Going off in different directions. You were a student at UA, laughing and mindlessly chatting with his friends. Mina, Kirishima, Denki, and Sero…

All of you barely even noticing him and acknowledging his presence.

At this moment, he realized that maybe you weren’t meant to meet in this world again. He felt like a simple character in the background. A small speck of dust in your universe. God, why was he thinking this? This wasn’t like him. He slowly lost his confidence as he goes from one parallel world to the next to find you. He couldn’t even motivate and give himself pep talks anymore. Has he reached the breaking point? Is he still even himself? Is he still Katsuki Bakugo?

Maybe, he should just give up trying at this point. Every single alternate reality so far all ended in tragedy. Not once were the two of you able to reconcile and have a happy ending. It was not like him to give up, but the chances at this point were slim and in each alternate universe, Bakugo just become more and more disappointed with how things turned out with your other-worldly selves…

It was as if the only universe where the two of you became happy was in his original world.

Was he going to stop here?

[❝ Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes.❞ ]

✧  This was it. The twenty-fifth parallel world. Hopefully, the last one that he has to go to and hopefully the one where he finally he finds you.

Bakugo jumps into the portal, expecting the vibrant colors and hues of the city to appear around him, only for him to be transported to a white box.

In the middle of this white void was a cherry blossom tree. Blooming in the prettiest pink colors, and swaying with the non-existent wind. Near it was a small bench. A feminine figure sitting on it, facing the tree.

It was you.

You.

Katsuki knows it’s you because it’s the same dress you wore that day.

A beautiful blue dress that the two of you bought when you were out for some errands. It was the kind of blue that reminded you of the sky, which is why you bought it in the first place. You were saving it for that day, to wear when you visit Katsuki at work and drop him off his bento lunch.

That day.

Instead of a sky reflecting off of your dress, it became grey. Like the color of a storm instead.

He remembers fondly what happened at that same morning. He was getting ready for hero work, whilst you were rummaging for something inside the closet.

“Ahah!” You exclaimed, finally pulling out something to wear. The sound of the wardrobe hangers clinking from the inside.

Katsuki wanted to take a peek of you but you were giving him no chances. You see him trying to take a look when you noticed his blonde hair spiking up more than usual.

“Hey! No peeking!” You giggled, hiding yourself even further inside your closet.

“Gah. Come on! Just one?” He groans, teasing you, trying his best to pull out his puppy tone. “Please?”

“No.” You deadpanned seriously and you could practically feel him pop a vein.

“Hey! What was that for!? I was just joking-“

“I was just joking too you weirdo.” You giggled again, stepping out of the closet. You take a deep breath and straighten your dress, twirling around for him to see. “How do I look?”

He dashes towards you, picking you up from the ground as he begins to twirl you around.

“Katsuki! Put me down!” You chuckle, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you. “You’re going to be late for work!” You tap his back lightly, trying to get him to put you back on the ground.

“You’re beautiful. You always are.” He says seriously. Not a tinge of playfulness or abrasive in his voice. He was still holding you up, but positioned you in a way that the both of your faces were inches away from each other, gazing at each other’s eyes.

The both of you lean in for a sweet and blissful kiss. It felt light and comforting. A feeling that you always have whenever you were with him. A very giddy feeling.

And at that same day, when he saw you again, surrounded by darkness, your eyes closed, your body tranquil and your gentle face looking ever so at peace…

You still looked beautiful, even then.

“Suki-kun.” You wave at him from afar, a solemn smile present on your face. You beckon him to sit next to you but he hesitates.

“(Y/N)…” His voice cracks, not really noticeable, but you could hear it. “Tch… are you.. real? Is this really you?”

“It’s me, love.” You continue to show him your smile. As you blink, you were suddenly caught in his arms. Katsuki was hugging you tightly like there was no tomorrow, his head nestled on your shoulder. His hug felt warm yet cold, like he had been hugging skeletons all this time whilst trying to find you.

You had no words to say to him.

It was just that kind of moment.

Hearing your voice, hugging you tight, holding your hand, and seeing your smile was enough for him at the moment.

This was you.

Actually you.

“It seemed like a lifetime ago when I began searching for you.” He whispered softly, his voice still so rough yet loving all the same.  

A lifetime of pain and sorrow. Of disappointment and missed opportunities.

“Ah…” Your voice trails off. “We don’t have much time left.”

“Huh? What the hell do you mean?” You untangle yourself from his arms, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb whilst he holds your hand still.

“I-I can’t go back to our original universe.” You mumble, trying to fight back the tears and continuing to caress his face. “We can’t go back together.”

“(Y/N)!” Bakugo’s face goes stern, as realization hits him. “Shit! (Y/N)! Look, We can get out of here okay!? There’s this device I have-“ The device on his wrist dissolves into nothing as the room around you begins to be consumed by darkness, like sucking you into a black hole.

“Katsuki… no. It’s hopeless! We can’t-“

“Damn it (Y/N)! I’ve traveled through every fucking imaginable universe possible just to find you again! I’ve gone through hell and back just to see you again! I’m not going to leave without you!”

Before you could answer his rebuttal, the bench that both of you were sitting on vanishes and now the two of you were falling in an endless black hole.

As this parallel world around you began spinning faster and faster, the two of you floated upwards, hands locked tightly together, and your eyes sad and bewildered.

The two of you watched as your faces grew younger back to your high school years, like this universe was going in reverse, moving the both of you backwards in time.

You were still holding onto Katsuki’s hands, trying to savor the last few moments with him as you began to say your goodbyes, tears coursing down your face.

“Katsuki… I know you had seen things you wish you hadn’t. You have done things you wish you could take back and I know you’ve been wondering why you’ve been thrown into all of this, why you had to suffer the way you did and why you had to go through so much just to find me. The ghost of me. And as you were going through all these alternate universes alone and hurting, I wish I could tell you that it’s okay. Even if you don’t find me again, I will always be here. My presence will always be lingering. I will live in your heart, Katsuki Bakugo. You deserve the whole world for traveling through twenty-five lifetimes just to look for me. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my being, and all that is left of me… I love you.”

“I-I love you too. Through all these lifetimes I’ve spent with another you, you will always be the one.” Katsuki mumbled, pulling you for one last kiss.

A kiss ever so soft and sweet, worth all the lives he’s experienced.

“Let’s meet again in another lifetime.”

Time continued to reverse back, to the point you no longer knew who you were with. Their face being blocked by a gleam of light. You were grasping the hands of a stranger, but you didn’t let go. And neither did they.

For a moment, there was a calming presence. A whole new world was opening up like a vortex, swallowing the both of you…

Into a whole new universe.

“(Y/N)-chan! Wait up!”

“Oh? Ochaco-chan!”

The brown-haired girl catches up to you, holding on to your arm as she catches her breath. “Can you believe it’s our first day in UA!?”

“I can’t believe it either!” You giggle along with her, taking in the sight that was the top hero academy of Japan.

It was finally the month of April.

The Cherry blossoms were blooming, symbolizing a time of renewal, a time for change and a time to turn over a new leaf.

Today is your first day in UA  Academy.

You still haven’t even grasped the fact that you even got in the first place.

Everything still feels so surreal.

The entrance exams and the excitement you felt whilst waiting for the results to release and now, you were about to step foot into the school of your dreams?

What an amazing start to your high school life indeed.

You and Ochaco were standing in the middle of the walkway, still in awe of all the pretty sights when someone bumped into you.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You called out.

No response.

You turn to take a good look at the person who knocked against you and it was… a guy.

Blonde. Spiky Hair. Hand in his Pockets. Earphones on. His pants worn loose.

God, what a dork.

“It’s alright (Y/N)-chan! He probably didn’t hear us.” Ochaco assured you, trying to pull you away from him before you could even start a fight.

You sighed, turning to your friend with a smile. “Fine. Fineee. Shall we head to class?”

“Class 1-A! Here we go!” She holds onto your arm once more as the both of you giggle and hop your way into the classroom.

“Ochaco-chan! What are you saying!? You do know I got sorted into a different class right? I’m in Class 1-B!”

“A-ah! You’re right! I’m sorryyyy (Y/N)-chan!”

Bakugo turns his head to look back at your animated figure walking behind him. He stares at you for a good second whilst readjusting the earphone on his left ear, as he too, heads on his way to his Class 1-A.

There is something so delicate about time, so fragile. In a slight moment, you can miss something so pivotal, yet never have the chance to see or witness it ever again.

 Feeling the presence of the person you would be spending the rest of your life with, joining the dots in the sky, and wondering when your stars would align.

Until then, you will dream of him, and he will do the same. 

It was only a matter of time. You will cross paths again.

[❝ until I find the one where you’ll return to me.❞ ]

- Fin.

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​ @sparkykatsuki​ @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy @drinktheramune​

[goblinwithaheart]

Unexpected But Not Unappreciated

Dabi x Reader

18+

Word count: 3,500

Dabi's a smartass, and that's putting it lightly. He mouths off one too many times and you decide to do something about it. Unexpectedly for him, you take the wheel in this encounter, and he's all but along for the ride.

PWP/Plot what plot; light dom/sub; afab reader; dirty talk; choking; use of safewords; reader has established quirk

A/N: first fic posted to tumblr! find me on ao3 @ goblinwithaheart and this fic here

----------------------------

Now, how did we end up here? Dabi thought, his back pressed against the plaster wall of the dingey hole you’d found yourselves in.

Your fingers curled around his throat, a controlled transformation causing sharp, black talons to dig into the scarred skin. You stared up at him, usually so small and demure, your pupils turned into predatory slits. Your grip tightened, and Dabi reflexively swallowed around the pressure you exerted. He felt his Adam’s apple bob against the strength of your palm.

At any point he could engulf the whole room in his hellish blue fire. Dabi knew this--it would be easier even than just batting you away, which was a far cry from difficult in the first place. But there was something about this moment, the feeling in the air, some sort of electricity in the atmosphere, that implored him to see where things were going.

Your lips quirked up, revealing sharp teeth. Every bit the predator, your countenance grew challenging, dainty jaw setting and head tilting. Dabi continued to stare down at you and take in the moment, the inherent threat failing to land. “Care to run that by me again?” You asked, your accent as terrible as always.

And shit--what had he even said? Something smartass for sure, that was a given. But… as he stood there, your hand around his throat, your soft, plush body pressed against him--and that fucking fire in your eyes. Dabi couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think of much beyond the current moment.

Beyond the bulge of his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

Your eyes darted down. Shit, she noticed. Dabi cursed internally, but didn’t allow himself to outwardly express his reaction. He kept his expression level and disinterested, but when you turned your eyes back to his, your pupils dilated back to big, black circles. You must have been able to feel his pulse begin to beat a rapid tattoo under your fingers.

Your smile widened, sharp teeth growing dull. Dabi felt the sting of your talons fade, though your grip remained snug around the column of his throat. “You’re kidding,” you said. A breathy chuckle left you, and ostensibly, you were mocking him. But Dabi could hear the huskiness in your voice. “This does it for you, Dabi?”

Dabi remained steadfast in his silence. Partly because he wanted to be a huge bastard about it, partly because he wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth. You took note of the man’s stubbornness and tightened your fingers more, your delicate digits pressing deftly into the arteries at the sides of his neck.

Dabi’s own hands flew to grip your arm, his large palms nearly engulfing your entire forearm. “Hey now,” he rasped, voice raw from the pressure and heady from the surge of lust coursing through his body. “We haven’t talked safewords yet.”

He’d meant it as a joke. Another smartass remark like the kind that got him into this situation. But the way your eyes practically lit up..

“Just say red,” you said. He felt your other hand brush across his thigh before you gripped the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. You pressed yourself even closer against him, your ample breasts squishing against his chest to create some positively tantalizing cleavage. “No reason to mess with the classics.”

Dabi smiled, one side of his mouth pulling against the staples in his face. “I always had you pegged for a freak.” He hissed a breath through his teeth when you squeezed his dick. But that smug smile came back immediately. “You fake good girls always are.”

“Fuck off,” you retorted before pulling him down to press your lips against his in a heated kiss.

Dabi was pulled forward and down, his bright blue eyes widening for the quickest second at his counterpart’s sudden action. But when his mismatched lips met your plush, soft ones, he allowed himself to sink into the moment. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and Dabi couldn’t help the groan that bubbled up in his chest.

Fuck, who could blame him though? It’s not like he hadn’t entertained the idea of fucking you before. At one point he’d even had a plan to make a move on you--at least he did until he found out you could transform into a seven-foot-tall demon monster and had way too much fun maiming jerk-ass guys who looked at you for too long.

But this? Oh, this was better than he even thought. Dabi moved his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his palms. You growled against his mouth, stopping your hand palming his hard cock to move his grip to your ass and guiding him to squeeze.

“Touch me like you’re going to fuck me, goddammit.” Your tone left no room for argument, and honestly, it made Dabi a little weak in the knees.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, cocky as all hell, his large hands kneading into your flesh like he wanted to own it.

“Mm, good boy.” You purred, and the sound of your arousal-thick praise sent shocks of pleasure down his spine.

God, when he’d imagined it, he thought you’d be this submissive little brat. Let him do whatever he wanted to you. Your body was practically made to be tossed around and told what to do. And he always thought you’d look so good on your knees for him. But you were nothing if not a walking contradiction. Look one way, act another. Kept him more than interested, he knew that.

You separated from him with a desperate gasp. You looked so debauched, Dabi thought. Delicate hair a mess, lips kiss-bruised, cheeks flushed. With the way you were playing him like a fiddle, he was sure he looked much the same.

He didn’t get to ponder the sight for long, though. You had always been surprisingly strong, even in your un-transformed body. And the way that you manhandled him to the dusty floor was nothing short of hot as fuck.

You were on him again, thick thighs straddling his hips, your mouth nipping and sucking the scarred skin on his neck. Dabi grabbed your hips and ground against you, forcing a tiny sound from you. Good fucking god, that one sound really set him off. He wanted more of those. He wanted more of you.

He pushed his hands under your shirt, your hot skin jumping beneath his fingertips. Up and up he went, finally cupping his large hands over your breasts. The tips of his black-painted fingernails peeked under the collar of your tank top, low hem affording the view.

You batted him away impetuously, moving down to begin working on the unmarred skin over Dabi’s pectoral. “I thought--” Dabi hissed as you bit down “--that you wanted me to touch you.”

“‘M busy,” you replied. Dabi was going to pop off with another smartass comment, but the thought died as you moved further down, your fingers busy undoing his jeans. You wasted no time freeing him from the confines of his traitorous pants, your small hand wrapping around the hard, hot length of his cock. “Ooh,” you cooed.

Dabi raised himself to rest on his elbows and the most smug, shit-eating smirk split his features as he peered down at you. Dabi knew what he was working with, had been on the receiving end of more than a few astonished and impressed stares. And you were looking at his cock with absolute hunger, your hand gently stroking up and down, both your eyes and your fingers roving over the series of piercings decorating the underside.

“Never seen you speechless--ah!” Dabi’s sarcastic comment cut off as you quickly sank your mouth down onto him. You drew yourself back up before llicking a wide stripe from base to tip, taking care to run the tip of your tongue between the metal bars. You engulfed the head of his cock again and god, he could lose himself in that hot cavern, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. “Fuck, angel. You’ve been holding out.”

You only hummed, reaching out to plant his hand into your hair, encouraging him to fist the soft strands and bob you up and down as he pleased. And he did, roughly gripping your hair and tugging, pulling your sweet mouth up and down his length. You squeaked at his rough treatment and then moaned in turn, the vibration feeling amazing as he pushed you down, the head of his dick pressing against the back of your throat.

Fuck, much more of this and he was going to bust, and he wanted nothing more than to pour his load right down your throat. Dabi groaned and the image conjured up in his mind: you peering up at him on your knees, tongue out with his cum dripping down your chin.

“Fuck, babe--god, your mouth is so good.” Dabi panted, fingers tightening in your hair. He could feel that pressure building, his lower abdomen flexing as pleasure ignited the nerves up and down his spine. You were taking him so perfectly, your tongue laving over his length, hands taking care of the rest of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. “Shit, I’m gonna cum!”

And just like that, you tore yourself away, leaving Dabi tethering just on the edge.

“Ah!--What the fuck,” the desperation in his voice was almost embarrassing. Dabi’s hips jerked on their own, but the weight of your body stifled most of the movement. You were clever enough to have also gotten hold of both of his wrists, your nails digging into the scarred skin there, preventing him from finishing what you’d goddamn started. He craned his head up, peering down the length of his body to see you grinning at him in utter delight. “You bitch,” Dabi panted, eyebrows drawn up and together in frustration.

“Shh,” you soothed, leaning down to give the head of his cock a tiny kitten lick. Dabi jerked again in response. “I’m not done with you yet.” You sat up once more and hungrily raked your eyes over him. If Dabi had still been familiar with the concept of shame, the sheer lewdness of your stare may have embarrassed him. “God, don’t you look so handsome underneath me. All desperate, wanting to cum so bad.” You flicked your eyes to his. “Color?”

For a moment, Dabi was confused. His mind was focused on the singular goal of getting off, all his thoughts hazy through the fog of pleasure coursing through his body, his desperate need to cum. Then he remembered, and dropped his head back to the floor with a dull thud. “All green,” he groaned, “just fucking touch me.”

You chuckled darkly. “Good boys get rewards, Dabi.” He felt you release his hands, and he peeked back down to see you run your hands up your thighs. His gaze zeroed in on the movement. Your palms caressed over your hips, across the dip of your waist, and rested to cup the globes of your breasts. Your hands kneaded the supple flesh through the material of your oversized tank top. “Show me you can be a good boy and I'll let you cum.”

Let him cum? Normally, Dabi would have scoffed, unimpressed with that little power play. He wasn’t in the habit of having anyone let him do anything. But this time… It was doing it for him. Maybe it was something to do with how he’d imagined fucking you more nights than not recently. Or maybe it was how he’d seen you mutilate men for looking at you wrong, but were doing this with him, of all people. Or, just maybe, the thought that you could give him a run for his money, give as good as you got and never, ever back down got him harder than fucking diamond.

But it didn’t really matter why, did it? Dabi reached out, leaning to grab you by the hips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your leggings. “Come sit on my face,” he growled, “and I’ll show you how good I can be.”

Your eyes flashed in excitement, though it was quickly covered with a veneer of cool confidence. You rose and quickly shucked off your bottoms--no panties, Dabi noticed with a smirk--and situated yourself above him, hovering for a moment. But Dabi was not a patient man on his best days, and quickly wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing you down and burying his face in your cunt.

Above him, you gasped as he began his onslaught. God, you were already soaking wet, he thought as his tongue dove through your folds. He struck the swollen nub of your clit with the flat of his tongue, eliciting a small moan from you. He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around it and sucking mercilessly.

“Ah!” You gasped, bending to grab a fistful of his hair. You rocked your hips against his mouth, and Dabi wasn’t sure if you were feeling too much or were chasing after it. “Ngh, Dabi, fuck!” You moaned obscenely, and the doubt quickly erased itself from his mind.

He lapped at you, alternating between teasing licks and pointed flicks. He felt every tremor that shook your muscles, the stinging in his scalp from your fingers twisted in his hair, and heard the filthy moans that he made spill from your mouth.

You were grinding against him in earnest now, panting Dabi’s name as you chased your orgasm on his face. He focused on your clit, manipulating it in the way that made you tense and frenzied above him. You ground down harder, and he was beginning to realize he’d need some air soon. But damn if suffocating between your thighs wouldn’t be one hell of a way to go.

“Yes, yesyesyes! I’m gonna cum--fuck, Dabi, I’m gonna--!!” Your words died with a sharp gasp, followed by a strangled moan as your whole body tensed above him. Your back arched and Dabi felt you trembling under his hands as he worked you through your orgasm. You pulled yourself up and away abruptly, yanking his head back when you teetered on the cusp of overstimulation.

Dabi looked up at you, your skin flushed pink, hair tacky against your sweaty forehead. Your chest was still heaving up and down as you returned his stare, eyes glassy.

Proud of the destruction he wrought, he smirked, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips, collecting your wetness to savor the taste. The pornographic visual must have reignited the lust in you, as your glassy eyes quickly cleared and your wicked grin returned.

“Was I a good boy?” Dabi questioned smugly.

You repositioned yourself in a flash, straddling your hips over his, your slick heat rubbing over the pierced underside of his cock. You fisted your hands into the collar of Dabi’s shirt, roughly pulling him up until your mouth crashed into his.

Dabi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, never unimpressed with your aggressiveness, before kissing you back with equal fervor. Your tongue delved into his mouth, curling against his, and you groaned as you tasted yourself on him. That fucking sound--shit, all of you in this moment--was so goddamn erotic. Dabi felt his dick twitch under you, so close to what he knew was going to be an absolutely magical pussy.

You smiled against his lips, your hands smoothing over his collarbones to rest on his shoulders. “Oh, yes,” you said, “a very good boy.” You raised your hips, one hand reaching to grasp his cock, teasing the head against your soaking folds. “So very, very good…” You bit your lip and moaned as you sank down on him.

Dabi’s head lolled back as he was overcome with the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him. “Fuuuck,” he sighed, hands instinctively gripping your hips. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You giggled impishly, languidly rolling your hips. It was nothing short of a tease, Dabi thought. “Mm it’s all for you, my good boy.” A moan ripped its way out of his throat, that sweet little nickname heightening the fuzzy pleasure encompassing his body. “Ooh,” you grinned, picking up the pace as Dabi allowed his torso to slump back to the floor. “You like it when I call you a good boy?”

Dabi refused to dignify that with an answer, already feeling the unmarred skin on his face heating up with blush. You retaliated against his silence by stopping your movement altogether. He let out a frustrated groan and tired to thrust up into you, but you pressed down more firmly, stifling his attempts. “Just--fucking move,” he growled, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

Quick as a flash, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his throat, tiny digits pressing against the arteries beneath his jaw. Dabi’s eyes shot open, craning his gaze to carefully peer at the woman atop him. You smiled down at him sweetly, still managing to look positively debauched. You shifted a little, the small ember of pleasure forcing an inhale from him, not that it helped the fogginess that was slowly overtaking his brain.

“I asked you a question,” you said. You raised and lowered your hips so, so slowly, your plush, hot walls clamping down on him. “Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

The stubborn, rational part of his brain absolutely railed against the entire concept. He was not a good boy. He wasn’t even a good person. But the way you were saying it, that it was you saying it…

“Yes,” Dabi rasped.

You softened your grasp on his neck and Dabi’s brain was flushed with oxygen. The sensation was heady, his body tingling all the way to the tips of his fingers. You returned to your slow pace, and Dabi moaned, grateful for any sort of friction, even if it was achingly slow. “What’s your color, good boy? Do you want more of that?”

“So--ngh--so fucking green, babydoll.” You seemed pleased, the tempo of your thrusts increasing. “God, your pussy is amazing; fucking riding me like that--so perfect.”

“Mm,” you moaned in response to his praise, pace increasing in earnest. You’d lift almost all the way off, until just his tip was still cushioned inside, then smoothly slide back down, taking him to the hilt, seating his cock so deep inside you. “Keep saying sweet things and I’ll let you cum inside me.”

Dabi’s eyes were half-lidded in pleasure, already he was approaching his orgasm, even more intensely than the first time. And with your filthy mouth saying such enticing words, Dabi knew he wasn’t going to hold out much longer.

“Choke me again,” he commanded.

Your expression was nothing short of delighted. “Now that is a sweet thing.”

Dabi screwed his eyes shut when you replaced your hand and squeezed, that pressure making his whole body figuratively ignite. You rode him with determination now, gasps and pants and little moans falling from your lips as you began to lose yourself in your own pleasure.

He could feel the molten heat pooling at the base of his spine as black dots began to crowd his vision. His fingers tightened into your skin, surely leaving bruises that would match the splay of his hands.

“Are you gonna cum?” You panted above him. “I can feel you’re on the edge. Come on, be my good boy. Be my good boy and cum for me, Dabi.”

Right at the precipice, you withdrew your hand from his throat. The rush of blood flow coupled with your breathless entreaty had him cumming harder than he ever had in his life. Dabi gasped as the pleasure overtook him, then settled into a low groan as you milked his cock of every last drop.

You settled on his lap, face the perfect picture of satisfaction. “Fuck,” Dabi cursed on a sigh, running one hand through the sweat-dampened locks at his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You giggled as you dismounted from him, nonchalantly stepping over to your discarded leggings, leaving Dabi to lie on the cold floor and resituate himself, feeling thoroughly used in the best way.

He tucked himself back into his pants and looked over in time to see you pull your leggings on, not caring at all about the drips of his cum painting the insides of your thighs. Fuck, if his soul hadn’t just left his body, he’d be up for round two after seeing that. But right now he was craving a smoke and a nap, and wasn’t looking forward to the trek across town to his bed.

Dabi sat, blue eyes fixed on you still, one elbow resting across his raised knee. His sex-addled brain was still trying to process what had just happened when you turned to him, your usual sweet, disarming smile in place.

“That was a lot of fun,” you said. “Maybe next time I can be your good girl.”

Dabi’s following smirk was entirely involuntary. “I think that can be arranged.”

[monster-bcrn]

SPOOKY’S 100 FOLLOWER SHOUTOUT!

Okay for real this is the fastest growing blog I’ve ever had hehehe. Never expected Grundy to get this popular this quickly!

Freaking love this zombaby and I’m so glad y’all love him too! As promised, gonna shout out some fantabulous bloggos that helped get Grundy to where he is today. XD

@akasupergirl/ @azombieme (I FREAKING ADORE GRUNDY AND KARA AND LIV. I swear Grundy’s loyal to Kara like he was to Shayera and Jade and Liv is totally his baby sister and is gonna protect her from.....everything. :P

Even pigeons, because they’re legion.)

@thecatgoddessbast (A blast from the past! Glad to see you again after I rampaged and caused chaos as a certain deranged pincushion of a mushroom way back in the time before present. XD

Now I get to do that as a zombie. :D Win/win!)

@starcityvigilante (OLLIE. FFFFFF-okay for real I’m HYPED to plot wacky ideas with you. Grundy has a MASSIVE grudge against Green Arrow and I’m like......*push these two together* you both get along right now.)

@folcire (We literally just started talking and I’m loving your Ivy already! Can’t wait to see how Grundy grows to see her the more he talks to her because they’re both sassy plant people that way. XD)

@themartlans (FFFFFF-J’ONN. Everyone’s favorite green uncle :D I freaking adore him and I HATE how the most he ever interacted with Grundy was him being tossed into the bay. >_<

They really need to talk more, and MAN! That Injustice verse of yours is SICK. Definitely hyped for making Grundy into an insurgent and a good zombie instead of Supes’ lapdog.

( Look at this face....LOOK AT IT.)

@blackwingsbluedings (One of the best Dick Grayson’s out there and definitely loving seeing Grundy be less smash and more “......hug?” They both need hugs I swear.)

@marvelousdamsels (We haven’t talked much but I adore your muses and I just hope Grundy doesn’t come off as too weird or clingy.......wait.......that’s......literally Grundy.....

:D)

@theirfirstexperiment (GRUNDY ON A RAMPAGE YOOOOOO! Better run fast. XD)

@amazonexile/ @gothamprens/ @captainstevertrevor ( Freaking love your muses and I love seeing Diana and Bruce actually WANT to help Grundy. It’s too easy just beating on Grundy and I love seeing them actually bother to try to get to the gentler side of the Hulk’s crazy cousin. XD)

@justiceebound / @nighttfight ( *slams fist on the table* YOU ARE AWESOME! Your Shayera is awesome, your Bruce is a national treasure and I can’t wait to throw Grundy at Supes and Diana, because these guys need a big reconciliation thing after all the chaos from literal years of slugging it out.

And I LOVE it. >:D)

@ofamazonia 

@theamazondiana   (Both of you are AWESOME Wonder Women and MAN I love plotting ideas. I’m tired of seeing Diana being turned into too much of a warrior while negating her role as a peace-maker and y’all NAIL her kindness and wisdom and need to give everyone a chance. Freaking LOVE IT!)

@raininginkyxto (LOL I always love imagining Grundy in Marvel and now poor Weasel is kind of stuck with him. XD Man, if the Hulks meet Grundy then that poor bar is going to really get smashed.....)

@notatomo (GIANT. Man I loved that movie as a kid and I LOVE the subsequent giant robot and tiny kid works inspired from it (example being the CRIMINALLY under-appreciated Sentinel series by UDON.) Can’t wait to see what happens when Grundy talks more to someone bigger than him. XD)

@liminalstctic (GRUNDY HEARTS TINY GIRL. XD Yeah he’s trying his hardest to help her. ;A;)

@dolceclavier

@gobsnacc

@adrenalinesaint

@ninelivesruined

@yellowskinnedwackyman  (CREEPER! I’ll forever ADORE these two butts because they’re team Tree Lobsters.)

@collidingxworlds/ @thecursedhellblazer (I. Love. Your. Constantine. I swear I have so much fun writing Grundy trying to get drunk (and failing) and learning to cuss up a storm while still being a mad lad ready to throw down with mega-zombies to protect his tiny friend.

DC, make this friendship canon or so help me Grodd...)

@chaosmultiverse (I love your Klarion so much! He’s so much fun! XD And Teekl for the epic win!)

@raichoose (Herbert West and Solomon Grundy? THAT aIN’T GOOD! D:>)

@gctjinxd (Freaking LOVE your Jinx! LOL how she manipulates Freeze and how Grundy isn’t even REMOTELY phased by her powers. Like he is TOUGH. Even bad luck won’t stop him.)

@killcrcroc (BIG BAD KILLER CROC! I love your Waylon and I adore how he has a collection of watches and that awesome suit. XD Croc definitely deserves more love since he’s much smarter than he looks, and tough enough to even get Grundy to back down in a serious fight.)

@babydxhl (Baby Doll is criminally underappreciated and I love how she’s the opposite to Grundy. She looks child-like but is very crafty, mature and knows how to get what she wants, while Grundy is physically strong and big enough to bully his way into anything he wants, but is very simple and child-like and would rather watch the birds. XD)

@theednygma (An awesome Ed Nygma and I love how Grundy is so unsure of everything yet still goes along for the ride as a support. XD)

@sleightlyoffhand (BUNNY MAN! Okay the idea of Josiah monching on carrots in Grundy’s pocket makes me smile so much. XD)

@thanagrian (BIRD-NOSE! Honestly every time I think of Grundy and Shayera I get the feels big time. These two definitely deserved more than just two episides to give them a unique friendship.

(I love that STAR Labs mission so much in Injustice. XD)

@the-arkham-librarian ( I love Eliza so much! She’s crafty, stubborn, sweet and kind and just cares about everyone so much when few don’t. Grundy grew so attached to her I swear she’s like his little sister at this point. XD And he’s totes the best uncle along with Eddie.)

@fatherdamned ( I LOVE YOUR RIDDLER OMG! He’s so snarky but man he is SO DAMN FUN to write with! Grundy is there for his green friend, no matter what!)

@fartemis-crockpot

( I freaking LOVE Artemis and Grundy, especially in the Injustice Society stuff. Yeah Grundy’s been a butt before but he genuinely likes and cares about her and the rest of the team and I’m like....

Look at these bunch of a-holes. Yeah they’re a family and even if they’re bad.....they’ve got each other. And that’s what counts. C:)

@powerhours/ @lastofmars (Green dad? Green dad. I love your J’onn so much and I’m like *throws Grundy at green dad* Here give this disaster some love. XD)

@gothamdad (YET ANOTHER AWESOME BATMAN. :D)

@redsleuthed (TIM! I love Tim and I swear these two should talk more because Grundy doesn’t WANT to fight and I think just letting someone hear him out would help him immensely.

Plus that stuff with Freeze? Poetic cinema.)

@themusespace

@12thlevel​ (On this blog we stan socially awkward green boi with angery grandpa genius mastermind. XD)

@pluckyingenue

@seekthedarknesswithin (SHADE! I love Shade in Justice League where he constantly throws Shade at everyone so you can imagine how excited I was to see Shade on Tumblr! We haven’t done much but man.....even Grundy was excited to see an old friend from the Injustice Society/ Injustice Gang.)

@youstolemycoat (Okay, hands down, Nick Necro is so much fun to plot with. His Robin verse is so fun too and poor Grundy tries to help but a certain birdy won’t let him. XD)

@ufotm (Tiny alien baby. :3)

@thetrigonborn

@kitfreeman

@partcfyouruniverse/ @diamondcladclown ( An awesome mun and my goodness her Harley is EPIC! I love the metas about Harley too and you just GET HER. And that????? Is the sign of an excellent writer and mun.)

@bigbadkillercroc ( I love your Croc and the brotherly bond he has with Grundy! It’s so refreshing to see these two bonding instead of Grundy tearing off Waylon’s face like he did in the Solomon Grundy mini-series. :C)

@blizzardmuses (I LOVE YOUR MUSES OMG. Your Batgirl?????? I ADORE HER. I love Freeze as a member of the Birds of Prey and I love tossing Grundy at your muses because the guy needs love and an excuse to smash.....and I really love both lol.)

@starfirechan (You’re Starfire is so freaking CUTE! I love how she and Grundy get along so well since they’re kind of two misfits that aren’t very well-versed in city life. XD)

@gotham-crusader/ @maximummuses (One of the best Batman and Damian Wayne RPers out there! I have a lot of fun with our threads and even if they fizzle out there is so much heart to them that they’re some of my absolute favorites no matter what muse I put on. C:)

@teufortsquidman (PRAWN! Okay, a giant mega-zombie and an Eldritch abomination? Yeah they’re gonna be good pals lol. XD)

@tragedybcrn (Hands down one of the BEST Batman RPers I’ve talked to and plotted with. I love how Bruce helps Freeze and even Grundy try to be better than just crooks. Grundy though has had so many bad experiences that he can’t trust anyone anymore unless there is some SERIOUS help. But he’ll learn to at least try to trust Batman.....because Batman was genuinely nice to him.)

@krygothite ( I freaking LOVE your Bane! We haven’t written much but FFFFF0yeah he’s epic. XD And Grundy is kind of nervous about bringing Bane to Slaughter Swamp because Bane is tough but not kaiju-sized gators and snakes tough....

Or....maybe he is.....let’s test him. >:D)

@batvvmn

@redwinefangs (VAmpire Batman? Vampire Batman. We have an epic trifecta of vampire Bats, Freezy-wolf and zombaby Grundy and I LOVE it. These three are so much fun to plit ideas around. XD)

@bclaur

@stcrshnes

@titanicscionofthestars ( I freaking LOVE Sara! All across my blogs I love her and the way you write her! And I swear her reaction to Grundy being impaled????? MY HEART. ;A;)

@jcinthedance  (JERVIS! Okat for real I love the image of Hatter and Grundy just enjoying a tea party at the asylum and being weird dorks. XD)

@adventurepunks (I absolutelky LOVE your Zatanna! She’s so fun and I’d love to plot more with her! :D)

@shesquiinnsane

@laughter-in-white (YOU????? Are??? Like the BEST Joker. Hands down. Your Croptop J is so much fun to plot with and he’s funny and being dramatic for Bats. And Grundy is like ‘yeah he’s crazy but he’s my crazy.’)

@yourfavoritesidekick

@smartvulpix (* glomps on you for being epic*)

@thehouseofivo (Your Freeze and Julian are AWESOME! Love throwing my guys at them both lol)

@lil-miss-romano

@sweet-tea-solly

@slauhter

@occultsleuth

@wiisectrpillar

@wonderlandcarpenter

@gunborn

[darklove9314-blog]

Nightmares: A Nessian One-Shot

So I usually put my writing on A03, but I wanted to write  two one shots specifically for Tumblr. The other may be coming later in the week, but definitely before ACOSF comes out. I hope you guys enjoy it!!!

Description: Nightmares always plague Nesta Archeron’s dreams, but what happens when one night a battle scared warrior is awakened by her screams. 

Terror scorched through her, intense as any fire, suffocating her with it’s smoke. licking at her skin with it’s flames. Her mind far from clear. Her soul heavy She tried to fight it. Tried to tell herself it wasn’t real. The flames. The burning. The crack and pop of the wood. Her father’s neck snapping over and over again. The image playing in her head on repeat. Haunting her. Making it hard for her to breath. Wishing that this was the only image that haunted her nightmares. But this was just the begging.

 Perhaps this was the price she had to pay for immortality even though she did not want or ask for it. In retrospect it was a punishment she deserved. For what punishment could be better suited for the monster she had become? A monster her mother would be ashamed of. A monster her sisters had been tired of dealing with. A monster he had been tired of dealing with... 

“Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do.”

Well he had been right about one thing, she truly was unlovable. 

Sighing, Nesta shut the book she had been trying to read and placed it back on the shelf. It used to be one of her favorites. A book that brought her such joy. Now she could barely endure reading it. Hadn’t been able to read much romance these days. Smut scenes included. What was the point? Her mother had been right, they had given her such unrealistic expectations. They were only fantasies and it was time for her to come back to reality. To her nightmares. Awake or asleep it was as if she couldn’t escape them. And being back in this house, Back to the place that haunted her with memories. Memories of first becoming fae. Memories of him, both good and bad. Once he had tried helping her with her nightmares. Now that just wasn’t an option. 

Things were still so strained between them, so fragile. Like broken glass. Shattered and unfixable. She had no clue how they would last possible months together as she unbound her hair working her braids out with her hands remembering the few times that he had seen her doing it before shaking off the memory. Mad at herself for thinking of him yet again. It was harder without the alcohol. Without the distractions. When she could physically feel his presence in the room above.

Sighing in frustration, Nesta finished the last of her hair, her scalp stinging from how tightly she had bound it that morning as she gently massaged her scalp climbing into her bed preparing to surrender herself to whatever nightmare was awaiting her. 

Cassian tossed and turned in his sleep, his mind refusing to shut off before he finally gave up, exasperated, he threw the sheets off his body, making his way to the door, and silently opening it. Being extra careful as to not wake Nesta. It was the last thing he needed to deal with right now. The woman that still haunted his dreams. Like a siren’s song. Being this close to her didn’t help. It never did. 

He needed something. Anything to help him sleep. Carefully heading downstairs towards the kitchen to go make something to help him sleep, Cassian stopped dead in his tracks at what he heard on the lower level. 

It had started off small. Soft whimpers he would have not noticed, barely would have registered if it hadn’t been follow by the screams. Her screams. Was she hurt? Was she in danger? Every instinct in his body was set aflame as soon as one name screamed from her lips. 

“Cassian!” she cried out propelling him forward. Rushing to her aid, damning the consequences as he burst into her room, looking for any signs of impending danger and finding... 

Nothing. He saw nothing except her. Thrashing in her bed. Clutching onto her sweat soaked sheets. The sweat making her hair cling to her forehead. Her cries of sorrow and agony filling the room. The sight of it slamming into his gut. He knew she had been having nightmare's when she was turned, but hadn’t known they had continued. Asshole. He was such an asshole for saying those things to her about them. 

Approaching her slowly, Cassian knelt down beside her, her back to him as he gently laid his hand on it.

“Sweetheart.” He said gently. 

She lurched up so fast, Cassian barely registered what was happening as power flung to his chest propelling him across the room, making him slam into the wall, hard enough to bruise, but the impact had not been hard enough to kill him. As she looked at him bewildered. Hair amess, teeth bared, breath heavy, as the silver in her eyes that had lingered from her powers faded returning to their normal color as panic and fear replaced the fury in her gaze. 

“Cassian-Wh-What are you doing in here?” She asked, for once there was no malice behind her words. 

“I-I heard you screaming. You-” Called out my name. 

The words hung unspoken between them, the silence defining for what seemed like hours before she said, 

“Di-Did I hurt you?” She asked, voice trembling slightly. Turing her face away as if she couldn’t bare the thought of it. A glimmer of the Nesta he had known. 

“I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’ve been through worse.” 

Cassian didn’t know how long they sat in silence. He yearned to go over to her. To comfort her and kiss the tears she was now spilling away promising her that whatever it was they could work through it. That it would be alright. But he knew she wouldn’t want that. Wouldn’t want the promises he could not keep. And than a thought came into his mind. An olive branch. 

“I’ll be right back.” He stated leaving her alone to her thoughts as he went to retrieve what he thought might help. 

She had hurt him. She knew it deep within her soul. Had been having a nightmare about the king. About her and Cassian, but this time the king had killed him. His shadows holding her down as he murdered him right in front of her. The agony filling her as she screamed out his name. And than she had awoke to him flung across the room. She had felt the hand upon her back and had assumed it had been the king winnowing behind her back. Ready to end it all, but it had been him. And she had hurt him. 

Monster. Her mind whispered. 

She had no idea how long she sat there drenched in her sweat soaked sheets before she heard her door click open and Cassian shuffling inside. She didn’t know why he cared. Why he bothered when all she would ever cause him was pain. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked as she felt his weight shift her bed. Knowing that he was now sitting beside her. As few aromas hit her nose. 

She stared down at her toes, struggling to find the words to say. Still shaken by the nightmare. Terrified that him sitting beside her was her mind playing tricks on her yet again. Having to remind herself that this was real. That she was here, and he was alive. 

She concentrated hard on keeping herself grounded. Focusing on the aromas wafting though her nose. On the cool feel of her sheets. The taste of her fresh tears on her tongue. And than forced herself to look at him. At the warmness of those hazel brown eyes. The ones that had calmed and soothed her many times before. The ones she had nearly lost. 

“I can’t.” She whispered forcing the tears back. She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t want him to see her as weak. To see her as vulnerable. Not when being vulnerable had gotten her nowhere. Not when being vulnerable had caused her nothing but pain and suffering. 

A strong, earthy scent filled her nose as Cassian handed her a tea cup, the scent of it something she couldn’t place. 

“It’s herbal tea infused with valerian root. I-I have nightmares' too, and this usually helps me get back to sleep.” he stated as she took the cup taking a sip of it. The warmth of it filling her chest 

“You do?” She asked knowing it was unfair of her to ask about his when she didn’t want to share her own, but regardless, he looked down staring at the blue pattern of her sheets. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I think I’ll never get rid of them. I-I still see those faces. Still see those fallen soldiers that I failed to protect.”   

“You did what you could.” She answered wanting to comfort him. 

“And it still wasn’t enough.” He answered, the silence between them echoing. She didn’t dare push farther than that. She didn’t know exactly what to say. So instead she reached for his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. The warmth of him flooding through her palm as the bond between them sung at the touch. 

“We can’t save everyone.” She answered, thinking back to her father, the snapping of his neck. His lifeless eyes. 

“That we can’t.” He answered a sorrow filling his own. “But we owe it to the ones we couldn’t save to at least try.” 

He pressed a vial in her hands as she looked down. 

“What’s this?” she asked. Thankful for the change of subject. 

“It’s lavender oil. A few drops applied to your skin each night can help you sleep. You can also add it to your baths if you like. I have more of it in my room if you need it. “ He answered about to pull away before she surprised them both throwing her arms around him in a hug. The closest they had ever been since.... 

“Thank you.” She replied pulling back slightly, not sure why she had done it. But it had felt like the right thing to do. Before she had spotted how close they were. Before their lips were mere inches apart. He moved in closer about to close the distance between their lips as she twisted her head away, knowing that if she let him kiss her , it would be her undoing. She wasn’t ready. Not when she was like this. Hurt flashed across his eyes when she looked back, but understanding filled them as well as if he knew exactly what she was feeling without her needing to say it. 

“You should get some rest. We have a long day of training ahead of us tomorrow. Goodnight Nesta” he answered giving her hand a gentle squeeze before standing up and making his way out of the room, the loss of him making her feel cold. 

“Goodnight Cassian.” She whispered to the empty room before sleep overtook her once more.  

[a-duck-with-a-book]

REVIEW // Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle, #1) by Jay Kristoff

★☆☆☆☆

So I’m very late to the party, but I just finished reading Nevernight by Jay Kristoff I had such high hopes for this series based off of what people recommending it had told me and what I read about it before picking up. Dark fantasy? Check. Strong leading lady? I’m here for it. Gays? It’s literally my only personality trait. Sign me up. Unfortunately, this book fell flat in all those categories. It reminded me a lot of Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass, which made me take one point off of to begin with simply for making me think of Maas’s writing. Overall, I just found the book to be too predictable, with bad writing, exposition, and pacing, and too many parts that just made me ~uncomfortable~.

In case you are not familiar with this novel, Nevernight tells the story of Mia Corvere, a girl who lost her family when she was a child after her father was convicted of treason. When the book begins, she is 16 years old and embarking on a journey to join the Red Church, a school for assassins, so that she may one day be able to avenge her father’s death. Along the way she meets a bunch of forgettable characters whose names I can’t be bothered to remember and is taught by the most fearsome killers in the Republic. Here she gains many valuable skills, like how to survive being poisoned, how to fight, and how to get big boobs.

+ Side note: by chapter 3 three I started picturing Mia as the crow guy from RWBY and I could not shake that for the rest of the book

I had many issues with this novel that I will try to summarize in some sort of coherent fashion, but to be honest this book sucked the will to live out of me so I don’t know how much energy I can put into this review.

// image: official cover art by Jason Chan //

FOOTNOTES

The footnotes were probably the most jarring element of the book for me, and, unfortunately, there’s a lot of them. Their function seems to be twofold:

they are the form of most of the world-building, explaining several customs, the history of the institutions and peoples Mia meets, and the mythology followed by the people of the Republic.

they allow for the narrator of our story to interrupt with comical one-liners or cryptic foreshadowing

In my humble opinion, both of these are unnecessary and stupid. The interruptions come off as crass and immature and make the other more textbook, boring exposition come off as a joke, especially when it is dealing with sensitive or serious topics. There is one that explains this brothel called the Seven Flavors, which the footnote explains refer to “Boy, Girl, Man, Woman, Pig, Horse, and, if sufficient notice and coin was given, Corpse.” Now, on its own, this passing mention of pedophilia, bestiality, and necrophilia could very well contribute to the world building and tone of the novel, but when placed side by side with the childish, joking tone of the “cue the violiiiiiiiins” or, regarding the acoustics of a room, “…they were, as it happens, exceptional. Falalalalalalaaaaaaaa”, come off as way too light-hearted for the topic at hand. Maybe I’m being way too sensitive, but I’m pretty tired of authors using serious topics as off-hand remarks as a lazy way to make their world daker and grittier. Plus, these footnotes were just so incredibly cringy that I would recoil from second-hand embarrassment every time. They resemble the things I wrote when I was 14 and trying (and miserably failing) to be funny. Also… there are way too many of them. While at first I appreciated the attempt to deepen the lore of the story (I’m a sucker for world-building), after a while it became evident that the author was just forcing information down our throats without taking the time to actually weave the lore and background into the story itself. It came off as a very lazy way to force exposition.

OVERLY FLOWERY LANGUAGE

This story is BRIMMING with similes and metaphors, like every other sentence is some overly complicated way to describe something that could have been presented in three words. When you include so many metaphors/similes/etc., they begin to lose power. They should allow the reader to extrapolate more meaning and emotion from a sentence, but if the book is bursting at the seams with them, they become increasingly ordinary, to the point of losing all of their luster. One prime example appears on page 30:

“It was a bucktoothed little shithole, and no mistake. Not the most miserable building in all creation. [here there is a footnote about some other inn/brothel] But if the inn were a man and you stumbled into him in a bar, you’d be forgiven for assuming he had—after agreeing enthusiastically to his wife’s request to bring another woman into their marriage bed—discovered his bride making up a pallet for him in the guest room.”

So first of all what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That whole paragraph is a fever dream. Let’s begin with “bucktoothed little shithole”. Bucktoothed? Really? What does that mean. Please, someone explain to be right now what a bucktoothed building is. Is it uneven? Is it awkward? Is it half-finished? Is one side longer than the other? Did they do a bad paint job that only covers on side? Are the windows askew? Is the door too big for its frame? We already know from the paragraph above that it is “disheveled” as well, so why the need for another weird phrasing of its appearance? We then move on to that whole JOURNEY of a sentence, where the inn is compared to a man being cuckolded. That is the most insane tale-can you imagine running into someone in a bar and that story being the VERY FIRST thing that runs through your mind??? I know I’m focusing way too much on this stupid paragraph, but basically what I am trying to get at is that even though we spend half a page talking about how bucktoothed and disheveled and cuckolded this building is, we get no actual physical description of it. Imagine if Kristoff had just written that it was a run-down, ill-kept building that looked as worse for wear as its owner did. Done, one sentence. Great. Let’s move on. Instead, we spend so long reading these absolutely batshit descriptions that ultimately tell us next to nothing. Flowery language is placed over actual context. You may think that a description this long and complex means that this inn is a significant or recurring setting in the novel. Nope. It’s not. Mia leaves and that’s that. The reason that I’m focusing so much on this objectively irrelevant paragraph is because it is so representative of the biggest issue I have with the writing in this book. There are so many unnecessary comparisons that function only to make the author feel clever rather than add anything to the story at all. It’s very à la 2010s Tumblr.

THE (IN MY OPINION, BAD) WRITING

For the first half of the book, we are constantly being TOLD things rather than being SHOWN things. With the exception of one of the teachers cutting off Mia’s arm, we rarely see the ruthlessness that the assassins are so feared for, but we hear about it in nearly every other sentence Where are the consequences? I think this book would have been way more enjoyable if there were actually consequences to the characters’ actions. The inclusion of the weaver and the weird vampire guy completely remove any tension regarding the fate of the central cast. When Mia had her arm chopped off, I was shocked, and pleasantly surprised. How was she going to overcome this unexpected obstacle in her training? Then a couple pages later, its reattached with absolutely no lasting consequences. All of the initial tension and shock value of the loss of Mia’s arm is entirely removed because of the two incest-y siblings. Their entire purpose for existing is just to undo all damage to the main characters. Then suddenly, out of the blue, Mia is willing to take on a ton of consequences and completely throw away her chance at becoming initiated in order to avenge her family just to save Tric from receiving like one punishment??? Like why?? As an aside, the only moment I truly enjoyed was when Ash fucking stabbed Tric to death. I assume that when the reader’s favorite moment is one of the central characters’ death, it does not bode well for their reception of the book.

THE THEMES

TW: rape-y subjects

The author seemed a little too keen to include rape and sexual assault in his story. Mia withdrew her consent in the sex scene in the very first chapter, and even if you read it as consensual (which I do not), it is described as incredibly unpleasant on her end. Tric is the result of a rape, which is brought up several times throughout the story. Further, Mia is constantly facing harassment from men. I understand that this is frames the idea that the world she lives in is misogynistic and ruthless, but there are other ways to push that idea through other than constantly putting in her in those situations. As in, this didn’t need to be the ONLY way we explored this subject. Beyond the uncomfortable propensity for sexual assault, I also very much disliked the sexualization of the 16-year-old main character. Oh. My. Gosh. Mia is CONSTANTLY sexualized. Every single damn character makes comments about her body, how hot she is, how much sex she potentially has. It is so weird and uncomfortable. I feel the need to reiterate that she is SIXTEEN. There is, however, a focus placed on the power Mia can gain from seducing her targets. Girl power? Not to me, really. The issue I have with this is the idea that a woman has to be overtly sexual in order to be considered powerful. This is something that we can see in many female assassins and supposedly powerful female characters in fiction (like Black Widow) especially those written by men. Now, there is nothing wrong with using one’s sexuality as a weapon, and I’m certainly not saying that a strong female character cannot be sexual, but the idea that a sixteen-year-old girl is shown having her body painfully modified tp be more desirable, and in a graphic sex scene with another character, in order to for the reader to read her as liberated and powerful does not sit well with me. I don’t really feel like this aspect of her training should be relevant to the overall story. I wish the time that Kristoff had dedicated to hammering into our heads that Mia is a femme fatale to developing her Darkin powers instead. The way she is written now feels more like she is a faux strong female character written for a male audience.

Secondly, Mia is fully written as “the plain-girl-who-is-actually-pretty”. This whole trope bothers me IMMENSELY. YA is full of girls who are described as plain, forgettable, or ugly while their physical descriptions are just the dictionary definition of conventionally attractive. It seems like a way to market off of girls’ self-consciousness while still being able to market the main character as a hot heroine in official art. And there is, of course, the issue of Mia’s boob job Readwithcindy (just “withcindy” now!) did a whole video about this so I won’t get into it much just to repeat what she already said, but I agree that the idea of a 30-something year old man including this completely unnecessary detail regarding the sexualization of teenage girl, who we have ALREADY seen in a rape and being sexualized by other men in the story, made me really, really, uncomfortable. I highly recommend you go watch her video, as she touches on this in way more detail. [Cindy's video

RATINGS

Worldbuilding: ★★☆☆☆

A lot of thought obviously went into the world-the mythology, society, and politics are well-thought out. But the way they are introduced is annoying and bland. It seems like the author put a lot of effort into constructing this world but realized a lot of it would be left out of the book, so he crammed it into footnotes instead.

Tone and writing style: ★☆☆☆☆ for first half, ★★★☆☆ for second half

The tone of the first half is all over the place, like it doesn’t know if it should be dark and gritty or comical and immature. Footnotes and character dialogue ranges from lighthearted and crass to seeped with themes of torture and sexual assault. It is jarring, to say the least, and often feels like the author doesn’t take these ideas of rape or violence seriously. There are so many instances where the scene is tense or gritty, and Kristoff is actually writing it pretty well, I’m enthralled and on the edge of my seat, and then Mia or some other character (or the footnotes) throw in some stupid comment or make the same “Mia is such an asshole lol” joke for the billionth time and completely ruin the mood of that scene. The second half of the book moved much faster and was helped with way better writing, but it really did not do enough to make up for the horrendous structure of the first half of the book.

Pacing and structure: ★☆☆☆☆

The first half of the book really drags on. Once we arrive at the school, there are constant jumps in timeline, marked with periods when a thousand things happen all at once and the plot moves forward at a dizzying rate, and others when the characters just seem to be going about their daily lessons.

Concept: ★★★☆☆

I found the overall idea of the books to be very interesting, even though it is certainly not the most original or unique concept for a YA fantasy book. The issue is that the potential is squandered with a poor execution.

Characters: ★☆☆☆☆

I truly did not care about any of the characters. The token mean girl, the bumbling nice-guy-who-is-definitely-the-love-interest. too many of the characters just sat nicely within their tropes, doing nothing much to pique my interests. I think my favorite overall was Mister Kindly.

[imnotwolverine]

A Devil’s Duet - Part 2

August Walker x OC Anna

Author’s note: Readers or not, I’m just going ahead with this -- Tumblr are you eating my posts again?! What’s happening? :( 

Word count: 1.527

Warnings: unprotected smutty smut, stalking, strong language, references to graphic deaths

< Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 >

.AIR

“I flew up high, but the sun burned too hot. Too strong. And now my wings are but memories as I drift in an endless ocean.”

--

.AIR - I miss you

‘For international calls, please press *beep beep beep* [..] Cannot answer your call right now. Please leave a message after the..’

Sighing quietly Anna looked out through the frozen glass of the phone booth, dark silhouettes passing by in the gloomy New York night. 

*beeeep* Sounded the shrill phone line. 

'Mama, you’re not answering my phone calls,’ She hesitated. ‘I miss you and I’ll try to call you later, okay?’

With a heavy click she put the phone back, her arms wrapping around her winter jacket as she stumbled back out in the restless nightlife. 

Not far off a man leaned into a grey sedan, most of his acne-damaged skin hiding beneath a fedora. 

An embrace was shared, his wet lips brushing over her cheek like a snail’s trace. It was just for show, his face lighting up as he started some animated chatter, the two of them getting in the car. 

‘Miss me?’ He pulled his door closed and looked at Anna, her eyes giving him an unamused glare before she quickly put a smile back on her angelic cheeks - aware that some might be watching. 

‘You? Ha! Just drive already, will you? I have somewhere I need to be.’  

.AIR - I forget you not

She had about three cocktails too many. She knew. But she was willing to suffer for it in the morning. 

The bar she was leaning into was bustling with life, fellow clubbers pushing her left and right to get their orders in, her shoulders solid as marble as she twirled her straw in her mojito, uncaring about the heavy beat that rung in her ears. 

‘Hello angel.’ Yet another jerk tried a move, and she was this close to beat him into a childless future, before she turned around and found the devil himself looking back at her. At least, it probably was. 

Staring up at him, she decided it should be illegal to look this handsome with a moustache, the combination of his deep voice with the smooth curls and face hair leaving little doubt that this must indeed be the one she was looking for. The coincidence. 

‘Hello devil.’ 

He smirked and eyed the dance floor. ‘No dancing tonight?’ 

She shrugged, then hinted at her feet; one bandaged in walking plaster. 

‘You’d have to carry me.’ 

Another jerkish idiot pushed Anna into her ribs and before she could serve him the long impending groin-kick instead, she was hoisted up, her drink now abandoned on the busy bar. 

‘HEY. FUCK.’ That heavy Russian lilt was back on her sharp tongue, but it was quickly silenced as this devil took whatever he pleased, hands groping at her bum as he placed the two of them in the middle of the dancing crowd, making them disappear from the world like dust in the desert. 

‘Great idea, angel.’ The music of his voice teased and she was quick to recuperate, deciding that she might as well indulge a little more, her hands tugging aggressively at his blouse. 

‘Is that how you dance?’ 

Their eyes shared a look and Anna licked her lips - him being here made everything so much easier. ‘No, this is.’ She whispered into his ear, climbing onto his hip as she twirled her groin into his. 

And again he eagerly took from her gifts, her dress skirting up and his flies zipping down, the two finding a solid rhythm of lip-locks and hip-rocks. Uncaring of the consequences of their little escapade.

For a moment Anna flew again, her sorrows forgotten, her fingers marking him so he wouldn’t get away this time. 

--

.AIR - I remember

‘How old are you?’ The solemn man settled on the metal chair before her, blue TL-light buzzing in the dense air of the empty grey room. 

‘Fourteen.’ She bit, looking straight into his dead-pale eyes. 

‘Ha.’ He settled back and eyed the files before them on the metal desk, crimson red spluttered over the corpse of one malicious ballet teacher, child pornography scattered around him like the wings of an angel. 

‘A little young to go to the Gulag, no?’ 

Their eyes met as the man closed the folder before him. 

‘I have a proposition for you, little girl.’  

--

.AIR - I’ll take your breath away

The cigarette burned ash between his lips as he studied the crying figure near the fountain. Red hair, blue eyes. Foot in plaster. Her. He didn’t even know her name. 

What are you doing there angel? He flicked the falling ash onto the cold pavement and licked his lips, his feet hesitating to get near when another person stepped out of the theatre, chubby cheeks soon laying eyes on the crying woman, too. 

The two knew each other, apparently, his snaky fingers wrapping around her shoulder as he comforted the weeping angel, some conversation being exchanged before they both got up, a car now arriving which they both slid into. 

But before she joined the man, she looked up. At him. Straight at him, blue eyes sparkling with not tears but determination, making him choke on the smoke of his cigarette, the ashen tranquilliser suddenly too hot in his lungs. 

'Fuck.’ 

--

.AIR - I spy with my little eye

‘I see.’ Two hands pushed a folder away. One in a library in Easter-Upper, one in a gloomy office building, CIA. 

A response that two pairs of watching eyes thought strange. Was something the matter with their best agent’s ability to see this mission through? It was already taking far too long. 

The acne-damaged face of Anna’s messenger frowned. ‘I spy with my little eye that something is up with you, little angel. Get yourself sorted.’ 

‘I’ll get it done.’ Two voices confirmed solemnly. 

--

.AIR - I crave violence

‘It’s done.’ She settled back in the car seat as the man started to drive, the string of red lights before them slowing the car before they could get to any significant speed. 

‘Almost done.’ He corrected, making her frown at him. 

‘A deal’s a deal, Sergei.’ 

‘You’re not done angel.’ And with that he pressed his phone into her hands, gesturing her to look at the video that was ready to play, the small screen showcasing a slumped forward, hooded and bound figure, a hand moving into the image to pull it off, red curls springing free from the rough material. 

Air escaped Anna’s quiet lips. 

Mom. 

‘It’s the work of some terrorist group called..the Apostles. American. We’ve got news your guy may be involved.’ 

‘The one I tracked?’ 

‘Mm.’ He pushed in the gas pedal. ‘If we finish this, we’ll avenge your mother’s death and free the world of the American poison once and for all.’ He clicked on his direction indicator and turned his head to make sure he could make a safe lane change. 

Anna blinked, replaying the video beneath her fingertips again and again, that same American poison bubbling back up in her throat after her reckless behaviour last night. She could still feel the devil’s traces deep inside her, bleeding into her usually calm nerves. She could still smell him, taste him, feel him. Big and strong between her quivering thighs. 

In that moment she had tasted the freedom that was so close. But now it was taken from her yet again. Her wings clipped short and her hands bound, it was now that same devil she had to take down, the contract drawn in her own mother’s blood. 

--

.AIR - I think we should dance

The Parisian air was different. Both in the lungs and in the atmosphere, the winter evening much less cold and harsh in comparison to New York.

Anna had opted for a slightly more revealing dress to visit this club, a high slit showcasing her long dancing legs, two heels clicking beneath her feet. 

She was glad to be rid of that obnoxious fake plaster, and even more glad that she no longer had to lie to her now ex-colleagues. What she did miss however, was dancing itself, her feet already moving to the dance floor before she had gotten her first drink, the well-dressed crowd bouncing on the smooth low grind of an electronic bass. 

‘Hey.’ A man in his fourties clasped onto Anna’s shoulder, ‘Aren’t you Anna Karikova? New York Ballet? Ha! What a small world..’ 

Anna’s face froze over as realisation hit that her boss had been right: never attract too much attention to yourself. With a swift tug she tried to free herself from his hand, but he only held on tighter, immediate panic bubbling up in her gut when another man intervened, wedging himself in between the two of them. 

‘I’m sorry..I eh..think you are mistaken. This my wife..and, she’s hardly a dancer.’ 

Two devil blue eyes looked back at Anna, her breath escaping her lips as the world indeed had become terribly small, the risk of a failing mission suddenly much too close for comfort. 

‘Looks like we’re dancing again, angel.’ He purred, the sweat breaking clear on Anna’s back. 

Shit.  

[ju-writer]

I got really pissed of by something I read about Rhysand on tumblr about his arc in Acosf so I need to get this out of my chest before I implode. English is not my first language.

FEYSAND IN ACOSF

1. Feysand decision to have a baby is okay. I don’t know what people have against kids, but Feyre wanted to be pregnant. Period. Her reasons are only hers and, personally, I don’t think they’re worthless. The war showed her that she may be imortal, but she doesn’t have all the time in the world, especially because Rhys and her will always put themselves in danger to protect their people. So, she wanted a kid. She wanted to live it before it was too late. Besides, if she lives as long as people think she will... kids grow and Feysand has much time to enjoy them as a couple.

The problem is when people say that having kids undermine a woman’s image or make her bend to the man or whatever. I don’t like this. Having kids is a woman’s choice. She may have or not. Feyre with a child won’t make her weaker or less empowered. She still is Feyre Cursebreaker, the High Lady of the Night Court and she wanted celebrate her love with her mate. She deserve this, they deserve this.

2. I, personally, don’t think that Rhys thought Feyre would get pregnant so soon and that’s why he accepted start trying. Fae people takes longer to bear children than humans. Years (In Acomaf, Rhys said he wouldn’t like to be at war and having Feyre pregnant). Unfortunately, like human pregnancy, Fae pregnancy has its surprises and the baby came before expected. I saw people comparing that humans waits for years but them forgot to considerate the ones who got pregnant in one night. Yes. This happens. We know nothing about Fae pregnancy and just because it’s harder doesn’t mean that it’s impossible.

3)Rhys is totally wrong about not telling her about the risks. In this we agree. AI really don’t get why you guys get so angry with Rhys when he makes a mistake, but idolize Nesta when she already did many. People say to be empathetic, right? So let’s go:

*Rhys probably blamed himself. He should know better. He should have stopped her when she transformed into Illyrian form. However, he wasn’t thinking. He was full of passion and didn’t think and this cost his mate.

*He didn’t want to something that would bring such joy to Feyre become so morbid. He wanted her to enjoy. He was scared. He was scared to say out loud to her because it would mean that he had anything to save her. It would mean that he is going to lose his mate. If he didn’t say it, maybe he could figure out a way. Maybe things would be less real.

Yeah, it didn’t convinced me as well, but it was a mistake based in emotions that he only knew. That’s what is cool about SJM. Her characters make mistakes and we don’t need to cheer it, just acknowledge.

4. Just because he made mistakes he’s not going to be a good High King. WRONG. I dared you to say one great leader in the planet that didn’t make bad decisions. Guys, wrong choices is how we grow, how we learn and is SO GREAT that authors like SJM get that and write about that. You can fail and make a great High King. You can make a mistake and you still can be the most loyal, fierce and wise person in the room. Rhysand is powerful, intelligent, selfless, wise, strategist, strong and treats everyone in a way that most people in the universe don’t treat. He has all the qualities for be a WONDERFUL High King.

Yes, Rhys is different in Acosf but only because it’s another point of view. SJM made us suspicious because Nesta is suspicious. We kinda thought him arrogant because Nesta thinks it. The same smile can mean a asshole expression for Nesta and a ironic expression for Feyre (she knows him under the superfície of his arrogant self, while Nesta don’t like him in any form). Think about it. I have so many more thing to comment about this book that I’m going crazy.

Soon I’l be back.

[mab1905]

84 Questions

original: 

https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

1. Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs

Someone New (Hozier)

Cactus Tree (Joni Mitchell)

Budapest (George Ezra)

And Dream Of Sheep (Kate Bush)

Nancy Mulligan (Ed Sheeran)

And Then She Kissed Me (St. Vincent)

Level of Concern (Twenty One Pilots)

Lovefool (The Cardigans)

Best For Last (Adele)

Video Killed The Radio Star (The Buggles)

2. If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you?

Japan. I travel a lot and it’s been on my list for a while, I would really want to go to the Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli theme park, if it ever opens that is. I would bring my best friend, Layla. I also would love to go to Amsterdam again.

3. What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen) 

My ink nib cartooning pen (similar to a quill, but without the feather)

4. Favourite month and why? 

October, not too hot, not too cold, and of course, Halloween!

5. Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them.

Nope, met several, got to true connections though. 

6. Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are.

My iPad, my Leatherman Multitool, my collection of David Bowie postcards.

7. What brand logo is closest to you currently?

The Apple logo

8. Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites?

Chess. Card games like Solitaire, Black-Jack, and Castle. A game that I can’t remember the name of but it’s essentially a board-game version of Capture The Flag. Mostly Chess.

9. A musical artist you love that isn’t well known

St. Vincent? I’m not sure if she’s well known or not.

10. A musical artist you love that is well known

David Bowie. 

11. What is your desktop background currently?

A picture of Apollo 11 accompanied by the words “It won’t fail because of me”

12. Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them

My best friend Layla, through the iMessage app.

13. First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow

Salmon

14. What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in?

My iPad, my computer, my collection of vintage stopwatches

15. What kind of headphones do you use?

Sony, wireless, noise canceling, over-the ear 

16. What musical artists have you seen perform live?

Twenty One Pilots, Sylvan Esso

17. Does virginity matter to you?

I guess? I think it’s important, it’s certainly some kind of ‘milestone,’ but I don’t think it should be treated like the scale of a persons ‘purity.’ It’s important because it’s sex, and (hopefully) that means that you’re sharing a consensual, intimate experience that feels fucking great for both (or all, if it’s more then two) participants.

18. What gaming consoles do you or your family own?

Z e r o, although I’m hoping to buy a PS4 at some point so I can play Detroit Become Human.

19. What pets do you have? What are their names?

Juno is my cat, she is an adorable grey tiger-striped shorthair. She’s got little white mitten-paws and it’s absolutely ridiculous.

20. What’s the best job you’ve ever had?

Doing tech at a local theater

21. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had?

Teaching art to little kids (I like kids but it was just exhausting)

22. What magazines do you read, if any?

The New Yorker, and the National Geo if I’m like, waiting in my doctor’s office or something.

23. Inspiration behind your URL?

It’s just my initials and a year from the Edwardian era

24. Inspiration behind your blog title?

It’s just my initials 

25. Favourite item of clothing?

My reddish-brown knit sweater vest and my floral bow-tie (often paired together)

26. Are you friends with any exes?

I made a very conscious effort to cut my exe out of my life… we were not happy for a very long time to say the least

27. Name at least one book you loved as a child.

Strega Nona, it’s about an Italian witch that makes great pasta in a magic pasta pot. My dad would read it to me and my sibling in Italian.

28. What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English)

US English

29. What email service do you use?

Gmail

30. Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in?

So many things. Here's the list:

A giant David Bowie poster, a plaque that says “David Bowie IS,” five David Bowie postcards, a giant Abbey Road poster, all of my patches from summer camp, polaroids of me, my friends, and my family (including my cat), ticket stubs from concerts and plays, two trail markers that I took off of fallen trees on two important cross-country backpacking trips I went on, playbills from a bunch of broadway shows I’ve seen, a poster that says “Stonewall was a riot,” a DC Comics poster, a Pink Floyd poster, a few paintings of mine, and a painting that I got for free from a street artist I befriended in Rome when I was twelve

31. What’s your favourite number, and why?

16, 24, 21, and 8, some numbers make me uncomfortable, but these are just very soft and light and nice 

32. Earliest moment in your life you can remember? 

A rocking chair with fruits painted on it sitting in a dark room and my great grandfathers brown leather loafers (I remember early early stuff in just images or stills, not full moments)

33. What did you have for dinner yesterday?

Pasta with shrimp

34. How often do you brush your teeth?

Usually twice a day, but I’ve been waking up later and later and sometimes forget in the mornings

35. What’s your favourite candy/chocolate?

I don’t know the name of it but it’s this chocolate bar that is stuffed with caramel, hot chili flakes, and crunchy bits of baked tortilla. It's one of the greatest things I’ve ever tasted.

36. Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently?

I used to have one but I deleted it because I never used it

37. If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat?

I would probably walk into the kitchen, realize that too eat something I would have to muster the effort to cook something instead, and then decide to just have a glass of milk instead.

38. What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of?

Downton Abbey (primarily Thommy)

Chernobyl HBO (as well as the Leonid Toptunov/Sasha Akimov subfandom)

Lord of The Rings and The Hobbit (books and movies)

CrankGamePlays

Buzzfeed Unsolved

Star Trek TOS

Philosophy Tube

The Dark Crystal and The Dark Crystal: Age Of Resistance

39. If you could study anything, what would it be?

If I had the energy to fully wrench my life in a completely different direction I would like to become a professional scuba diver and study the ocean. I already am a scuba diver, but it’s a hobby and not something I’m able to do very often at all.

40. Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick)

I’ll wear chapstick if I have a cold

41. How would you describe your sense of humour?

Intellectual and dry

42. What things annoy you more than anything else?

People who think they’re better than everyone else and people who recognize a fault in themselves and then refuse to work to change it

43. What kind of position are you in at the moment?

I’m laying on my bed, hunched over my laptop

44. Do you wear much jewellery?

Occasionally I’ll wear a necklace or a few rings. I have a lot of non-traditional bracelets (I literally just have pieces of canvas and industrial tie-line wrapped around my wrist). I’m a gay guy and I like to sort-a walk the line between feminine and masculine (often leaning more towards the masc side), so it really depends on my mood.

45. Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc)

A cheese-pizza flavored pringle is currently POTUS and every day the thought of that tears away at a piece of my soul. 

46. Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own

@shochmonster @velvet-of-the-night @panicsheerbloodypanic

47. What do you carry your money in?

My pocket, I have a wallet and I don’t use it

48. Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not?

It’s fine, don’t love it don’t hate it

49. Longest drive you have ever been on?

Three days

50. Furthest away from home you have ever been?

Went on a trip to Switzerland to visit family, I think that’s the farthest but I’m not entirely sure.

51. How many times have you moved house?

Twice

52. What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture?

Five paintings, stacks and stacks of books, boxes filled with stuff (mostly more books), plates, glasses, cutlery, clothes

53. How many devices do you own which can access the internet?

2, and iPad and a computer

54. Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy?

Listening to music

55. Is there anything that always makes you sad?

Thinking about my past for too long

56. What programs do you currently have open?

Google drive, I’m writing

57. What do you associate the colour red with?

Blood and fire

58. Last strong smell you can remember smelling?

Shrimp and butter

59. Last healthy thing you ate?

Three green olives and a handful of bean sprouts

60. Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day?

Used to drink coffee like it was life support (which it essentially was), now I’ll have the occasional cup of tea.

61. What do you associate the colour blue with?

Birds and rain

62. How long is the closest ruler you can find?

I don’t think I own one

63. What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing?

I am wearing olive green corduroy slacks

64. When was the last time you drank water?

30 minutes ago?

65. How often do you clear your browser history?

Never

66. Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic?

Nude anything can be artistic, it can also just be normal, eroticism is in the eye of the beholder.

67. Ever written fanfiction for anything?

Yes dear god so much fanfiction.

68. Last formal event you attended

I genuinely can’t remember, I am have extreme social anxiety and don’t go to events like that unless I absolutely have too

69. If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why?

I don’t care about birthdays

70. Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside?

Beach, I love to swim, I’m also a surfer

71. Roughly how many people live in your town?

Uhm… eight times the number of people who live in the state of Montana and that doesn’t count daily commuters and tourists (New York City is essentially just a tin of sardines, except inside are 8.399 million sardines)

72. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you?

No, but three of my friends were born on the day just after my birthday.

73. Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores

The Strand Bookstore, L Train Vintage, any antique shops in the town of Hudson, New York 

74. Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one?

I used to have an iPhone 5SE but then it stopped working after a few weeks of quarantine and I haven’t gotten a new one (I’ve had it for about 5-6 years so it makes sense)

75. What is your least favourite colour, and why?

I don’t have a least favorite color, but my favorite color is prussian blue

76. How do you spell grey/gray?

Grey

77. Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link)

It’s anime fanart for a show I’ve never heard of

78. What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow?

3

79. How many posts do you have?

219

80. How many posts have you liked?

619

81. Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content?

Mostly reblogs but I do my own content as well

82. Do you track any tags?

No, just blogs

83. What time is it currently?

10:39

84. Is there anything you should be doing right now?

writing

I’m not quite sure who to tag so it’s just open to anyone I guess?

[mylordshesacactus]

mirror, mirror!

ooo, big one. Y’all need to start asking for commentary on like, specific scenes or chapters so that I can get into really interesting specifics, I feel like I’m just going over stuff I’ve said before!

Anyway, Mirror Mirror. Did you guys know I get A Callout Post over this? I’ve talked about it in my, uh, posts about why callout posts are stupid. (tl;dr: someone read literally nothing but the description and tags and decided I was an abuse apologist and also probably a pedophile based off them. You know, because it’s tagged with warnings for abuse and slavery. Because it’s about a former slave helping her girlfriend to escape her abuser. No, I don’t know where “and probably a pedophile” came into this, it’s Tumblr, it’s a cesspit.)

This is one of VERY few smutty fics I’ve ever read, and basically the only one where it’s like…a plot-heavy fic with sex scenes, as opposed to a smut oneshot. It’s also one of the few where I’m not intensely embarrassed by the sex scenes, so there’s that as well.

What I usually end up talking about re: this fic is how much care went into characterization. That’s always the thing that AUs hinge on–if the characters are recognizeable, even a heavily contrived AU will be believable (arranged marriage AUs kind of depend on this, as a rule XD). But if the characterization just…doesn’t track, then it doesn’t matter how good your plot or worldbuilding is, it fails as an AU. 

And that’s really HARD when you’re doing a mirrorverse! The whole point of a mirrorverse is that it’s the Evil Is Sexy AU. But it’s not as simple as just making everyone the opposite of their usual selves. It’s a MIRROR, not opposite day. Mirror images are flipped, yes, but…When you raise your right hand, your reflection raises its left hand, not its foot. There needs to be a connection.

So in this case it was really taking everyone’s canon traits and just thinking about what their experiences would likely BE in this world–without a Jedi Order, with the prevalence of the Sith, what would their influences have been? I’ve talked a lot before about what that means for different characters who would have had different experiences, not gonna do that all again, but, that’s how you get an Anakin Skywalker who’s…got some warped morality, but is actually much more emotionally stable than in canon, and you also get Darth Luminara.

Hmm. Oh, here’s some behind-the-scenes knowledge.

Barriss’ backstory is something I never got a chance to dig into in Mirror, Mirror, only really allude to. So, here it is. Barriss was a war orphan on Mirial–there are a lot of those. A poor rural community, but with the good luck to find herself in a genuinely good orphanage–the staff were overwhelmed, but they cared, there was no abuse, they did right by their kids as best they could. Money was always…nonexistent. There were a lot of hungry weeks and cold nights, but they tried, and the kids were loved.

I imagine that Barriss, who was there from around the age of two, was given…more responsibility than was really appropriate for a girl her age. But the staff really were overwhelmed, and if they asked more of her than they should have, they did their best to make up for it, and to at least make sure she understood that what they were asking wasn’t fair.

Luminara found her when she was nine.

They tried, they really did. They tried to hide Barriss–they didn’t want her to suppress her abilities, but in this world, in this universe, Force abilities make you the target of much worse than bounty hunters and there is no Jedi Order to save you. But they were…they were in the middle of nowhere, just a snowy village in war-torn rural Mirial. They would never punish a child for simply being who she was, only impressed on her the dangers and made sure she never used her powers in front of strangers.

Of course it wasn’t enough. Of course the women who ran the orphanage were in agony for the rest of their lives wondering what they could have done differently, but the answer is honestly that Barriss was too clever and too talented and too strong in the Force. They could never have stopped this from happening.

When a Sith Lord lands in your front yard, you can’t refuse her.

(They tried. One last time. They tried to hide her. They lied to Luminara’s face–they didn’t know the Sith can read minds, how many people would have ever met a Sith Lord face to fave like that?) Luminara had every intention of killing them, but she was too pleased with what she found. Besides–she DOES have her policy of only destroying what needs to be destroyed, and more importantly she was beginning the process of brainwashing her apprentice. Slaughtering everyone Barriss had ever loved in front of her would have poisoned the well irreversibly for no good reason–it wasn’t as if they could do anything to stop her.

Just to be a bitch about it, however, she tossed them five thousand credits on her way out the door and made sure Barriss saw it. That’s more money than they would have ever seen at one time, and she knew damn well how dirty it would make those good, honest people feel even though they didn’t want it, would gladly have died trying to stop her from taking the kid if it would have saved anyone, and tried to refuse it.

(When she laughs at Barriss’ “if you wanted a slave instead of an apprentice you should have bought one” with “I did”, that’s what she’s referring to. That’s why it sets Barriss off so badly.)

Anyway, that entire village was razed to the ground less than six months later. It would be impossible to prove that Luminara had anything to do with it, but it just so happened to coincide with a young Barriss subtly–or so she thought–starting to look for information about the home she could remember. So far as Barriss knows, she just barely escaped by pure luck and her master’s generosity. Convenient.

[liloelsagranger]

Viridian Love Story - Chapter 1 (new Pokémon fanfiction)

YES! I finally wrote the first chapter of my newest fanfiction. Enjoy! English is not my mothertongue, but I try to improve my skills on a daily basis. I hope you like it. Feel free to leave a like or comment. Thanks for your support. Viridian Love Story Chapter 1: Breaking fresh ground Deep asleep with his face buried in the pillows, Ash marched through the imaginary world of his dreams. One fight after another, he pocketed victories, recognition and fame for being the best Pokémon trainer on the planet. Pikachu was sitting on his shoulder, his cheeks crackling with small electric shocks. They’ve been an invincible team for almost ten years, their friendship growing stronger with every battle, with every adventure and new challenge. He could have spent more time in his never-never land, but something pulled Ash out of his dreams. The door to his bedroom was slammed open, she rushed in like a nervous wreck, kneeling down next to him and began to shake him around.

„Ash! We’re going to be late on our first day!“ her squeaky voice made him leave the images of a successful championship behind. Ash grumbled incomprehensibly and turned to the other side, not willing to get up anytime soon. „Alright! You asked for it! Pikachu wake him up with a tiny electric shock, but not too hard, okay? He can’t show up completely burned on the university campus,“ she winked at the yellow mouse. A smile flitted over her face. After over two years of dating, she still had to get used to Ash being a morning grumper. A harsh lightning flashed through the room. Ash leaped up and down, his eyes pinched together, his hair tousled. „Okay, I’m awake, I’m awake!“ he mumbled. She ran her hand through his black mane. „Get ready, Brock’s waiting outside,“ she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek which made him blush. „Thank you, Serena,“ Ash cracked a smile. „What for?“ her question was justified. „Well, thank you for your support and your motivational speeches. I know my attitude towards school has been very tiring at times and there have been days when I really wanted to chuck my studies in, but you believed in me and you hurried me up. I mean, if it hadn’t been for you, I would have probably failed ever single entrance exam. Learning has never been my cup of coffee, but I want to make you and my mom proud,“ he stood up and walked over to his girlfriend. Her eyes shone dangerously. Ash cupped her face and kissed her. „Ash,“ she reached for his hand. „We’re already proud of you! You’ve achieved so much over the past couple of years. I’m sure you will complete your studies successfully. From the wide range of subjects they offer, you’ve definitely chosen the right one. You’re going to be an ambitiuous coach. Classes like history of Pokémon battles and a top-notch education in attacks, conditions and ideal habitats of our Pokémon friends will enrich your knowledge! And I’m going to work hard on my art theoretical and practical training and become a highly respected show case performer. It’s a cinch!“ Somenone knocked on the door, interrupting their intimate moment. Mrs. Ketchum was carrying two lunch bags and tumblr cups. „Good morning, my sweetheart,“ Ash rolled his eyes, but his mother was visibly bursting with pride. „Today, you embark on your new journey,“ she could hardly hide her joy. Pikachu jumped on Ash’s shoulder, he grabbed the lunch bag and did everything in his power to avoid an embarrassing kiss goodbye. „Bye mom. See you this evening,“ he, Serena and Brock waved farewell, taking their path to the future. Meanwhile, Team Rocket was eagerly awaiting a call from Giovanni. They hadn’t been instructed with a new mission yet, but, to be honest, Jessie was mentally miles away from their next task. She couldn’t forget that night four weeks ago, that night that changed her attitude towards James forever. Nervously tapping her fingers on the keyboard, she recalled her memories. - FLASHBACK –

„To you, Jessie! To the thoughest and most fiery woman on earth!“ James slurped down the wine in one go. She noticed that he started to babble. He had been pledging toasts to her for the last hour, they’ve gotten wittier and quirkier with every refill. Catching a horde of Noibats and sending them to their boss without further incidents had gone to his head, or maybe it was just the wine speaking from him. Jessie laughed, tears in her eyes. He enjoyed the sound of her infectious laugh, it made her even more attractive. Years had gone by where he missed every chance to approach her, but tonight was the night, he could feel it. ‚Screw the past, James thought, ‚screw the reluctance and anxiety.’ Jessie looked at him, something in his gaze made her heart beat faster. She spotted desire, longing, excitement, but also a hint of insecurity and doubt. As soon as their eyes met, James became quiet. He looked at her, he seemed to scan her from head to toe. She got nervous, he stirred her blood. Slowly and very cautiously, he closed up on her. Their faces were only inches apart, she could smell the sweet taste of their plonk in James’ breath. He carefully wiped a wisp of hair behind her ear. „Jessie,“ James whispered scarcely audible. She breathed in sharply. The goofy boy had gone, the pathetic guy who was obsessed with his bottle cap collection had disappeared, Jessie was sitting opposite a man. A man with a clear goal in mind. James wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her so close their bodies would touch. He didn’t move, but was only gazing deep into her eyes. She could feel his firm grip, his fingers slowly sliding along the rim of her skirt. A wave of unstoppable excitment shot through her body. She got hot and cold at the same time. Tonight was the night... James leaned in and kissed her. At first, he kissed her tentatively and carefully, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to force her, he only wanted her to feel safe and secure in his arms. Many men had broken her heart, had exploited her and her goodwill, but he was different. James tightened his grip, as she laid a hand on his thigh. He felt aroused, he moaned at her lips. Barley overwhelmed, she bundled all her passion in this kiss. Jessie’s hand embraced his neck, she played with his lavender locks, attrackted by the scent of bitter herbs. James’ fingers slipped underneath her shirt. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, he was gasping for breath. „James, what are we doing?“ he didn’t answer, he pulled the shirt over her head. „Trust me,“ his breath was puffy. Their lips met again, their kisses were keen and intense. What happened to him? Jessie didn’t recognize this self-confident man. Any insecurity and tension had left his body. She decided to relish the moment, to enjoy James’ overtures for which she had waited so long. Tomorrow, everything would be forgotten, they would follow the same old and boring rut. He pulled her down very gently, caressing her cheek and smiling shyly as if he knew how akward it looked. They made out, forgetting about their failures, about their misdeeds and losses. His hands were everywhere. Infinitely slowly, he placed kisses down her neck. Jessie groaned pleasurabely. Finally, after so many years, he had made a pass at her. She got rid of his shirt, her nails running down his naked breast. „Criminally hot, heh?“ she teased him. James understood her hint and laughed. It was a new sensation they were feeling. They couldn’t stop kissing, they couldn’t stop exploring each other and then the next day dawned...

-  END OF FLASHBACK –

James never said another word about it. He had successfully supressed it, like always. The shadows of his past had caught up with him again. He looked at her. „Everything okay, Jess?“ he wondered, rummaging around his tool box. She nodded silently. Meowth didn’t get any of that, but he smelled a rat. He kept a stiff upper lift, but sooner or later he would probe them. The shrill ringing of the phone brought them back to reality. „Hello,“ Jessie answered the call, swallowing hard. „Jessie, James and Meowth!“ Giovanni stressed their names disapprovingly. „Well done! That horde of Noibats was used for a good cause, BUT, you haven’t sent me new Pokémon in weeks! Your capture rate has once again reached its lowes point,“ he was in a very bad temper. Their knees were shaking. „Sorry, boss,“ James was the first to find his shaky voice. „Sorry, boss,“ Giovanni parroted him. „I give you one more chance! Not far from your base is a renowned university that specialized in Pokémon training and breeding, which means there are dozens of mighty creatures romping about the campus. Now, listen to me. It’d be foolish to try to catch them one by one. We need them all at once. You’ve got to figure out a plan!“ He hung up the phone with no further insturctions. Team Rocket exchanged irritated looks. „How are we supposed to do that?“ James asked. A mischievious grin appeared on Meowth’s face. „I’ve got a cunning plan...“ „Kiss me and tell me you’ll miss me,“ Serena hugged her boyfriend. He gave her a kiss on her forehead and bade farewell to her for their classes would take place in different buildings.

Ash was the first one to enter the empty class room, at least he thought it was empty, but on closer inspection he noticed someone sitting in the corner of the room. He wanted to greet this young woman, wanted to introduce himself and ask her about subjects she would take. But at second sight, he paused to think. The past knocked on his door. She seemed completely intimidated, introverted, her red hair hanging loose over her shoulder. None of the strong girl he once new was left, but he recognized her right away. His jaw dropped. „Misty?“ To be continued...?

[nvrcixv]

a narcissa black intro post

( milena tscharntke, eighteen, cis-female ) my goodness, is NARCISSA BLACK back? it’s been a while since the PUREBLOOD has been around the castle, but I’d recognize HER anywhere. rumor has it the FIFTH YEAR spent the years aligned with the NEUTRALS. but I hear they’re still DUTIFUL & ELEGANT and SEVERE & CONTRADICTORY. and the SLYTHERIN still reminds me of a mist of overwhelming perfume, the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence, the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum, a lump catching in a dry throat, an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting, and lips plump with an unnatural red. well, then, I guess some things never change.

hey,  hey,  you guys! i’m alex and i’ll be bringing narcissa here. i’ve been rping on tumblr for a long time, marauders era has always been my favorite.  i have a lot of passion for strong, bad bitches, they’re my jam. so i’m excited to play ice queen narcissa. i’m down for all sorts of plots, especially stuff that springs up organically. mostly because i’m a terrible, disorganized mess of a planner. i’m a bartender, so weekends can get busy for me, but lbr i’m always lurking on mobile.

you can contact me on here in those dms, or my discord is @ alex //#7484

character inspiration: sansa stark (got), eleanor young / astrid leong-teo (crazy rich asians), amy march (little women)

check out her ( pinterest )

whelve: (v.) to bury something deep; to hide

the positive (+): dutiful, elegant, meticulous, thoughtful, subtle, self-assured, immovable, proud, practical

the negative (-): severe, contradictory, deceitful, vengeful, cold, bitter, haughty, petty, narcissitic

aesthetic inspiration: a mist of overwhelming perfume; the gentle clatter of fine dishes breaking a tense silence; the awed quiet that fills every corner of a museum; a lump catching in a dry throat; an ornate frame distracting from a dark themed painting; lips plump with an unnatural red; the gentle clink of pearls; lipstick smudged on the lip of a teacup; thickly gilded frames; delicate fingers brushing aside wisps of hair; pointed heels abandoned at the bottom of a staircase; forced laughter through painted lips; a paintbrush gliding over a crisp canvas; skirts skating over cream-colored thighs; half filled decanters; a thorn pricking an unsuspecting fingertip; the slow build of a concerto; hedges cut to blunt perfection

your girl’s eyeliner is sharp as knives, lips red as bluuud, nails filed to perfection, heart cold, and her smile sweet enough to eat.

you’ve heard it before, narcissa is stone cold. the world could be tumbling around her and this blonde would remain  unshaken.  she is a proud and stalwart figure in the face of chaos. she’s rather good in a crisis, she has to be with a family like her’s and in these dark days. many imagine her to be weak, a simple creature meant for beautiful things. the wilting flower of the black family tree. at one time she might have been, but those who know her properly know her to be someone to look towards in uncertainty.

but she is also a hopeless romantic gone to rot. she is distant, as untouchable as a masterpiece in the museum that is her picture perfect life. a thing more suitable for admiration than intimacy. she is cold, stoic, and strong, but also lonely.

there is a feeling that no matter your connection to narcissa, that no matter your efforts, there is always something hidden within that she is keeping to herself. and it’s true. there is nothing narcissa would willingly show that she didn’t want people to see.

she insecure and stressed about public image like that.

she is also haughty.  

if there’s anything her cousin has taught her, to bloom is to die. she pictures his  escape   and subsequent increase in happiness to be the height of abandonment, of betrayal. how dare he go one to enjoy things without her! how dare he leave. how dare he leave her wanting and missing and heartbroken. she truly misses him and yet goes to great lengths to never reveal her secrets, instead giving her true feelings the form of petty anger and feigned indifference.

the family she’d been proud to be a member of, is crumbling to ash with this war. but if anyone were to care enough to ask, she is grateful for her lot in life. a smile always quick to slide into place, polished and content for the pre-destined plan.

with her current family a shambles, she is afraid to even think of putting together a new family, the arranged marriage in her future is as terrifying as it is inevitable. she feels as though she will lose everything, her family name, the constant presence of her sisters, and her childhood.  it feels like a demotion in title and status after all the notoriety that comes with being a  black.  not to mention her own parents suffering remains fresh as a wound, she can’t imagine she shall ever be happy. why should she be?  indoctrinated as she is, she has eyes.  everything she has witnessed could never be called ideal, as much as it was framed that way. while hope is not her strong suit, narcissa is very capable of love

it’s not often used to describe her, but narcissa is rather selfless and giving towards her loved ones. it’s a redeeming quality that is almost enough to counteract her many failings as a more acceptable version of a kind person. she does, in fact, love and wants to be loved in return.

her removal from hogwarts had been a frightening prospect, as it put a big wrench in the plans that had been set out for her. she was too young and with her education incomplete all meant she was able to put off her marital duties off for the time being

with the last two years open to her, narcissa was quick to move to france to study abroad at beauxbatons. the move was good for her. freeing. the separation from her family allowed the growth of some independence and the fostering of her own interests. she was fully immersed in paris’ culture, language, food, and beauty.

as a lover of  all things immaculate, a seeker of perfection, narcissa is enamored with art. she already has amassed a collection that could rival the lourve, and often travels to find new additions. it’s a lifestyle only the sickeningly wealthy could afford. the high art, port wine and lavish hotels in distant locations are her own form of escape. the one bright spot in the dreariness that the war has driven all of london into. but “a golden cage is still a cage” and her happiness often fades the moment it comes

she’s an amateur painter herself, talented and content with the process of painting the perfect picture, figuratively and literally. but this is a secret ambition. the act unsuitable and beneath a lady such as herself. there is too much mess. stains, dyed fingertips and an acrid smell. as beautiful as the end result might be, her parents would surely disapprove of the mess she’d make to get there. so like everything else, she hides the messy parts away. it’s not much of a rebellion, but it’s as much as she’s capable of at the moment. her family just means more to her than what she sees as selfish wants rather than the productive creativity and voice to her thoughts that she really needs.

tw child abuse: her childhood was as fraught with abuse as the next black. intelligence was punishable, sharp wit was always met with a slap to rattle her teeth.

her worth was reduced to image and status from the beginning. the cruel parenting taught her to close her lips and open her eyes more. she is observant, and thoughtful. her taste impeccable and judgement rather quick.

narcissa is both good and bad in many ways. love to hate or hate to love her, she’s an anti-villian

tl;dr; narcissa a bitch but like?? the kind you would be begging to step on you

connections:

girl gang – give her all the best friends. the nicole to her paris. soul sisters. ovaries before brovaries. hymen heroines. those hoes she lives and breathes for. i think typically this would be fellow slytherins or ppl that she met through pureblood high society connections. OPEN  

ex-boyfriend/girlfriend – ew this makes me sad and emotions are hard to deAL. basically this will be all angst city. most likely narcissa would be the one to break things off since she usually caves to that familial pressure. depending on how their relationship was, she could regret it or be cold about it. or maybe they were using her? i could see either ( or both! gasp ) working. OPEN

rival/frenemies – these two are just too similar to get along. toxic pureblood society has pitted them against each other and no one is winning. okay but if they went from enemies, to reluctant respect, to almost friends?? MAYBE EVEN FRIENDS EVENTUALLY?? i would be here for it asdlk  OPEN

confidante – narcissa isn’t honest with anyone, not even herself. but this could be someone that she’s probably known for a long time who she possibly could’ve opened up to in a weak moment and now they’re bonded forever. she would feel indebted to this person for keeping her secrets and would do her best to protect them any way that she could. extra feelings if this person feels the same way and they can be sad, but also cLOSE, together. OPEN

secret school friend – maybe they were forced partners as prefects or a fateful potions class but narcissa found herself making a surprising friend in an unexpected place. they spoke for years and she couldn’t help admiring their persistence despite her reluctance and occasional snobbery. but now they’re older and she really should cut things off. for whatever reason, she just can’t let go. OPEN

banter partner – alright so this would be someone from the other side of the war that narcissa runs into all the time and they always seem to get into arguments! she’s not quite sure why they get under her skin but narcissa finds it difficult to step away from their confrontations. OPEN

muse – listennnn. this person would be someone that narcissa would just be enamored with, she would regard them very highly and make efforts to speak with them and be around them. if this person were on the other side of the war she would probably resent them a little but be unable to resist.  i’ll probably just spring this on somebody tbh?? since the relationship would be based on her own tastes. but this would be someone that narcissa would admire for their appearance– sure, but also for the aura that they project.

but yes!! promo over, thanks for reading loves! can’t wait to write with you all!

[thesinglesjukebox]

BILLIE EILISH - BAD GUY

[6.93]

The Jukebox has thoughts on Billie Eilish? Well, duh.

Andy Hutchins: Nothing clicked for me with Billie Eilish until "Bad Guy." I understood the appeal intellectually, because it has sometimes been my wheelhouse: "Prodigy-cast makes off-kilter pop music from a perspective with more than a little precociousness and possibly a feminine spin that serves to disrupt rather than reify" is my jam for months at a time, sometimes. But some combination of prodigy and precociousness sometimes striking me as preciousness -- something that I've occasionally found issue with in the work of Sky Ferreira and Solange and Lorde and Cher Lloyd and fka twigs and Haim and Kacey Musgraves and Lana Del Rey and so many women who have occupied this same treacherous lane where deviating from delivering what is expected from a young woman making pop music can offend the sensibilities (or engage the biases) of even someone who has strained to stave off the stupidity of dismissing music made by young women and largely intended for young women -- and what I read as a deliberately dark and standoffish aesthetic put me off of Eilish, whose stuff just didn't compel me. Everything clicks for me with Billie Eilish now that I've heard "Bad Guy," which I reckon is pathetic on my part, because so much of the DNA of "Bad Guy" is in other work she's done that the things that differentiate it as The Hit and The Breakthrough come down to tempo and a kooky synth run in the hook that every third YouTube commenter thinks is stolen from Plants vs. Zombies. But "Bad Guy" is also an unassailable pop song and has come along at a time when bulletproof ones are not occupying the charts -- the closest competition in the current top 40 by my sight is, like, a Katy Perry song whose verses let down its magnificent hook, a bunch of drowsy-to-dire Khalid and Halsey tunes, a C- effort from Taylor Swift, and a microwaved Lizzo track that I've known of for a while and don't consider her best stuff -- and so it stands out even more from the pop metagame than the larger Eilish oeuvre does from a host of less realized tunes. And I'm a sucker for an unassailable pop song, especially one with a vocal initially delivered so low that it demands attention to the dial in the car but that is by turns brightly funny ("...duh!") and world-weary and campy to the hilt (the titular phrase being stretched to a titanium crocodile's rasp), a relentless bass line that sounds like a monster's heartbeat echoing in a cave, and lyrics that constitute a semi-sincere embrace of some Lolita tropes and a more powerful sarcastic destruction of them while somehow also being fully ready for Instagram captions and Twitter display names and ... well, no one's on Tumblr anymore. But that's hardly Billie's fault, and I'm not docking points for only barely failing to raise the dead with a virtuosic song that makes me this glad to be alive. [10]

Alfred Soto: There's a reason this song has become the breakout hit besides its insidious keyboard hook: Billie Eilish sings not mumbles the gender bending hook. Otherwise a ditty that the top 40 could use more of; its quietness is a tonic. [8]

Joshua Copperman: Sounds great, looks great (if possibly plagarized), memes great. The deadpan anti-sexuality of "might-seduce-your-dad type" is "Guys My Age" done right. The delivery of "my soul, so cynical" like even that is too earnest of a statement. The only weak part is the ending switch-up. But you knew all that already. Duh. Besides the cries of "industry plant!" there's also the ongoing sense that Eilish is a music writers' idea of what a 17-year-old Tumblr-born pop star would sound like. And sure, she's a young music writers' dream; I have a byline at Billboard because of her. But also, it's genuinely smart music that is mostly set to age well, even if it's hard to tell if it m a t t e r s. Who knows what 17-year-olds of any predilection towards seducing dads are actually listening to; I'm 21 and finding that out is only getting more difficult, if maybe not more necessary. If teens still control popular culture, if anyone does, who knows if this really does reflect them, or if its bottomless angst is mocked like Limp Bizkit? Is "Bad Guy" just "Heathens" for the late-2010s? Does this really represent the next generation? And which next generation; the shit-talking saviors, or the ones just like their parents and the radicalized alt-right kids? There's no easy answer to any of these, no "duh" to shrug them off. But there is Eilish and co. applying the daily grind of apocalyptic dread to smaller-scale topics. Processing death on "Bury a Friend," processing one's own body image on "idontwannabeyouanymore," processing changing gender roles here. Finding your place in 2019 is a lot for anyone. No one is getting it right. What Eilish does instead is turn that uncertainty to playfulness, confidently existing within the mess instead of trying to find her spot. [8]

Leah Isobel: I was on Tumblr in 2011, so "might seduce your dad type" doesn't feel as provocative as she might intend. (Also, Halsey did the exact same thing.) Besides, pop is a space for fantasy and role-playing, and she's not the first 16-year old bad girl to make adults freak out a little. What gets me is that the song itself is a brilliant production piece in search of an equally compelling melody; the biggest hooks here are an audible eye-roll and a Tim Burton rip. I love the idea of Billie as a goth-teen-pop star, and the choice to swerve into a spooky outro instead of a more traditional structure is genuinely a lot of fun, but this all feels like so much posturing -- normal for a teenager, but not that compelling to listen to on its own. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: If Billie Eilish is the Gen Z Fiona Apple, which I've heard from about three separate people even before the Discourse started, then "Bad Guy" is her "Criminal," down to it being creep flypaper. Everyone quotes that one dad line a bit too eagerly, like they're subconsciously thinking that if they have the pithiest take they just might get to be the dad. (It isn't even the most suggestive line.) There's a strong case for the dad being the bad guy, if only because he's, well, the guy. But "Bad Guy" lives in the world of teenage politics, where the guys just are and the girls get their badness thrust upon them, and their choices are to shrink away or play along. Duh. ("Bad Guy" : "duh" :: "Your Love Is My Drug" : "I like your beard.") But all this is pretty serious analysis for a fundamentally trolly song: half-mumbling the melody to a beat I'm pretty sure I made in a high school to go with a video project; rhyming bad/mad/sad/dad like a Mavis Beacon keyboarding tutorial (or whatever the kids have now; maybe they're just born typing); crooning an exceedingly Lana Del Rey-ish "I'm only good at being bad" then immediately cutting that crap for a bassy, fuck-off breakdown; filling only about 60% of the song with, like, song. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Not the most impressive or cohesive Billie Eilish song, but it is the one most likely to remind you of how fun her music can be (that she included the Invisalign skit in the video helps). The coda is fine, but the best reversal is found elsewhere: the nonchalant cries of duh followed by a cartoonish synth melody, underlining just how playful the song's darker elements are. [6]

Josh Langhoff: Eilish sometimes sounds like the Cardigans if they only did Black Sabbath covers, "evil" squeezed between an extra set of scare quotes, and sometimes she's Nellie McKay on downers, ennui shaped like wit but without the laughs. Sometimes she's good and sometimes she sings ballads. And somehow that combination produced "Bad Guy," the elusive Somehow Perfect Pop Song That Sounds Like Nothing Else On The Radio. I can't say I love it, but all her murmuring and posturing makes Top 40 radio seem, after too many years, like a playground of endless possibility. What'd we do to deserve this and "Old Town Road"? [8]

Jessica Doyle: Yes. Some are red, and some are blue. Some are old, and some are new. Some are sad, and some are glad, and some are very, very bad. Why are they sad and glad and bad? I do not know. Go ask why that menacing bass and Eilish's whisper didn't deserve better lyrics. [4]

Tobi Tella: Billie Eilish's artistic direction and style of music makes it seem almost impossible for her to make a legitimate banger, but this fits in perfectly with the rest of her album tone-wise and also completely slaps. The simplicity of the production, literally created in a bedroom just adds to the perfect low-key vibe. The lyrics do make Billie sound a little like a teenager who will cringe reading them in 10 years, but as an 18 year old, sometimes doing stupid stuff you know is destructive and immature is FUN, and this completely captures that feeling. [8]

Will Adams: I love love love the idea of this shifty, close mic'd oddball dancepop song being as big of a mainstream hit as it is, even if it's one of the more slight offerings from the album. Extra point for the coda, where Billie drops the coy and reminds you how quick she is to put her foot on your neck. [7]

Pedro João Santos: The coda lamentably inverts the light heart of "Bad Guy": the colourful, whispered titillation conjugated with what's left unsaid, a sort of puerile pleasure dutifully translated by the Theremin-esque synths; not the heady, overlong consummation that it unfolds onto by the end. I must say I'm exhilarated that someone knew how to ape "Las de La Intuición" nearly 15 years on, although startled by the fact that it was Billie Eilish the one to do it. [7]

Scott Mildenhall: Done well, it's enjoyable to hear a musician having such fun, but especially so when one unexpected element of a song comes in to underline just how much fun they're having. In this case, it's the gloopy searchlight noise, playing out like the theme tune to a 1970s cop show set in space, in a way that cannot be anything but gleefully goofy. Such bold and playful invention is something pop music would suffer without. Extra points for the consideration to leave a gap before the outro so that radio stations can cut it out. [8]

Iris Xie: I still think this song should've been cut off at the 2:14 mark, because it said everything it needed to say. [5]

Katie Gill: That purposefully obnoxious "duh" sums up what Eilish wants to say more than the rest of the song combined (and is currently in the running for my favorite 2 seconds of 2019 pop music). This image of her as the bad guy isn't serious. It's bratty and playful, more her creating something she can have fun with instead of taking herself seriously. Unfortunately, that something interesting here is buried in a three minute piece that somehow manages to be three completely different songs which never actually coheres to a single whole. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[cowandcalf]

H50 9.02 - Steve’s Oath

It’s this one scene that won’t let me rest. It’s always there, at the back of my head, poking, nudging my thoughts. After I’ve watched the episode last Friday I was all in to write another one-shot with Steve’s thoughts, but it would have eaten up too much time and because I’m busy with other writing on my to-do list I’ll go with a post on Tumblr. I try to explain what keeps my mind busy after I watched this scene with Steve and Greer in the interrogation room for a second and a third time.

During all the episodes of the last eight seasons, I’ve never experienced this special feeling that has been stirred to life watching this one scene, watching Steve and his reaction when Greer talks to him about her reasons why she has chosen another way, to regroup with the enemy. It’s nothing new to Steve to deal with people who have turned their back on their belief and their oath but this talk shifted something in Steve’s soul.

In a former episode Steve talked about his country, his America he as given the oath to serve and to protect. He was referring to it as she/her - “You swore to protect her and defend her.” Something like that. It’s always a moving moment to listen to Steve when he talks about his country he would give his life to protect. And America isn’t just a country to Steve, no, it’s a purpose to live for. To serve is in his bones, it’s something ancient that buzzes hidden but rhythmically in Steve’s cells and pulses through his whole body. It’s in his genes. (I dare to dramatically emphasize it like that.)

I’ve spent a lot of time to ponder about Steve and his dedication to being a servant for his mother country. And I try to catch this spark, this notion which is there but so very difficult to form into words. I never will fully understand what goads Steve to freely hand over his heart and his soul and serve as a SEAL. I’m not good at Military stuff and all the Navy and Naval intelligence information, ranks and what comes with all the education. But I’m good at reading people and I’m good with emotions. I try to make my explanation work.

I dare to say that nobody, not even Danny, nobody but Steve’s SEAL buddies know and understand what moves Steve when it comes to America and his duty to protect her. Freddie Heart was in tune with the same dedication. Steve’s motivation could be compared to the knight of the blackboard serving their king, King Arthur.

The oath Steve has sworn stays above everything else - and I mean everything. This oath has this touch of divinity and I also dare to say, that the attitude, this inner need, which forces Steve to make such a choice is the glue that holds Steve’s soul together. (And I don’t know if Steve had had the choice to be a SEAL without being sent away if he had made that choice and if he had followed that path - a whole other thread to talk about.) It’s in his genes to bow to such a task in the way he does.

To be a servant needs humbleness, it needs a pureness of a kind that’s very rare. There is loyalty and honestly and never ever is there a rear exit and a chance to change the mind. It’s not about what they choose, this is about what they are - what Steve is.

I’ve read the Artus Trilogy by Gillian Bradshaw (one of the best ever) and there is Gawain (he reminds me of Steve) - and he stole my heart. His story moved me beyond words and the love he has for his king is so big, that I won’t find the right words to describe what drives him closer and closer to King Arthur, with this single aim, this intense wish: to be a knight for his king, to present him his life and to fight for him, to die for him. I’ve never found more accurate words which are able to describe this dedication, to paint the undying love with words, to let me feel this everlasting and divine love, this fearless strength, this stamina to stand proud for their king, to fight till the last drop of blood, to defend their king with every inch of their soul. In the end, Gawain he’s one of King Arthur’s knights, his closest and his most dreaded knight, who goes berserk in battle, feeling no pain, no fear, being inhumanly strong - to fight for his King. Just like Steve and the way he fights for his country and for his people.

Steve’s belief in his country, in his oath, in his choice is set in stone, immovable and everlasting. He doesn't have seconds thoughts. He has never had them.

Betrayal of trust, to sell out this said oath, this belief in America is unforgivable for Steve. Btw, if I had to describe America in a mystique way I’d say: she is this female, ageless entity, old and beautiful and precious, a wise lady who truly owns Steve’s heart (like Galadriel from LOTR). Once someone has crossed this line, there’s never a way back. Steve suffers every loss of his fellow comrade.

And Greer was such a comrade and even a special one because he had feelings for her. This group of unique members speaking a language of their own, trusting each other with their lives, blindly and unconditionally. This group is small - and it gets smaller and smaller. Steve doesn’t have new comrades. The tightest bond has been build during his training and education days, during becoming a SEAL and being sent on missions. The group members get diminished and each and everyone who is lost to betrayal destroys something in Steve’s soul.

Greer’s betrayal destroys a part of Steve. It came out of the blue, unexpected - detonating like a meteorite in his heart. I’m sure he would have sworn under oath that she’s an honest soul. I guess the shock to misinterpret her character was as big as a shock as to find out she works together with the Chinese. Steve tries to fight all the fallout. And in the end, there is disgust, antipathy, and a deep-rooted aversion. This chasm isn’t to pass ever again. Steve won’t let this person back into his inner world. It’s over - forever.

But Greer does not only cut deep into Steve’s soul by turning her back on everything his life is built upon, there is something else she causes - it’s way crueler (from my point of view): she’s planted a seed of doubt in Steve’s soul when she said: “You think you’re such a good guy, Steve. But you’ve done things. Bad things. You can tell yourself they were in the name of doing some greater good. But were they, really?”

I have to admit that Greer has a point with what she's saying. And Steve doesn't want to hear it. His doubts flair up, being there, hovering in the air for a fraction of a second and I can almost see him squash them down where they can never arise again. I get the impression that Steve has a movie, racing through his mind, with all the terrible things he'd done in the name of this greater good, in the name to defend America, his Lady. I got the impression that Steve watches all the action, all his past (or at least a part of it) from a different angle for the first time in life. And maybe it's also because he has suffered so many losses and so many betrayals: from his mother, from Catherine and now from Greer. He desperately needs to understand, what the hell is wrong!?

Freddie got killed in action and cut a hole in Steve's heart. So far, he has faced every tragedy but somehow Greer and her speech get to him. And I wouldn't wonder if, for the shortest amount of time, there was an understanding forming in Steve’s mind why she did it. Or let me say, he wishes to understand because everything else kills him and chokes him and he can't grasp the logic, the hurt, and the failed trust.

I can't get rid of the image of the "Last Man Standing" when the world went to shit and crumbles to dust and there's only Steve trying to find kindred spirits to not feel so alone anymore.

Something bad has happened in Marrakesh and Steve hates to be reminded and his question "You threatening me?" tells me about this bad shit, that something epic went down and it went south and somehow Steve was able to sit on that lid of that pandora box and kept everything hidden and stored away – until now.

Have you ever witnessed this odd, strangely unfamiliar expression on Steve's face? He seems torn as if the memories itself deform his face, and suddenly this onslaught of memories are attacking him from different angles. And the worst is to know that his ally has just turned his back on him, being a fraud and a terrible disappointment. Two heavy blows to his heart. Again, Steve stands alone, bereft of this invisible strength that always keeps him upright. It's part of his backbone, this belief in his country and in his oath and in his comrades.

I can't get rid of the feeling that Steve starts to think about his actions and if it was the right thing to do. I guess I could go on for another hour, but the most important fact from this scene is the way Steve's inner world crashes down. Losing Greer to the enemy has a severe effect on how Steve sees himself - I guess? At least I've got the impression that he's struggled a moment, stumbled and caught himself. He walks tall again, but there's this heaviness now wafting around his chest. Something is off, and it worries him deeply.

And Danny – Danny can't help him, because Danny doesn't belong to this world. The Navy is like a separate realm in Steve's mind and in his life. He only can share openly with comrades who have sworn the same oath.

I'm interested what others think about this scene. Have I exaggerated? Have I interpreted too much into that scene? And after I've written that long essay, I'm still convinced that this scene was so painful for Steve because again, it has caused a major shift in his tectonic plates within his soul.

[lunaathorne]

Out of curiosity can I ask WHY some sectors of Bollywood tumblr don’t like Katrina Kaif? She seems cool so I’m just wondering

This needs to be answered in some detail and I shall do so. You’ve woken the dragon.

I’m assuming you are new to Bollywood; in which case: here’s the rundown- Katrina Kaif is an Indo-British actress, one of Bollywood’s most easily recognisable faces, highest paid actresses and one with a higher success ratio than many contemporaries. She is hailed as one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful Bollywood actress of the still active crop.Why do people hate her? To answer that, I’ll divide the people who are against Katrina into some broad categories:

1. “She is beautiful but that’s it”

There are many who feel Katrina represents the Eurocentric standards of beauty with her fair complexion and British accent (I quote from one of her own films “Silky hair, milky skin- she’s like a walking-talking vanilla ice cream”). In most of her films, it is her aesthetic than her acting abilities that is celebrated because- there can be no other way to put this- she is absolutely, ridiculously beautiful. Fitoor, where Katrina played Estella Havisham was like a two hour photoshoot of Kat, a sort of tribute to her beauty where the cameraman seemed to be enamored by her (reportedly, although it is a rumour, Rekha, the original choice for Miss Havisham, walked out because she felt Katrina was looking too beautiful, overshadowing her…..sounds ridiculous but the fact that such a rumour should spread shows the public image of Katrina’s presentation in films, as the art rather than the artist). Shobaa De called her “as beautiful as an English rose…and just as dull”.

Why is this bothering? Well, there are thousands of amazing, dark skinned aspiring Indian actresses who are still shamed for their complexion and denied major movie roles. Where Katrina is held as the ideal of beauty, people like Radhika Apte and Huma Qureshi are treated looks-wise with some disdain.  It’s an Ashara Dayne- Elia Martell case.What is ironical is that in no way is this Katrina’s fault. What people twist into her flaw is really a revelation of our sick mentality where till this day we worship peachy complexions and turn our noses down on anything less than porcelain-pale. Also, pretty much all our so-called “desi” stars have endorsed fairness creams, often through advertisements that target dark people as pitiful creatures. So, as Abhay Deol rightly called them out, it’s not the biracial Katrina herself per se, but the societal standards that have brought about this sad state of affairs.

2. “She piggybanks on others”

Ah, a classic. Since her debutante days, Katrina did largely minor roles in male-dominated films (mostly Salman or Akshay) the mindset is that she has attained her success because of them. To an extent I agree that Salman did serve as her godfather for her earlier career but??? to reduce her to Salman’s charity project is unfair, unjust and demeaning. And Katrina cannot win, no matter what she does. She was great in Namastey London? Well, she was just playing herself. (How criminal that an Indo-Brit should play an Indo-Brit. Tsk. The times.) She was great in New York? Well, Kabir Khan is her sugar daddy, we been knew. She was great in Raajneeti/ZNMD? But it was a multi-starrer! Tiger Zinda Hai? Ah, she finally scored a hit with a meaty role but….it was SALMAN BHAI who helped her! 

While almost every actress or actor has had a godfather of some sort, Katrina faces the brunt of it because she has scored so many hits, nay, blockbusters.  Instead of appreciating how she holds her own beside them, everything she does is a direct result of their godly manna. Her success is parried down to the Khans, long after she has become her own woman. Cruelly, when she does embark on brave projects with strong roles, the audience roll their eyes and ignore it- refer to when I went to watch Phantom (counter-terrorism drama, one of Kat’s best) at the theatre and one guy, I swear, remarked “it’d be more fun if she took off her clothes”. Also refer to Fitoor where one person, who was clearly unaware of either Great Expectations or the character of Estella, said that Katrina is acting stone-cold towards the hero cause she can’t act at all.

This, coupled with the Barbie doll image, has led to Katrina being projected as a sweet but altogether passive person. She doesn’t do “fiery roles” of empowering acts. She serves Sansa instead of Daenerys. And we all know how that goes. Fun fact: Katrina now is nothing less than the Diana Prince of Bollywood, an action queen through and through and her recent project TZH had her snatch wigs, purses and weaves away from Salman Bhai’s altar. BBC London mentioned her to be the best part of the film, as did most critics. Her role in MBKD had been cited  as one of the most interesting female  roles of 2011. Meanwhile Bollywood Tumblr “sHe cAN onLY dANCe”. 

3.“she is a diva with attitude”

Apparently people have had some bad experiences with Kat who is known to be very private and guarded. Recently a woman in Vancouver insulted her and told her to improve her attitude. There are also several anonymous users on Quora who posted that she is rude at the airport. I have not personally met her but I was lucky enough to interact with some fans who did and they all assured me she was graceful and kind. I do not know if she is rude at airports or in the gym or whatnot; what I do know is that almost all her co-stars said that she is a sheer delight to work with. What I do know is that she provided food and water to paps who were waiting outside her house in the hot sun. What I do know is that I visited a publishing house because I was lucky enough to win some merch signed by her and one of the journalists there, a friend of mine, said that Katrina is one of the most polite stars she’d ever met, dignified, cheerful, guarded yet friendly. In an industry where female stars are thrown into a veritable fighting pit since their debut, she is close to almost all the leading actresses and has an excellent rapport with them. She gets along famously well with every co-star, not easy when you have worked with such a wide variety of them. Just see her Instagram, it’s mostly Kat hyping everybody else.

4. “RANPIKA BROKE UP CAUSE OF HER!” “SALMAN BHAI, LITERAL HUMAN ANGEL WAS DEVASTATED BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T STAY WITH HIM!” “SHE DOESN’T DESERVE SALMAN!” “SHE DOESN’T DESERVE ANYBODY!”

Scum of the Earth. Please do ignore if the anti arguments fall along this line. They are usually the type of stans who lick the star’s shoes clean with their own drooble if needed, act as if they have been privy witness to every detail of their fave’s life, do not understand toxic relationships, calling them ‘cute bantering’, and like to slut shame women for a pastime, while ignoring abusers and criminals at the same time.

5. “She’s undeserving of the success she enjoys, cause she is a pathetic actress”

A very interesting segment of antis had risen during the time Katrina won the prestigious Smita Patil award for her contribution to cinema. Their self-righteous claim was that there were a thousand other deserving actresses who should have won. They fail to see that Katrina’s hard work and investment has paid off, and thus they reduce her to her male colleagues, her beauty, her sex appeal. These antis are of the overall same degree and type as those who still believe Kristen Stewart is a bad actress. Y'know, the ones who sigh in faux-piety and go “he/she’s cancelled” about 50 times a day. These are the ones without perspective, who do not see the point of growth and influence. By that logic, anybody with diligence who lacks a natural-born ability should be a useless liability in society. They should be undeserving appendages, rather than people who deserve credit for their efforts. I quote from one of my Twitter posts I made a while back:

“Katrina didn’t get daunted by obstacles.This babe dared to step into an industry speaking a completely foreign tongue, as Chinese would be to us, & made it on her own. She accepted the challenge & owned it. ….(She) has worked her skin off to achieve the superstardom she enjoys today. The results are that she was the only female star to be mentioned in the National Award winning film Filmistaan, and she enjoys monumental popularity among the younger demographic.“ 

There is a reason Marilyn Monroe, Suchitra Sen are remembered despite them not being the best ability wise. A star is not just born out of talent. A star is also born out of the ability to captivate the minds of the audience, by charm, by persona or elsewise. This is no small feat but  Kat can do that. I do not mean to compare her to  these iconic women, but am making  an analogy. She has screen presence. She is a star. Like it or not, she shines very, very bright. Is it her fault that she is successful? Beautiful? Hardworking? That directors come to her with scripts? What is she supposed to do, reject them? Well boohoo, I have news for you.

Besides, and this is what is most hilarious, Katrina is actually one of the most unproblematic stars of Bollywood, especially amusing when you look at the sheer number of the haters. She went to this talk show and there was this bitchy Never-Have-I-Ever segment of strip and tell where you’d have to roast your colleagues and Katrina chose to start taking off accessories and shoes instead of dragging her co-stars! Problematic! Toxic! Awful!

”……A very important thing that most overlook is that Katrina has on notable occasions spoken up for body positivity & freedom of identity. Her role in Bombay Talkies had her encourage a gender fluid person to accept himself & speak up on transsexuality…..(she ) has always remained supportive of her female colleagues, promoting their films on her own social media, praising them at every opportunity. Feminism. Done right.“

In summary, if you’re looking to criticise, you’ll find flaws in everybody, each and every Bollywood star. Mostly Katrina Kaif but also many others. She has her haters, they are vicious. But, on a better note, it doesn’t affect her. I raise you this superior bit of tea I found from this one cinephile’s Twitter thread:

I may have gotten too passionate and written too much. Forgive me. But also, you have my answer.