#I assume the rest of the country is making fun of us

[whisky-soul]

[chevelleneech]

As much as I talk about Chanlix and Jikook, and often use “possibly” or “if”, I’d like to go on record saying, Minsung is 100% real, lol.

Minho and Jisung have been together for years, they’ve confirmed it as much as I think we’ll ever see, and so have the rest of Stray Kids. I genuinely can’t think of any other way for two closeted people to prove they’re in a relationship, whilst working together in the same pop group based in a homophobic country.

They tell us about how often they go on dates, they talk about being fated/destined to be in each other’s life, they have spoken about being each other’s comfort and peace, they flirt nonstop, and the other members have openly discussed how coupled up they are, both seriously and jokingly. Even the two of them have blatantly used “boyfriend” for one another numerous times.

And trust me, I get it. Them not coming out with the words, “Neither of us are straight and are in an official committed relationship with each other.” leaves room for doubt, but at the same time… they have said they’re together. The other members have said they’ve got a thing going on. How much more out can they get without telling us their sexualities? Which isn’t a determining factor to any relationship in the first place.

I don’t know. I’m just saying, I don’t think any ship I’ve ever looked at has felt as undoubtedly real as Minsung. Real to the point where shipping them in the usual sense isn’t fun, because they’re not a ship. They seem like two people genuinely in a relationship, and they go about their days like two people in a relationship. I think the only reason at all that anyone (myself included in a way) holds space for doubt, is because they haven’t “come out” in the traditional way. No one can say for a fact either of them are queer, because we’re all used to same sex pop stars not confirming anything, particularly those who date people they work with, so it makes it easier to assume they’re just joking around. But again, Minho and Jisung aren’t saying they’re not a couple.

They’ve actually been saying the opposite for years, but they also laugh about it and don’t kiss on camera. Which makes complete sense, and the refusal to accept the context of their lives is why I think anyone who says they’re just friends is kind of more delusional than people who ship them. Because the label of their sexualities is truthfully the last line for them to cross, which they likely never will, and expecting them to is crazy.

Choosing to believe two people can’t be dating simply because they 1) are of the same sex and 2) are in the same music group, is indeed ridiculous. They’d just be queer coworkers who decided to date, and like… yeah. I honestly don’t see anything else that makes sense for their own explanations of their relationship, other than them being a couple.

[princessbrunette]

omg imagine “innocent” reader bsf jj dynamic, after she helped her with her sore boobs and all the pogues are in the twinkie and she just pouts at jj and says “jay might need your help, they’re sore again” gesturing to her nipples and before she can continue jj’s just like “okok stop yeah” glancing around flushed at the other pogues who are looking at him suggestively

it was especially warm and balmy that day, maybe that’s why your boobs felt extra heavy, sore to the touch inside the fabric of your bra. you quietly groan, uncomfortable from sitting in the same place for so long in the twinkie. the bouncing of the wheels driving over small potholes probably wasn’t helping your ache, pope carelessly speeding through country lanes behind the wheel. JJ sits opposite you, not paying much attention to the groan, assuming it’s from the heat when you tip your head back on the neck rest, huffing out a sigh. the blonde simply turns around to look out the windshield, drumming on the back of john b’s passenger seat.

the van bounces over another pothole and you wince, lifting your head with a pout.

“pope, can you please drive a little more carefully. i’m in pain.” you complain.

“you good?” john b swivels in his seat to look back at you for a moment, observing your uncomfortable expression.

“think my menzies are comin’ up. my boobs have been killing me.” you suddenly direct your attention to the blonde. “jayj, think m’gonna need your help again tonight.” you groan, slumping against the side of the van clutching your chest.

“shh, hey now.” jj awkwardly reprimands, coughing and busying himself with stabbing the carpet of the van with his finger, cringing as he feels john b turn back around.

“help— help with what? what did jj…” he frowns in confusion, and jj knows there’s nothing he can do to stop your mouth from innocently revealing your little secret.

“well, i was having boob pain the other night n’ i couldn’t sleep and—”

“you dont have to… say all that—” he tries to interject quietly, but it’s useless.

“— and jj was kind enough to use his magic hands on me. well, and his mouth. he was really good! i slept like a baby!” you smile gleefully at the memory like it was nothing. popes eyes widen, not even bothering to engage whilst john b is bursting into shocked laughter, turning around and smacking JJ on the back.

“damn, JJ— that true? you got magic hands?” he laughs, unable to pick his jaw off the ground. jj’s lips purse shamefully before he rolls his eyes and nods, resisting a chuckle of his own.

“yes—yeah, it’s true—hey! i’m being helpful, a’ight! s’what good friends do!” he defends, raising his voice over john b’s laughter, pope muttering a ‘jesus’ to himself at some point.

kie sits up from her lounged position across the seats with a disgusted expression, glancing between the two of you. “are you serious? thats gross. you two are like, breaking every pogue rule, you know that right?” she accuses tiredly. a mischievous smile breaks across jj’s face, and kie’s expression instantly flattens, knowing he’s cooking something devious to say in response.

“hey, suckin’ on some good ol’ titties ain’t breaking any rules.” he holds his hands up, making the van break out into more chaos as you giggle in confusion. you didn’t see what the big deal was, but you’ll let them have their fun.

[unseemingowl]

Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

[altocat]

Angeal and Genesis finally take Sephiroth to Banora au 🙏

Sephiroth has been emotionally preparing for this trip forever. He's genuinely excited. He never gets to travel for fun and would love to see a taste of country life away from Midgar.

The first thing on the agenda is to make sure Sephiroth stays FAR away from Genesis' parents. They would eat up all his time giving him the grand tour, basically using his visit as free publicity for their business. Every time they come to snatch Sephiroth up, Genesis intentionally creates a huge distraction while Angeal whisks Sephiroth away.

Sephiroth loves the sunny weather, orchards, and country hospitality. He could get lost in these trees forever.

Angeal has him finally meet his mother Gillian. Sephiroth is shy, naturally. He ends up dumping a ton of praise for Angeal and commending her for raising one of the finest soldiers in all of Shinra. Gillian looks proud of her son, but there is a sadness in her eyes that Sephiroth can't quite read.

Angeal also introduces Sephiroth to his father...but it's a gravestone at the far end of town. Sephiroth gives Angeal some time to talk to his dad alone...since it's been a long time since he's visited.

Genesis shows the barn where he and Angeal used to hang out in as kids. And the makeshift fort in the woods, somehow miraculously still standing after years of being away. None of them can fit inside.

Gillian cooks for them, Sephiroth and Genesis for once not squabbling due to their mutual admiration and wanting to be on their best behavior.

Gen's parents finally catch up with them and somehow brought the local press with them. Genesis gets genuinely angry, especially now that there's cameras flashing everywhere. He grabs Sephiroth's wrist and just books it for the woods. Angeal "accidentally" sets off a huge Materia smokescreen and stalls everyone up.

Sephiroth and Genesis wander around in the forests for a bit, Genesis venting about how they're ALWAYS like this--clout chasers. He hates being around them. They never understood him. They were always in it for themselves.

Sephiroth just listens, head cocked, watching his friend with concern. Things are starting to make a little too much sense.

It's quiet for a bit, Genesis and Sephiroth just walking together, silent save for the chirping birds. They find a secluded spot beneath the trees, Genesis murmuring that now's probably as good a time as any. He pulls out two Banora Whites, awkwardly explaining that they came from his family's private orchard. He wanted something less abrupt, more rehearsed. But they'll never find peace so long as his family is poking around town. Might as well enjoy a good thing while they have it.

Sephiroth takes the fruit, hesitantly taking a bite. Genesis watches him expectantly, no snide quips, no poetic recitals. Simply curious, somewhat nervous.

"It's...good."

"Yeah? Really?"

A nod. "Really good. Better than I've ever had it."

"Grew it myself. The tree, I mean. Planted it when I was six."

"You did well."

"Did I?"

Sephiroth leans back, nodding earnestly as he takes another bite. "Really well. I mean it, Genesis."

"Heh...Gift of the Goddess."

They rest beneath the tree for a bit, eating the apples, enjoying the nice afternoon breeze. Genesis' eyes are wet, though Sephiroth never notices. They'll have to head back into town eventually to collect Angeal. Assuming the mob hasn't eaten him alive. But for now...this is nice.

And possibly the best day of Genesis' life.

[catdoodling]

Silver childhood head-cannons

He learnt a lot of things in a pretty random order, generally just what he was interested in on that day so for example, he leant how to dance from Malleus on the same day that he leant how to make basic medicine from Lilia

He also has no knowledge on what things have economic value, he was just as likely to use Melissas cape (which is probably made out of really fancy stuff) as a blanket as he was to use a pile of leaves and feathers. I would not be surprised if Malleus has used jewels as board game pieces before, so Silver just assumed that’s what are used for for years. This is made far worse because both Malleus and Lilia hold random things that silver has given them in far far higher value. then so for a point in time, he assumed flowers were more valuable than gold

He’s also just assume people can ask animals help like does and doesn’t get why people are so afraid of wild animals

Lilia is pretty rich from being a former general, so they’ve gone out to like different countries before, but that was always to try and find a cure for Silvers sleep curse, Sylvia didn’t know that for awhile, so from his perspective, they were just going out for adventure and Lilia made sure that he had a lot of fun. Malleus sulked a lot when they went out because he couldn’t join them.

When Lilia or Malleus are stressed, will just pick silver up and cuddle him. Silver is extremely used to this and doesn’t question it despite the rest of Deasomna excluding Sebek looking very confused

This might be Canon, but Lilia and malleus hoard. They never got rid of any of silvers stuff when he grew out of it, they just stole it and put it in there hoard

Sebek escaped most of this by having a semi normal family that he went back to, but he’s still was a weird kid by proximity

Also, they had to cuddle piles where Malleus was in his true dragon form and nothing you say will convince me otherwise, it would be so cute

[musclemanveryregular]

[ID: on the left is Skips the Yeti man, on the right is rigby the talking raccoon. /end ID]

Original poll with info for skips

Original poll with info for rigby

Master post link

A few things I forgot to mention plus scenarios below:

Skips:

-very wise, very powerful

-very level headed, takes a great deal to provoke him as a friend

--notable exception to this is cheating at arm wrestling. He straight up killed Rigby once over this

--had to beat Death in an arm wrestling contest to get him back

-often shipped with benson, which is really cute and I get it, but I also think he and Gary would make great exes back to lovers type deal

Here's what I think would have happened last week if you want to read that:

You and Skips got high together last week; it took a bit of convincing him to at least stop working for a little bit and take a break from working all the time. It took no convincing him to try a bit of weed because he read in Wizards Monthly, a magazine he recently subscribed to since the likelihood of being attacked by something magical in the park is actually pretty likely, that it could help him get in better touch with nature.

And it really did.

Because you both went exploring an ancient lost civilization while stoned out of your minds.

Rigby:

-used to shirk work, doesn't eo much anymore. To the point he once covered for mordecai for like a long ass time.

-very very good at Bank Shot, a trickshot basketball arcade game that scores your point based on throw performance.

--threw the ball so well it left to find a romantic partner, succeeded, and came back a changed basketball.

-very prone to munchies

-very disorganized, sleeps on a pile of clothes on top a trampoline for 90% of the show until the last season where suddenly the forgot how important that trampoline is to him. Seriously why? I guess you could call it part of his character growth in some way but like this is such like an autism special spot thing that it feels weird. Yes I hc him as autistic.

-anyways, also in an alternate timeline he helped fight in the resistance against an evil mordecai who was working with their old gym teacher to destroy the fabric of time itself. And eventually dies in front of current rigby. Rigby is so used to weird shit happening this has no serious long term affect on him.

Here's what I think would have happened last week if you want to read that:

Mordecai went out of town for the weekend with his new girlfriend, the mysterious bat lady, Stef, he just started seeing last week. Eileen is on a brief trip across country for her new job. Rigby is bored as shit at The House, and literally calls you up and invites you over for a smoke sesh.

You arrive, bringing your own snacks, and a bit of hash knowing the last time you hung out he had neither at the time and thats why he invited you but it was a fun enough time that going back wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Following Rigby up the stairs, he gets to his room first (go figure, he was running on all fours) and are suddenly greeted by an intense cloud of thc. Assuming you aren't allergic to weed, and you don't die immediately, you go inside the cloud into what you think is Rigby's room where you find unopened tiny bags of chips all over the room and so much hash.

One of the perks of having a super successful wife, probably.

Apparently Rigbys been smoking a lot more weed lately. You both smoke and play video games together the rest of the night.

[tangyangie]

HI!!!! Ur writings r literally the cutest it makes me cry omg, could u write karma with a very versatile social chameleon fem! s/o who is highly feminine and intellectually and emotionally mature yet exudes an energy and a sense of humor deemed as more “guy like” (get it because women can’t be funny or autistic so I just can’t possibly be a woman) and though all of e class really understood each other, there was still ofc a mild difference in the social habits of not only groups but between genders bc gender norms and generalization yeah? But instead of having a specific group that they exclusively talk to because of similar social behaviors, she prefers to weave into the situations and actually project the manner of others- so like she’s very feminine presenting and witty yet also is like a dumb high school boy. Like she could be decked out in a whole gyaru look and- think of a disney channel movie bully moment- be approached by someone and clap back with the most precise and hilariously dumbfounding response, like it’s perfectly catered to the energy the person gives off in order to deliver a blow that actually gets across and hurts ! Basically a very unexpected obscure mixture of a person that isn’t afraid of getting a joke across, even if that means wearing a mustache made from mascara and a fishing shirt to truly stand for what our country stands for🇺🇸🦅make the green m&m sexy again america

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 🌀

desc. karma x fem!unexpected!reader!!

notes. i'm not gonna lie that was really hard to summarize but tysm for the compliment and req!!! this was so fun to write and i could tell as soon as i saw this request

also i assume this is headcanons so please tell me if that's not what you had in mind!!!

you are karma's favorite person ever.

you're smart and you're funny. it's like he's found his twin flame. except she's 100x more intense.

it's almost as if you adapt to the person you're talking to as well. he just thinks you're so interesting.

one second, you're making dirty jokes with rio—and the next, you're talking with nagisa calmly about ways to kill korosensei.

you're decked out in a long, flowy dress and screeching like an eagle, flapping your arms.

and don't get him started on how much he loves your reaction to class A.

one of them begins berating a classmates for being in class E? you're over there coming up with the most creative insults ever. combinations you didn't think were possible.

karma lives to see the look on their faces after you've delivered their personally catered insult. they're actually dumbfounded.

you're constantly the center of attention together. you're going on about why birds are actually government drones and karma's starting to throw birds into the room to try and kill korosensei.

you adapt to your surroundings. god knows how many different jokes you have with different people because of this.

you play fighting games on the whiteboard with the rest of your classmates. your character is an umbrella and you have a rain buff??

it's impossible to count how many times you've used an american country accent and gone on about how much you love women and fishing.

— "LONG LIVE BASS PRO SHOPS"

it's been at least a few months since you've been dating karma. he's still figuring you out.

you both are rubbing off on each other. now karma's calling people ingrown toenails, and you tease him because he stole that from you.

the big 5 of class A still never leave you guys alone.

teppei's pushing his tests in your guys' faces with a smug look. you push your glasses (imaginary or not) up your face and sniff, mocking him.

"actually," you sniffle. "according to my calculations, you've got as less rizz than an easy-bake oven. go get some girls and then we'll see how envious we are." you say, with a wink.

the rest of the class is laughing their asses off while teppei's got the most flabbergasted look on his face that's possible. wide eyes and eyebrows to the sky, he drops the paper and runs way crying.

you make a remark about how you love making america great again by making boys cry.

the rest of the class doesn't know how to label you. you fit in with everyone.

yet, you've also got a very distinct personality. you also make references to the weirdest things, like a specific game that got really popular in 2020, especially among middle school boys...

but, they love you nonetheless. even though sometimes, you make jokes that would send you to class ZZZ.

notes: assuming i understood what you meant correctly, i have like 10 friends like this. perhaps some of these are based of of them... (you know who you are 🩷)

[evilkitten3]

But listen, if Izuna had said yes to Hashirama's help after he was injured and he still died, would Madara rampage like in canon? Would he still chase the infinite tsukyomi?

the thing is, hashirama never offered to help izuna. i'm actually not sure he could have - the hiraishingiri pretty much cut through him like butter. moreover, while madara himself lauds hashirama's medical prowess, we actually know very little about his capabilities with medical ninjutsu. he could heal wounds without any hand seals, that's mostly all we know.

here are hashirama's words immediately after izuna is injured:

「マ��ラ・・・お前はオレには勝てない・・・もう・・・終わりにしよう・・・忍最強のうちはと千手が組めば・・・国も我々と見合う他の忍一族を見つけられなくなる・・・いずれ争いも沈静化していく」

"madara... you can't beat me... let's end it already. if the strongest shinobi, the uchiha and the senju, form an alliance... the country won't be able to find another shinobi clan able to counterbalance us... the conflict will eventually calm down"

he doesn't acknowledge izuna at all. whether he intended an offer of medical aid to be implied or not, it's never addressed. a bunch of people have claimed that this makes hashirama a jerk, and while i definitely get that viewpoint, i do think offering to help izuna without being absolutely certain he was capable of doing so would've been a terrible move, politically speaking. madara might have known that hashirama isn't the sort of man who would do something like this, but the rest of the uchiha clan would have no reason not to assume that hashirama didn't just take advantage of madara's kindness/trust/desperation/whatever to ensure that izuna died while potentially leaving room for madara to feel indebted to him for trying in spite of all the reasons he had not to bother.

hell, the clan might even come to the conclusion that madara intended for izuna to die so he could get his eyes, given what ended up happening in canon, so his fallout with them might actually happen even faster (and without the uchiha ever joining konoha at all, although without madara around to counter hashirama, i have no idea if/how the uchiha would manage against the senju from there)

all that aside, if hashirama had indeed offered help and izuna had agreed to take the risk and died anyway and the uchiha clan trusted that that was what had actually happened, i think pretty much everything else would've proceeded according to canon.

there's definitely plenty of fun possibilities to play around with concerning madara's path in life, but tbh i personally believe that without a massive deviation from canon, he would've eventually become who he became. hashirama definitely fucked up here and there, but i honestly don't think there was anything he could've personally done alone that would've changed madara's fate short of killing him back when they were kids, which he was never going to do. he was always doomed.

[rocksibblingsau]

Hi!! When I saw the posts of @isabel3710 and @crunchycoookies About Country Branch and his accent, the question arose: Do your rock trolls have any accents in particular? Do they have any particular linguistic characteristics?

Sorry if my question is too long or too specific. Have a nice rest and take care of yourself.

Rock Trolls canonically have varied accents, which I'm keeping in the fic! There's a mix of American and British accents, and Petra has an Australian accent. I think it's a really neat extension of just how varied rock music is compared to the other genres.

They talk very informally most of the time, with some exceptions like Demo (whose manner of speaking is similar to Classical Trolls at times). Formal talk like addressing people as sir/ma'am or speaking 'properly' (less slang, fully enunciating words) is more likely to be used sarcastically. For example if you didn't know Demo and you heard him refer to you as m'lady, as a rock troll you'd probably assume he was making fun of you. I imagine Val has to intervene a lot for him and tell people he just talks like that.

Culturally I imagine Rock Trolls would have issues trying to communicate with Classical and Country (who I imagine while they can also be informal, also have manners towards strangers) and they'd both need to not jump to assumptions during conversations.

Don't be sorry, I love questions like these!

[qberryshortcake]

Are you wondering how to get into Gundam and need an autistic transbian with insomnia to help guide you? Well you're in fucking luck!

Happy for u tho/I'm sorry

Start with either Witch From Mercury, Iron Blooded Orphans, or Mobile Suit Gundam. All three you can go in blind and have a grand old time. WFM is the lesbian one though, and my proper intro to the franchise.

What even is a Gundam?

Let's get a little vocabulary out of the way. A Mobile Suit is a bipedal giant mech, generally with one pilot, that uses a combination of mounted weapons and weapons held in the mobile suit's hands. This can be railguns, tank cannons, missile launchers, or a good old fashioned energy sword.

Are all mobile suits Gundams?

No, actually! It's a poodles/dogs situation. All Gundams are mobile suits, but not all mobile suits are Gundams.

What makes Gundams special?

It varies from series to series. In some it's that they use a special power source. In others it's a direct interface with its users. They often require less training than other mobile suits, and have a much higher skill ceiling. No matter what, one rule is more or less universal: only a Gundam can beat another Gundam. This is one of the driving forces for every antagonist. It's also why these shows get so heady.

Who is Char Aznabke?

The antagonist of Mobile Suit Gundam (see below). He's iconic, charismatic, stylish, and machiavellian. There is a Char in every Gundam spinoff. It gives you a sense of dramatic irony knowing that, because if nobody is wearing the mask, you're trying to figure out who will. And if somebody is, you're wondering what they'll do.

Okay, where do I start?

Let's bring out the timeline chart (bear with me):

This may seem intimidating at first, but once you break it down, it starts to become a bit more scrutable.

The first thing to understand is that Gundam has a singular canon timeline, the Universal Century, and the rest are spinoffs. You could theoretically start down any of these timelines and have a grand old time. That being said, some starting points are better than others.

Universal Century - if you're down with old animation, you can't go wrong with watching the original Mobile Suit Gundam! You can start with Gundam Origin to learn about Char Aznable's backstory, or jump straight into the original anime

Future Century - This is one of the weirdest wildest Gundam series with Mobile Fighter G Gundam. I haven't seen this one and I personally wouldn't start here? But hey if you want a giant robot tournament where every country has a themed Gundam that has sliiiiight racist vibes? Uh well then this is truly one of the shows in all of Gundam.

After Colony - This is where a lot of us originally bounced off of the series. Gundam Wing was what was on Toonami back in the day. The dub isn't...great, and the story is *extremely* edgy. That being said is is rife with ship bait and Deathscythe is an incredible Gundam design. All the same themes, just very hamhanded.

Correct Century - this takes place in the far far future, and technically the previous three timelines converge on this one. It's so far in the future that Gundams are practically a myth. This is Turn A Gundam, or as it's usually stylized, Ɐ Gundam. I haven't gotten to this one yet, but I love the moustachio'd design of the titular Ɐ Gundam. I wouldn't necessarily start here, just because this one kind of assumes the viewer has seen at least a Gundam before. From what I've heard at least.

Cosmic Era - While I own several gunpla from this series, I have only seen an episode! It's... I've never heard a single good word about this one. As far as I know it is more geared toward younger viewers, which also means it is the most shamelessly about advertising gunpla...well other than a couple other series we'll get to.

Anno Domini - okay here is where it gets a little odd because there's multiple timelines that use this abbreviation. The first is Gundam 00, or Double O (not zero). This one is really fun. It takes the edge from Wing and makes it kind of humorous. A slow burn, where you realize that maybe a single force having a monopoly on violence, made up entirely of child soldiers is,,,not the best idea? Great place to start.

Anno Domini - Gundam Build Fighters and Mobile Suit Gunpla Raiders G are, charitably, celebrations of the gunpla hobby. I wouldn't start here.

Post Disaster - God I almost wish this had been my first series. Iron Blooded Orphans is about a bunch of dudes being guys. They escape from slavery and go into business for themselves, and get embroiled in a political conflict while escorting a princess back to Earth from Mars. Fantastic show, but it clocks in at 50 episodes, so keep that in mind if you start this one.

Ad Stella - this is where I started. Witch from Mercury is absolutely incredible. Just 26 episodes. It follows Suletta Mercury and Miorine Rembran, after the former wins a duel, and due to sci fi anime logic, becomes betrothed to the latter.

Great, anything else I should know?

I said this in another post but if you're still on the fence because giant robot shows you've seen in the past haven't been great, I get it. I was the same way. The point of the robots being humanoid is because it takes out the abstraction of using vehicles of war, without cutting down on the scale of the wars being fought. When a character, for example, goes to destroy a military base single-handedly, you get that disconnect.

Sure it's a pilot doing war things, but it's *very* different when your opponents are as outclassed as most things and a Gundam.

It's always been about the horrors of war, the victims of those wars, and the wounds and scars that are left on the soldiers of those wars. The cool robot is so that a character can lose an arm but still have to keep fighting. In some series that character may have felt the pain of losing an arm while jacked into their mobile suit. It brings a viscerality that fighting with planes, tanks, and starships simply wouldn't be able to replicate.

Oh. And uh. Gunpla. Gunpla are the Namco Bandai line of models. They all require minimal tools and no glue. They're generally posable and some are extremely posable. They come in 1:144, 1:100, and 1:60 scale (primarily). They're also not cheap. The smaller models cost around 30-50, but they get expensive quickly. So uh. Don't? Get into them?

[mgnifiqueyoo]

— "love at first spark."

requested by: anon pairing: zb1 matthew x fem!reader song recommendation: dear no one (tori kelly) lowercase is intended… — a/n: y'aaaaall, i really wanted to start writing a zb1 oneshot but i actually didn't know where to start but thanks to the person who requested this, here's my first ever seok matthew oneshot! i hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! ^^ (btw, i am also thinking of making a masterlist for all my uploaded projects very soon!)

[ total words: 1.9k ]

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───── ❝ ❞ ─────

“ricky, i’m fine. you don’t have to call me every hour. tell mom and dad that i’m doing just great, okay?”

it was the second week since you moved into your new dorm. flying across the country is not really what you expected at all this year. you already had your plans; just trying out an online entrance exam to a university abroad and then, not expecting anything from it. you could say that it was all “just for fun” until you received an e-mail.

and that letter basically told you that you had to move out. 

“look, i don’t trust you on your own and i’m just looking out for you,” your brother said back in defense, probably already making up an excuse for this call to even take place. “... i’m gonna miss you a lot, y/n.”

“me too.” you paused for a bit as you remembered how fun it was to be back home. with each day that passes, things are changing and you just couldn’t believe that this was the actual start of something new. out of the country and pursuing something so difficult– law. “... m’kay, i’ll text you later after i review. love you, ricky.”

“... love you, too.”

ending the call yourself, you chuckled at the way he sounded so hesitant to say those words back. ricky would refuse to admit it but there was always that soft side in him that comes out every time something completely life-changing takes place; the type of thing that doesn't really have a clear answer in the end.

to him, this was one of those things.

by the time you got back to your plans, you were already so eager to start cleaning out your desk to spend the rest of your hours with your nose stuck in a book– and, oh, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"huh?" you stood up straight after bending down the table, your palms still looking for that bright, vibrant blueish aqua highlighter you'd always use for notes. "... just a second!"

nonetheless, you made your way to the door even though you had no idea who else could've been behind it. and once you opened it, you were met with a guy who held a mysterious box; he had dirty blond hair and a nice set of teeth that seemed to have been covered once he saw you.

but why?

"sorry, who are you?" "here's your order… ma'am?"

he didn't even sound sure when he said that last word as you took the box in your own hands, your brows furrowed. god, you were just so confused. you didn't even buy anything!

"... there's no way you're jonathan whales, right?"

that's when things got clearer for you as the tensed muscles on your face slowly loosened up… but at what cost? this guy in front of you obviously just got ditched by some horrible customer. 

"well," your smile widens but it only made him feel a lot more unsettled, especially with those dead eyes of yours staring back at him, "i'm not a johnathan apparently."

the boy in front of you bit his bottom lip, frowning as he squinted his eyes in anxiousness and a whole lot of uncertainty. he scratches the back of his neck, confused yet curious eyes looking around your dorm room from the outside as he later lets out a defeated sigh.

"... have i been scammed?"

your shoulders slowly rose up as a grimace was plastered on your face, your head nodding hesitantly in response. the blond had every right to roll his eyes, letting out a deep breath as you quickly assumed that he didn't like the way you reacted.

but in your defense, you were just starting your weekend with a supposed two-hour long review session. you didn't expect an unpaid package and a scammed seller to come by your doorstep!

"hold on… let me check my account." he raised his pointer finger up for a bit, pulling out the phone from his hoodie's pocket. not once did he smile at the view of whatever it was on his screen. "... oh, no."

"not a good news, isn't it?" "yeah… i just got robbed."

you widen your eyes, baffled at this ridiculous situation happening right in front of you. ‘i can’t just leave him here, can’t i?’ you thought to yourself, also letting out the same deep breath he did. — well, all those things you wanted to do? they’re gonna be done tomorrow because you feel the need to help this guy.

looking down at the package you held, you noticed how neatly it was prepared and you knew that this guy wanted to impress his customer. “... what’s your name?”

“matthew... matthew seok.” he then stared at the bulletin board behind your desk, raising both of his eyebrows in what seemed like fascination. “and i think we go to the same university, miss l/n? i’m really sorry- i need to take this back.”

as he reached for the package, you frowned, pulling it away from him. for some unknown reason, you didn’t want to return to him. 

“no,” you argued shortly, causing him to tilt his head, making him even more confused than before, “i’ll pay for it.”

the blond lets out a chuckle that is obviously having a lot of feelings mixed. you couldn’t help but mentally curse yourself for refusing to return the parcel to him. “you don’t have to do that-”

“this is mine now. i’ll pay for it.” your arm covered the lid of the box in baby blue shades, your brows furrowing further as matthew seemed to not get the memo yet. was it because it’s his first time meeting someone as persistent as this? or was it because he just didn’t know what to do? anyway, you cared less enough to answer those questions.

and instead, paid attention to this weird, sudden desire of this random parcel that you didn’t even purchase. “listen, i know you want to help me but i don’t want you spending your money on this.” matthew’s growing concern didn’t fade away at all as his hands reached for the box once more, resulting in you flinching as you held it in your arms tightly. — this is the weirdest you’ve ever been.

‘why am i so obsessed with this?’ you asked yourself silently in a form of an uncertain gulp and a puzzled, blank stare at the seller, who still stood by your doorstep. “what’s inside of it?”

“... well, you don’t need to know-” “is it drugs?” “what? no!”

but no matter how many times the guy tried to stop you, your hands started tearing the tapes around the box’s lid and body. — this is the most chaotic you’ve ever been. “ma’am, calm down!” he grabbed your wrists to catch your attention and it did… in the most unusual way.

in fact, it was so unusual that your gripping hands let go of the box, letting the package fall on the floor, a loud thud and a few cracks were heard. looking down, you soon realized that it was a record player. 

'oh, what a shame,' you thought, deep into your regrets. it was like there was this rope pulling you towards it even though you didn't know what this "johnathan whales" guy bought.

and apparently, it was really pretty, sky blue record player.

“i… i told you i’d pay for it,” you blurted out, unsure of the consequences as matthew kept his head down, taking a few deep breaths. audible and full of shame. you were sure that you just made the situation worse. “i’m sorry.”

as his hands let go of your wrists, you swore that something stinging was left on your skin. no, it wasn’t an insect or the itchy feeling of your sweatshirt. it wasn’t even the wind that entered your room from the windows… it was something else.

and there were sparks of it.

in pink and are all over your arms, glowing before they faded away like nothing; like it was some smoke.

“did you just… see that?” matthew did not wait for a second to let it pass, staring right into your soul with no plans of looking somewhere else. “you saw that, right? am i just hallucinating or-”

“no, i saw it too.” you couldn’t look away from him, founding comfort in the fact that he also saw (and felt) the same thing. not to mention, it didn’t look like it was just a faint glimpse– it was like fireworks in the afternoon skies, especially the ones before the clock strikes five o’clock. 

the boy then took a step back, realizing that he still held your arms as the time-stopping ambiance slowly left the room; but it lingered as if hours had gone by. “... what do you think was it?” he rocked himself back and forth in an almost unnoticeable way, little by little. you could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes but you were left with no answer.

i mean, how does someone know the reason behind that? seeing magenta sparks? it’s already so delusional just by listening to those words. “i’m not sure about that… do you want to talk about it?” you had no idea that you opened a new path for him as he kept his head tilted, jaw slightly left hanging as he smiled with his pretty teeth. 

“are you kidding? of course! i mean, you’d never see anything like that everyday!” he joked, making you let out a chuckle that was still very much lost in the moment. 

finding yourself staring at him, you woke yourself up in the middle of it, standing by the side of the doorframe to let him walk in as he giggled, oddly settled after all that disaster earlier as you began to slowly see the bright side in it, too.

“can you give me a moment to fix this mess?" you asked, which made him nod almost immediately, later walking his way in. you expected him to sit on the solo couch to make himself at least feel at home but he only stood, looking around with his bright eyes. 

and again, it made you smile for no reason. “so, you study law, huh? that’s pretty hard, isn’t it?” his eyes were glued to the textbooks that were piled on your desk as you chuckled, shrugging right after. 

“well, it’s something that i really wanted to do,” you said back, slightly biting the tip of your tongue as you remembered the mess you’ve made off of his product. “matthew, i’m so sorry for what happened. i’ll pay for it, i promise-”

“hey, i just told you that you don’t have to! we’ll just… i don’t know? tell this to the police? maybe they could do something.” he interrupted you, still pushing his priorities over your suggestion. and even though you didn’t like that, he sure did have a point. none of this was your fault. if only the scammer was a genuine customer, this wouldn’t have taken place.

but something tells you that this was meant to happen. you’re just not sure why.

once you returned to the ruined box with the badly damaged record player, his glare followed every move you made. maybe even syncing with the rhythm of your breathing. “... would you let me help you with that?” he offered as you turned to look back at him, exerting extra effort, considering that you’re crouched to the ground with broken pieces in both of your hands. 

“that’d be great.” you laughed as he did so too before continuing to sit down next to you, willing to share the work with you at least. 

when silence was starting to take over, the blond paused for a while as he couldn’t help but stare at you and it intrigued him. was it the way you were so determined in helping him? was it because of how odd the situation was? he never had a clue. “i think it’s not just my money that was stolen.” 

you faced him in response, raising an eyebrow with eyes shining in interest. “what else was stolen, then?” you let out another laugh once more, noticing the way you felt drawn to him more and more. for a bit, he seemed like he didn’t want to say those next few words but of course, he wouldn’t let such a perfect chance pass.

“... i think you just stole my heart.”

[heyyyyyybuttercup]

Hear me out

Peruvian Kenny makes a lot of sense if you think about it!!!

Peru is a third world country, which translates to poverty everywhere!

Kenny's family is poor! (Their houses look the same honestly)

Peruvians eat doves!

Kenny's family surely have eaten doves for thanksgiving! (they're too poor to buy chicken so 😔)

Peru loves pollution!

Kenny's house is...

Peru is kinda the meme for the rest of spanish speaking countries!

And Kenny's poverty is a meme for all the kids (and even adults) in South Park!

See? Kenny being peruvian makes so much sense!!!

.

.

.

Let me be really honest here, as a peruvian it kinda irks me whenever I see the Craig peruvian hc and people just make his skin darker and call it a day. Or to idolize third world countries and just think they're what Google or Pinterest first images (that will always show the best each country has) shows, when it's not the case. I can only speak about Peru but this country has a lot of bad things, from the insecurity (you can't use your phone on the streets) to the pollution and poverty (the pics I used are indeed from Peru).

Also imma be a bit biased but it's kinda racist to assume that all latinos are dark skinned when I've seen the whitest people here or the contrary! Peru has a lot of history and people from countries of other continents came here so we have a huge variety when it comes to our skin color, body proportions or well features sorry I can't find the right words.

As for my actual essay as to why I think Kenny being peruvian fits for Parque del Sur (South Park in spanish) well what I said before is true (except the dove bit that's a meme other countries make of Peru to mock them lol we don't eat doves, I'd say only the poorest families do because they're kinda an animal that's everywhere but in general no, oh also doves outside of Lima exist and they eat actual food so is actually hygienic to eat those i guess). Peru is a country that's used as a meme from other hispanic countries AND Peruvians themselves, which reminds me of everyone making fun of Kenny and Kenny joking with himself about let's say his immortality (ex. In Phone Destroyer he said "Oh no you killed me you bastard! Jk" so yeah he's casual about this so it wouldnt be a surprise if he also jokes about his poverty)

The poverty bit is true but for all countries, in any case I think here it's something that's very recurrent and happens in all regions/states, it's not exclusive to one zone. Plus this actually isn't what buys me into this hc because if it is then I'd fall into the bit of "Kenny's all character is being poor lol". What buys me is the environment of people making fun of him bc of this and I already mentioned how Peru is such a country with tons of memes from other countries lmao and him even joking about it

Another aspect I'd like to highlight that could fit Kenny being peruvian is how this country specifically is known for its informality and creativity when it comes to making a way to get money by hard work. Our economy is carried by "ambulantes" or informal workers tbh, not the formal enterprises. And I think Kenny is like that, he would find ways to gain cash by working no matter what and be creative with his ways too! I think that's something that yells PERUVIAN to me haha

Lastly genetics are insane here bc of what I said before, my great grandma had very dark skin, my grandma was super white, my mom has brown skin and I'm dark tan i think. It could lowkey explain why Kenny is somehow blond when none of his parents are blond (the same genetics apply for hair) so yeah it's not as crazy as you might think lol

In any case this is a silly hc thank you for hearing me ramble ^^

Note: Before I said it irked me the Craig peruvian hc but like only if people do it for the aesthetic. The hc is perfectly fine and I love it hehe (the more peruvian the better 🔥)

[dreamy625]

One-shot - Barbie

Content: Casual drinking and smoking

Words: 2670

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

Steve is considering a third drink and determinedly ignoring the clock over the bar as it ticks on from fashionably late to may-as-well-not-bother when he hears in a throaty drawl from behind him:

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns…”

His face breaks into a broad grin, “Barbie!”

“Don’t…” she kisses him on one cheek, “...call me Barbie...” and then the other, “Stevie.”

She hops up on the neighbouring bar stool and reaches for the pack of cigarettes in front of him.

“I knew it was you the second I saw your hair; still bulk-buying the peroxide I see!”

“Still putting your lipstick on with a trowel I see!” he counters, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand before waving to the bartender. “Gin and tonic, no ice, lime not lemon. And another one of these please.”

“So what brings you to my part of town? Do they not have pubs in Chelsea?”

“I’m supposed to be at a party. Industry bigwigs. Journalists. Mensch is making me go.”

“To prove you haven’t been kicked out of the band?”

“You’ve heard the rumours then?”

“Oh yes. But then I also heard you married a stripper and moved to Vegas, so…” she shrugs.

“That sounds more fun. Nah, it just goes on like it always does - do this, do that, don’t do that. The same old merry-go-round. Ages to go on the new record before we can get back out on the road again.” Their drinks arrive and he pushes a five-pound note across the bar. “And you’ve been conspicuous by your absence this past year, what have you been up to?”

“Oh you know, bit of writing, bit of design work. Plying my trade wherever they’ll have me.”

“How many countries this time?”

“Only three so far this year - Greece, Japan, and LA of course.”

“Ahh, jealous, I loved Japan. I’ve just gone back and forth to Dublin about four million times. Joe built his own studio,” he explains.

“Convenient.”

“For Joe it is. Phil’s in the US and Rick’s back in Holland, so the rest of us are clocking up a lot of airmiles.”

“You’ve not considered moving?”

“Nah, I’m settled where I am. Travelling’s good, but I want somewhere to come home to, somewhere that speaks proper English.” 

There’s something he’s carefully not saying and Barbara, of course, hears it loud and clear. “So where’s that American girlfriend of yours?”

“Which one?” asks Steve, lighting another cigarette and offering the packet to his companion. “Don’t matter anyway, answer’s the same - gone, got sick of me and buggered off to pastures new.”

“Oh sweetheart,” She pats his hand before reaching for the matches. “Always unlucky in love.” 

“Ain’t that the truth. Inexplicable really,” he looks down at the countertop before flicking his eyes up to hers, “when I have such good taste in women.”

Barbara laughs, not quite the reaction he’d been hoping for. “Very good Clarkie, have you been practising that?”

“Whaddya mean, works every time.” He turns his head to hide the blush threatening to colour his cheeks and motions to the barman for more drinks. Serves him right for assuming. Changing tack, he asks, “Are you here on your own?”

“Are you about to ask what a nice girl like me is doing in a place like this?”

“I know what you’re doing in here - chatting up strange men so you can pinch their cigarettes! I merely wished to enquire about your social arrangements.”

“Ah, very proper. I came in with some people from the magazine I’ve been writing for, but they’re going for a curry, so I guess I’m footloose and fancy free.”

“Good to know, thank you kindly.” He stubs out the cigarette, pondering his next move…

“Do you want to drink that?” She nods at the double brandy the bartender has just placed in front of him. “Or do you want to come home with me?”

“Can’t I do both?”

“From past experience, no,” smirks Barbara with a flick of her eyes down to his lap.

Steve blinks once before making the fastest decision of his life, pushing the glass back across the bar and dropping down from the bar stool almost in one movement.

A short walk brings them to a three-storey townhouse, not unlike his own, but this one, and the others in the terrace, has been split into flats and has the slightly dilapidated, uncared-for look common to buildings housing an ever-changing population of tenants. Barbara’s flat is on the third floor; high ceilings and fancy wallpaper, but just two rooms. Almost every time he saw her, she was living in a different short-term rental, squat, or half-empty house-sitting gig. The perpetual rolling stone, wherever she lay her hat was her home; although in Barbara’s case the ‘hat’ was three tea chests full of books and records, scarves and tapestries from far-flung places to cover every surface, and a stuffed parrot on a perch. Which meant that every place looked and smelt the same - like a poorly-kept antique store - and Steve would always feel himself being watched by a beady avian eye as he stumbled around in the middle of the night looking for yet another unfamiliar bathroom.

“So let me give you the tour.” Barbara takes three steps into the middle of the living room and does a slow twirl with her arms out. “This concludes our tour.”

“Nice. Frank’s looking well.” He waves to the parrot, so-named for its uncanny resemblance to Frank Zappa, receiving the usual glass-eyed stare in return. 

“So, d’you want a drink?” 

Steve shakes his head. 

“Or coffee?”

Another shake.

“Or…”

Steve smiles a lazy smile. “C’mere.”

Barbara tilts her chin up in mock defiance, but walks towards his open arms, peeling her coat off as she goes.

“I’ve missed you, Barbie.”

“Don’t call me…” The rest of the sentence dissolves into a muffled ‘mmph’ as Steve presses his lips to hers.

Her eager response is both exciting and warmly familiar - hers is a body he knows so well and returns to with delight - and as he works on ridding them both of extraneous clothing on the way to the bedroom, his only concern is picking the correct closed door and not ending up in a broom cupboard!

Later, satisfied and spent, with his girl curled up next to him and tracing drowsy circles on his chest, he lets his mind wander through memories of their long and convoluted relationship. 

Barbara had always roused a mixture of emotions. She was beautiful, charming, clever, and had a worldly sophistication that had been incredibly exotic to a boy who’d barely left Yorkshire. He’d been mesmerised by her from the first meeting, and the years of chance encounters and brief liaisons had done little to diminish her allure. On one hand, she was easy to be with, probably one of, no, the only, person he felt completely comfortable with. She didn’t expect anything of him, or want anything from him. Other than the obvious, which he gave gladly and enthusiastically. Even then, on the few occasions too much booze had made that impossible, she seemed equally happy to sort herself out (which in itself had been a notable lesson in his education in the ways of the modern woman). But on the other hand, why didn’t she want more? Why did she always slip from his grasp just when he’d started to believe that this was more than a dalliance? For Steve, who’d always fallen in love so easily and so completely, the only conclusion was that there was something wrong with him - why else would you so willingly let someone into your bed, but be so unwilling to let them into your heart? His only comfort was that she was, at least, consistent in her inconsistency; each time she would wriggle free but, eventually, there would be another postcard, another message on the answerphone. And each time there would be a tiny spark of hope; this time, maybe this time, she was tired of wandering… 

Steve woke to the sound of a lorry reversing, watery sunlight sneaking through the gap in the curtains, and absolutely no idea where he was. Then he registered the warmth of another body loosely spooned against his back and the familiar scent of Yves Saint Laurent Opium. Oh yeah. With a smile on his face he drifts back to sleep.

The second time he wakes is less peaceful - it sounds like someone in the street repeatedly throwing a tin bath down a flight of stairs.

Beside him, Barbara yawns and mutters, “Bin day.” And then, “What time is it?”

He gropes for his watch discarded on the bedside table and squints at the dial. “Just gone nine.”

She groans and rolls out of bed, lifting a silk dressing gown from its hook on the back of the door before vanishing through it. Steve hears the protesting grumble of an old cistern and then running water. Sliding reluctantly from under the warm heavy quilt, he picks up his shirt from the floor and, pulling it on, follows the sound to a tiny bathroom housed in what he can only assume was originally, before the advent of indoor plumbing, a cupboard. Manoeuvring past Barbara - standing at the sink squeezing toothpaste from a crumpled tube - he pisses in the practically antique toilet and pulls the chain. Putting an arm around either side of her, he rinses his hands under the running tap, giving an involuntary shudder at the icy temperature. He shakes off the water, ‘accidentally’ flicking a few drops at Barbara’s face, which makes her wrinkle up her nose, then wraps his arms around her. She squeaks as his cold hands make contact, but he just hugs tighter. Looking in the mirror above the basin, and trying to ignore whatever sticking-up tangle his hair has knitted itself into overnight, he studies their combined reflection.

When they first got together they’d seemed an ill-suited pairing - he, younger in both looks and life experience than his nineteen years, and she, at thirty, a woman in her prime living a life packed with travel and culture. To the casual observer they may have appeared more like teacher and student than lovers. But they shared the same slightly off-the-wall sense of humour, and the same hunger to see the world and devour all it had to offer, and they had been instantly compatible in the bedroom, so it had worked well enough in the short snatches of time they had together. Now, time and, let’s be honest, a less-than-healthy lifestyle, had turned Steve’s once boyish features into something still handsome but more weathered than one might expect at twenty-nine, while Barbara, aside from a few deepened lines around her eyes, had barely aged in the intervening ten years. Their faces in the mirror matched, they looked like a real couple. 

“Do you have to go to work?” When she shakes her head, the brush still in her mouth, he ducks his head and kisses her neck just beneath her ear. “Come back to bed then.”

Afterwards, propped up against crumpled pillows and sharing the last cigarette in the packet, Steve feels a rare sense of calm and contentment, clear-headed and with a pleasant ache in a few muscles he hadn’t given that kind of workout in a while.

“We could go out for breakfast? Or do anything really. What would you like to do?”

“What I’d like to do is lie on a chaise longue sipping a mimosa, but what I actually have to do is pack and fly to Buenos Aires at six o’clock.”

Steve’s face falls. “Buenos Aires? What for?”

“An editing job. One of those Rough Guide-type things.”

“When will you be back?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s a one-way ticket.” She glances around the once-grand but now rather tatty bedroom. “I’m subletting my sublet, so there’s nothing I need to come back for.”

“Nothing?” asks Steve, trying not to pout.

“Oh darling,” she reaches out a hand and presses her finger against the protruding lip, “don’t look at me like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that. It’ll just be on the other end of a phone line for a while. Or you’re bound to be in Argentina sooner or later.”

Steve drops his head onto her shoulder. He knows how this will go, how it always goes, but he can’t stop himself. “But what if I want more than the occasional phone call?”

He feels more than hears her sigh. “You can’t always have what you want.”

“But why not?”

“Because you don’t just want more, you want everything - the wife waiting at home with your dinner on the table, the 2.4 apple-cheeked children, a lawn to mow on a Sunday morning. You want happy ever after. And that’s not what I want. I couldn’t do that if I tried.”

“But it must mean something, that we keep ending up together? Maybe you are meant to be my fairytale ending.”

“Sweetie, we shagged in a closet the night we met, that’s not a fairytale, that’s a Jackie Collins novel!”

“That was your idea! I was nineteen, I’d never met anyone like you, what was I going to do? Say no? I’d’ve bought you a candlelit dinner if you’d let me!”

“You would as well. You were such a sweet little thing.”

Steve attempts to refute this with a growling sneer, but Barbara just laughs and pats his leg. 

“Anyway, my big tough rockstar, unless you’re going to help me pack, I think it’s time for you to get going. There’s probably still a couple of teabags left. I will forgo my usual disdain of domesticity and make you a cup of tea while you get dressed?”

“Ohh-kaay,” he agrees reluctantly, shivering as she throws back the duvet.

In the kitchenette, she hands him a mug of dark brown liquid. “Sorry, the milk was making a determined effort to become cheese. But it is Yorkshire tea so…”

“Aye, that’ll do. Glad you got something from me at least.”

“Everything else cleared up with penicillin.”

“Cheeky!”

Barbara starts to load plates, washed and unwashed, into a cardboard box. “Pass me those spoons would you.” She drops them haphazardly on top of the crockery. “That girlfriend of yours, is it really over?”

“Yeah. She went off with someone else. Bit of a relief if I’m honest. Not my best decision ever.”

“Not her, the other one, the model.”

“Lorelei.” Steve leans back against the fridge and gazes at the flaking paint on the ceiling. “I royally fucked that one up. No way back there.” 

“That’s sad. She seemed nice.”

“She is nice. Too nice. She deserves better.”

Barbara moves to stand in front of him. There is love in her expression, but also something steely. 

She reaches up and strokes his cheek. “You’re too hard on yourself. Your perfect girl is out there somewhere, I know it.”

“In Argentina?” he asks plaintively.

She shakes her head, “Don’t.” She takes the mug from his hand, pours the dregs down the sink, and adds it to the box. 

Steve understands that he’s being dismissed and picks up his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Now, do you want custody of Frank? I’m not sure the new tenants will appreciate him.”

Steve eyes the slightly moth-eaten bird without enthusiasm. “No offence Frank, but you’re not much of a substitute.”

By the door, he bends to pull on his boots, then pats his pockets - keys, wallet, matches, must remember to get more ciggies on the way home. 

“Bye then. Have a good trip.”

“I’ll write. Promise.”

“You’d better.” He pulls her into a tight hug and drops a kiss on her forehead. “Look after yourself, okay.”

“Don’t worry, I always do.” 

She slides back the bolt and opens the door wide onto the shabby, faintly cabbagey-smelling, landing. Steve looks back as he reaches the stairs, but the door is already closed.

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

I’m sorry, I had to break his heart just a tiny bit :/

For context, irl Barbara Salisbury was Steve’s on and off lover from the very early days (she was a publicist for their first record company) until, well, it’s not clear if they ever stopped seeing each other. She was described as very independent and free-spirited and I often wonder how our romantic traditionalist coped with that.

[mimikoolover]

So I watched the Minimoni video just now, and 2 things:

1. I am sad that Namjoon prefers MUSE over Face. Mostly because imo Face is more interesting in concept, execution and lyrics. Oh well. Personal preference.

2. The concept for MUSE is, if I understood correctly, that all the emotions of happiness and excitement JM feels are somewhat temporary. Like a crush that just goes nowhere, it's built more on how your brain romanticises a person and less on who that person actually is. We get crushes on people based on a few minutes of interactions, but at some point that feeling fades. And to Jimin, that's kinda what his entire life feels like. As a GenZ (98), I relate soooooo hard to that. There's these moments of elation, when you do something fun, but soon enough real life kinda drags you down again. The future isn't that exciting to look at and hope kinda flies out the window. To be fair, for most of my generation that's based a lot in feelings of economic fear - sth Jimin doesn't experience- but I think he experiences a lot of other emotions that equate to sth similar. Especially since SK, like many other countries tbh, kind of seems to not take enough steps forward socially to combat all the issues created by the ruling classes of the last decades (aka Baepsae). Anyway.

These feelings of good moments and happiness being fleeting doesn't mean the moments or emotions in that moment were faked. But since it comes and goes, and the lows tend to get very low (also mental illness is a big part that doesn't get mentioned directly in MMM though Jimin has touched on it before), you tend to catastrophise a lot. It's like imposter syndrome for feelings of happiness.

As a separate closing thought: a lot has been made about Who as a song and how you'd fit it into Jikook. Or how it disproves Jimin being in a happy potentially queer relationship, but imo the MMM really highlights how the whole love and crush narrative of MUSE is just a big metaphor. It's not even about JK specifically, but I think it would do Jimin a huge disservice to assume that this album he has worked on for over a year just contains very surface level songs. Yeah, they are about love and yearning, but just like "Fake Love" or any song on the Love Yourself trilogy are about loving someone else on the surface, it essentially is an album about self-reflection. It can be both. Similarly, I find it insulting of people that they assume the "she" was forced on Jimin because he isn't in the credits of the song. As if they wouldn't have re-written the whole thing if it didn't fit Jimin's vision. Don't infantilize him just because it doesn't fit with our (yes, I'm a shipper) view of who Jimin loves.

"She" is a concept, a dream and not real. In that sense, "she" reminds me of Marlena - a female stand-in for inspiration and music as used by the Italian band Maneskin. But that's a reach. And I don't want to discount the literal layer of the song either. I personally don't believe Who is this big red stamp of "hey, I'm here, I'm not queer and looking for a woman to love, please call hit me up" others see it as. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't actually reflect how much Jimin is yearning for someone to love him how he wants to be loved.

I think Jikook is real because of how they behave around each other, and from how they talk about each other. Even the latest mention in MMM, how they (and Yoongi, poor 3rd wheel) spend hours talking about music and singing screams "and they spend the rest of their lives living together, historians call them very good friends" to me. But I won't be upset if it turns out, they did have relationships for years with other people. I won't make up theories and stories to invalidate whoever they end up spending the rest of their life with - we're not larries. Even if I find GCF Tokyo and Saipan, Rosebowl, the regular carrying and the 7000 other instances very hard to contextualise in a hetero way.

Sorry for the essay but I was kind of getting sick of all the sides currently out and about, both the antis and shippers need to chill out.

I really enjoyed reading your thoughts so thank you for sharing!

see I think for jimin muse as an album perhaps was more about his journey going through creating it, it was a labour of love and something he made from scratch with a team of people. it was probably a real challenge too and it seems like he went through a lot of growth creating this album. I think it's quite hard to judge the 'real' meaning of songs to jimin and everyone having their opinions is valid but as you said we would all do well chilling out😂for me this time it almost seems like the 'concepts' behind the songs are not as deep as maybe face was but the entire process of creating muse was more meaningful to jimin.

[maxwell-grant]

hi, can you elaborate on that monk-the thing-hank mccoy parallel you mentioned? im curious

(Follow-up to this post)

I certainly don't think anybody past Lee and Kirby took Monk as a factor when writing Ben and Hank, but the fact is that they were both conceived pulling from the same source character in directly opposite ways, and they've been shooting off further apart ever since, with Ben becoming more and more of a kind, inspiring, positive figure among superheroes, and Hank McCoy has been non-stop leapfrogging into greater heights of irredeemable jackassery and evil, both still carrying most of those traits still. You can kinda map them out like this:

He was Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett Mayfair, but he heard the full name so seldom he had about forgotten what it sounded like.

To give a brief a crash course on Monk, I assume most of you are at least passingly familiar that Doc Savage's crew had an ape guy in it. That's him. Artistic depictions vary on this a lot but in-text, Monk Mayfair is described as maybe the ugliest man in the world, a "dwarf King Kong" whose face makes babies cry, so apelike that he even runs faster when on all fours. Like the rest of the Five, he's driven by a desire for adventure and excitement and deep loyalty to Doc Savage. If one of the heroes kills a guy in a Doc Savage novel, it's probably going to be him, and he is kind of a colossal horndog, which didn't carry over to those two (all of the Fabulous Five - sans Long Tom who is an outspoken misogynist - make a heterosexual pony show out of ogling and competing for the women Doc ignores, Monk first and foremost among them). He lives for a good fight and frequently and constantly bickers with the lawyer Ham, they have that sort of fight-fight-snark-snark-brotherly-bond dynamic and they probably codified it in their own right.

And Monk is also one of the top chemists in the country, said to be "the Houdini of test tubes", his head fit to burst with chemical knowledge, and he's responsible for much of Doc's gadgetry. And even though his own teammates get in on insulting his intelligence and looks (and he barbs back as well, and even defies Doc more directly than the others rarely), he isn't remotely stupid. That is kinda the point, in fact, that he constantly invites you to look down on and underestimate the ugly gorilla man and forget the fact that he can memorize intricate formulas and rip your arms off in the same breath he uses to bicker and insult his companions, and particularly his smart-mouthed rival within the group, all in good fun. And within the Fabulous Five-setup that inspires the Fantastic Four and Lee and Kirby's mutual interest for Doc Savage stories showing through, crucial to Ben Grimm's early character is that he hits many of these same notes, but all is very much not always in good fun.

Of the six men present, Monk's skin alone bore scars. The skin of the others held no marks of their adventurous past, thanks to Doc's uncanny skill in causing wounds to heal without leaving scars. But not Monk.

His tough, rusty iron hide was so marked with gray scars that it looked as if a flock of chickens with gray−chalk feet had paraded on him. This was because Monk refused to let Doc treat him. Monk gloried in his tough looks. - The Man of Bronze

Monk was never satisfied unless picking on somebody, or being picked on in turn.

The Thing initially is what happens when being the strong, physically deformed and scarred coarse bruiser who pals around big shot scientists is a set-up played for tension and drama moreso than comedy, as said man is tormented and bitter over his condition, bordering on murderously angry liability and downright jackass. Ben is constantly losing his temper and smashing things, constantly breaking off the team, his initial spats with Johnny are frequent and not very lighthearted, and constantly put a strain on the team and Reed's ability to hold them together. It's deeply important to his character arc that he starts this way and that him lightening up and growing more into his heroic role is as much about him adapting as it's about him rediscovering himself in a new form.

(And while not as pronounced as Beast and Monk's scientific brains, Ben too is supposed to be smarter and more intelectually capable than he appears or credits himself for - he frequently tells himself that he's nothing without strength and that he's just a big dumb bruiser, he gets that whole, too dumb to collapse and too ugly to die and all that, but every now and then Reed reminds us that he isn't so easily fooled by Ben's persona)

Ben spends so much of those early issues deeply angry at Reed Richards for fully justified reasons and entirely consumed by self-loathing, convinced he isn't something anyone would want to be or be with, and it makes all of his baby steps towards becoming Ben Grimm as we know him meaningful. Every step and set back and rising above himself on his journey as Ben Grimm the hero, Ben Grimm the guy who becomes the archetypal lovable curmudgeon bruiser of comics in his own right, the guy who's going to become not just the invaluable heroic core of the Four, but a beloved and respected pillar of the superhero community in his own right, The Idol O'Millions. If I start talking about Ben Grimm I get emotional and it feels cheap to pretend like some jerk who would never cut it on Yancy Street, and probably doesn't even HAVE an Aunt Petunia, belongs in the same conversation, but he is in Ben's DNA, and the DNA he shares with the guy who made the wildest leap possible in the opposite direction.

Monk emitted a great howl. Monk's fights were always noisy, unless there was a reason for them to be quiet. Like a gladiator of old, Monk fought best when the racket was loudest.

"It'll take a good fight to get me feelin' like a human being again!"

Where as Hank McCoy initially almost feels like a kid-friendly do-over of Monk, who pushes the contrast further: his ape traits are explicit biological mutation superpowers, but he isn't just an expert chemist, he's a comically verbose super genius who talks like Littlejohn (the Fabulous Five member who spouts off sesquipedalianisms), but still cartwheels around to smash bad guys with gorilla fighting skills and roughhouses with resident rival-friend Iceman. The pop culture image of Beast is/was that of a friendly, sartorial professor who only looked monstrous, but had none of the darkness or conflict that defined much of the other X-Men, and had a fairly squeaky-clean image.

Which might be the biggest reason why his character took enough dark turns that he wound up becoming a gleefully sadistic spymaster mad scientist who runs genocide programs in Latin America "for the sake of mutantkind". Maybe it just boils down to writers overcorrecting, building off what was already there in prior storylines. Dark Beast, the Legacy Virus, the Inhumans War, etc. Maybe some of it was just bound to come up sooner or later.

The extent of Beast's development and the many, many places where the character took these turns is something this article by David Bowen goes into, and how much of it might even just be where the character was always heading, maybe ever since he decided pulling a Jekyll & Hyde and transforming himself into something new so he could live a new carefree life crossed his mind as a good idea. Maybe you can't play Mr. Hyde and pretend you're only kidding.

I sat in the sun on a bench; the animal within me licking the chops of memory; the spiritual side a little drowsed, promising subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to begin. After all, I reflected, I was like my neighbours.

I began to be aware of a change in the temper of my thoughts, a greater boldness, a contempt of danger, a solution of the bonds of obligation.

I looked down; the hand that lay on my knee was corded and hairy.

I was once more Edward Hyde.

And yes, every major X-Men character has rep sheets that put supervillains to shame and consists of at least one or five completely infedensible things, sure, but Hank's has clearly crossed to a level of villainy that can't really be walked back on, in the name of good intentions. In the name of loyalty, in the name of scientific reasoning.

And while Monk has never gone anywhere near as monstrous and never went so far as to be an outright villain, we can in fact trace a line between Beast's own loyalty-driven monstrousness, and Monk Mayfair doing things like threatening to carve up crooks if Doc lets him, chasing down and machine-gunning fleeing henchmen, and cutting off a guy's parachute and laughing off his death.

All of the Fabulous Five can be bastards to varying degrees sometimes and this mean streak of Monk's has been excised from pretty much all of his comics appearences that have played the character much closer to Ben Grimm, which is the smart thing to do and, really he should get a pass for ripping off Ben since Ben kinda ripped him off first. But maybe that mean streak, that potential Mr Hyde darkness of the genius chained to the ape, never really went away, and it just passed along to the next in line.

"Tell him I'll pull his ears off an' feed 'em to him if he don't come clean!" Monk suggested. Doc, anxious himself to note the effect of torture threats on the Mayan, repeated Monk's remarks - The Man of Bronze

Monk picked up a big, gleaming cutlass. He whetted it suggestively on a soggy shoe sole, then whacked an ear off a papier-mâché likeness of a bearded pirate, just to show Kar's men how it might go.

"Only say the word, Doc!" He slanted a great arm at a wizened fellow who looked the most cowardly of the lot. "I'll start on the little one, there!" - The Land of Terror

Monk did three or four things very violently, and finally ended with the long knife in his possession. "I'm gonna cut your heads off," Monk told his foes. Mathis raced for the cabin door. Monk watched him come but made no effort to stop him. Mathis gained the door, struggled to open it. He was not more than a long arm reach from Monk, who could have stopped him easily. Monk made no effort to stop him. He did reach out and thrust the long knife to the hilt into Mathis's parachute pack. Mathis, knowing nothing of the knife in the 'chute pack, jumped gleefully out into space.

Monk was looking out of the window. He drew back and grinned at Doc. "He made quite a splash," Monk said. "Who?" "Mathis. For some reason or other his parachute didn't open." Blumbeck yelled, "No wonder! You stuck a knife in the parachute!" "I don't remember doing that," Monk said innocently. -The Laugh of Death