#I have too many feelings about this programme

[buttstothemoon]

It's a real catch-22, right! For some reason, some proportion of men respond extremely well to being told that they're weak losers unless they "________". And it doesn't actually matter if they ________ or not. They seem content with the knowledge that they are weak losers but that folks who _________ aren't and that one day maybe they'll ________ too.

This is a thing which really confuses me about discourse. Folks (propagandists first but now filtered down to regular folks) take it as a given that the left is hostile to men. And like, in some examples sure. But nowhere near the level of hostility that men on the right have to contend with. And honestly, the only resolution I see is that it's gendered. Mostly women on the right offer criticisms of men as an ensemble population, and mostly men on the right will endlessly bully individual men for, I don't know, drinking coconut water or whatever random bullshit is gay-coded these days.

I don't think we necessarily need to buy into an hierarchy of fascism to reach these people. But perhaps we can look at the way in which male delights can be corrupted. I'm a man. I love violence. I love taking the piss. I'm extremely competitive. But I understand context and boundaries. I'm not gonna bully a stranger because he dresses the wrong way. But I am going to rib my friend for messing up in a video game. I'm not gonna punch a guy for having the wrong haircut. But I am gonna slash a guy if he crosschecks me during my 11:30 pm beer league hockey. And I'll have the best time of my life doing it. Both giving and receiving.

There are healthy non-fascistic outlets which men can take in order to feel strong and masculine and whatever they need to feel. And I think, especially, other men can get away with calling them weak and soft and unmanly without necessarily having to buy in to an hierarchical framework, because the thing that makes them weak and unmanly isn't how much they can bench, or how many women they fuck, or whether they're a programmer/engineer. It's that they violate boundaries. Social, physical, psychological boundaries.

It's perfectly fine to be a dick. Because being a dick is a kind of a game that people (mostly cis-het men) like to play with each other. But we need to agree to the game. It's perfectly fine to be violent. Because being violent is a kind of a game people (mostly cis-het men) like to play with each other. And the only way to be unmanly is to play these games without everyone else having agreed.

The corollary, for other left-wing men out there, is that when a person starts playing these games without having obtained permission, well, they've just set a boundary. They won't think that they set a boundary. And it will be a great surprise for them to be met at the level they chose to engage with. But it's their choice to set the boundary all the same. Usually, I'm not interested in playing the violence game outside of sanctioned and insured sports. But if some stranger decides to set the boundary, and let me know that they're interested in playing the violence game, I will play to win, because I am a very competitive man.

I think too frequently on the left we see this boundary be set, and we fail to engage at that same level. Because violence is bad. But violence is also awesome and fun as hell, so long as everyone involved is a consenting adult.

I mean, the temptation is to point out how weak and soft and unmanly a lot of fascist types are, but I don't think that buying into the same hierarchy that they're promoting is going to help us.

[ultrace]

A Reminder About the Moral Imperative of Pirating Games

Today -- or rather, two days from now in an extraordinary feat of time travel -- the United States Copyright Office ruled (among other things) to uphold the ban against the digital lending of antiquated and abandoned video games by digital library structures; e.g., archive.org or other sites in association with the Video Game History Foundation. This was, no surprise, at the urging of lobbyists from the ESA and other groups who are not in favor of the digital sharing of their works with anyone who has not paid appropriate purchase or licensing fees. The fact that the vast majority of video games ever produced are no longer available for initial purchase from an authorized publisher is not a mitigating consideration.

The sad reality is that regardless of what individual programmers, composers, graphic artists, voice actors or other contributors to a game may feel, most publishers of those games do not view the games as artistic achievements to be shared for posterity so much as competition against their latest offerings. Part of that perception might lie with gamers themselves, who depreciate games rapidly based upon their age, a devaluation that is greatly accelerated over other entertainment media such as movies, television, music and books. It often isn't economically feasible for publishers with the rights to games (for those games whose chain of custody can even be tracked anymore) to port the game to a modern system, as the target audience would be small and what those players will pay is a pittance. Despite its considerable technical achievements and overall coolness, personal favorite Scarabaeus simply isn't going to sell to enough persons to make up the cost of business efforts.

But the alternative shouldn't be to let unused properties rot, either. I have advocated emulation of older games before; indeed, I spent four and a half years doing exactly that to make about 1700 posts about classic arcade, computer and console video games. Generally, I advocate this because as gamers we deserve the breadth of experiences available to us and the only way to achieve that can be the legally dubious route. Now, however, it is clear that without the intervention of gamers as a population, the appreciation of old games will be lost -- as some publishers would like them to be, and that would be a shame.

Though I can't directly link to any site that provides ROMs or disk or tape images of older systems, such things can be very easy to find on Google. The difficulty of emulation varies with the system; many older cartridge-based consoles such as the Atari 2600, NES, SNES and Sega Genesis, are amazingly easy. MAME for arcade games may take a little adjustment for its interface depending on which version you go with. All of these are based on long-since obsolete chip-based ROM storage which was incredibly small. Games of the Fifth Generation of video game consoles (PS1, Sega Saturn, et al) have CDs or larger storage mediums which take a little longer to download and more storage space on your drive. The Commodore 64, Amiga, Apple II and other computer systems have tens of thousands of games -- some of astounding quality -- but most require you to operate the system within the emulator, so that may be a bridge too far. Whatever road you decide to take, good luck and enjoy.

[andywritingstuff]

Nanami Kento is the type of man that cares for you, but that's a given, isn't it?

What you don't initially expect is how much he cares about you. Some call it pathetic, he calls it devotion. From dropping you off to picking you up wherever and whenever, texting you throughout the day to assure that you're okay, to ask if you need anything, to just remind you that he's just one call away, no matter what. Doesn't matter if he's fighting a curse, doesn't matter if he's teaching, doesn't matter anything.

He's there for you. Always will be.

With just one glance he already knows if your legs are about to give out from pain, or if you're upset about something. His big, beefy arms wrap around you - the arms he uses to impart violence to violent creatures such as curses hold you dearly against his chest, making you feel protected and secure and loved.

He's the kind of man that would - and has - picked you up and just started walking with you on his arms because your legs or your back hurt too much. He always carries a second pair of shoes in his car so you have something to change whenever you decide to wear uncomfortable ones.

Kento is the type of man that, even if he's not tired, would comply and lie down with you for a while on your shared bed, a book in one hand and the other busy with rubbing your shoulder and hugging you against his side. Of course, wearing his reading glasses and the most comfortable pair of pants, checking in on you to see if you're asleep yet because his arm definitely is (still, he doesn't dare move it).

Kento is the type of man that double checks if you've taken your daily medication, to remind you to drink enough water. Kento is the type that, in low energy days, would either order in your favorite take out place or cook you your favorite dish, and clean the house because he wants you to start fresh tomorrow - a clean, organized canvas for you to go on about your day. A new chance.

Kento is the type to give you surprises when you least expect it. You mentioned once six months ago that you wanted to learn how to create pottery? He got you classes. You want to learn programming? That's so funny, he just sent you a link to a group of programmers that offer free classes every Thursday. You mentioned you want to go to a museum to see the archeology finds of some recently discovered dinosaurs? Woah, he just happens to have tickets for that very same exhibit! Art museum? It's a date. Whatever you mention goes straight into his mental note list with a whole lot of other things about you.

He just wants to see that shine in your eyes. That big smile that warms his heart and, even if he can't make you forget about your pain, much less cure it, he wants you to feel cared for. He wants you to enjoy your life, just like he enjoys it when he's with you.

a/n: little drabble to cope with a new arthritis diagnosis :( wishing nanami was real. sorry for being so inactive here! too many ideas, so little time and energy ughh!! ive got like 3 fic ideas but haven't had time to write anything. let's see if i can do something over the weekend :b. NOT PROOFREAD!!

[voxina]

JADE has recalled her stint on The X Factor, saying she didn’t know anyone who came away from the show without “some sort of mental health issue”.

The singer-songwriter featured on the talent search programme in 2011 and joined girl group Little Mix when she was 18 years old, an experience she has reflected on in a new interview with The Independent.

The ‘Angel Of My Dreams’ singer admitted that being on The X Factor involved adjusting to “pretty fucked up” things, namely sharing bunk beds with other female contestants, regardless of age.

“Even at 18, I knew there were people who weren’t mentally well in there, keeping everyone up at night,” she said. “I don’t know if there was even security outside the house. It’s scary to think about now, but I was too young to realise that at the time.”

Her comments come after many entertainment world figures have demanded more protections be put in place for young artists following the death of One Direction star Liam Payne, who auditioned for The X Factor during the same series as Thirlwall.

Although she didn’t address Payne’s passing directly, she did mention thinking the series “had to end” after its 2018 conclusion.

“I don’t think that kind of show can exist any more. We’re in a different place now,” she added. “We wouldn’t put someone that’s mentally unwell on a TV screen and laugh at them while they sing terribly. The concept of a joke act on a show is just cruel.”

She said the concept was “all very Roman empire” while joking that it was the “best training ever” for her to enter the music industry. On a more sombre note, she continued: “I don’t know anyone that’s come off that show and not had some sort of mental health issue on the back of it.”

Thirwall also admitted to feeling “conflicted” about criticising the show. “It changed my life,” she explained. “I was from a very normal working-class family up north, I had tried sending demos in to labels, I’d gigged all over, I was doing everything I could to make it, and I needed a show like that to give me a chance.”

She continued to say that she’d guess “five per cent of the people that went on there have come out of it not unscathed, but having survived; the other 95 per cent have suffered in silence.”

Reflecting on how people readjust to normal life after participating in something like The X Factor, she said: “How do you go from being on that show to back to your nine-to-five? How do you get signed to the label, think you’ve made it, and then once your song doesn’t hit the Top 10, you’re just dropped? It’s so savage, this machine that we’re a part of. Even back then, we knew how lucky we were every day that we were still signed.”

[Full article]

[nipuni]

My dad died yesterday, he was 63

I would like to share a little about him and our story if anyone wants to read, this is not a happy story

My parents divorced when I was three and I went to live with my mom so I saw my dad's life in snapshots, once a week at first and then once a year when he moved abroad and I would spend the summers with him. Every time I would catch up with him he would have a different partner or apartment.

My time with him was always fun, he was laid back, adventurous and open, he would let me do all kinds of crazy stuff while my mom was the strict one. He was a genius to me, he taught me how to program my own games when I was nine, he would make me take computers and appliances apart and reassemble them to teach me how they worked, he made me love science, the outdoors and travelling. He was great at teaching and cooking and driving. He worked on tours for famous musicians as a sound tech, he made 3D films for museums and theme parks when it was all very new, he was a photographer, a programmer, electrician, mechanic, artist and could play many instruments and write poetry!!

The first crack between us was when there was a huge split between my mom's side of the family and his over money and a lot of ugly truths stared coming to light. I realized that when it came to money he was willing to put himself before me and the fights between him and my mom were awful. But in the end once the dust settled we both pretended it never happened.

One weekend I went to visit him and realized his current girlfriend would stick around at last and she had a daughter almost my age!! I now had a little sister and I loved it.

A year later the country fell apart and he fled abroad along with them and even though I missed them I would visit for months at a time every year. I saw him start his life over, he started his own company and I was so proud of him!!

Everything was great for eight years, until one day he told me that my step mom and sister left him and he would sell everything and come back to the country. This was the last time I would ever hear of them, they vanished, I mourned my step sister for years. This was also when his life fell apart.

At 17 adulthood came with a lot of revelations. My mom told me that my dad had been an addict since he was very young, before I was born, my whole life, cocaine and alcohol amongst other things, and everyone around him had been putting up with it and helping him but couldn't take it anymore. He had cheated on her when they had me and had cheated on my step mom too. He would lie to get what he wanted and trusting him was getting increasingly harder.

All of my memories of him were now seen through a different lens. I felt betrayed. I could now tell every time he had been high, and knew where the money he asked of me when to, I was aware of every little lie. I was angry and frustrated at him for the pain he caused my mom and everyone around him. And for squandering the potential I knew he had, for always making the wrong decisions, one mistake after another. And I hated feeling this way the most.

After he came back to the country alone he could never recover, he would relapse, overdose, refuse rehab or any medical help. He would escape psychiatrics facilities and hospitals in the middle of the night, he was a menace!! lmao.

Our relationship was still good despite all this, different but still standing, he had always been my friend even if he wasn't the best at being a dad or partner, I would always scold him and tell him of different job opportunities I came up with for him to try out but now there was this distance between us. I became the parent of the relationship in a way and he didn't like being told what to do. I saw him spiral and I was scared for him.

I've always heard all these stories about addicts finding purpose and fighting for their loved ones, so every time he would jokingly talk to me about how high he was and seemed to enjoy it despite my warnings and pleading it made me feel like I was not enough of a reason to get better, as self centered as it may be I was a teen and I felt powerless to stop him, insignificant. People could get better for their children, but not for me.

I knew this way of thinking was flawed and selfish and he was the one struggling, I knew he was a victim. I spent the last of my teenage years and early twenties trying to fight back this feeling so I could preserve our relationship, we always kept in contact but over time he changed and was no longer the person I knew.

He became a stranger, often times incoherent and delusional, his views changed, he was paranoid, his addiction got worse and worse and now all I could feel was pity and guilt, our once good relationship was now reduced to a few interactions where he would ask me for money, I knew I was possibly funding his self destruction and he was likely lying to me but he also needed to pay for medication and so I couldn't refuse him.

I had my own life now, a husband and plans for the future. When I decided to move abroad a few years ago I knew our hug goodbye could be the last, he was broke and unstable but I thought once I was settled and had a job and a citizenship I could have enough money to get him tickets to visit and show him the life I had made for myself like he had done in my childhood.

But then Covid happened, and he would never agree to make calls. Soon after he was diagnosed with cancer, I would ask about his health and he would say he was fine. He wasn't fine, he was smoking 4 packs a day. He got the cancer removed but refused further treatment, he said he didn't have any purpose left in life and no reasons to keep living, he had a stroke and couldn't feel half his body when he was forcibly hospitalized, his cancer had spread and he hadn't been eating for a long time, he hid all this from me, I first heard it from my aunt in tears over the phone yesterday, he tried to escape the hospital in the night and had to be tied up and sedated, he never woke up.

He died alone, all that is left of his family is me and my aunt and we both live in different countries. There is nobody there to even bury him. I feel like I abandoned him. I've always known I would feel this way when this day came, in a way I've been mourning him for many years and have carried this guilt for even longer.

I had the coolest dad, cocaine took him away. I wish this had a better and uplifting message. I just wanted to get this off my chest. He taught me a lot and made me who I am, and I have a lot of great memories with him. He struggled all of his life with his mental health and despite it all he was still amazing and deserved so much better.

He always said that when he was a ghost he would follow me around, I hope he isl!! so I can live for both of us, I love you dad!! and I'm so sorry 🕯️

[irisinluv]

Yandere Stardew Valley- Sebastian

I've been playing some Yandere Stardew mods recently. While I love them..... I feel like they do my husband (Sebastian) wrong. The citizens of Pelican Town are telling me that they can't hang out with me because Sebstian threatened them. That they've noticed some weird behavior. That he's physically violent. I disagree with all of these for Sebby.

He's our hot programmer boyfriend who lives in his basement bedroom, and only emerges to enjoy a smoke break, or to go see his friends. Now, while again, I do enjoy playing the mods...... I think his cannon behavior sets him up to be the perfect chronically online yandere. Pelican Town isn't exactly the most connected (6 out of the 11 rivals have access to a computer), but there's still potential. Obviously they're gonners if they have a computer. Sam finds himself doxed after making a comment about the gifts you gave him this week, and poor Haley's socials are blowing up with hate comments- from her personal insta to her photography blog.

But what about the other 5? The ones who are more disconnected? Well. It's easy enough to get Shane fired from joja. A little email to Morris from "HQ" saying he either fires Shane or his own pay gets docked..... well. Suddenly, everyone's favorite alcoholic doesn't even have a job anymore. Elliott suddenly has all these taxes he hasn't paid on his little shack..... beachfront properties cost a lot, you know. The parents stop letting Penny watch their kids after some..... explicit photos get leaked. It doesn't matter that they're edited. These people don't know about Photoshop. All they know is apparently Penny's making ends meet to support her mother..... and there's a new favorite subject to gossip on between all the older women. The other rivals are equally taken care of. All you need to focus on now is how Sebastian is the only reliable option in the whole damn town.

And he knows you so well, doesn't he? You, who lived away from it all until now. You, who WAS connected to the internet. Who had their entire life detailed through Facebook updates and Instagram posts. Honestly, Sebastian thinks that maybe he DOESN'T need to leave Pelican town... looking at the life you lived before coming to the valley, he thinks its much easier to keep you safe when he can control everything that goes on. There were too many factors to your old life. Too many parties to go to, coworkers to talk to, ex-boyfriends/girlfriends worry about. No. Sebastian thinks that city life isn't fit for the two of you to start you life together.

While he enjoyed seeing the trip down memory lane of who you were before becoming the farmer, and learning more about your likes and dislikes, he much prefers this version of you. The version of you who he found bouncing on their toes outside his door, excitedly shoving a frozen tear at him. Who eventually became the only person he was genuinely excited to have come barging into his room unannounced. And the thought of moving into the farm with you was all together far too tempting. He can picture it already. He'd set up a little area to work on his bike, he'd help out around the farm for you (he saw your hands covered in scrapes and splinters one day, and you sheepishly told him your fences had started wearing down.... but fixing a fence was another first for you. So you ended up scraping yourself up a bit on the old wood. Now, Sebastain, who, while he doesn't enjoy it, grew up with a carpenter mother..... well. He's going to make sure you never have that many splinters again.) Oh and he can already imagine it. The two of you, far away from the rest of the town, from prying eyes, no one to hear what you two would get up to as he helped you relax after a long day of working the feilds.....

This fantasy would sustain him until you eventually asked him to marry you. I don't think he would rush anything. To you, and the rest of the citizens, he was just normal Sebastian. Showing up for band practice, playing pool at the bar (although he seemed to play much better when a certain farmer came to watch). He just realized that the best way to control all the factors in town would be to remain anonymous. Avoid suspicion. After all. In a small town like that, it would be all too easy to turn against him if he decided to publicly threaten someone. And how would you react if you came to drop off some fresh sashimi to your boyfriend, only to find him being dragged out of his house by Clint, with Marlon standing nearby, ready to ship him off to face justice in the adventurers guild? No. That wouldn't do. He can't add any more stress to you like that. He'd remain the puppeteer, pulling the strings of the valley.

This isn't to say Sebastian never stalks you in person or anything like that. He can't help himself. He's a night owl. He knows the villagers schedules, has since before you even came to town. So, he knows he can get away with digging in the trash to find the straw you threw away at the bar. And if someone does hear him.... well. Linus is going to be everyone's first thought. He does, however, start adopting a stricter routine as far as monitoring your house after you mention how you sell your produce.

Sebastian was rightfully horrified when you explained that Mayor Lewis comes by your farm at night to collect anything you wish to sell. How it's such a relief to be able to just chuck things in the the bin as you're rushing to bed at 1:50 in the morning, only to get up first thing and start your day again, and not have to worry about lugging all your goods to the store. Sebastian won't criticize you for the lack of sleep..... no. That's not what's worrying. What's worrying is that this old man who has a gold statue of himself and who gets it on in the bushes with his secret girlfriend (of course Sebastian knows about that) is showing up to your house sometime after 2 am. His mind flashes back to his fantasy of the two of you, completely alone on the farm.... and then is mortified as this fantasy morphs into a nightmare where he looks up from bed with you, and sees Lewis' wrinkled face peering through the window. Yea. No. Sebastain installs some hidden cameras to make sure Lewis doesn't get up to anything funny while you're defenseless, asleep, alone..... ok he might need to get a new mayor elected. The old man might just have to go. Perhaps to a home outside the town. Regardless, he makes sure Lewis stops coming by as frequently. Frustratingly, he isn't able to completely stop it, but that'll be an easy fix once the two of you are married. He'll act surprised, "wow Lewis, that's so kind of you to help out the farmer all this time. But hey, don't worry, I'll take over. I'm up late anyways, and it's the least I can do!" But Sebastian still wakes up in a cold sweat and frantically rushes to check the cameras, making sure you're OK. That Lewis really is just checking the shipping bin.

Once y'all get married, he shows a bit more of that possessive side to you. But you chalk it up to just bedroom spicy time, and honestly find his hand tightening on your waist as Elliot asks you to read his latest poem hot.

Just. Yandere Sebastian brain rot.

[theemporium]

"You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." violet fluff please with jack hughes

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.”

.

“There she is! Baby Z!” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the looks you were getting from the strangers around you as you quickly walked towards where Jack was standing. The sign was bad enough, held proudly in his arms as he waved it like anyone could miss it. But the yelling was a step too far, even for him.

“I think China heard you,” you grumbled to him once you were close enough, but you couldn’t fight the smile growing on your face as he dropped the sign and quickly wound his arms around you in a tight hug.

“S’been a while,” Jack murmured, not eager to let you go just yet as you both swayed back and forth on the spot. “Missed having you on the east coast.” 

“Surprised you even know you are on the east,” you retorted, smiling a little when you felt the boy huff out a laugh.

“Always so cheeky,” Jack commented as he finally pulled away, not even giving you a chance to say anything as he reached for your suitcase and started pulling it behind him. “She’s a college graduate and she thinks she can say whatever she wants.” 

“That piece of paper does make me feel powerful,” you joked, following him out of the airport and towards the car park. 

“M’proud of you,” Jack said in an earnest voice, his smile kind and genuine as he glanced over at you. “I know how hard you worked to get this degree.” 

“And now I have four years of college under my belt and not a fucking clue what I’m doing with the rest of my life,” you snorted but the joke fell a bit flat.

“You’ll work it out,” Jack assured you, reaching his free hand to squeeze your shoulder. “I believe in you.” 

It felt generic and a bit scripted to say, but he meant it. Jack had known you for as long as he had known Trevor. You were a Zegras at the end of the day: charming, kind and loveable in your own way (and in a far less annoying way than Trevor). But you were determined once you set your mind on something, you just needed to get there. 

It had been something Jack had always admired about you. One of the many things he always admired about you. 

And other than the two weeks you visited Michigan in the summer, he hardly saw you as much as he liked in the four years you had been away at college on the other side of the country. He was glad to finally have you close again. 

“You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know,” you spoke up eventually, looking at him in the driver's seat.

Jack briefly glanced at you. “Hm?” 

“Baby Z,” you said. “You’re the only one who calls me that.” 

“Alex and Cole used to say it all the time,” Jack retorted, his brows furrowing together a little as he racked his memory of his development programme days. 

“Yeah, but they stopped when I kicked them in the balls,” you told him, your lips twitching in amusement. 

“So I get a free pass?” He questioned, something quite smug in his smile. 

“Or I’m just waiting to find a fitting punishment for you,” you snapped back. 

Jack’s grin widened. “Whatever you say, Baby Z. I’m not dropping it. Better get used to it now that you’re back home.” 

.

[littlemissshoei]

DARLIN' CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?

RENSUKE KUNIGAMI X FEM READER

18+ ; character has been aged up.

story synopsis: Your oh-so cherished friendship with Kunigami fell into shambles the moment he returned from wildcard, discarding everything you guys had built until now into the trash. He visits his home during his two week break, and you're determined to give the boy a piece of your mind.

CONTENT WARNING: friends to "strangers" to lovers, conflict, argument, talking it out, post!wildcard kunigami, kunigami has a soft spot for you, consent check in, manhandling, marking, rough, dirty talk, degradation and praise, breeding kink, creampie, angst with happy ending, aftercare, confessions. characters have been aged up.

HE WAS SUCH A sweet boy. You had never a guy like Rensuke Kunigami before. A nature as gentle as his wasn't something the world deserved. Ever since he was little, the boy had struggled standing up to bullies. While he never said something back, the effect their words had on him didn't go unnoticed. Slowlyy but surely, he became quieter, more reserved. That once with smiles adorned faced had a somber gloom to it, and it was eating him alive.

That was until a little girl his age said a piece of her mind, yelling at the group from the top of her lungs. In all his life, he had never expected such kindness from a total stranger, it made him feel loved and seen.

Ever since that day, the two of you became unseperable, doing everything you could together. Playdates, school projects, hanging out, it was always the two of you against the world, and you wouldn't have wanted it in any other way.

A friendship like you had with him was something you had never experienced before. Being around him felt comforting — the boy felt like home. You enjoyed talking to him about everything was was on your mind, from the most trivial things to serious issues, and he always sat there, oh so prettily, listening to your soothing voice. The way you opened up to him was one of the many things he admired about you, there were just so many to count!

He loved the way your hair looked every time the soft, summer breeze blew through it, the way your eyes sparkled whenever you got excited. He loved the change in your tone whenever you'd talk to his younger sisters, playing with them so adorably, it almost made his mind wander to scenarios of you being a mom. He loved the way you smelled, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, and most importantly, he loved you for staying true to yourself, not caring about what others said.

There was definitely something there between the two of you. The issue was that neither dared to cross the line between friends and lovers, scared of what it might result in. Both of your parents teased you about it, alongside Kunigami's sisters who absolutely adored you, but you were afraid, and nothing could be done about it.

Atleast, that's what you thought

KUNIGAMI HAS ALWAYS HAD a passion for football, and he was good at it too. Despite his kind spirit always making him the target of his teammate's outbursts, he happily accepted it as long as he felt the rush of victory.

When he told you about being accepted into a programme to create the perfect striker you weren't surprised, supporting his dream as much as you could. It was exciting at first, and you listened to his stories in awe. He finally managed to make some new friends, and things were going well.

That was until one day, he stopped messaging you. He was online, yet no trace of his presence in your dust catching conversations. It was strange, he usually replied at all times. It went on for a while, until he finally did. When he did though, his words were short and to the point. This wasn't the same Kunigami you knew. Every time you tried confronting him he ignored it, and little by little you had enough.

You remembered oh so vividly how you asked him what he was doing, just for him to tell you to "Stop prying into his personal business because you were annoying." — alongside that, most of his replies were the same. Uninterested and rude.

Months had passed since the last time you had spoken to your so called best friend — who was more like a stranger at the moment — and even though it hurt, life moved on without uncertainity. It wasn't worth crying over spoiler milk, after all, you still had his sisters by your side who also took notice of his strange behaviour.

Today you decided to visit his house again. The girls had been nagging you all week about visiting them again, and you couldn't say no. You got ready and finally made your way towards the Kunigami household, where you were met by a strange surprise.

ONCE YOU OPENED THE the door, you walked straight into the firm, muscular back of a tall figure. You stepped back and looked up, noticing a familiar haircut. Your eyes widened as you muttered a simple "sorry" before walking past him into the living room, not even daring to look him in the eyes.

Kunigami's little sister was happily waiting for you in the livingroom with a tea set and two tiaras, one resting on her head while the other awaited to be seated on yours. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you sat down next to her, listening to the etiqettue she had prepared for the two of you as you placed the tiara on top of your head.

You didn't notice the tall male spying on the two of you from the corner of the door, an unreadable expression on his face as watched you take care of her as if she was your own kid. So kind, so caring.. He tried to surpress the feeling bubbling inside his chest, but it grew the longer he stared at you. He walked away, leaving the two of you enjoy the rest of your time together.

After a while, Kunigami's parents rushed downstairs, gesturing for the little girl to follow them.

"Oh? Do you have to go somewhere? I'll ge—"

"Oh, no! You can stay here [name] we'll be back in a second, just wait a little." The other sister replied as she put her coat on and waved her goodbye.

You weren't even able to complain before the door closed and you were left alone in the livingroom. Shrugging, you got comfortable on the couch, deciding to let the time pass by scrolling endlessly on your phone.

Great plan, but not waterproof. You happened to forget to charge your phone earlier today and your charger was not in your jacket's pocket. Just great! Luckily, you remembered about the spare charger you left here for situations like this. Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out a message to Kunigami's sister, asking where it was. She replied fast, and your face took a sour turn when she told you it was in the boy's room.

Just what you needed, a confrontation with Rensuke. You groaned, standing up almost hesitantly before making your way towards the stairs.

You knew your way to his room, it was where the two of you spent your most time together. With one last, deep breath you opened the door and gasped when you saw the scene in front of you. Out of all possible times you walked into him getting changed. Shirtless. He seemed to have gotten more muscular, and you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how his back would look like full of scratches. Your face reddened as you looked down and you could hear a faint scoffing. It took everything in your power to not slap some sense into him. Instead, you looked up to face him again, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Hey, Ren. Have you seen my charger?"

He looked at you, almost confused before he turned his back to you. The audacity this boy had right now.

"What the.. Hey! What the hell man. Just tell me where the charger is, dammit."

You were met with the same quietness.

And that was enough to make you snap.

YOUR HAND GRASPED HIS shoulder and turned him around. You could see that he was caught off guard, but simply couldn't care less.

"You fucking idiot what the hell happened to you?? why are you acting the way you are, are you crazy?!" You said, tone raising the more worked up you became. Ultimately, once you started talking, nothing could stop you any longer from pouring you heart out to him. Your yelling was followed by tears and franctic hand movements, waving around as you told him just how much his behaviour was hurting you.

"You're doing it again and again, treating me like shit, as if I mean nothing to you! Is that what it is Rensuke? Have you gotten tired of me, does nothing what I did for you have any meanings?! What the fuck happened to you, what made you become a total asshole?!"

Finally, everything came to an end, and as you were about to walk out, having given up on obtaining the charger, Kunigami pushed you against the door, slamming it shut as he towered over you. Your eyes widened in surprise, heart beating out of your chest as you looked up to meet him face. He didn't say anything, just inched closer and closer until your faces were only milimeters away. The boy's breath was fanning over your lips, the room filled with the sound of heavy breathing.

"R..re—"

Before you could finish your sentence his lips crashed into yours, meeting them in a fierce, passionate kiss. His tongue ghosted over your lower lip and entered your mouth once he felt you gasp. You were more than surprised. You should be mad at him, push him away, reject him even. But the heart wants what it wants, and right now it craves to cross the line you never dared to cross.

Your hands found their way in his hair, causing a stiffled moan to escape his lips once you started tugging at it. The kiss made you dizzy and breathless, and once you finally parted to catch your breath, Kunigami snaked his arm around your waist and dragged you towards the bed, pushing you down before hovering over you and resuming his attack on your lips.

He knew that he did not deserve your kindness, and that you should've walked away, but if there was one thing the male learned while attending Blue Lock was that you wouldn't get anywhere without being selfish.

Being a little egoistical wouldn't hurt now, would it?

Without breaking the kiss he spread your legs open, getting in between them as his hand slid down your body, sneakily creeping under your shirt.

Kunigami broke the kiss, distancing himself to look at your face. You were a mess, panting, eyes half lidded, lips bruised because of how he kissed you. You were stunning.

"Rensuke..."

You breathed out, watching his expression soften as his calloused hand cupped your cheek.

"We can stop right now." The male said firmly. No matter how badly he wanted you, he didn't want to hurt you in the process.

"No." You replied, standing your ground. Something in his eyes seemed to have change, lust flickering in them.

"No backing out now."

Your body felt on fire with the way his hands worked on it, touch as electrifying as it could be. Your shirt was discarded of the moment you said no, and his rough hands had a hard time unbuttoning your bra. Once he managed to do so, it was thrown across his room.

You had never seen this side of Kunigami before. He was like an animal in heat. Yet, you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. You didn't even notice it until you realized you were grinding up against him, but he didn't seem to mind. With one hand hand he groped your breast, while the other was being attacked by his mouth, tongue swirling around your now hardened nipple. You felt overwhelmingly good, whines and moans escaping your lips. After he finished up ravaging your chest, his breath ghosted over your body as he left marks in its wake, both in visible and invisible places, almost strategically.

The rest went like a whirlwind. The sounds of clothes ruffling accompanied by heavy breaths and beating hearts caught your attention, and soon you found yourself staring at his massive, throbbing cock, standing up with precum leaking from the reddened tip.

HIS FINGER SLID DOWN from your stomach to your exposed cunt, experimentally sliding two digits in while his thumb worked its way with your clit. All you could do was blabber his name, feeling yourself grind against his fingers that were pumping in and out of you. This wasn't enough, no. He needed more. YOU needed more, and he was happy to oblige.

Once he pulled them out, you felt empty and cold, but that feeling was soon replaced by the sensation of his tip rubbing in between your wet folds.

" 'M gonna fuck you like the whore you are, hm?"

All you could do was nod, gripping onto the matress as he started sliding his thick member into your tight hole. You had never experienced something like this, it hurt so bad yet felt so good, the burning sensation sending shivers down your spine. Once he was completely in he didn't hesitate in the slightest, instead he started thrusting in and out at a merciless pace, sliding his lenght all the way out before ramming it inside.

His tongue dragged across your neck, hands groping your tits as he bullied his cock into your needy cunt. The way your ways fluttered and clenched around him, eagerly forming themselves in his shape. It was something to die for, something he had craved for so long.

"You like that hm? When I'm all rough with you. Fucking filthy."

He spat out as his arms hooked around your legs, spreading them wider for better access. His balls slapped against your ass as he continued going, overstimulating you to the point your brain felt like nothing more mushy sponge.

You felt your orgasm nearing, and so did he. Kunigami smirked, picking up his pace.

"Come on, cream all over that cock, won'tcha? You seem so eager to get me all dirty anyway."

That was enough to make you come, his pace never slowing down as you rode out your orgasm.

"Now you're gonna be a good girl for me and make me cum too, won't you?"

You franctically nodded, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

The closer he got to his orgasm, the more images of you with his little sister flashed before his mind, and he knew what he had to do.

" 'M gonna fuck a baby into you. You'd make such a good mommy, so, so pretty with my cum all stuffed into you."

"Fuck.. yes please!"

"You want that?" He cooed.

"I do, please Ren!" You moaned out as he pressed up against you, chest flush against yours as he kissed your cheek.

"Then so be it."

And with that he released inside you, your eager cunt milking his cock dry until all his seed was inside. His sloppy thrusts fucked everything in deeper, making sure no drop was wasted.

His forehead leaned against yours, eyes watching you as you slowly recovered from the wild ride.

Kunigami pulled out and stood up. You were wondering where he went until he came back with a towel and helped you get cleaned up. He tenderly kissed your stomach and wrapped the blanket around you.

"Uhm.. Ren. I think I should get dressed maybe..?"

You suggested, remembering his parents could be back at any minute.

"Right."

You quickly found your clothes — all except for your shirt that seemed to have dissapeared into thin air. —

"Have you seen my shirt?"

He shook his head, instead throwing another shirt in your direction.

"Wear this."

"Your.. jersey?"

"Yeah."

Your cheeks reddened as you put it on. It smelled like him, and the material felt so good.

Now it was time to talk about what happened.

"Ren.. would you mind explaining what the hell was going on? Do you hate me?"

He sat down next to you and sighed, grimacing slightly.

"Ofcourse I don't, [name]. I love you too much for that."

"I love you too Ren.. I think it's obvious in what way too."

"Yeah.. same here."

"So if we both feel the same.."

"I want you to be my girlfriend yeah."

"I'd love that. But don't try and dodge the topic we were discussing earlier."

He sighed but ultimately gave up, explaining in heavy detailed what happened in blue lock. Your face twisted in sadness and you pulled him into a tight hug after he finished speaking.

"What?"

"I just felt like you needed a hug. Did you not?"

"I did. Thank you. I'm sorry for everything."

The way his voice broke made your heart ache and you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"It's okay. Just, please. Talk to me next time. I'd never leave you, you know that right?"

"I do, yeah. You're right."

He pulled you back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you as he planted a kiss on your head.

"I love you, [name]"

"I love you too, Ren"

You didn't know when you started becoming sleepy, yet soon enough the both of you drifted off to sleep, and when his sister walked in to ask him where you went, she fistbumped the air when she saw the two of you cuddled up in his bed.

"WE DID IT!"

She cheered once she rushed downstairs, highfiving her parents as they all snickered.

"I knew we'd get them to confess. This plan was bulletproof."

[destinylaurier]

The Alchemy

a/n: thank you for choosing this to read! this is my first post on tumblr, and i'm excited to share this with you! as someone who likes to read, i just couldn't find enough stories about my man here, and i'd like to share what i had in mind if you'll let me. i really hope you enjoy reading this, because it is long af, and it's been in the drafts for several days now!!

summary : there's no such place like home. and for you, home, meant san diego. top gun has called upon the top pilots their programme has ever produced, and that includes you. but it also includes him. the one that got away. you never took it across the line, but it had always felt like more. it had always been push and pull with the two of you, and you could curse the universe for reuniting you. but would you, really?

pairing : bradley bradshaw x f!reader (callsign : karma)

warnings : alcohol use, inaccurate navy references, just some good old fluff.

word count : 3.6k words

North Island, San Diego.

Top Gun.

Home.

It held many memories. Too many. And you were sure it would weigh down on you as you walk through the doors of the Hard Deck.

There was no doubt that's where everyone would be headed the eve before the first day of training, just to cool off before they'd be stressed out by the mission parameters first thing in the goddamn morning, you were sure.

You'd taken a shower, and slipped on a figure-hugging pair of denims, a white tee, and your branded hand-me-down brown leather jacket that had those beige ruffles you liked so much.

Making sure your black Bronco was locked, you turn towards the doors of the Hard Deck in front of you. Behind you, the sun was glaring with a beautiful mix of orange and yellow, a warm contrast to the still bright blue sky.

The Hard Deck was a constant in your life, at least four years ago. Games were played, songs were sung, drinks had been drank. And there had almost been… never mind.

Okay, maybe you'd been standing outside for way too long, and it was a form of stalling.

It is.

Huffing out a quick breath, your head jerks to the side as you place your hands on the handles, pushing inwards. The bell rings, and it seems to announce your arrival to pretty much every person in the bar, most of them turning to you mid-conversation or just out of interest.

Here goes nothing.

You take not more than four steps inside, and your head turns at the booming Southern drawl from deep inside.

"Is that who I think it is?!" Jake 'Hangman' Seresin teases, with that jerky smile that was seemingly always plastered right across his face. His arms are out, one holding a pool stick, and the other a beer, as he begins walking toward you.

"Karma, my dear, how've you been?" He passes you the beer, and you take a long sip, not bothering to greet him at all, because that's just how you've been. And to deal with Hangman, you'd have to take at least a sip or two. Oh, scratch that, maybe a bottle or two.

But you know he was a good man deep inside. Very, very, very deep inside.

“Oh, you know, Bagman, worse now that I’ve seen your face.” You nod as a reassurance, giving him that sarcastic smile of yours that made his brighter, teeth shining as he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down towards his boots.

“Well, I thought they’d sent the invitations to the best of us, Coyote, but it seems it went to anyone…” And there he is…

“Last I recalled, you’re the one who leaves your wingmen behind, Hangman.” You snark back, shrugging off your jacket and placing it over the backrest of a chair, turning your back to him as you wave at Penny behind the bar.

“Penny, it’s been a while…” The woman just smiles at you, pouring a glass of her finest Tennessee she learnt you appreciate over those years you’d come to her bar almost every night.

You raise the shot glass to her as a thank you, downing it and letting it burn down the way of your throat, a pleasant yet bitter feeling that you were fond of.

This place reeked of him.

Those deep feelings and emotions that you’d tried so very hard to toss to the very back of your mind, slowly, steadily, it was all coming back to you as you look around the bar.

The pool table, where you’d challenged one another so many times, the piano, where you’d sang your hearts out almost every night you spent together at the bar, and the stools, where sometimes, you’d spill something by out to each other, and it’s somehow just bring you closer than before. Every single time.

You catch a glimpse of Natasha by the table and sigh in relief. You were glad you didn't have to suffer Hangman alone. You grab your jacket, shooting a 'bye, Pen!' to the older woman on the other side of the bar, who replies back, and you could hear the smile on her face. Natasha also seems happy that you'd showed up, holding out her hands for a hug.

You accept the embrace with a chuckle, rubbing her back and smiling into her shoulder in happiness. Phoenix had always been the low-maintenance friend. Wherever you'd leave it off, it could build back up again, restoring itself like a puzzle, and it'd remain constant until work stepped in.

She introduces you to Bob, her cute back-seater from Lemoore, who seemed like the shy kind. The two of you started talking, and you teach him the perfect way to line up a shot and take it. When he shoots the shot, and makes three balls into the pit, you clap your hands as Bob jumps in ecstatic-ness. You offer to buy him a beer, and he agrees, but only if you'd take one with him.

As you walk back towards the bar, there’s just a tiny, tiny change in the atmosphere that you’re able to pick up as the bell rings, meaning someone’s entered. That someone, could very well be someone completely not related to whatever was going on in your life, or someone very significant.

Secretly, you hoped it was the significant.

You'd concluded, the seats by the bar were way too close to the entrance, because the way you could practically feel the breeze blocked by him, it made you feel shivers across your body.

Okay, okay, maybe you shouldn’t think about this right now. Or ever again.

You down the second shot Penny pours for you, unaware of the knowing look she gives, knowing you’d need it for the events of the night. And Hangman.

And you knew who.

Or maybe you’d just get drunk on your feelings. Who knows?

The familiar glint in the air is cleared out when you see him.

Broader shoulders, grown mustache, and he’d gotten an inch or two taller somehow. The aviators looked good on him. So did the Hawaiian shirt. But you knew that.

His lips are curled up, and you assume it’s due to the excitement of being here. Being called up was exciting, sure, but it means that you’re probably one of those Top Gun wouldn’t mind losing in a dogfight or flight.

But you’ve been doing this long enough to know how to make it out. Most of the times.

“Bradshaw! Is that you?” Phoenix calls upon him like it’s been eons since they’d seen him. He just smiles, walking over to the farthest corner of the bar Penny made sure had the largest pool table for them.

He holds a mixture of smug and sheepishness to his expression, probably because he was the most dressed, in his true fashion. Just like the pictures your father had shown you.

He nears the pool table, just as Natasha rounds the corner of it, lining up her shot, “This is how we find out you’re state-side?”

Bradley winces just a bit, sheepishness growing as he replies, looking around the bar and placing his aviators in the v of his shirt, “Thought I’d surprise you back..”

Natasha simply hums in response, before lining up her shot and shooting it, pool stick jabbing, very intentionally, in his stomach, making him groan and hunch over.

You hold back the loud laugh you were sure to let out if it hadn’t been for Bradley’s eyes meeting your own.

And it’s so familiar all of a sudden.

Those butterflies that had flutteringly rushed up and down your back, the warmth on your cheeks which were surely maroon, the twists in your gut, all of it, back, for a second of eye contact.

“Guess I surprised you back.” Natasha replies, pressing her lips into a thin line at the man still hunched over.

Her reply makes him look over at Natasha, as he stands straight after pushing his palms against his thighs to steady himself, patting her twice on the forearm.

Then, he looks at you again.

It’s almost like he’s studying you, because you thought it’d be a fluttering glance like always. But it wasn’t that.

He says your name with a tone, one that leaves those butterflies in your stomach dancing once more around, just as the chill returns.

“Bradley.” You hate that you sound so breathless.

You tell yourself that it’s just Bradley, the one you grew up with, the one you went to high school with, and then the one who you trained to be the best of the best with. He was your best friend, and even if you hadn’t talked in what felt like ages, things would never change between the two of you. Especially not for the worse.

That’s just how close you were.

But then the heart steps in. And it’s a struggle of do or don’t, because if you do, you’re probably letting go of this beautiful bond you two hold. But if you don’t, it’s just more heart break watching him take those girls home. The prettier ones.

“You definitely know how to make an entrance, don’t ya’?” That smile on your face slips on like a glove, and you watch him as he looks down, the slightest tinge of pink coating his cheeks, the slightest shift of his hair, that looked perfect even when it was messy.

Green hazel eyes meet yours, and you’re enthralled at being able to actually see him face to face. He just seemed so much more real, and pretty from up close. Those random midnight phone calls could never do him any justice.

“Well, I learnt from the best…” Okay, maybe you made a few wild entrances in school. But he was right there by your side, reluctant, but just happy.

The two of you were chaos together, always causing trouble, even when you wore pigtails and he had that awful bowl-cut your eighteen-year-old-selves would cringe at. Even when he was the man of the baseball game and you were on the bleachers, cheering him on, and probably the loudest.

One day, a normal day, you caught yourself staring. And then, came the what-if’s. Thinking about the how’s. And the why nots.

The pining was excruciating. Having to be so close to him, but yet, so far away.

You’d chicken out every time you mustered up the courage. You’d watch as he backs away to his car and heads home as the kiss on your forehead left a lingering chill.

You’d like to think you had gotten over him. But standing here felt like standing on a tightrope with no net below, like if you fell, like the first time, you’d keep plummeting to endless nothingness, hopelessly in love with someone who could never be with someone like you.

No, no.

You’re good enough. And if he couldn’t see that, even after all these years and giving up on practically everything for him, then that’s his loss.

And it's a loss that would be heavy on your heart. Because this had been here ages long. Just like that shot of tequila was making you feel.

He steps forward, his hand out at his side as he gestures questioningly for a hug with that raise of a brow and that grin you’d loved all these years.

And you fall off, beginning your descent.

You step into his warm arms, wrapping yours around the back of his neck as you close your eyes at the familiarity, ignoring the chill from when you could his arms around your back, your chin resting on his shoulder.

That was one thing about him you also liked, his warmth. His comfort. His way of converting your frown into the brightest smiles you’ve ever smiled within an instant. How his mere presence could make you giddy and happy. Just him, and you'd remember what home felt like.

This was great. This is where you wished you could stay. It was upsetting, knowing he'd never like you the way you'd want him to. But whatever this was, it was good enough. Just the pure thrill of wanting, was enough.

You step back first, smiling up at him when he grins down at you.

The riffs of 'Slow Ride' is what catches your attention first. Then, Hangman steps into the playpen.

You notice the way intimidation subtly hangs from Bradley's face, as it falls flat, the slight narrowing of his eyes.

Yes, Hangman and Rooster never got along together. Bradley tried to be the bigger man first, but Hangman would piss him off in some way that would rock him off his rails, and one day, he just snapped.

"Bradshaw. As I live and breathe." Hangman's tone is natural, as he steps forward, showing off his pearly whites with a crinkle of his lips. Bob, amidst lining up a shot in the game, stands aloof when his cue stick is snatched by the blonde. He stands up, not leaning forward anymore, looking around like a lost puppy, just as Fanboy pats him on the shoulder in reassurance.

You narrow your eyes at Jake, at just how much of an ass he could be. All the damn time. Strike one, Jake. Maybe you'd get to punch him this time after all.

"Hangman. You look," Bradley's eyes glance up and down, the corner of his lips pulled up the slightest, "good."

Jake lines up his shot in what seems like a fraction of a second, and you're sure to roll your eyes.

"Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good."

He makes the shot, without looking down, perfectly sinking three balls in.

"In fact, I'm too good to be true." Jake adds, and that's your cue. You roll your eyes, but not before you catch a glimpse of Bradley looking over at you with an expression that said, 'can you believe this guy?'.

"So," Payback steps in, and for that you're mighty grateful, tired of seeing Rooster and Hangman compare sizes for what seemed like the billionth time, "anybody know what this special detachment is about?"

Your attention diverts, and so does everyone else's. You were glad to have received mail, besides Bradley's usual letters and a few other financial statements, and surprised to realize the stamp was Top Gun's.

The letter was straight to the point, but not very informative, just something along the lines of, 'pack your bags and come be our bitches for the next month'.

But seriously. You remembered what your first detachment letter was like, clear as a crystal, and it held some sort of information. All you new about the current mission, was that there was a chance you'd get to be team leader. And you weren't going to pass up that opportunity.

"No, mission's a mission. They don't confront me." Jake's leaning against the pool table in front of Bradley, meaning you could get a clear whiff of Axe body spray off of him. You try to hold back your grimace. Keyword : try.

"What I wanna know," Jake's eyes meet your's with that godawful cocky smirk he'd made his signature for practically everything, "is who's gonna be team leader?"

And then he looks back at Bradley, his smirk widening even more, "And which one of y'all, has what it takes to follow me."

You let out a scoff, narrowing your eyes and raising your brows at his words.

Just how much farther up his ass was his head?

"Hangman," Bradley replies, "the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave." That cuts it deep. Flashbacks come about and you try hard not to shudder.

Jake's off the table now, stepping further and further towards Bradley, who stood amused just as he neared, "But that's just you, ain't it, Rooster?"

"You're snug on that porch, waiting for just the right moment," Jake'd like to think so, but his eyes flicker towards you for a brief second, before going back to taunt Bradley again, "that never comes."

Bradley keeps his calm, ever the older man amongst the two of them, simply smiling in amusement. Jake leans just the tiniest bit closer to Bradley, not even a crinkle in his smile disappearing, “I love this song.”

And then he backs off, heading off to the bar, leaving everyone grimacing. Literally, everyone.

“Well, he hasn’t changed.” You speak up, watching Jake charm Penny. Back at the Academy, he was just the same. The only difference was, he was your friend. He was Bradley’s friend. At least they wouldn’t snipe at one another then, and simply tolerate each other’s presence. God knows what happened between them suddenly, making them the only rivals amongst your entire class.

“Nope. Sure hasn’t.” Bradley shakes his head just once, watching Jake too. He shakes his head once again, almost like he was slipping out of living the possibility that someday they would have one another’s backs.

Though, you were glad the tension had been cut when Jake’s stride began.

With every step he took, you felt like you could let loose now, and not be alert about Jake and Bradley getting into a cat fight, because, damn, could these both get in a tussle.

Without another word, Bradley’s hand wraps around your wrist, and he begins walking towards the table at the front, dragging you along with him. And you let him, knowing exactly where this was going to go.

If you’d have asked Penny Benjamin who made the most chaos on a coincidentally calm evening, she’d say, Rooster and Karma. Because the way the two of you would sing, it’d entrance the crowd and compel them to practically huddle around the two of you, singing just as loudly.

Yes, the songs would make people go even more crazy for drinks, but Penny was definitely over her ear drums tearing. Though, she was glad to see you both so close, knowing just how much the two of you had been through together, yet you’d stay by each other’s side.

And there was a possibility where you’d gotten drunk drunk and opened your heart out to Penny because she’d lent you her ears to disturb with your problems. She knew just how much you loved Rooster, and she knew the limits to where you’d go for him, and him, for you. It was visible. And it seemed natural.

You’d always be grateful for what you had with him because there was nothing like this.

And, there was nothing like the power of an unrequited love. Yes, okay, it would make tears fall out of your eyes, yes, it would make an agonizing knot in your throat, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Worst part is, you don’t even know how it began. It just happened. And it happened all too fast, and all too deep.

When you reach the piano, Bradley sits down, lending you a smile you swore sparkled underneath the yellow comforting light of the bar. You leant against the piano, a smile naturally covering your face as you watch him fiddle with the piano for the first few seconds. He plays a random melody, one that sends shivers down your spine because you know just how much fun you’ll have tonight, right here, beside him and everyone else.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, approaching from the back was Natasha, beer in her hand and smile on her face, followed by the other boys surrounding the piano by your side.

Natasha knew. From the very beginning. In fact, she was always the one encouraging you to make a move because she was “tired of seeing you make heart eyes at him”.

So, here you were. Right where you wanted to be. Right with whom you yearned to be.

You let the worries and tension knot out of your shoulders for the night, singing in utmost happiness and carelessness for howsoever your voice sounded for once, for howsoever you were with your friends for once.

Bradley just wishes you’d notice the way he looked at you as he sang, “You’re fine, you’re so kind! I’mma tell the world that you’re, mine, mine, mine, mine!”

Because he so wished you were.

[donutdrawsthings]

Do you have any art tips?

I've given it a lot of thought, and here are what my art tips are!

Enjoy yourself! this is a hobby, after all! I've found that drawing from emotion makes it easier to enjoy the art making process, and that emotion can literally be ANY emotion. Sadness, Joy, Rage, Desire,,, they are all great motivators to start drawing and when you're so full of emotion, you might find yourself feeling relieved after a drawing session!

Get Inspired and REPLICATE!

The way I learned how to draw most things is by looking closely at my favourite shows/movies and picking apart what I like about them so much! Make fanart! Redraw one of your favourite scenes! Care very little about what others will think and focus purely on enjoying yourself! Oh and also tracing is a perfectly fine thing to do too. That's a way to train steadying your hand with certain curves!

No art style? no problem!

An art style is really just a word for the way you draw. You've ALREADY got a style! It doesn't need to be eccentric looking to be unique. That being said, you'll find your art style developing naturally as you get more inspired and learn to draw certain things through fanart. What people will look at as Iconically You is really just a big compilation of all the things YOU love and got inspired by, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. It's normal and how it works in professional mediums like film making, too!

Focus on your own progress I see a lot of beginner artists beating themselves up over not yet being able to draw what they envision, and for that my biggest tip is to not see your latest drawing as your last. It's healthy to analyse what you do and don't like about what you've just drawn, but be kind to yourself about it. instead of telling yourself "I can't draw [thing]", try telling yourself "I don't like how I drew [thing], because of [reason]. Next time I'll try it differently". That next time can be immediately after, but don't underestimate the power of a good nap either! Not worrying about it and sleeping on it will get you closer to where you want to go, rather than getting more and more upset with yourself!

Art is knowledge, study it! Being ABLE to draw doesn't make you 21st century Da Vinci, knowing HOW THINGS LOOK and HOW TO MAKE IT are where the real power lies! Look around and really study how things are. The glow from a lit jack-o-lantern, the colour of the fluffy mold that starts growing on it, the way paint starts to chip off the wooden porch, the colours of the sky at any time of day... Look at all of it and ask yourself, how would I go about drawing that? How many layers would I use or what brush do I need? What colour is that on the digital colour wheel of my art programme? And then once you get your gear and draw you can re-evaluate again what you've made and ask yourself if you captured what you saw the way you want it or if you'd do something differently next time!

Don't listen to online content creators Now you might start looking at me funny, because that'd just contradict everything you just read LMAO, but I still think it's an important thing to say. Online there are a lot of artists who tell you to NEVER EVER do something because if you DO draw this way your art is BAD and you're doing it WRONG. However, I believe it's impossible to do art "wrong", because art by its very nature is purely subjective. A point I see in a lot of tutorials is to NEVER EVER shade with black. And while I don't shade with pure black either, shading with black doesn't make your art impossible to love... Invader Zim is an example of that!

As you can see, Invader Zim has an extremely unique style that's loved by many, yet it does feature a shading technique a lot of people say you shouldn't ever do... It is, subjective! And part of the style!

Anyways, sorry this got so long! I hope it was of any help or what you were looking for :'oD

[greeneyed-thestral]

I MET MICHAEL SHEEN. 16/03/24, National Theatre

So, if you've read my post about booking tickets to see Michael, you know all about my what-ifs. But the day was finally here.

I arrived at the National Theatre, followed all the Nye signs and here's the Olivier Theatre. I made my sister buy me the show's programme, hoping I would be able to get it signed.

I find my seat, I'm not in the centre but the stage still feels very close and you can see everything (amphitheatres are always the best).

Lights out. The audience is in religious silence. Can't believe I'm actually here, this is happening.

[skip this part in smaller font, if you want to avoid spoilers] In the words of Staged, he really loses himself in his roles. First of all, it's great to hear him speak in a Welsh accent.

But then we also see him turning back into a child, and you can totally believe he's young and innocent again. His stutter feels so real, his struggle and sadness too. The entire ensamble is great during the classroom scene, where they all help Nye against their bullying teacher (using those big canes to make him look scary really works). Hearing young Nye confessing that at times he thinks he 'shouldn't exist' because of who he is was a gut punch; Michael's delivery of that whole part is incredible, in that moment he really becomes a little boy that allows himself to feel vulnerable and says something dark to a friend. The way he jumps while saying "I can visualise and enunciate!" made me wanna jump too, he was ready to give up and then he found the solution through books, it's the joy and relief you feel when you realise that there is another way and your life is not over.

Now, I've watched musicals all my life and let me tell you that man is meant to be in one. He opened his mouth and all I could see was someone that had been waiting a long time for the occasion to show his talent, truly showstopping. He was so free and happy and confident, singing and dancing spectacularly. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling, we all clapped.

It's clear he means every word he says, and when he points and shouts his political arguments at the audience, those who feel called out must be shaking; I thought 'This is how people in Ancient Greece must have felt everytime they went to the theatre'. His Nye is inspiring, passionate, someone you'd want to follow, he stands up for what he believes in and lets nothing get in his way.

We get to watch him flirt, on all fours, waggling his 'tail'; everytime we think we've seen all he's capable of, he does something like this and surprises us.

But most of all, we see him being scared, first of having to do something, and then of not being able to do enough for all of us. At one point everyone has requests for Nye and I was expecting him to shout "Heal yourselves!" like Jesus in JCS, it totally conveyed what it must have been like to be in his role at the time, overwhelmed with daunting responsibilities.

In general, I appreciated the fact that it wasn't a linear biography, they chose life moments that have universal situations everyone can relate too, like they do in bio-musicals. I loved the staging. The colour palette is so recognisable; the curtains and the beds are used in many different ways so everything is explored at its full potential.

He is on stage basically all the time for more than two hours (sometimes twice a day, can you imagine?). Also barefoot and in his pajamas from start to finish, he looks like a teddy bear you just want to hug and protect.

He bows, looks at Nye's achievements, then leaves the stage.

Standing ovation, applause. I go back to the theatre lobby, I was supposed to wait for my sister, but she's late. Meanwhile, a fan asks me how to get to the Stage Door. I start too fear that I'm going to miss my chance if I keep waiting inside, so I decide to go on my own. After no more than 5 minutes, he's outside with us. Forget Nye, I am living my fever dream. He has just finished his second show of the day and yet he's smiling and listening to each and every one, signing and taking pictures. I know many have said this, but he really is an angel.

My sister arrives, and as soon as I'm sure she has the camera ready, I make my way to him. The two girls next to me who were speaking to him needed a pen and I lent them my sharpie, so I got my chance to look generous in front of him.

And suddently it was my turn. This is as much as my scrambled mind allows me to remember: I tell him I'm Francesca and I'm from Italy, he asks me how long I am going to stay, I confess that I had arrived that morning and just to see him, that I would be leaving already the following morning. I can't even focus while he's signing my programme, I just want to find the right words. I manage to say how I enjoyed seeing his passion, all these different sides of him and how watching him sing and dance has been the highlight of my evening. We take a picture together, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I realise my arm is around the waist of this person I love. I had to thank him again, telling him that he only deserves good things and that we are so lucky to have him. He wishes me a safe trip home, and I melt. I leave and I can't stop trembling. On my way back to the hotel I hold on tight to my signed programme and the sharpie that was in his hands just moments earlier. Only later I will realise that he's also written 'Ciao!', 'love' and 'X', without me asking for it or anything! Seeing him act live was a big gift already, but what followed outside was beyond my dreams. I can't look at the photos without blushing, the way he looks at me in the video and then also strokes my arm for a moment, I mean pinch me now.

The more I think about it, the more I can't believe it happened.

I want to thank everyone that under my first post pushed me and encouraged me to see the pros of doing this, I share this beautiful moment of my life with all of you. <3

[atomicpowered]

So I watched Hazbin. Let the record show that I am not a hater unjustly or unduly. I will put in the effort to fully experience the thing people are dumping on to see if it's legitimate. I went in with as blind a mein as possible given that I am Online and dialed in to various goings on in my swamp. My curiosity finally got the better of me.

I know some of the background of the show and the creator of said show, I have heard rumblings from the edges of my dashes and things passing megafauna-like underneath me. These cries of 'worst fandom ever!!' are pretty overwrought for what, by my eyes, is the pretty standard slew of agitated bees that follows this kind of thing.

Before I get into some thoughts about the show I do know that there was some talk about people not being properly compensated for their work on the newest, hottest, invader zim animated television programme. I have heard various things about what vivziepop (might be spelling this wrong I'm on a fight and bored so I can't check) has done, what fans of this show are capable of blah, blah— I get it. When you've been around the loop of this stuff as long as I have you know what many fandoms and sole operators are capable of. By my metric these examples are all pretty bad. Not the worst but not the best either. Definitely stand out from the other fan based background radiation on websites and in real life.

But I'm gonna talk about only what I've directly seen (the amazon joint and youtube pilot) for both brevity and my sanity.

I sell at conventions for a living, I've done so for years and have also been at that long enough to see swells and ebbs of trends that match up with their digital counterparts. Hazbin is… special. Not often do you see merchants throwing table balance to the winds to have MULTIPLE Hazbin (Helluva thrown in there too they're basically the same thing) monocultures for what they are hawking. I get the drive behind it too, no shade, make your bag, sex sells, but I can't overstate how rare this is! Even during the heyday of Genshin (lessening now) you still had different properties orbiting the cash cow on your display. Nobody just brought one thing and one thing only.

Now, on to what I have to say about the show. I'm sure some of these points have been echoed by a pngtuber with crossed arms but I feel compelled to throw my two bits in.

The show is all together, not good. Not horrific (barring some specific instances), but firmly overwhelmingly mediocre.I watched all of it, including the pilot, and besides occasional drama crossing my dash didn't interact with it much beyond that until now. Now that I have, I am very confident with my pre-watch assertions I made based on spitballing what I saw represented on and off line. I'm good at this kinda thing, you see certain patterns emerge from the data and you can make some accurate generalizations no problem. I frequently withheld a question when I would see groups of 14 year olds in pinstripe suits looking at my prints at weeaboo united or whatever convention I was at that particular weekend. Why are kids watching this show?

I know Why kids are watching the show, Hazbin is made (probably unwittingly) to appeal to kids! This is a neutral statement, I'm not saying it was to entrap kids or anything like that. The kids are a side effect drawn to what Hazbin Is. Not a target.

The appeal comes from a few main points. The characters are all designed like babies' first OCs, they drip little details and playground style power layouts. (My mermaid tail is blue and rainbow and I can shoot lighting and I have a pet sea turtle so obviously it is good or better than your flame covered tail and psychic abilities.) They are all based on a template that is easy to replicate and iterate on with enough play in secondary characteristics to make a bonafide example of some prime Do Not Steal. (Think Sonic, My Little Pony, Homestuck.) This playbook of style is sugar on a kitchen floor to ants.

The characters all say and do stuff with no deeper implication or subtlety, conflicts are raised and finished in minutes if not at least by the end of the episode. They have large gestures, big emotions, little depth, and huge expressions. They are stage acting, and the flat compositions in the storyboarding and directing reflect that. They are tell and almost never show. They walk on the screen and go I'M SAD or I'M MAD with no real subtle work. Yes there's sex, drugs, and alcohol, but, like. Conceptually you easily have characters acting like they're in saturday morning cartoons.

The overacting is great when you're sakuga brained like I am but it is so all the time and in your face that it just ends up feeling like those twitter videos of 60fps interpolated anime openings. (God I fucking hate those things.) Every character is moving and talking and wiggling around so much that it's like parents trying to catch the attention of a crying baby with hastily jingled keys. Even the swearing and the depictions of the more devious acts are so… juvenile. Everything feels like a combination of boys talking in hushed giggles at the back of the bus and what you scribbled in the back of your history notes among the drawings of the best realistic eye you could put out at the time. Like I highly doubt any of the audience knows what 'bolivian marching powder' is or does. And I don't think its main writer does either? Like one of the characters is in high profile porn, like at least make his vice a designer drug? It's like when kids speculate on what it would be like to be white girl wasted with barely trying a sip of Mom's vodka out of the cabinet.

So you got the combo of these character designs which mirror every tumblr sexyman since the bronze age and a very paint by numbers barbie house of characters. Of COURSE it bags kids like fortnight und cola. But like, why are people in charge just letting this rock? Is more my question. Who is letting Timmy get at a new glossary of stuff to yell at his substitute teacher? Don't answer, this is rhetorical. I'm all for letting kids self select but I kinda worry about this one and what it's doing to the teens. I'm sure someone more willing to explore that has said smarter stuff than me. But what I can see is you have the volatile type of person (kid or not) who is attracted to what I just listed grappling with badly handled (fumbled most of the time, let's be honest) adult stuff. This is the recipe in how you get a fandom that acts like this one acts.

My next thoughts concern Concepts and Themes. The ones here of heaven and hell are just kinda skated over as set dressing. In fact everything in the show is more like the plato's allegory of shit to stand on. It's basic on basic. Hell being an alright bunch and heaven being snooty know it alls has been done, demons that are niceys has been done, even interpersonal relationships set with a backdrop of a home for wayward characters has been done. Like again color by numbers isn't BAD! Just because these things have all been done doesn't mean you can't learn from and uplift your own idea with what came before. In fact, when you're having trouble making something a quote always comes to mind.

Wholesale ripping a chunk out of red letter media here: "Now I need to explain that I don’t think that all movies," ((Shows for my use case)) "-should be the same, or conform to the same kind of structure, but it works well in certain kinda movies. So unless you’re the Coen Brothers, David Lynch, Paul Thomas Anderson, Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Hitchcock, Lars Von Trier, David Cronenberg, Gus Van Sant, Quentin Tarantino, John Waters, Wes Anderson, Sam Peckinpah, Terry Gilliam, Martin Scorsese, Werner Herzog, or Jim Jarmusch, you really shouldn’t stray away too far from this kind of formula."

It's clear that this show has its roots in musicals. (Not just in the presence of musical interludes, the talky bits too.) Musicals often are color by numbers stories that expertly perform these fundamentals. They are a perfectly cooked egg. Simple, but a test. If you can't do the basics you cannot be expected to deliver on anything more complicated! It's also obvious that Hazbin's nest was lined with disney musicals specifically. I have my qualms about disney, especially the disney of today, but that's not for right now. Disney by and large knows how to color in said book to the point that it's a formula, and if you can't study this formula to excel at the formulaic you kinda deserve the crit.

You have rules and lore set by your world and you don't follow through with anything, your plots all revolve around introducing the coolest character yet or making your favorites even cooler but not like. Actually. Exemplifying what the hell is going on. I know people here are going to counter that they didn't have time it was only a handful of episodes with no knowledge if they were gonna get more, but so much of the show is donated to bad dialogue that goes nowhere, points and facts that the audience knows that are reiterated half a dozen times for no reason. They had TONS of time.

While I'm on the subject of dialogue, the dialogue is one of the things that is not mediocre but straight up bad. I already listed why above but to cite a specific example of something I haven't touched on, dear god you cannot lampshade your own bad writing by having the characters calling it bad. It is Marvel style spandex is stupid and comics are silly am I right guys 'jokes'. This 'joke' happens at least three different times in vitro and it made me audibly groan every time.

I am not a musical person nor am I musically trained but many of the songs are lyrically poor, abruptly plonked into the narrative, unfitting compositionally or, uh, poorly sung.The cast of VAs is insane, (looking at you David) and also often badly vocally directed. They are trying their best with the script but I'm more talking about how they are mixed. I found it hard to understand what was being said much of the time due to technical failures. Guys like Keith David can phone in a performance and Sell it to me better than some of the other actors putting their foot into it and that juxtaposition is also a form of whiplash that the show excels in. Vaggie is probably the worst offender for not being able to pick up the slack in this regard.

The characters being over and somehow under done lies also in their designs and the style that the show wants. I could talk for days about how much I dislike the sticks with a bunch of junk hanging off of them type of look. Nightmare to animate, no good character variation. I didn't even know what some characters were supposed to BE or represent. Alistor is a deer? Charlie is a faun of some sort? Where? Huh?

Too much red!!!! Too much!!!!! Red backgrounds, red characters, everything is a MESS, this is one of the things that actually gets me mad. There are no values! Everything fades into visual noise, which when you pair it with the animation constantly gesticulating at you and everything being bolted on with spirit halloween leftovers makes a leaf and stick tornado. (Nitpicky as well but pick a line weight and color and stick with it.) When blue or yellow came on screen I would audibly shout in excitement.

Multiple characters have tophats. Stop.

I'm not going to go into what I would do to fix the plot or design documents, I know it's been done to death.

God, where was I, I think I'll just finish this off with thoughts about the characters and then open the floor to comments or questions. I don't mean to make this a proper essay.

Charlie: I really dislike her, she's a weak character that has the IM TELLING HOW IM FEELING AND HOW YOU, THE VIEWER, IS SUPPOSED TO FEEL disease bad. Her design is one of the worst. I don't root for her much! Which is bad because she's the main character and I'm at least supposed to feel for her?

The snake guy: He had an arc. He's probably the most endearing.

Angel dust: the pathos they tried with his story beats is ruined by whipping back and forth between irreverent and WAY too heavy handed. People cried? What? Also the pig showing up for its two appearances to sell irl plushies was bad. His back and forth with other characters is hard to watch, and his capitulation to be better both feels forced and confusing. I don't think they know what to do with him. Why is porn bad in hell.

Husk: hi keith david. Bad design so fucking busy. They scaled him back from the pilot and I still flinch thinking about those tie downs. Why is alcoholism bad in hell.

Tv guy: better episode time than most of the other characters to the point where I suspect multiple writers to have been put in the time out chair

Nifty: Gir redux but with none of the heart

Vaggie: they were going for a wholesome lesbian relationship or toxic codependency and managed to do neither well. She has the weakest vocal performance, the name thing is bad, I thought she was supposed to be based off an owl or bird of prey but apparently not?

Mimzy: why are you even here

Lucifer: design so bad he falls into the background when he should stand out THE MOST. No episode, saying you're depressed and estranged from your daughter isn't an emotive beat you have to Show that by doing things.

There's so much I could say about carmella, the overlords, the other V's, adam, heaven in general, the over-designed incidentals, the exorcists, but I'm TIRED.

Alistor.

Man. This fucking guy.

His ethos is one of the worst in that hes just dripping in conflicting ideas from toe to head. He's based off voodoo? He's the 'coolest' one?!?!? He's word salad. Eldritch, forest, radio, dapper, fox like, the teeth, the staff, the vocal filter, he's a deer????! cannibal chaotic neutral shadow manipulator play pretty. He takes valuable screen time from everyone to blow keyframes and my time in being the 'coolest' most bad ass for real bro made in a lab to clinch a demographic annoyance.

Where do you go when you die in hell? If you died in heaven do you go back there? Nobody tried to crack getting into heaven before? Expediting a culling six months when you do it every year isn't as punitive as it comes off, where are the steaks? Why does charlie care so much about hell? Where are 'her people'? Why does charlie know that heaven wants to quell an uprising? Why don't angels know they can be hurt? Why does Vaggie not know? Why aren't people in hell doing like. Actual for real bad things most of time? You have a whole town of cannibals, something that's pretty rare, but barely anyone on any kind of watch list. Why is Lucifer estranged when he's clearly just awkward and it gets better almost immediately? Why does charlie not know anything about her country despite living there?

Auhhhhgh okay I'm done, I'm done. Like I'm frustrated okay!!!

[crackedpumpkin]

a/n: Damn, I'm really drabblin bros. I'm gonna be so exhausted tomorrow, I guarantee it.

|| Tired Fools || Tadashi Hamada x Reader

“Can you check this for me?” 

You lean over, looking away from the laptop in your hands. You scan the screen, reading the code that Tadashi shows you. You squint, and he notices, shifting the monitor, so you don’t have to crane your neck.

“It looks good so far, but you’re gonna have an error here,” You point out, unsteadily balancing your laptop to poke your finger at the screen. You stumble, and the computer slides out of your grasp as you gasp in horror.

“Woah!” He grabs the laptop, securing it carefully yet tightly as your hand grips his shoulder. You balance yourself, the room practically swaying. You blink, sitting on the chair he pulls up for you.

“Thanks,” You say breathlessly, taking a moment to close your eyes. You groan, lines of code practically imprinted on your eyeballs. Even with your eyes closed, you can still see the bright screen and hear a soft chuckle from the boy beside you.

“It’s your fault, y’know.” You grumble, moving your hand to hit him with your eyes still closed. “If we got home earlier from the theme park, we wouldn’t have had to stay up like this.” Your hand finally connects with something warm – his arm, you realize. You give him a light punch.

“Yeah, but you had so much fun on the roller coasters. Who am I to take you away from that?”

“Shut up,” You mumble, realizing that his voice is husky with exhaustion. You swat his arm, and he responds with a questioning hum. “Take a break, stupid.” You order, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him back to lean against his chair.

He allows himself to be pulled back, and you feel his chair shift as he groans in relief. “I have so many errors.”

“That’s okay; you’re a good programmer. You’ll fix it.”

“Not as good as you are, though.”

“Are you kidding me?” You bark out a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. With your eyes closed, it provides so much relief from the screen you’d been staring at for the past five hours with only two hours of sleep.

“Nah, you’re great. I mean it.”

“Well, you have great hair.”

“You have nice eyes.”

“You have great arms.”

Somehow, your tiredness had turned both of you into rambling fools, neither of you processing the words that left your lips.

“You’re terrible at acting, but it’s cute.”

You pause. “Am I really?”

“What, the acting or the cute thing? Because both are true.”

“Well, you have cute expressions too. Especially when you talk about your brother and aunt. You practically light up, and it’s adorable,” You giggle.

The both of you fall silent, flushed cheeks and goofy smiles as you process the other’s words.

“Should we continue?”

You sense him turning to look at you. Your lips spread into a warm smile, chuckling at the thought of the horror that’s your assignment waiting for you.

“Wanna trade?”

He chuckles, his hand finding yours and giving it a quick squeeze. 

“Sure.”

[devleader]

One simple programming lesson I'd LOVE to help new programmers get right: Stop using inheritance for everything. I don't know what it is, but I feel like it has to be something about how educational content is structured by either: - The formal education system - and/or online learning platforms ... but anecdotally, I have continued to see inheritance get completely overused when developing software. I'm also speaking about this because *I* was a huge offender of this early in my career. I wrote absurd amounts of code that completely abused inheritance. Why the heck do you think I have an entire course on refactoring?! My hunch, and I don't want to upset too many people (just a few), is the following: - People start learning to code - They eventually come across Dont Repeat Yourself (DRY) - They start to see patterns in their code and start over-using DRY because if it looks remotely similar, we might as well refactor it to a common spot! - These developers start learning OOP principles - Inheritance is the one that sticks because we always talk about memorable things like how a car is a vehicle and a cat and dog are animals - People suck at creating composition examples I guess, so nobody remembers to use it??? (The jury is still out on this) But then a discovery is made... One that will shape the next few months or few years of terrible programming practices: Since DRY is the single most important thing evarrrr (please pick up on the sarcasm, I beg you) ANDDD we need a common spot to put that reusable code for easy access... We can put it into the base class! Nice, now any time we want to use that helper method, we can just make sure our class inherits from the base class. Awesome! Oh, now we need to customize it a bit for this new class? No worries, we'll just override that behavior in this class. Perfect! ... after 42 months and 1337 derived classes going up to 69 levels deep in a hierarchy, you realize something unfortunate. Composition was the way. Don't spend the next 42 months refactoring your code -- get a head start and the next time you type "abstract class" or you skip sealing a class, ask yourself "Could I compose this instead?" This rant is brought to you by my receding hairline and the white in my beard. Thanks! ---- 📨 Sign up for my email newsletter! 🗣️ Share with your network!

[y-rhywbeth2]

Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:

Long post.

-

Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.

Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.

So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.

But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.

And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.

And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.

I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?

Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'

-

Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'

She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.

But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.

Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.

-

The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'

-

But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.

OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?

Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...

[kohakhearts]

goh parentified child syndrome. go(h)

my time is here at last. thank you for enabling me <3 apologies for taking months to finish writing this giant post!

welcome to my dissertation on this fucking Dynamic <3

ok! first thing, let's establish our criteria for Parentified Child Syndrome. this is obviously not like, an actual diagnostic Thing, but there are a million and one articles out there for us to look through. so i did the tough work of scouring those to find some Symptoms we can use as anchor points here. a lot of this is split into "emotional" (parents seeking comfort from their children, rather than comforting them) vs. "material" (parents assigning their children responsibilities that are not age-appropriate (e.g. grocery shopping, paying bills, etc.)) needs, but for simplicity i'll just merge them together - because realistically, they often go hand-in-hand. so the primary symptoms we'll work with here will be:

disruptive childhood behaviours (particularly at school)

stress and anxiety

reluctance to participate in play/age-appropriate activities with their peers

difficulty acknowledging and accepting one's feelings

insecure attachment styles

need to feel "in control"

distrustful of others/self-reliant to a fault

absenteeism and poor performance in school

passive communication style

the other obvious prerequesite here is the family dynamic. so let's dissect that one a bit!

goh's family situation isn't actually like...100% clear. but i have analyzed every episode where his family is even mentioned like it's my full-time job and i have no reason to believe his grandmother actually lives with him. so in the scope of this essay, i am assuming that she lives nearby, and most likely has a key to the apartment, but does not live with them.

otherwise, we are given enough context to assume that camille and walker have been busy with work goh's entire life (though i'd choose to believe for my own sanity that in his infancy his mother at least wasn't working...though given the type of job she has, that's actually...kinda hard to say for sure). we can also assume that they've at least been self-employed for the majority of his life. it's clear that they are fairly well-established in the city/in their field by jn, and since goh is supposed to be 10 at this point, it makes sense to me that they've been building that company up pretty much his whole life.

in terms of the work they do, goh tells ash, my dad is a system engineer and my mom is a programmer. they run a company together. granted, we don't see very much of their actual workplace, but what we do see is completely void of other people. as in, camille and walker do all this work BY THEMSELVES.

nothing in the anime otherwise disputes this! if anything, goh's explanations of his parents' lifestyle just reinforces it. he also suggests that during periods of harsh weather and heavy system use, his parents are busier than usual. this implies that they are most busy during holidays. this is actually further implied by the flashback in jn015 where they explicitly say to him that they're sorry for having to work through the holiday. his reaction, being completely unengaged, not even really even acknowledging it, tells us that this is the norm.

however!! he also shows off a special device to horace in jn032 that he says his parents made specifically for him, to help him learn more about mew. this suggests that they must have some amount of free time to dedicate to him...but they show their love for him through material gifts related to their line of work (his computer set-up, too; he tells scorbunny that his parents set it all up for him).

otherwise, we see camille and walker privately share their concerns about goh (a clear awareness that he doesn't have many friends, concern about him being lonely because of them, etc.) but never actually confront goh with their concerns or appear to go out of their ways to do anything about it. i wrote a bit about this and the symbolism of having him catch a cubone of all pokemon in the episode we're introduced to his family here but the tl;dr is that camille and walker demonstrate care for goh to each other but not to him - presumably to compensate for their physical absence, we get the impression he's given a lot of freedom and little to no discipline.

which brings me to the first criterion:

disruptive childhood behaviours (with a side of absenteeism, which presumably contributes to poor performance in school)

goh's school life is obviously inconvienent to the plot progression, so for narrative purposes the writers have him just not go to school. in jn049 we get the explanation that goh had made a promise to their teacher to show up to school for tests...but the weird thing about this scene is that chloe's surprised by it:

since in jn001 and jn002 we see that chloe is goh's only point of contact amongst his schoolmates and that she hand delivers schoolwork to him at her dad's lab, the only way this exchange really makes sense to me is if it's a new arrangement. even the fact that goh makes a point of saying "hey, i followed through, go me" to their teacher here gives that vibe.

so, we can extrapolate from that that...prior to whenever this agreement was made, goh just didn't go to school because he didn't want to. but given how schools operate, we can pretty safely assume his parents are aware of this. and i have strong reason to believe that they have at least been on the receiving end of phone calls from teachers or administrators, because of these lines from jn015:

all things considered, this is a weird assumption to make, especially about your hyper-independent introverted child...unless there's a history of disruptive or unfriendly behaviour to inform that assumption. and based on goh's behaviour in jn001 at professor oak's pokemon camp, i don't think it's so out there to say the pattern probably was there.

goh is actually a super sweet kid towards his parents and has a clear admiration for them both. even in flashbacks, his whole thing is kind of like...he doesn't want to bother them. they fall asleep on family vacation and don't spend time with him? well, that's fine! he'll just find something else to do! in that same episode in the flashback sequence, they pick him up on the side of the road alone in the pouring rain and he doesn't say a word to them. even though he was angry and upset before.

so, yeah. i think it would make a lot of sense if he were well-behaved at home and not so much so at school. but camille and walker, even when they learn about things that happen, don't seem to probe or discipline him. whether because of any combination of giving him leeway out of guilt or of not wanting to encourage him to act out at home, we don't know. but the disconnect obviously exists.

which then contributes to

stress and anxiety, difficulty acknowleding and accepting one's feelings, and passive communication style

goh is socially awkward, yes, and clearly very anxious socially especially early on in jn, but a lot of that seems to come from an inability to express his wants and needs. i think jn003 has some of the most succinct examples of this - ash having to realize he's struggling and to reach down to him when they're climbing the tower in order for him to even accept that he can get (and needs) help getting up, and then later one when he stumbles over his words trying to ask ash to be his friend.

i think another good example is in jn007, after he gets knocked out at the flute cup. passive communication relies a lot on shifts in body language and in, well, passive statements. when ash approaches him to tell him to cheer up, goh doesn't actually really...respond to that. he does this

and then runs off. which he does fairly often, actually, even as late as jn135. it's emotional avoidance 101. literally just run away from the thing that's bothering you. something else we see in jn135 is him backing out of admitting he wants to go on a journey - because he is concerned about ash's reaction (though i think it's a little more complex than that, but i'll circle back to that).

and of course there's jn062, which i wrote a lot about in this post. but the whole thesis of the episode is that goh has learned through his relationships up to this point that it's okay to not understand your feelings but you still have to feel them. and it's actually a really beautiful character development moment for him, but also reinforces the fact that he still doesn't know how to grapple with his own emotions. after finally finding drizzile and explaining how he knew he would find it there, he starts to cry and doesn't know why. but even aside from feeling vulnerable, it's kind of a culmination of this stress he's been carrying with him throughout the whole episode...and the sense of responsibility he feels for driving drizzile away. which is a great segue into

insecure attachment styles and need to feel "in control"

if there's one thing i feel like people sleep on regarding goh's character, it's how much of a mother hen he is. he's obviously very thorough and thoughtful when it comes to looking after his pokemon - as in jn062 where he spends all that time chasing down drizzile after it runs away, even to the point of telling ash and chloe that they should stay behind because it's getting late but that he's going to keep looking - but he's the same way with ash.

off the top of my head, things like buying extra scones because he knew ash would want them, making ash wash his hands after eating ice cream, chastising him about punctuality, you know...very parental kind of things. he actually does it with horace too, when they first meet, by bringing a lunch for them both when he goes back to the forest to meet him again.

anyway, being a Mom Friend is cute and all, but it also REEKS of parentified child. taking on responsibilities that aren't yours to fulfill? yeah. that's a need to feel in control. it's what he's used to! it offers him security!

the other side of this is...chloe. goh's first friend, who he refuses to consider a friend, or let consider him a friend. but, like, she obviously IS his friend. and yet our introduction to them gives us this exchange

goh and chloe have a pretty tense relationship at the beginning of jn, wherein she is clearly trying to help him (by you know. getting his homework for him and shit) and he blows her off in a text message, which she complains is a repeating behaviour. chloe is obviously very loyal to him, even though he doesn't seem to repay the favour. again, there's a big disconnect here.

insecure attachments generally stem from anxiety over potential rejection and/or poor self-esteem cultivated in childhood based on parents’ emotional availability (or lack thereof) to their children. by keeping chloe an arm's distance away, goh keeps himself safe from the dangers of vulnerability, taught to him through childhood encounters with emotionally unavailable parents.

i'm not here to armchair diagnose (ok, who am i kidding, yeah i am), but i think goh's attachment style is anxious-avoidant. his clear avoidance of making friends, the multiple times we see him break off his friendship with ash only to minutes later be like "me and the bestie"...yeah, that's avoidance. but he does crave intimacy, arguably even more than he fears it.

hence why even though he knows ash would want him to journey on his own...he still convinces himself that actually telling ash that would be, as he calls it, a "betrayal of [their] friendship." my theory is that he's not concerned that ash will be upset - he's concerned that ash won't be upset enough. which is why when then ash turns it around on him and says he's going on a journey, goh gets upset and pushes him away. he does the exact same thing with horace when they're younger. just a complete 180 - he wronged me once, so he's the worst and i can't forgive him, ever.

the difference with chloe is that she actually takes care of him more than he takes care of her - which changes the dynamic from "i have to do everything to keep this person in my life, including suppressing my emotions for their sake" to "i cannot express to this person that i have needs and desires because they'll think i'm too much and they won't stick around if i do." which is primarily avoidant, but insecure attachment nonetheless.

this is extrapolation, but i think his relationship with chloe is so different because we are supposed to get the sense that they have a more familial dynamic. so, she's the one person he can't push away from him - but as he learned in his actual family dynamic, he also can't be too close to her. he doesn't want to be smothered; he doesn't want her to feel smothered by him. so they maintain a degree of separation that only begins to go away after her father begins literally housing and feeding him, thus integrating him and ash into their family in some honorary way.

which brings me to the last point, i guess, which is

reluctance to participate in age-appropriate activities with peers and self-reliant to a fault

these are, i think, the traits that jn is most blatantly attempting to better in goh throughout his arc. so i won't spend too long hashing it out, because i think these are things we all know he struggled with!

in flashbacks, we see him alone at school; during the first episode, at professor oak's camp, he is always physically distanced from the other kids and chloe even points out that he's basically doing professor oak's job at one point! he's not on the same level as the other kids and it's clear he doesn't want to be. when he meets horace, we see that it takes him some time to get comfortable enough with him to go explore the forest together and become friends.

he doesn't go to school, but that doesn't mean he isn't learning things - he becomes a very self-directed learner early on, from what he see. he's not just like...rotting in his room playing video games. he's studying and researching. the only times aside from with horace that we see him in a flashback doing something that isn't solitary is with pokemon - and even then, he's like...reciting their pokedex entries. his abra story at the end of jn is precipitated by him saying he was going through his dad's old pokedex (which is a whole other thing - this implies walker used to be a trainer, but neither of goh's parents seem to have pokemon...perhaps they're too busy with work to look after them? a theory for another time, i suppose, but it has undeniably being gnawing at my brain since that episode aired lol).

and of course, there's the fact that in jn062 he tells drizzile he was never comfortable with confiding in his parents or his grandmother...suggesting that he never confided in anyone, because we don't really get the sense from the whole "i don't NEED friends" exchange in jn001 that he considers chloe a reliable confidant, either.

the other place we see his flawed sense of self-reliance, aside from like...everywhere in the first 10 or so episodes, lol (something that is reflected pretty beautifully and symbolically in scorbunny's story, too!), is in project mew. he has to learn how to work in a team - and he clearly hates it. at this point he's found one person to rely on, but that already feels like too much. the raid battle with articuno is the most obvious example of this. he isn't good at being a leader, but he also isn't good at being a follower. because he's only ever been responsible for himself, and he doesn't trust anyone else to know how to direct him, but he also has no clue how to work within the parameters of a team.

i also want to say, as a final note, that i actually think this is all extremely intentional writing. obviously in the west we have a strong capitalism culture too, but the work culture in japan is very toxic (just google "japan work culture" and you can see right away how intense it is lol) and i'm not actually surprised at all that pokemon would make such a direct commentary on that - a lot of japanese kids could probably relate to goh and his emotionally absent, work-obsessed parents! they are clearly pretty well-off, but their dedication to work supercedes matters of home and family, because that's how it's supposed to be. as a result, goh admires them a lot for this dedication - but his arc is primarily about letting go of the "work" part of interacting with pokemon and learning how to have fun and make the most of his experiences. and i think that's a really lovely message for modern pokemon to be sending to kids :')