#I know the “it was all a dream” thing is overdone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aventurineswife · 4 months ago

Note

Aww, no more Yor!Reader? Well, I guess it would have been overdone eventually. 😅

How about I share an idea instead about Reader acting as a lawyer/legal consult for Aventurine? (Bouncing off of my friend’s recent obsession with lawyer characters lol.)

So, Reader is a lawyer studying the laws of various worlds. Their work laptop is full of legal texts and documents, which they use to keep track of information gained and help make sure Aventurine doesn’t step too hard on someone’s toes. coughsunliketopazonbelobogcoughs

Reader is also partially the reason why Aventurine was able to get away with attacking the Astral Express — by taking his and Ratio’s witness accounts of their “meeting” with Sunday and the power of the Order being forced on Aventurine to brainwash him on threat of death within 17 hours. (I know I saw a post pointing out how Sunday basically broke diplomatic immunity by doing this, tho I can’t remember who. 🫠) Who can say for sure that Aventurine threatening to detonate a Stellaron wasn’t the result of (him struggling against) the Order influencing him? Reader can even point out that if the Family tried to go after Aventurine, Sunday’s actions coupled with the Family’s lying about death being impossible in the Dreamscape would be grounds for a counter lawsuit.

Emphasis on Reader partially being why Aventurine got away with his gamble. Even without Reader being Aventurine’s lawyer, the IPC’s got a fuck ton of money. 😅 Reader being there just makes things a lot faster and more convenient.

Reader’s pissed about Aventurine gambling his life like that, tho. 💀

“I TOLD YOU TO BE CAREFUL WHEN DEALING WITH [ACHERON] AND WHATAYA DO?! YOU GET FUCKING HAM-SLICED AND YEETED INTO A BLACK HOLE!!!!! 💢💢💢”

“Objection! Gambling with Your Life is Not a Legal Strategy!”

Summary: You find yourself grappling with the aftermath of Aventurine’s latest reckless escapade—one involving ham-slicing, black holes, and intergalactic legal battles. As his ever-resourceful and exasperated legal advisor, you’re left to clean up the mess while Aventurine, the ever-smug gambler and IPC executive, teases you with his charm. Beneath the banter, a glimpse of sincerity from Aventurine leaves you questioning whether there’s more to him than his reckless bravado.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Crackfic, Lawyer!Reader, Dubious Morality, Fluff and Angst, Overworked (and probably underpaid or not) Reader, Banter and Wit, Slow-Burn Romance (implied), Reader Yelling at Aventurine (deserved tbh).

Warnings: Mild language (Reader vents a lot), Legal jargon overload, Brief mentions of violence and manipulation, Reader and Aventurine arguing, Crack-level absurdity in legal scenarios, Aventurine's traumatic backstory hinted at but not deeply explored.

A/N: Thank you for your understanding 🙏💖 and I hope you like this! This may be a bit ooc and I mostly have forgotten a lot of things so yeah🧍‍♀️

You glared at Aventurine from behind your laptop, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed out yet another damage control memo. The smug blond executive lounged across from you in his plush office chair, one leg draped lazily over the armrest. His perpetual grin was as infuriating as ever, even with fresh bandages peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

"Really, darling," he drawled, twirling his peacock-feather earring, "I think you're overreacting. Things turned out splendidly, didn’t they? I'm still here, the Stellaron didn’t detonate, and Sunday's little 'dream empire' has a massive PR disaster on their hands. All thanks to your impeccable legal wizardry, might I add."

You slammed your laptop shut with enough force to make him flinch. "Splendidly?! You were HAM-SLICED, Aventurine. HAM. SLICED. And then YEETED INTO A BLACK HOLE! Do you even comprehend how many laws of physics, ethics, and basic sanity you violated in a single day?"

He chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But you saved me, didn’t you? My charming legal champion, swooping in with airtight arguments and enough loopholes to make the Family’s lawyers cry."

"Don’t you dare flatter me right now." You jabbed a finger at him, your other hand pointing to the stack of legal briefs on your desk. "Do you know how hard it is to defend you when you keep pulling stunts like that? I had to argue in front of three intergalactic tribunals that Sunday's Dreamscape Order literally brainwashed you into threatening a Stellaron detonation!"

Aventurine leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And you did it flawlessly. Honestly, I should hire you full-time. Leave that dusty legal research behind and become my personal strategist. Think of the fun we’d have!"

"Fun?" you repeated, incredulous. "FUN?! Watching you gamble your life away every other Tuesday isn’t my idea of fun, Kakavasha."

His grin faltered for the briefest moment at the mention of his real name, but he recovered quickly, standing and striding over to your desk. "You know I can’t resist a good gamble," he said softly, his voice unusually earnest. "It’s who I am. But having you there… knowing you’ve got my back? That’s the only reason I can keep playing the game."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity. "That’s… disturbingly sweet," you muttered. "But it doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re reckless, irresponsible, and—"

"Charming?" he offered with a wink.

"Infuriating," you finished, swatting his hand away as he tried to steal one of your pens. "Now sit down and let me finish drafting this counter-lawsuit. If Sunday or the Family tries to come after you again, I want them buried so deep in legal hell they’ll be begging for the black hole treatment."

Aventurine laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that made your chest tighten in a way you refused to examine. "You’re one of a kind, [Name]. I don’t deserve you, but I’m keeping you anyway."

"You don’t have me," you shot back, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. "I’m just here to make sure you don’t get sued—or sliced—again."

"Of course," he said smoothly, settling back into his chair with a self-satisfied smirk. "But I’ll win you over eventually. It’s only a matter of time."

You rolled your eyes and reopened your laptop, trying to focus on your work. But as you typed out another legal argument to shield Aventurine from his latest bout of insanity, you couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

Maybe he wasn’t entirely unbearable.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #crack fic #lawyer reader #dubious morality #fluff and angst #overworked reader #banter and wit #slow burn romance

202 notes · View notes

artist-issues · 5 months ago

Note

Sounds like Moana 2 felt like the rushed tv movie it was supposed to be.

THIS IS THE MOANA 2 CRITIQUE POST

I'm tired of excusing things with the word "rushed." If you have less time to produce, you should simplify what you're trying to say. That way, all your small amount of time can be spent on carefully building the best way to say it. Moana 2 felt very unfocused. It felt like it was trying to say:

"You Can’t Survive in Isolation" (but like why not? why do they need their neighboring islands? Don’t make up a reason—tell me the reason the movie showed you.)

"There's Always Another Way” (what? As opposed to what? One way? What One Way was Moana demonstrably sticking to before the not-really-villainess sang her song? Wasn’t finding that One Way ((“learning where to go by remembering who you are/where you’ve been”)) the whole point of the first movie? Now we’re throwing that out the window?)

"Together But a Little Different" ("Different" as in 'In-New-Circumstances' not "Different" as in 'We’re-Different-So-It’s-Hard-to-Relate-to-One-Another,’ which would've been the better, more cohesive sense of ‘Different’.)

“Something-Something Stories Are Important” (literally they just substitute the phrase “we’ll die” with “our story will end.” No mention of why that’s bad, or what makes a story a story, no reason why stories are important, or what for, just throwing the word “story” around vaguely.)

And none of those "themes" I listed just now had a lot of work put into them. That’s it, in a nutshell. But I can flesh-out my argument for those, and present what I think they could’ve easily done differently, if they’d just picked one and worked hard to make it simply good. SPOILERS BELOW.

“You Can’t Survive in Isolation”

We're told in a quick vision that Moana's people will die if they stay in isolation—but there's no showing us that.

In fact, what we've been shown is that they're thriving, they're fine by themselves. They were in the first movie. They are at the beginning of the second.

So we're not convinced that they need what the whole adventure is supposedly about. Compare that to the first movie! Totally doesn't measure up to the storytelling quality!

In the first movie, the whole first act sets up the idea of darkness reaching through the ocean from Tefiti's missing heart, killing everything. That’s especially bad for Moana’s people. We know that because we’re shown how Moana's people are so deeply connected to the ecosystem of their island, and how every part of it is needed for their way of life to continue—then were also shown that Moana has a deep, personal longing to leave the island. There’s a real connection to home and an urgent need to leave it, and that creates really good emotional tension.

So by the time we're shown (not told in one scene, or through snatches of overdone dialogue, but shown) how the darkness will destroy everything if she doesn't go, we really believe it. We have lots of reasons to empathize with and believe in Moana’s reason for going on this mission. We also feel for her having to make the big decision; we’ve been shown that she’s trying to live up to her responsibilities, and leaving the island would seem like a dismissal of those responsibilities, but we can also see how doing nothing and staying actually would be a dismissal. We feel that tension because they showed us several believable reasons to feel it.

But when Moana is singing “Beyond,” which is supposedly about her conflicting feelings about leaving, and the need to go? I’m just bored. Not emotionally invested. I just saw her going back-and-forth, leaving and coming back, leaving and coming back, one song ago, in “We’re Back.” And everything was fine during that song. Leaving-And-Coming-Back is the dream she’s been living as a voyager. So why is she suddenly convinced it’s a hard decision to…leave-and-plan-to-come-back?

“Because the last voyager died doing this mission she’s about to go on! She might die too!” Okay but all you did was tell me that. You didn’t show me Moana nearly-dying (like she did the first time she tried to cross the reef, or the first time she tried to tackle Te Ka on her own) and then realizing, “gee, oh no, I could die this time,” and then having to make a renewed decision to go anyway. You didn’t put work in, so I don’t believe it.

But the emotion Moana is feeling about leaving is also undercut, like I said, because there doesn’t seem to be a need for her to leave. All they did was tell me that Motunui is in trouble if it stays isolated. But no proof. They were fine isolated from other islands in Moana 1. They have been fine up until now in Moana 2. One random vision of an empty pavilion for three seconds isn’t going to make me forget that and believe that continued isolation will do anything negative to them.

And another thing, what does “uniting with other islands” even mean?” Why would it be such a good thing?

Nobody mentions trade. Nobody mentions learning from one another, or demonstrates learning from one another. Honestly, having Kele teach Moana or Moni or the Kakamora, an actual other-islander, about farming would’ve been a great demonstration of “why we need to meet new people and get out more.”

Having Kele LEARN TO SWIM would have been a SLOW ONE DOWN THE MIDDLE.

But nooo. They just half-bake suggest the idea that the old man doesn’t like leaving his comfort zone, but then never let one of the others have a real conversation with him about why he needs to learn new things from new people. NEVER. It’s just “bouncy vague song, almost-jump-in-the-water-under-coercion BUT NEVER ACTUALLY DO IT, banter and one liners” for the rest of the movie! (And don’t tell me Kele “learning to speak Kakamora” was an example of him “getting out of his comfort zone.” No. Kele never demonstrated a lack of desire to meet and learn new things from strangers. He demonstrated a hatred of fun and the ocean. All the others could also understand the Kakamora literally whenever they needed to, so that wasn’t a special-character-arc for Kele.)

Even though, my point is, they could’ve easily had a character arc for Kele. And that would’ve had something to do with “learn new things from new people, or die stagnant and stuck in your ways,” look, see, a mini-object-lesson in one character’s journey about the theme of the movie. But noooo

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Moni. Have him be convinced that doing things the “traditional Motunui Wayfinding Way” on this, his first adventure, is the ONLY way to do things. But he’s not good at it, no matter how much head-knowledge he has. And then the Kakamora (or literally any non-Motunui-character) could’ve shown him a newly-developed style for him to learn and grow.

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Loto. But nope. She just has a really poorly-done, poorly-written, poorly-performed snippet of a song where she mentions how… “perfection is a myth, the journey is just failing, learning, then death, no destination, ever.” But that ridiculous, absolutely absurd worldview is not portrayed as something she’s wrong about or needs to grow out of. It’s portrayed as a good, quirky, revolutionary thing.

But that’s not the same thing as portraying the value I’m describing. Loto just sings about it and invents-and-reinvents canoes. She does not learn how to make canoes from outsiders. She doesn’t learn anything from anybody. She is portrayed as a solitary genius with her own ideas who’s never once shown to be wrong about anything in the whole movie, and everything she tries works. She never messes up or makes a mistake, for all her singing about it. So she never actually “falls on her face, then gets up and learns.” Even though learning from others would be the literal only way for her character to portray the idea of this vague theme they throw out there, “You Can’t Survive in Isolation.”

The point is: there is no reason, in-movie, SHOWN, for the audience to believe that Moana should “re-unite the islands.” There’s no believable demonstration of why that would be a good thing, and no believable demonstration of why not doing it would be a bad thing.

So then why do we care if she risks her life and Maui’s life to re-unite the islands? For a bunch of nameless nobody background characters to show up for a five-second afterparty on Motunui at the end? Ridiculous.

Moving on.

“There’s Always Another Way”

So BUMP ALL THAT, I GUESS.

Matangi, everybody’s Cherished Hope for a New Villain, sings a song and it’s about “get lost, there is no one way, there’s always a different way.”

Fine. Cool. Whatever. The whole point of the first movie was that there’s this symbolic, ancient, WAY of sailing and living your life bravely. And Moana doesn’t know what that One WAY is because her tribe had forgotten it, so she has to learn it. It’s cool, because you navigate by looking at where you’ve been, to see where you’re going. It’s the whole “remember who you are in order to face life’s challenges, not hide from them.” That’s “the Way.” But whatever. Dump that down the toilet, new movie. You know why? Because everybody’s obsessed with “There’s No One Truth,” and “There Is No Right and Wrong,” and “Let’s Experience Things Just to Experience Them, the Journey is the Destination Because We’re not Going Anywhere!” Blah blah blah ridiculous inane sewage slop.

BUT whatever, fine, IF you mean it in a “There’s Lot’s of Ways to Solve Most Problems, Try Try Again,” sense, that’s okay. That’s true for most problems (not all, but most, certainly there are more than one ways to sail.) Sure. that message, if that’s what they mean, is fine. That’s the sense in which Moana takes it, at least, when she dives down to touch the Core Island and break the curse instead of it rising.

But you know what? Yeah. They don’t flesh it out. They don’t take time to show that that’s what’s happening. Moana doesn’t try to teach her new crew how to sail, and they suck at it, but if she lets them do it their own way or whatever, then they work—and she learns there’s “more than one way.” That doesn’t happen.

The Kakamora that joins their team doesn’t solve all his problems with blow darts, or violence, or whatever—and then Moana, or the kindhearted Moni, or the peaceful Kele, tells him, “no, there’s another way, you don’t always have to do things your violent way.” That doesn’t happen.

Loto has one moment where she applies the way she was already living according-to, from the moment we meet her, not a NEW way, to the canoe so that the gang can out-sail magical waterspouts. And it works for like twenty seconds, is played like a great triumph, before they all get smashed into the ocean anyway.

Kele, again, would’ve been a great example of “learn to do things in a different way, or problem-solve by try-trying again.” Because he’s old and they set him up as hating life for no reason and not wanting to do new things. But they didn’t do anything with him.

And guess what else—at the end—when Moana has her own demigod powers, and her own magical-arm-tattoo ripped off from Tears of the Kingdom—guess what her magic power is?

To stick her oar in the water, and light up one current or “path” for the boat to take to a new destination.

A Path. ONE SINGULAR SOLITARY WAY.

Not “a new way.” Not “all possible ways.” Not “multiple ways.” Not even two ways. One. Even though the big lesson she sacrificed her life for, even though the one and only song Matangi got to sing, was about how “there’s always another way.”

WHILE they’re singing a reprise of, “We Know THE Way.”

It’s like being in a conversation with someone who starts a sentence and then forgets what they were saying halfway through, and winds up saying worse than nothing.

“Together, But a Little Different”

Like I said, if you told me that the Main Point of the movie (not one of many vague ideas, but the Main Point) was “Together, But a Little Different,” I immediately would’ve said:

“Oh, so it’s about having to adjust to long-distance relationships. Maybe even death.” Or, maybe, because I saw the trailers, I’d go, “Oh, so it’s about keeping what makes us unique, but uniting when we need to, in spite of our differences. ‘Together, But a Little Different.’”

No. It’s not about any of that. It’s just a phrase the Grandma’s Ghost says whenever she hugs Moana to remind her that she’s still “with her.” She’s still with her; she just glows and can shapeshift into a manta ray now! That has tons of application for real life. 🙄

It’s supposed to be her words of comfort to pass on to Moana, who can then pass it on to the people in her island, so they know that she won’t “ever really leave them.” But like. Then why should I care that she’s leaving them? Why should that be sad? If there’s no sacrifice in being apart, in leaving for the adventure, then the adventure keeps feeling low-stakes and boring and kind of pointless.

If you tilt your head and squint, it’s also maybe-applying to Moana’s pointless ugly annoying Little Sister character, Simea. Simea is in the movie so that someone can be immature for three seconds about how Moana’s always gone from home. And I do mean exactly three seconds, that’s all the emotional drama we get, and it’s not built up to either. She says, “Never come back? -sniff sniffle- I don’t want you to gooo!” And then runs away and then Moana takes a break from singing the next day to briefly explain to Simea about how she can pass messages through the ocean. Then she’s fine.

But the way this theme is thrown around, you think it would mean, “Moana Has to Go Away Sometimes, But if You Remember Her She Never Leaves You.”

But seriously. Again I say to you, who cares? We know Moana is coming back. We know that. Nobody in the audience seriously believes she’s never coming back when she leaves for this adventure. If we did, maybe we’d care that Simea cares. But we don’t.

Even when Moana “dies,” and it’s the perfect time to be like, “seeee, what we feeeared has happened, she’s dead, she can never go home to Simea!” THERE IS NO FOLLOW-THROUGH. There’s not even a cut to Simea back on Motonui, feeling through the ocean or the Force or whatever movie mumbo-jumbo that her sister is gone. And there is not even a deadline, in the movie, for Moana to accomplish this mission, so it’s not like she could be running late and we could get some scenes of Moana’s family mourning. Simea having to do something, take some big step, that show’s she’s willing to go on even if she can’t be with Moana anymore because she believed Moana about how she’s always with her—something like that.

My point is, Simea has no real point, so she doesn’t add to this “Together, But Different.” idea at all. And we already know that it doesn’t mean, “overcome our differences” from what I said in the first Theme.

But what they could have done? They COULD have gone whole-hog and MADE MOANA A BELIEVABLE DEMIGOD. Instead of a vague joke about tattoos that leaves the question open-ended, a pointless and theme-breaking display of shiny superpowers, and no other change to the status quo—

—they could’ve shown that there are consequences to that action—maybe she’s a Demigod of Navigation, or something like that, and the condition is, she can sail around connecting islands, but she can never stay on one too long. So she’ll never be able to live with Simea and her parents again on Motunui, but it’s the price she has to pay to connect the islands. Then she’d have to show Simea how they can still be “Together, Just a Little Different.”

Or someone could’ve gotten hurt or disabled, giving off the idea that even though everything is “different,” they can still be “together.”

Maui could’ve died and passed his fishhook powers, AND MINI MAUI, on to Moni or Moana. “Together, but different.”

Nothing, nothing at all like that happens. It’s just a pretty phrase that could’ve meant something, but any meaning it actually has hamstrings the whole emotional weight of the story instead of fueling it.

“Something-Something Stories Are Important”

The thing here is. I already said it. You can’t just say words and expect them to be impactful, in a story. You’re supposed to show what they mean and why they’re true, and THAT’S what creates an impact.

So when you’re talking about “stories” in a story, you definitely should not have nothing to say.

And I can feel it. I’ve seen none of the promotional material, I don’t watch the interviews, I haven’t checked BuzzFeed or ScreenRant or the Disney Youtube page in a while, but I can feel it.

I can feel them trying to say, “Something Something, ‘Storytelling’ is a big part of Pacific Islander Culture!” I can imagine the headlines. “[Actor or Disney Exec Name Here] Invites You to Celebrate Your Story with Pacific Islander Heritage Month!” They’re so into “culture as a marketing tool” these days.

But they say it so lazily. Just repeating the word “story” over and over in the movie doesn’t pay tribute to how important “stories” are to Pacific Islanders. Or to anybody.

You know what makes stories impactful? They point at truth, when the darkness and misunderstandings and evil of the world threaten to distract you or hide the truth. That’s what makes stories impactful. I’m sure Pacific Islanders use stories in that way—to pass on what they believe to be true, in a way that can be retold and remembered.

So MAKE THAT THE THEME OF YOUR MOVIE. Instead of just having Moana replace “Nalo wants to kill us” with “Nalo wants to end our story” for Empty Effect—instead of having Grandma say something about “your e

Okay okay.

Nalo is a silly, lazy villain. He is clearly a Thanos rip-off in design and introduction in a literal post-credits scene, and his most-present form, in the movie, is just a big ocean thunderstorm. But the laziest thing about him is that he’s the Conflict that everyone is trying to rise up and overcome, and the whole reason he sunk the Island was “He gets power from humans being divided.”

That’s never explained. It’s never shown at all why he gets power from the vague “humans are divided” thing. He has no scenes. He has no interactions with other characters (till the end-credits scene.) A range of his power, like “here’s what it looks like when the humans are divided—oh, now here’s how much less-powerful he is when they’re together!” is never shown. So. No consequences if the heroes fail, no change to the status-quo, villain-wise, when they win.

If Nalo wanted to end their stories, though, that would be another thing.

Stories are meant to be told. They’re for the benefit of others. So what they should’ve done is made the secret key of Nalo’s power hidden. Unknown. Nobody knows how to beat him. And he’s not sinking some unfindable island in another dimension. He’s just devouring the resources of the weather with his ever-more-powerful storms, (kind of like the darkness leaking through the ocean from the first movie) and nobody can stop him.

But that’s because each island, around Oceania, has clues to how to beat him. Clues in their stories. But they can only sail so far from what they know before his storms kill them. So he’s literally making them weaker by using his power to keep them apart, and making himself stronger by defending his weakness. Now they can’t Wayfind to each other, and learn one another’s cultural advancements or stories or beauties, because Nalo is powerful enough to make storms that rip their boats apart. But if they could learn from one another’s stories about the things their ancestors used against him, they could get rid of him.

That’s what they should’ve done. Shown why Nalo was a threat and how the Main Theme was the key to overcoming that threat.

They did not do that.

They made stories just a hot button word to be thrown around with no impact. In a story.

The point of this post is that Moana 2 had a lot of potentially-good points, and it made none of them, so it was totally unsatisfying. If it had just focused on one, the other little benefits they were trying to fit in could’ve been mentioned more naturally.

The way that Beauty & the Beast is all about ONE theme: “True Love is Self-Sacrificial.” But because of the tools it uses to tell that story—a beast that it would take a lot of self-sacrifice to be stuck with forever—you get little side-themes thrown in, supporting and draping decoratively over the ONE theme: “Beauty is Found Within, So Don’t Be Deceived By Appearances,” etc.

Moana 2 should’ve just picked the Story One, and it could’ve had that theme, and it’s cultural-nod cake, and it’s unifying-effect cake, and EATEN IT TOO.

And we could’ve eaten it. And WE could’ve enjoyed it! But no. Money money money lazy lazy lazy.

230 notes · View notes

mikeysbabygirl · 2 years ago

Text

𝑻𝒐𝒌𝒚𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝒄'𝒔

Warning : you read it pretty well. NSFW. Which means minors do not INTERRACT.

Ft : Rindou, inupi

𝙍𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙪 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙞 :

Perfect boyfriend, right ?

You'll never run out of playlists to listen to with Rindou as boyfriend.

Cold ? He's got about ten hoodies that he likes seeing on you, hanging lose on your thighs, would spray them of his own fragrance after washing them just to know you have his perfume on you wherever you are.

I'm getting at the main point which is...

The jealousy of this man is vice.

As you know, Rindou is a man of few words. Your boyfriend would never tell you straight forward that he is jealous, or have a healthy, honest conversation with you.

He would rather...

Why did he introduced you to Haruchiyo at first ? He should have known that guy would always go out of his ways to make him mad. Just like he was doing now, brushing his lips every now and then against your cheeks as he tells you jokes that Rindou thinks really do not deserve such overdone laughs from you.

The uncomfortable feeling makes his chest tingle, yet Rindou would rather die than admit it to you. But don't you think he would forget, this guy is like a ticking clock, registering every little thing you do for the right time.

In the mean time, you would never get to see Haruchiyo again. Nor any other Tenjiku member.

Rindou really thinks he loves you. Though he still holds that grudge, he can't help but driving you home from school every evening, can't help but think about you randomly during the day, or at night when he's fucking that fist on a pretty nude from you.

But he's registering, and he secretly hoped you would not make any other "mistake", but you do.

You were having so much fun tonight, and if Rindou was anyone else, he would have felt guilty.

But he is Rindou fucking Haitani, and he warned you. These days, Tokyo, at night was not one of the safest places, Kanto Manji was having some troubles with an opponent gang. Would you have been any other girl he dated, he wouldn't have cared. But again, you're so more than that.

He thinks you're so pretty, so eyecatchy. As always, your eyes are the shiniest, and when you spot him from the other end of the club, making his way toward where you're dancing with your friends, they widen the slightest.

He is not the type to embarrass you in front of your friends or anything, believe me.

Close your eyes, imagine this.

The crowd, the dancing bodies, and everything disappears as soon as his lips brush against your cheeks. His blonde locks tickle your neck, and his hands too gently lays on the small of your back. Rindou's fragrance invades your nostrils as much as his deep voice does with your ear.

-" have it your way, love. 'm just gonna sit here and wait for ya. Just be sure you're ready for whatever I got for you. "

Then, just as if it was a dream, his touch flies away, as much as his perfume which lingered a little longer behind him, reminding you just how fucked up you are.

From the other end of the club, your boyfriend looks... Devilishly handsome, first buttons of his white shirt are undone, hair slightly messy, you could almost see his bloodshot eyes from afar watching every move you make. At some point, you're pretty sure you've seen those pretty lips smirk.

This is where I'm getting at, my next main point.

The most important thing I could say as a nsfw fact about Rindou, is his relentless dominance.

He is, the perfect boyfriend from outside. The most protective, caring lover you could ever dream of.

Perfect boyfriend, has his hands around your neck, his tie wrapped tightly around your wrists, that purple gaze usually soft for you looks like it could kill you right now.

-" I'm sorry- Rin', move please, I'm so... So, so fucking sorry, just move " moving your core to chase some friction doesn't even work, he's hell bent on making you cockwarm him all the night, watching you slightly struggling to breath with his hand on your throat.

Usually, he is a man of few words mainly because he is a good listener, especially when you are talking. But tonight, he doesn't even care to hear a word you're saying. He dives deep in the feeling of your pussy wrapped up around him, an expressionless face while he presses kisses on every damn inch of your face and neck.

You both know that these kiss also aren't meant for reassuring, just because he can't seem to get enough of you.

The cold metal of his rings tightens slightly around your throat, having your eyes widening, a groan leaves his mouth so much your doe eyes make his cock throb.

-" Love the way you're taking me. Got me goddamn obsessed. "

Just because you're his own little addiction, just because your walls clench tighter around him at his words, he rolls his hips the slightest bit, making your eyes roll back in your head.

-" You look just as good as a Haitani's wife, laying all pretty under daddy, hugging my dick like my lil pillow princess ".

Because that is what he had wanted to make you, and no matter how independent you are, there is no other way being around Rindou. He lived to mold you into his perfect girl, no way of taking the lead, a simple sharp glance from him makes your heart drop.

Best Tenjiku boyfriend, they say. Yes, he is. So caring, always so much...

And the smirks, small laughs from that pretty face seeing the pain mixing with pleasure on your face are the proof. The perfect, most sadistic boyfriend. Giving a sharp, rough thrust inside you so suddenly that it had you crying his name, balls rubbing against your abused clit.

-" cry all you want " he crooked an eyebrow. "Your screams only got me wanna ruin this pussy. Ain't it the best way to make sure my baby's gonna behave ?"

-" Hm ? Say, love ?"

-" What a man gotta do to protect his best fucking girl, nah ?"

𝑰𝒏𝒖𝒊 𝑺𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒖 :

What a sweet guy, he is sugar coated, honey dripping.

You two could have met after a kinda hard time of your life, you were lacking a lot of trust in people in general and particularly in men.

But Seishu was so soft with you, so careful and fair-play that you ended up trusting him with your life, going around everywhere calling him your...

Your best friend.

Maybe he hadn't been perfectly fair-play into that last one... But he swears he had wanted to be your best friend, at a time.

It was just about how your hands moved around your face as you talked with excitement, about your teeth flashing and eyes sparkling with every smile you reserved only for him. It was about your scent lingering in his t-shirts after hours of hugging him from behind on night rides on his bike, the scent he never truly wanted to wash.

And soon, he started noticing his eagerness to have his hands lingering on you ( what was honestly foreign for Seishu), began feeling the need to find hidden meanings in the books you recommended him, and being even more protective toward you than usual.

Now Seishu would never disrespect you, or your will. If you wanted him as a best friend, then he would take what you had to give him. He would rather suffer that way than lose you at all, believe me, for someone who experienced loneliness, he would rather not go through your absence.

And so it goes, the play starts, he puts the mask, some make up on the ugly unwanted feelings, carries your shopping bags for you, helps you chose your outfit of the day, listen to all your stories about you how much of a loser your ex was, and kisses your cheek goodbye right before turning his back, dropping the mask, and untying his lacerated heart.

But deep inside, Seishu Inui is not as sugar coated as you think he is. Seishu Inui wished he was as innocent, honest with you as you thought he was, but he was not, and the first time you discovered it was...

-" You're my best friend, Sei. It's pouring outside, no need to argue, no bike. you're staying the night. "

It's too late now, you fell asleep, and he should've known, not even a king size bed could've prevented this from happening.

Your ( his) shirt was riding your hips, the covers sliding lower, the cold weather pushed you closer to his heat radiating body. A sigh escaped your lips, just as a beat escaped from his heart as you trapped his leg between your thighs, unconsciously laying your head on his arm.

Picture this, Seishu's blonde hair sprayed on your pillows, his flushed face, sleepy eyes, not moving an inch, frozen.

Or maybe just an inch, just to get into a more comfortable position-

But the friction his leg brought between your thighs had you knitting your eyebrows, a small gasp leaving your lips, something to awaken few things in Seishu.

As the respectful man he is, Seishu tries pushing your thighs away, but that only adds to that friction. And now he has you in your sleep, unconsciously rubbing yourself against him, he thinks he lost it.

Your t-shirts hangs on your waist now, Seishu hates the way his abdomen contracts seeing your bare lower half. And you're wearing nothing but your cute white panties, thus making him feel every move of your clit against his thigh.

He hates himself, and you would probably hate him too, but he swore he saw your eyelashes fluttering at some time, as you desperately chased more friction, and that convinced him to bounce his thigh harder against your clothed cunt.

-" Fuck... " He swears he's gonna stop, but he freezes the moment he hears a broken whisper.

-" Sei- ?"

Your interrogating eyes feel like a stab in the chest, Seishu would bend the knee, apologize until the end of the world, but-

But it seems your little dry humping made you unleash all of the restraints, you roll on your side and find yourself on top of him, legs on each side of his waist.

Seishu's just so pretty, mouth agape, the blue of his eyes is a meer ring around those pupils dilated from pleasure, you think he's gonna push you away. But some god must have been generous enough to give him that chance, he'd be damned to let it go. His hands find your bare hips.

-" You sure 'bout this ? " He hesitantly whispers, though his dick throbs crazy in his sweatpants, he would never neglect your needs. " Just a word, pretty girl. Just a word and I'm giving you all of my fucking love. "

From now on, Seishu solely believed that good things come to those who wait for it. Since after months and months of running from the shadow of his feelings for you, now his eyes were in bliss, swallowing every inch of you sinking on every inch of his hard cock.

Now now, Inui is a gentleman, a respectful, harmless guy.

But with your walls so tightly wrapped around him, he can't help but buckle his hips harder to meet your thrusts, can't help but grab your tits, kneading the flesh in his hands until he had you crying from pleasure and pain. Yes, Seishu is such a sweet guy, he solely believes this behavior is only what months of frustration have made of him.

And his best friend, Kokonoi had already told you once, though you didn't believed it " Seishu can be blunt sometimes ". Another thing you were yet to discover.

Those pretty lips that usually talked so nicely to you, those words that comforted you through your worst times seemed to get trapped behind the pleasure ravaging his lower half, because-

-" gotta slightest idea what you do to me ?" He thrusts his hips once again, circularly, giving particular attention to your clit. " How many times your slutty little skirts made my cock hard ?"

It drives him crazy, how your eyes widen innocently at his statement, meanwhile your pussy clenches in such a sultry around him. Intoxicating. You never knew you'd like those dirty words from the softest man you've known.

-" Pretty girl got me fucking my fist nearly every night. Shit- can feel you close, you like it dontcha ? My gorgeous baby, that's everything you truly ever wanted, right ? Having me fucking obsessed ? Pushing me to my damn limits ? Uh-"

But Seishu Inui is a dirty talker, behind closed doors, Seishu Inui is a hard groper, a carelessly harsh fucker, a sweet lover. Seishu Inui is the perfect mix.

Does anyone even remember who I am ?

Yeah I'm back, I guess ?

Hi everyone 🫶 Hope y'all doing fine and all, wassup ?

#tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers spoilers #bonten x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers angst #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x y/n #haitani rindou #haitani brothers #seishu inui #seishu inui x reader #inui x you #inui x reader #tr inui

2K notes · View notes

eepwriting · 1 year ago

Note

hiii can i request submissive vessel worshipping the reader pls 🫶🏻

Subby Vessel Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw sandwiched between sweetness

Hiii! Thank you for the request 🤍 I love subby sweet vessel!! Decided to do a list format to switch things up a little.

!! mdni !!

✧༝┉˚ MASTERLIST ˚┉༝✧

Join my 🏷️ taglist here ♡

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

✶ This man just loves you.

✶ Will call and text you when he’s away, rambling about how much his heart aches with how much he misses you.

✶ Constantly talks about you to whoever will listen. A bright smile on his face as he gushes about you.

✶ When you’re together though…oh boy.

✶ Man cannot keep his hands off you. Always has to be touching you in some way.

✶ His favorite handholds are your thighs. When you’re sitting together his hand is either trapped between your closed legs or he’s massaging and groping at your skin.

✶ Will spend hours between your legs and is quick to get on his knees if you ask him.

✶ Once his mouth is on you it’s incredibly difficult to push him away. If you try, he’s whining into your skin, pulling you to him.

✶ He’ll apologize if he’s overdone it with the stimulation but always claims he “just can’t get enough of you.”

✶ Let’s out the prettiest sounds when he goes down on you. Sometimes just at the sight of you.

✶ Whispers praises and compliments on your skin when he kisses over your neck and shoulders.

✶ The first time he saw you naked he just sat there for a solid 15 seconds just looking at you. Eventually reached out to touch you, dropping to his knees in front of you, eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

✶ You can safely say you’d never felt more wanted than you did that night.

✶ He gets offended if you talk bad about yourself.

✶ If you’re feeling self conscious about your appearance he finds the nearest mirror and sets you in front of it. Runs his hands over you and makes you repeat affirmations and compliments about yourself.

✶ Will definitely fuck you slowly in front of said mirror. Tells you to watch yourself so you can see what he sees.

✶ If you send him photos of yourself, innocent or not, he’s immediately saving the picture and spewing out multiple texts and paragraphs about how perfect you are.

✶ Tells you often how he believes you “were made just for me.”

✶ Stops mid thrust sometimes to just admire you, mumbling something along the lines of “I can’t believe all this is just for me.”

✶ Goes out of his way to shower you with gifts and gestures to show you how much he appreciates you.

✶ He always remembers the little things you say in passing. You spot something in a store you’d like to have? He’s surprising you with it later in the week. You want to travel to your dream destination? He’s booking the flights and hotel and making an itinerary.

✶ Never complains about money he spends on you because “If it’s to make you happy, I’ll be a broke man.”

✶ Just genuinely and wholeheartedly wants and loves you in every way possible and makes sure that you know.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

Try not to yearn for vessel challenge: IMPOSSIBLE

I just know he’d be the sweetest partner y’all.

Thank you again anon for requesting this!! 🤍

Let me know if y’all like this list format too 👀 it’s definitely easier to write this way lol

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader #sleep token headcanons

286 notes · View notes

idyllicwillowtree · 2 years ago

Text

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure.

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out.

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.”

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?”

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out, but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you.

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

Main Masterlist

544 notes · View notes

moonchildreads · 3 months ago

Text

small town

Chapter 27 - Kids in America

IN THIS CHAPTER: Independence Day, fun fair shenanigans, and Chrissy gives everyone a fright [5.3k]

WARNINGS: explicit eating disorders, parental abuse and unhealthy food related behaviours (specifically mentioned but not described: binging, purging and starving oneself) [if you've seen st4, you know what this is about], friends trying to help a friend with said eating disorder but they're not therapists so keep in mind that everyone is just trying their best, brief discussions of grief/mourning and PTSD

A/N: happy late valentine's day, pookies! hope you enjoy your present <3 someone asked me to be added to the taglist and i can't find who it was, let me know if it was you! (if it wasn't you and you still wanna be added, also let me know lol)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Bright lights, the music gets faster Look, boy, don’t check your watch, not another glance

Friday, July 4th - 1986

Dottie’s first Independence Day in the sleepy little town of Hawkins, Indiana was a very interesting experience. As someone who had never had a backyard until very recently, she was delighted to see that the holiday provided her neighbors with a chance to throw garden parties for their extended families, their heads popping up over the fence to say hello to her and her Dad who had willingly chained himself to the little grill he had splurged on when they first moved into their new house.

The decadent smell of meat and veggies sizzling on the grill, the sounds of children laughing and running around playing with sparklers, glasses of lemonade and cans of beer being passed around to be shared with loved ones - it was, all in all, the perfect picture of the so-called American Dream, and Dottie was enjoying the festivities thoroughly, only a tiny bit sour at the fact that her Dad would be leaving for Florida for almost two weeks the following Monday.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving what was upsetting her, more so that she couldn’t join him because she’d made a commitment to cover Donny’s (now postpartum) sister’s shifts until she left for college, and she tried to never make promises she couldn’t keep. Sticking by her own personal code of honor meant that James would be spending the first half of his trip in stuffy conference rooms and the second half resting by his parents’ pool while Dottie stayed back in Hawkins and served countless freshly baked pizzas to increasingly impatient customers.

The joys of adulthood, she thought grimly, before deciding it could always be worse. She could be Gareth, who was currently stuck bagging groceries while everyone else was enjoying their hard-earned day off.

“I think you may have overdone it, Dad,” Dottie said, noticing the amount of food sizzling on the grill.

“I didn’t want you to go hungry while I’m gone,” James joked.

“You say that like we both don’t know you’re gonna eat all the leftovers by Monday.”

“Are you calling me fat?” he said, inflating his belly and rubbing it dramatically; she fondly rolled her eyes at him. “Actually, I was just thinking - maybe we could invite the Munsons next year. I’m sure Wayne knows a thing or two about grilling, right?”

“Yeah, that- that’d be nice,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I’m sure they’d appreciate the invite.”

On Monday afternoon, Eddie had brought up an interesting point. They’d been cuddling on the pillow-filled seat under Dottie’s bedroom window watching the rain drip down the glass when he announced that their first monthiversary was due the following day. His theory, as he relayed it to her in a theatrical fashion that was so endearingly Eddie, was that since they’d confessed their feelings to one another after the party fiasco, the first time they’d said I love you to one another had been after midnight, and thus, on June 1st.

Dottie had initially been surprised he was so into the idea of celebrating their first month together and after a bit of prodding, she’d gotten the truth out of him: Eddie had never thought he’d be in any kind of relationship long enough to even reach a monthiversary. And so, after dropping their very suspicious friends off with the excuse of getting home before the oncoming storm hit them, the pair headed towards their spot at Lovers’ Lake where Dottie gifted Eddie a homemade mini cake - triple chocolate, much to his delight. They’d shared an ungodly amount of sugary kisses on the back of his van and, on the ride back home, Dottie decided that she’d tell her Dad about Eddie being her boyfriend once he returned from Florida.

There was no need to tell him earlier, she reasoned, just in case he wouldn’t let Eddie stay over anymore while he was out of the house. James wasn’t a horribly strict father but if she could save herself from any uncomfortable conversations involving her still very new sex life, she would take any chance she could get.

“You going to the fair tonight? Heard it’s gonna be packed,” James asked, jostling her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah, Donny’s picking me up later. I’m kinda iffy on it, though.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Gareth said people complained that last year’s fun house was for babies so they got a spookier one this year and I’m not really into that.”

“It’s a fun house, not a haunted house. How bad can it be?”

“It’s circus themed.”

“And?”

“You know I hate the circus!” Dottie argued.

“You aren’t scared of the circus though, you just hate watching the animals,” he reasoned.

“Well, yeah,” she said, angrily. “I’ve seen Dumbo, I know what they do to them when people aren’t looking.”

James let out a snort and went back to his grilling, thinking of the little Dorothy who begged to watch the “flying elephant movie” only to then become the world’s biggest circus hater. Later that night, waving at her as she got into Donny’s car - and noticing she was wearing an old roomy red romper Margaret had worn during the early days of her pregnancy with the same child who was now donning the outfit - he had never been more aware that his baby girl had fully blossomed into an independent young woman.

He knew that if it were up to him, she would never have to leave the nest. If he had his way, they’d continue with their comfortable daily routines until the end of time; she’d always come to him first for advice or a hug, and he’d always be the doting father whose entire world revolved around the life he had helped create. But James wasn’t stupid, and he also wasn’t mean enough to clip her wings for his own comfort’s sake.

They’d never spent more than a couple of days away from each other in Dottie’s entire life. Maybe this upcoming trip would be a blessing in disguise. Maybe they’d both learn something about themselves by the end of it. As Donny’s car pulled away from the driveway and Dottie leaned over her friend to wave goodbye through the rolled down window, a father could only hope that he had prepared his baby for whatever the future threw her way. And, if everything else failed, they both knew he would always be there with his arms open to catch her when she fell.

“Okay, where to next?”

“Can we sit down for a minute? I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a baby!”

Eddie Munson’s stomach was fine. It was always fine, because he was 1) a teenager who loved shovelling junk food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow, and 2) he practically had no gag reflex as discovered one very enlightening night at The Hideout, but his friends didn’t need to know that. No, all his friends needed to know was that he felt sick and they could hop onto the next ride while he hung back with Dottie, who was already rubbing his back like a dutiful nurse ready to tend to her patient. Once they were gone, he figured he could reveal the truth to his girlfriend and they could sneak some kisses behind the darts booth. Easy peasy, like his Grandma used to say. Or not.

“We could go sit down near the stage,” Jeff suggested, his usual heart of gold shining through. “There’s supposed to be a show soon, maybe it’ll be good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Donny said. “My mom went to get her nails done yesterday and overheard the Mayor’s wife say they’re doing a tribute for the people who died last year.”

“What happened last year?” Dottie asked, curiously.

“The mall fire I told you about,” Eddie said. “The one Dustin, Erica and Mike were in, that happened today last year.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that,” she nodded, deep in thought before mumbling to herself. “Kinda get it now.”

“Get what now?”

“Mike,” she simply said, and Gareth motioned for her to explain further. “I talked to Nancy earlier this week, she mentioned Mike is being like… super weird lately. He was supposed to be in Cali by now but the only plane ticket they could get was for this weekend so he’s locked himself in the basement for days. Their mom is getting worried.”

“You think he’s having a hard time because of the mall fire?” Donny asked, crossing his arms on this chest.

“Maybe. Who knows what they saw in there? He could be thinking about that because it’s the anniversary.”

“That happens to soldiers sometimes, y’know? They relive things,” Jeff said. “My Dad told me he knew this guy who would start crying whenever his wife made popcorn. That the sound reminded him of guns going off.”

“Well, that isn’t a depressing thought at all,” Gareth said sarcastically, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Why do you think I’m such a pacifist?” Jeff said, grim smile on his face.

“Dustin’s coming back this weekend, right?” Eddie asked the group at large; Dottie nodded in response. “Maybe we should go hang out with him so he doesn’t turn into a hermit like Wheeler. We could play a one-shot or something.”

“I’m in,” Donny said. “I’ll give him a call when he gets back, see if he’s feeling up to it.”

“If we’re not gonna see the show, d’you guys wanna get on the Paratrooper?” Gareth asked.

“Why don’t you go check out the fun house while Dot and I go get some food?” Eddie said. “Still kinda want to sit down for a sec.”

“Meet us by the picnic tables after?” she proposed to the group.

With arrangements in place, the boys quickly got lost into the crowds as they hurried to get in line for the fun house. Eddie put his arm around Dottie and started guiding her towards the other end of the fair where the food stands had been placed this year, cozying up to her without a care in the world as to whether people saw them or not.

“You didn’t actually feel sick at all, did you?” Dottie asked with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Well…,” he grinned, knowing he had immediately been caught. “Would you be mad at me if I told you I lied ‘cause I wanted to make out with you?”

“Hmm, good question. I guess it depends.”

“On?”

“Are we still getting food or not?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, wrapping both arms around her and squeezing tightly. “Of course we’re gonna get food. What kind of boyfriend do you think I am, huh?”

“Stop it, Ed!” she laughed, thrashing around and trying to escape.

“Accusing me of letting my girl go hungry like I’m some kind of asshole, you’re gonna pay for that,” he argued playfully while still dragging her towards the food carts.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she begged. “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go,” he said, finally getting into the queue leading to the hot dog stand. “But only if you pay your fine first, you fiend.”

“You’re so corny,” she said fondly before grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. “I’ll go find somewhere to sit before the guys get here. Can you get me-”

“Fries with ketchup on the side? You got it, princess,” he said knowingly, kissing her again before she disappeared behind the booth. “Don’t go too far!”

Dottie walked around the picnic area in search of an empty table but found them all to be overcrowded, as if everyone had chosen that exact moment to grab a bite before the show started. From the lawn where they’d set up the tables, you could see the stage they’d built just for the occasion and, off to the side, the Hawkins High School marching band, patiently waiting with their instruments in hand to start entertaining the growing crowd.

Absent-mindedly, she watched them get into position while wondering just how many people in the cozy small town she’d grown to love had spent the last year in mourning without her paying any mind to it. She thought of Mike, Dustin, and Erica, far too young to have witnessed tragedy. What had happened to them? What things were they still seeing behind their eyelids every time they went to sleep? Was that why Mike had been holed up in his basement all week instead of hanging out with them? Did the fireworks waiting to be set off behind the stage remind him of the gates of Hell opening up as the flames consumed the building he and his friends barely escaped from?

Dottie shivered at the image and quickly turned around as music started playing in the distance. She fully intended on going straight back to Eddie and finding a nice patch of grass to sit on and indulge in their shared food but the sight of someone standing in the darkness between two booths made her stop abruptly. Narrowing her eyes to see better, she realized she recognized that strawberry blonde hair swaying in the warm breeze and began walking towards the secluded area.

“Chrissy?” Dottie called, trying to catch her attention to no avail. “Chrissy, is that you?”

Weaving through groups of people heading towards the stage to catch the show, she approached her friend in a rush, happy to see her after almost a full month of zero contact yet concerned because of her strange behavior. Dottie called her name again once she reached the stands but Chrissy never turned around. She just stood there, unresponsive, her back to the crowd as she faced the edge of the clearing leading to the woods.

“Chris? It-it’s me, Dorothy. You remember me?” Dottie said, a little bit spooked.

She lifted her hand, confused as to why Chrissy was not even acknowledging her presence when she’d always been so kind to her before. Slowly so as not to startle her, her fingertips brushed Chrissy’s bare shoulder while she called her name one more time; upon contact, the blonde’s head was immediately thrown back as her body became lax, falling in slow motion before she passed out right into Dottie. Acting on reflex, she managed to wrap her arms around her friend but could not stop the fall in time, both of them careening onto the floor and hitting the grass with a heavy thud.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Dottie said, still holding the blonde close while feeling for a pulse.

“Dottie?” Chrissy said, mouth dry. She felt damp in her own clothes, like she’d ran a marathon and only now noticed the cold sweat on her skin. “What- what happened? I don’t remember-”

“You passed out on me,” she replied, lifting herself up onto her elbows. “Are you okay? Do you need water? I’m gonna go get you water.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Chrissy grabbed her arm to stop her movements. “Please, don’t leave me alone, what if I pass out again?”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m- I’ll stay,” she nodded. “Um, lay- lay down and lift your legs. Here, against the wall like this.”

Chrissy nodded and lifted her pink sneakers to rest her feet against the warm metal booth wall without letting her friend’s hand go. Her skin was clammy and pale, her heart rate erratic and the circles under her eyes even darker in the shadows that surrounded them. Dottie sat behind her, cushioning her head with her thighs and rubbing calming circles with her thumb on her friend’s shoulder. Slowly, Chrissy’s breathing returned to normal as they stayed there, listening to the band playing in the distance and waiting until danger was seemingly out of sight.

“Are you feeling any better now?” Dottie asked, softly.

“Yeah, thank you,” she smiled, but her eyes remained fearful. “This… this is going to sound insane but - I think I was hallucinating before I passed out.”

“Have you eaten anything lately? Maybe your blood sugar is low.”

“Yeah, I had some fruit earlier. And a smoothie,” Chrissy said.

“When was that?”

“Um, breakfast, I guess? I gained some weight during the holidays so I’m on a diet. I’m so hungry,” she chuckled before she realized what she’d just said. “But I’m okay, seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Don’t worry about you? You need more food than that, you can’t eat just an apple and call it a day!” Dottie said in disbelief. “Come on, I’m getting a soda in you right now.”

“No, please, I swear I’m okay!” she pleaded, suddenly agitated. “I’ll have some soup when I get home, I promise.”

“You just passed out standing here, it’s a miracle I even saw you in the dark! You need food now, Chris, not when you get home in a few hours.”

“Please, Dot. You don’t understand, my Mom will kill me if she sees me eating anything from here.”

“She doesn’t have to find out,” Dottie said, helping her into a sitting position. “We can hide in Eddie’s van, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Oh, no, am I ruining your date night? I’m so sorry, I’ll just go-”

“You’re not ruining anything, we came as a group. It’s not a date,” she reassured her. “And even if it was, I can’t let you go like this! You’d be worried if it was me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, but-”

“No buts. Just let me help you out like you’d do for me. If anyone asks where you went, just tell them I was the one feeling sick and you took care of me for a bit. Nobody needs to know. Not your Mom, not Jason-”

“Oh, god, Jason,” Chrissy groaned, throwing an arm on her eyes. “I forgot about him!”

“What, he’s here?” Dottie said, craning her neck to see if he could spot him nearby.

“No, no, it’s… ugh. I’ve been avoiding him all week. I saw him with his friends by the teacups - that’s why I was here when I passed out, I was hiding from him. I must have gotten winded from running away or something and, you know…,” she gestured vaguely.

“Why are you avoiding him? Did he hurt you?”

“No, actually I hurt him.”

“What?”

“I broke up with him,” Chrissy explained in a tone that could only be interpreted as annoyed. “I just have too much going on right now. I have no time to see him with all the training I’m supposed to do before the preseason starts. And, well, he didn’t take it well. Like, at all.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Dottie snorted. “He’s trying to win you back?”

“No, he, like, refuses to accept that I broke up with him. Says it doesn’t count because I didn’t say it to his face.”

“Oh my god, you broke up with him over the phone? Chrissy, you dog!”

“I know, shut up!” they laughed together. “I know it was mean, I just didn’t want to see him cry, okay?”

“He cried?!” Dottie cackled loudly as if they were having a sleepover in her bedroom and not sitting in the dark between two food stalls. “I’d say I’m sorry but you don’t look too sad.”

“I’m not,” she said truthfully. “I mean… I don’t know, he isn’t a bad boyfriend. He loves me and he really tries but I just can’t deal with my Mom, him, getting ready for college, everything at the same time. It’s too much right now. And I keep having these horrible nightmares that just feel so real. I just needed a break, that’s all. It’s not his fault.”

“Well… maybe avoiding him is not doing you any good either,” the brunette reasoned. “It’s definitely stressing you out if you have to actively hide from him. I’m sure if you told him everything that’s going on in your life, he’d understand.”

“He’s going to think I’m losing my mind.”

“Welcome to the club, sweet cheeks,” Dottie palmed her face sarcastically, making her snort. “Look, it doesn’t have to be now, okay? Just think about it for a while and do what your heart tells you to do. Preferably after we get some food in you, please.”

“You’re so pushy sometimes,” Chrissy said kindly.

“I know,” she grinned in return. “Come on, let’s find Eddie and borrow his keys.”

Upon standing up, Chrissy’s legs didn’t even get the chance to wobble before Dottie was throwing an arm around her waist to help support her weight. Feeling equal parts thankful and embarrassed, she let herself be carried through the picnic area as they both scanned the crowd for the tall metalhead that had orchestrated the beginnings of their friendship. They found him standing on his tiptoes trying to spot a familiar face, hands and cargo short pockets full of goodies to share with friends.

“Hey, Chris!” Eddie said when they got near him. “When did you get back from up North?”

“Hi, Eddie! Uh, last weekend,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t called, I’ve just been so busy training and everything.”

“Ed, can we get your keys?” Dottie asked. “Chrissy isn’t feeling well and there are no free tables here where she can sit.”

“Yeah, sure. They’re in my back pocket,” he turned around and popped his butt out so Dottie could grab them for him. “You okay?”

“I’m better now, thank you,” the blonde said. “I passed out and Dot caught me, thank God she was there.”

“You passed out? I can go get you water if you want,” he offered, following the girls towards the parking area.

“I think she needs some sugar,” Dottie said. “Did you get any sodas?”

“Yeah, in my pockets,” he jiggled his foot a bit in the air to demonstrate how full they were. “I didn’t have enough hands for everything.”

“Sorry I abandoned you back there.”

“It’s okay, Chrissy needed you more.”

Once the trio was safely tucked in the back of the van, Chrissy filled Eddie in about what was going on in her life and, as expected, he reacted similarly to his girlfriend when it was revealed that Jason had indeed cried over the phone while getting dumped. He was much less insistent on her talking to her now ex-boyfriend to sort out their issues, but he still remained fairly supportive of her choices as he had always been.

Dottie picked at the basket of fries as Chrissy and Eddie talked, carefully paying attention to her friend’s eating habits. She had initially accepted the cold can of Coke Eddie had offered and taken a promising sip from it, but after that it remained untouched, condensation forming a ring on the floor of the van. Chrissy ate a total of two fries with no ketchup, and only took a tiny bite out of Eddie’s jumbo pretzel when he said that salt would help her blood pressure go up after passing out. Dottie knew this was likely much deeper than just this new diet her Mom had put her in and wasn’t really sure how to approach the situation gently. There was no need to, however, not when Eddie was three steps ahead and not willing to take no for an answer.

“You don’t like ketchup?” he asked her, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“No, I do, it’s just… I’m not feeling well,” Chrissy lied, rubbing her stomach. “I’m still a little dizzy.”

“You should drink more, the sugar will help,” he pushed, but not unkindly. “I can get you a different one if you don’t like Coke.”

“Sorry, I… I know I’m being weird,” she said, embarrassed.

“Chris, no one here is going to judge you for eating junk food. It’s a fair, it’s what you’re supposed to do at these places,” he patted her knee. “You can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple, Ed. My Mom will literally kill me if she finds out.”

“You’re 18. You’re moving to Ohio in a few weeks. Fuck what your Mom says, you’re practically skin and bones. Just eat the damn pretzel, please.”

“You don’t get it,” she muttered, eyes beginning to fill with tears she’d been hiding for a lifetime now. “My new uniform doesn’t fit. I- I know I gained weight during the holidays, but it wasn’t that much. She must have gotten the wrong size on purpose because it’s so small. I’ll never fit in it.”

“God, Chrissy,” Dottie said, leaning to pull her into a hug. “I’m so sorry, she shouldn’t have done that. Can you exchange it for a bigger one? You can use my address for the delivery so your Mom doesn’t find out.”

“I called them already, you can’t send it back because it’s made to order. I have to get a new one or alter it, and my Mom already said she’s not helping me.”

“I can alter it for you! We can call my aunt for advice, she’s a great seamstress. I’m sure she’ll know what to do, we’ll figure it out!”

“It’s so unfair,” Chrissy said, her jaw tight. “I’m working out for hours every day, I’m barely eating, and I’m still not losing enough weight for her. I’m just so… so angry all the time!”

“Good! Get angry!” Eddie said. “We’ve been friends for months and I haven’t seen you eat more than three bites at a time. You deserve more than this, sweetheart. It’s okay if you’re pissed off, we’re not judging.”

“You also deserve to be healthy,” Dottie said. “And sometimes, healthy means sharing a basket of fries with friends. Do you think you can do that today? For us?”

Ever since she’d come back from her trip, Chrissy felt like her life was rapidly spiralling out of control. No matter how much she tried to hide it, the years of starving, binging, and purging to be followed by constant verbal abuse within the walls of her own home were finally catching up to her. She’d spent the last week eating cabbage soup and drinking herbal teas and weight-loss smoothies and she was so tired.

She was tired of everything, of the expectations placed upon her, of the persistent burning in her throat, of having to lie to her boyfriend, to her friends, to her doctors, to her own father. But most importantly, she was tired of the ever-present pang of hunger at the base of her stomach, and about feeling guilty of both getting rid of it or forcing herself to sleep the pain away.

With more anger than she’d ever allowed herself to truly feel in her entire life, she leaned over the basket of fries to reach for Eddie’s jumbo pretzel. Her friends watched in awe as she ripped apart a big piece from it, dunked it in the little cheese sauce container next to it and shoved it in her mouth, letting out a happy moan at the taste of the first appetizing food she’d had in forever. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the Coke can from its place on Eddie’s van floor and hurriedly gulped half of it, a stray drop escaping the side of her lips and falling onto her waiting hand under her chin.

“Goddamn, Chris!” Eddie exclaimed, clapping wildly for her.

“That was awesome,” Dottie said, eyes shining with delight.

“It felt awesome,” Chrissy said, both proud and shy at the same time.

Two booming hits to the side of the van made them all jump in their spots, a familiar nasal voice loudly ringing from the outside before the back doors had even been opened.

“If you guys wanted to go make out somewhere, you could have - oh,” said Gareth, clearly stunned to see Chrissy inside. “Hi?”

Still holding the can of Coke mid air, she opened her mouth to say hello when a huge belch came gurgling from the depths of her throat. Gareth, Jeff, and Donny stood there, completely shocked as the blonde turned to look at the only other girl present, both of them instantly dissolving into a fit of giggles as soon as they locked eyes with one another. Dottie enveloped her again in a tight hug and Chrissy returned it, feeling more like herself than she could ever remember being.

“You three joining the party or what?” Eddie said, scooting to make room.

“We thought you guys had ditched us,” Jeff said, climbing in while holding another basket of fries, a big plastic cup of fresh lemonade and a corn dog with mustard on it.

“Sorry I stole them away,” Chrissy smiled at him. “I was feeling sick so they’ve been taking care of me.”

“You okay?” Donny asked, dropping a huge funnel cake with powdered sugar and a popcorn bag in the middle of the circle for everyone to grab.

“I feel much better, thank you.”

The boys quickly got into a dramatic retelling of the contents of the fun house, which according to Gareth was for babies but still miles better than last year’s. Dottie and Jeff were discussing what ride they wanted to get on next while Donny and Gareth were sharing bits of funnel cake, commenting on the pros and cons of the different rooms inside the fun house they’d just visited when Chrissy felt movement next to her.

“Hey,” Eddie said, voice low to keep the conversation to follow as private as he could.

“Hey.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything on your own, y’know?” he said, leaning to grab a few pieces of popcorn. “We’re here if you need us. I know we’re not, like, cool or popular or anything, but we take care of our own.”

“I know, Eddie. Thank you,” she said, pulling him into a hug that conveyed how much trust she had in him and how meaningful his words were to her.

“What are we hugging for?” Jeff asked, passing his half eaten corn dog to Dottie who took a bite with gusto.

“The power of friendship,” Eddie replied theatrically.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Y’all wanna hotbox the van in the name of friendship?” Gareth said, pulling a little metal case from his pocket.

“Yes, please, I haven’t smoked in forever,” Chrissy said, snacking on a long fry.

“Fuck yeah, man, let’s do it,” Donny said as he relaxed against the walls of the van.

“You wanna go to the Ferris Wheel while they smoke?” Dottie proposed to Jeff, the only other non-smoker in the group.

“Come on, we’re not kicking you guys out so we can hotbox the van,” Eddie said, stretching behind Chrissy to shove her shoulder lightly. “We’ll open the windows, we’re not animals.”

“We can still do the Ferris Wheel later though,” Jeff said. “Should be fun.”

“You guys wanna go to the photobooth later too?” Chrissy asked while Gareth tightly packed a joint.

“There’s a photobooth?” Dottie said, instantly down for the new plans. “Do you think all of us can fit in together?”

“Definitely not, but we should try anyway,” Donny laughed.

It had never been easy for Chrissy to rely on others, and it wasn’t going to be easy to start now, but for these friends, her first real friends, she was willing to try. Besides, Eddie was right. Just a few more weeks and she’d be in Ohio, away from her overbearing mother and starting a completely new life, meeting new teammates and attending classes that actually interested her for once. She could only hope that these friendships she was beginning to develop would accompany her until her last day in Hawkins, and possibly even beyond that.

Freedom was so close, the finish line in sight. She just had to keep moving forward, one step at a time and victory would be hers. It was a shame, really, that she didn’t know someone else was quickly gaining on her on the inside track.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @eg-dr3amer3 @oneforthemunny @munsons-queen

@cinemabean

32 notes · View notes

spider-jaysart · 11 months ago

Note

Any hot takes or unpopular opinions about super sons?

Here's some for the animated movie first:

Jon's voice doesn't suit him at all for the age he's supposed to be, it just kept throwing me off a little everytime he spoke with it. It's definitely not terrible though, it's just not for him at all

Idk about others opinions on Damian's voice though, but I really loved it. I felt like it fitted him pretty well and let his daring and mischievous side stand out really nicely. It's my favorite for him personally

I don't like that they white washed Damian in it once again when they could've definitely given him his darker skin and green eyes (I know this one's very popular already, but I just wanted to say it still). And when they showed the pitcher boy in the baseball game, he literally had EXACTLY those features on himself, which made it really feel like it was an actual annoying tease of some sort, since his model strangely looked way more like Damian than Damian himself did

And also besides all of that stuff, when Damian is in his Robin model, I feel like he looks perfectly fine and cool, but his civilian version looks a little weird to me for some reason. And I know that his hair in his Robin form is also a little funny too because of how long it is, but I don't really have a problem with it lol

Now for the ones outside of the movie:

I'm not so crazy about them being a Nightwing and Flamebird duo as adults. I want them to become their own identities, but not by using those mantles, cause it's still not completely theirs and isn't really fitting for them to me either, not even the Batman and Superman mantles either. Other characters like Dick, Chris, and Bette have already used them and made their names with it. Damian and Jon both actually deserve their own that let them shine in their real unique ways and stay independently remembered without their titles getting into the mix of confusion with other hero's. Everyone is allowed to have fun with it obviously though, no matter what I think

For a day job as an adult, Jon should become a scientist instead of a writer or reporter for the Daily Planet like his parents, because that's just totally boring and he's also his own person, not their twin. Just cause he's their child, it doesn't mean he's gonna be exactly like them and daydream about their hobbies. And it makes a lot more sense for science being his dream job too, because he's shown plenty of interest in it before

And for Damian, he should become a vetinarian as an adult, and credit to my good friend @camo-wolf for this next part here that I love, which is that he also owns his own company as a ceo to do it too, so he also has many more helpful clinics opened everywhere instead of just one

I'm not too crazy about their trinity with Lizzie and just can't see the boys having one either. It feels like it's just another thing to make them even more like their Dad's once again imo, but I think they're better off being kept as just a duo still. And unlike many other Damijon and Supersons fans, I'm also not crazy about Lizzie herself either :| (Not saying that I hate or dislike her though). I will say that the stories with the three of them together are pretty fun and cute though, despite what I feel about her. Oh, and for another little thing, even though it's Damian and Jon's thing in their relationship to fight and argue over things, it feels a little overdone in those books and feels like they're being more like just nasty to eachother with their certain comments and want to actually just get the other mad constantly

Speaking of groups, besides the boys having their little Supersons duo to themselves, as kids Damian and Jon definitely should've had their own awesome superhero team together a LONG time ago with characters their own age that could've grown with them like how it was originally planned for canon, instead of them both being shoved into ones like Teen Titans and other already established ones like that, because those groups have so much of their own stuff going on that just doesn't fit the boys and all of the members in them are usually much older than them too. For my idea about what they would have, I like to think that it's a fun group separate from the Supersons duo that both Damian and Jon lead and their main members could've been young close friends of theirs, like Maya Ducard, Kathy Brandon, and Colin Wilkes, and then for additional ones, it could be Tai Pham, Maps Mizoguchi, Flatline, Respawn, Suren Darga, Chris Kent, Irey and Jai West, Lian Harper, and even though I play around with their ages a lot in my own universes like randomly switching them both from toddlers to tweens whenever I feel like it, I'll say Mar'i and Jake too (idk if I'm forgetting any others). Then for the team name, I choose "Legacy's Youth" or "Youthful Legacy" or "Legacy's challangers"

And for another thing to do with groups, Dceased should've just let Maya and Kathy be the girls that teamed up with the boys, instead of forcing a deaged Cassie Sandsmark into it just to date Damian, create a trinity, and be the girl in a boys group, because unlike her, Maya and Kathy are the ones who actually have real relationships and history with Damian and Jon that were already made outside of that universe, so they both would've been much better picks. And without all of that dating stuff too, because them being boys and girls doesn't mean they should have to (plus, Damian and Jon seemed like they were the ones that were actually dating and also married to eachother instead in the story anyways lmao, so that's more proof that there was literally no need for it)

Jon's electric powers that came out during his Injustice crossover are so lame, cause that's not anything new. His solar flare is so much more dope and unique than that, what happened to it?!?! I prefer it way more

The team up reunion Supersons book that came out with Older!Jon and Damian in his new suit felt like their personalities were kind of swapped in some parts of the story, which was kind of weird to see and bothered me a little

During Damian's first time visit in the future, Jon should've been way more protective and stood up for him better when Saturn Girl and the other legion of heroes members began saying their hateful and nasty comments out loud about him right in front of his dang face. And even more defensive he should've been too when Saturn girl started messing with Damian's mind out of nowhere like it was okay and then put him to sleep, instead of just letting her like he did. He should've had complete second thoughts about the whole team right there and decide to leave after how uncomfortable they've made things, instead of still joining them anyways like they're still cool and forgetting about what had just happened. Jon's actual entire reaction during it all was just so naive and felt so ridiculous to me, it was disappointing

Jon and Chris Kent can both exist together at the same time, there is no problem with it at all. And just because Chris was taken away, that doesn't mean Jon's existence should be hated for it, it's the fault of DC writers for what happened, not him

Damian should also be able to finally have a sweet relationship with his Mother already instead of it still being dragged away from him all the time and also still being considered as an abusive one for him, because 1. being horrible to her child is ooc for Talia and 2. Damian deserves to have her in his life, not just Bruce as a Father. He should also be able to have a good relationship with the rest of Al Ghul's too and even a sibling relationship with Respawn as well, not just the ones he has with the Batkids. I know that some (or most?? Idk lol) fans don't like him because they say his origin made Ra's look bad for having him be abusive to him, but that's all very unnecessary blame on Respawn's character that he doesn't deserve at all, it was just a role he was put in as a victim, it's obviously the fault of the writers who wrote the story to be that way. I also feel like it would've made more sense that Slade raised him and was the one who had actually abused him, because he's done it to his other kids in the past anyways and him being a toxic parent is actually very in character for him

The Fortress of attitude is literally catching dust now that Damian and Jon have both completely forgotten about it for some reason, it deserves to make a comback!!

Jon used to have a dog named Ranger, I'm not sure what exactly happened to him (I guess he was forgotten about or whatever), but he shouldn't have been erased. He was adorable

I prefer Damian's pushed back spikey hair so much more over his current flat and long one, it fits him better. The current one does look nice on him and I get the reason behind why he has it, which is pretty sad, but it makes him look too similar to Tim and I don't like that. The same artist who made Damian's new hair that way in the first place also doesn't draw Flatline's spikey hair either, which makes me think they might actually have something against those kinds of hairstyles lol

Damian would so get along with Lois because of their sass and Talia would actually love Jon for how great he is to her Son

Annnnd I think that's probably all of my unpopular opinions about the boys for now lol

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I enjoyed answering this!

76 notes · View notes

moorishflower · 2 years ago

Text

I'm watching Cunk on Earth and the image I got in my brain was one of retired Dream, new and fragile and trying to get his bearings, and Hob tells him "Let's put on something funny? I've been meaning to watch this one." And he puts on Cunk on Earth, and Hob finds it hilarious (especially when she gets to the medieval bits), right up until Dream, who has been -- unbeknownst to Hob -- getting himself well and truly lathered over the past 40-60 minutes, bursts into tears.

"Fuck," Hob says, and scrambles to get into a better position, the awkwardness of sitting beside someone on a sofa not the ideal way to comfort someone who is, by all indications, in the process of having some sort of horrific existential crisis. "Oh, fuck, Dream, sorry, sorry, I don't even know what I'm sorry for, please stop crying, why are we crying?"

(Hob has tried to cultivate a sense of empathy since the 1700s, and sometimes, like now, he thinks he might have overdone it a bit.)

And Dream, sniffling, red-eyed and tear tracks down his cheeks and snot glistening around his nostrils in a way that wouldn't be charming on any other human except for him, says, "All of the things she is saying are wrong."

#dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #laughing and sniffling over the idea of newly-retired Dream being unable to find the humor in absurdism #because he can no longer tell when someone is being wrong on purpose #or lying #or wrong because they just don't know better #Dream trying desperately to find this funny because Hob does #and just getting more and more worked up because he can't #and he wants to be angry but there's no one to be angry AT so it's just tears all the way down

441 notes · View notes

elkian · 28 days ago

Text

Something I keep meaning to talk about is about video games and art.

We've sort of meandered closer to a cultural perception of video games as art, I feel - more 'serious' games discussing major ideas like Disco Elysium, for example, seem to have helped. And of course the vast majority of video games contain at least one, often more, types of art within them: visuals art of many stripes, writing, music, etc.

But while thinking on this, something occurred to me.

I think you can argue that game mechanics are a form of art.

(My mother's old sculpting teacher differentiated 'art' and 'craft' by whether something had an intended function. I do think it's an interesting and occasionally useful metric, but I don't think it's a hard rule, personally. Hyperfunctionality can trip over into art in its own way imo. That's just me kind of preloading this bit: I don't think being functional means mechanics can't be art, but also, what is and is not art has been an argument since art first existed, so.

Anyways.)

We talk about ludonarrative dissonance - when game narrative and game mechanics contradict each other, worsening the experience - but I don't think we talk about ludonarrative harmony as much. And, deliberate (or at times, serendipitous) ludonarrative dissonance can also enhance an experience.

Undertale is a fantastic example of game mechanics being part of the experience in an inextricable way. It has too many examples to list here and some are quite spoilery, but from the saving mechanics to a major boss jumping straight into the first attack if you rudely skip the leadup dialogue, to straight-up destroying parts of the UI, it highlights just how much the gameplay can enhance an experience. A significant element of Undertale's narrative is about video games - about the casual callousness with which players are expected and encouraged to treat certain aspects of a game world - so I think it's very fitting that the video-game-part of the video game itself plays a role in the telling.

The Portal series, but specifically Portal 2, does this quite well as well. The player-character has no lines and limited opportunities to change the course of the narrative, but Portal is a very active game. The storytelling is built into the environments - particularly once you break out of the pristine, highly-controlled testing environments - but also your actions. The final action you can take in Portal 2 is incredibly rewarding if you've been paying attention to the story at all, and it pushes the game mechanics you've been using for the past 2 games to the absolute limit of what you dreamed possible.

On a more specific detail, Portal 2's gameplay plays around with your perceptions. Early on, Wheatley instructs you to say "apple", and you're given a button prompt. The text on screen reads, "press [button] to say apple". When you press the button, you jump. Chell doesn't speak. It's not only funny, but it sets up your expectations for the game you're about to play. Fallout: New Vegas, Final Fantasy XIV and some other games do a similar thing in quest updates, either updating the quest verbatim ("go find the idiot in sunglasses") or immediately telling you to proceed by doing something the quest NPC just told you not to do.

Tapping the 4th wall is common in many video games, especially big ones with more irreverent writing, but it's not the only way to bind narrative and gameplay. (It can also be grating if overdone, so one has to know how to balance it; I think FF14 does a pretty good job of that, for instance.)

FNV has one I really hate-like in a zone that is straight out of a horror movie. The unique enemies in this zone can be spotted in the foliage if you look closely, but VATS - a mechanism that lets a computer target foes for you - doesn't acknowledge them until they fully stand up and begin to attack you. If you, like me, have been using VATS for combat this whole time, it's an incredibly unnerving moment - it feels like my legs have been scythed out from under me. VATS is particularly helpful if you don't have a lot of FPS experience or the reaction time for it, and without its immediate assist you either have to try and kill these things freehand or back up and hope you can target them before they Get you. It's a subtle but extremely effective way of enhancing the fear factor. It's almost like the game is lying to you, a little bit.

And some games push that "almost like" to "absolutely". There's a certain trust one places in a game when you start playing - a trust that the mechanics will function as expected, that you can do the things you're told you can do. Some games, particularly horror games, can leverage this innate trust to do some really unsettling stuff. I haven't played Spec Ops: The Line, but I have heard some things about it and how it becomes increasingly unsettling. Some games change or remove things in your inventory, force you to fight back against 'your own' violent urges, or otherwise affect your access to the tools you expect. Interface Screw (the experience of the game's actual interface changing or working against you, such as suddenly flipping directional inputs, lying about your health, or otherwise messing with the UI) is another pretty common component. Games like Pathologic and Slay The Princess may limit your dialogue options in ways the player can lampshade in dialogue, and I've heard Pathologic 2's save games can get weird, which is a real breach of that unconscious trust.

Speaking of, some games - not all of them horror - will delete or offer to delete your save at key points or if you do certain actions. This is a pretty major act - save games can represent hours, sometimes hundreds of hours, of the work and playtime you put into something, and destroying all that is no joke.

A particular form of interface screw can be seen in some visual novels or other games with dialog logs, such as Doki Doki Literature Club or The House In Fata Morgana - where the text on the screen and the text in the log don't match. (In DDLC I think it was mostly the messed-up text being more readable in the log, but it's been a minute.) Most games with text logs don't do this, so going back to see if the creepy thing you just noticed was real only to find out that something has changed is definitely unsettling.

In other games, the exact mechanics can really affect your gameplay. It doesn't all have to be deeply profound or creepy stuff. Sometimes the snappiness of combat, ease of performing the main game loop, or the kindness built into the platforming mechanics can boost a game from good to great. Games that feel good to play are going to be more fondly remembered than those that aren't, after all.

In Stars and Time and its predecessor, Start Again, do some interesting stuff with time loops in gameplay that I haven't really seen before. In some ways, SASAP is even more successful at certain things - because it has way less opportunity to build up everything, the moments have to hit a lot harder. In SASAP I got sick of the grating replay of each dialogue line shockingly fast, and it was good at putting me in the protagonist's shoes; I also (since, again, starting at the end) found Siffrin's 'act again' move even more potent emotionally, because there's less variety of enemies in SASAP so it's generally more effective to give turns to the person with the right counter - and this matches the narrative, because Siffrin is literally using his bonkers high-level power to give his friends more time. It plays into the narrative into a way I found really powerful. ISAT has more time get into the groove of things and build up ideas, so both do some really interesting stuff with the concept of a time loop in video games that I don't think I've seen elsewhere.

Anyways, it's interesting to think of gameplay itself as an art - not just something accomplished by a person with technical skill, vision, and luck, though it is that - but something that can enhance a game with its own merits and mesh with the rest of the game that boosts the result to new levels.

EDIT: All of that I forgot a major example in Mouthwashing; the game is a pretty linear (so to speak), self-contained story, and it could work as a short film, for instance, but it's much more powerful narratively as a video game. The classic low-poly graphics add to the sense of jank as you-the-player try to piece things together. More to the point, it makes the story much more compelling, to me; by starting so close to the end, it's pretty clear that Mouthwashing is a tragedy, and as the player constantly marching the story to its end, I felt culpable in that tragedy. Driving, yet unable to change the outcome. The mixture of responsibility (ah ha ha...) and helplessness really accentuates the actual story being told, while the surreal moments and hard, glitchy scene transitions gives it a very unreal feeling.

(Some of the alternate gameplay sections like the cargo bay kind of took me out of it, tbh; reminded me too much that I was Playing A Video game, since the mechanics differed and were harder to grapple with than what I'd been doing up til that point. This I think emphasizes the balance it was trying to maintain where you're both playing a game and living a story at the same time; when that balance falls out of whack, it's more jarring.)

#elk text #elk essay more like

18 notes · View notes