#and has repeatedly sexualized him And seemed ashamed of it when other important people knew

[hypervoxel]

Oh, so, like, the entire first season's establishment of the characters and their interactions don't actually matter in Helluva Boss. Okay, cool.

Like, I get that characterization develops over time and the writers come up with new ideas and places they want to take the story, but. So much of the Stolas/Blitzø stuff recently isn't character development: it's retconning.

[shadowluver1242]

I finished “The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck”

I read the full 12 chapters, plus the “Companion” section that had bonus stories in between the chapters, and “The Last Sled to Dawson”, “The Dream of a Lifetime”, and “A Letter From Home.” 

This has to be my favorite comic series I’ve read so far. Not just because it’s Scrooge, but there’s so much heart and emotion put into it and you’re able to follow the story so easily (which for me is hard as I get easily distracted and forget where I’m at). But this story kept my attention and made me want to keep going to the next chapter, every night I thought “just one more, just one more!” I absolutely loved the story. If you want a more in depth review chapter by chapter, read below. (SPOILERS) 

Again, thank you so much for who ever first made me find this (I actually can’t remember but it was probably a mix of everyone) as well as the album that made the story SO MUCH BETTER. Listening to the music while reading the chapter associated, really made you feel like you were in the story with the characters. I highly recommend reading this comic while listening to the music if any of you have not already. If anyone needs links or more info, feel free to ask!

This part will be a chapter by chapter review/my thoughts (some chapters might be merged together if they have similar topics).

“Of Ducks, Dimes, and Destinies”: I wasn’t sure what to expect going into this, but apparently this chapter was the intro, though it’s more like a AU of sorts. I thought it was cute though seeing Magica out of her element. My favorite part of it had to be her not recognizing young 10 yr old Scrooge while confusing Fergus for the rich old duck. But in her defense, they do look a lot alike.

“The Last of The Clan McDuck”: Now the story really begins! I wanted to get more history on Scrooge so that was one of the main reasons I wanted to read this series. It was actually a bit of a surprise to see the pampered, penny-pincher a humbled, poor and very sweet boy. Seeing how he turned into almost a completely different person is a bit sad really, but at least we know in his later years some of that sweet, caring side is still present. I admire Scrooge’s bravery in how willingly he left his family and the only life he knew for uncertainty and possibly danger at only 13 years old. He certainly matured very fast and unfortunately that forced his childhood to end at an early age.

“The Master of the Mississippi”: This was probably one of my least favorite chapters if I’m being honest. It was fun seeing a teenage Scrooge adapting in his new life in America and Uncle Pothole was certainly an interesting character! Plus seeing the Beagle Boys’ origins was interesting as well.

“The Buckaroo of the Badlands,” “The Cowboy Captain of the Cutty Sark”, “The Raider of the Copper Hill,” Also “The Vigilante of Pizen Bluff”: So all of these chapters are in the “Wild West” portion of Scrooge’s life; his teenage years and early twenties. Seeing Scrooge already fighting for his fortune and failing at every turn was almost surprising in that he always seems to succeed in life. I was so convinced he’d strike it rich on the Copper Hill, but fate seemed to have other plans for him. However at this point in his life he’s still staying true to his roots and vowing to earn his fortune honestly. (But to be fair he does get $10,000. And back then that’s got to have been like a million dollars now a days.) I’d also wondered how he’d get along with animals, and it turns out he’s a real Disney princess. He gives love and respect to animals and they love him in return.

“The New Laird of Castle McDuck”: NERVE RACKING. Not only do the McDuck’s risk losing the ancestral home to their arch nemesis, but Scrooge DIES. (or just gets knocked out?) Anyway he goes to McDuck heaven where he almost stays before finally getting another chance (for becoming the stingiest person to ever live). He ends up using all the money he got from the Copper Hill to pay for the McDuck Castle. Plus we also see Scrooge use his specs for the very first time, though it’s only for reading.

“The Terror of the Transvaal”:  Ah Flintheart, you were a scumbag before Scrooge came into the picture. Scrooge is a lion whisperer apparently, and he makes fun of Flintheart in front of the entire town before throwing him in jail, making a lifelong enemy.

“The Dreamtime Duck of the Never Never”: I was excited for this one. Love that Australian Outback theme! Scrooge rides on a camel head, which is perfect. I still love seeing how much animals love and trust Scrooge. He’s started to become less trusting of people due to being tricked at every turn, and therefore is a bit skeptical of the shaman in the desert. However seeing the dream, or prophesy of sorts, come true (which was super cool btw), it starts his admiration of history and architecture. Scrooge almost took that giant Opal that could easily have made him rich, but that would have been dishonest, and Scrooge decides against it (a bit begrudgingly). I’m so happy he got his dime back, it was worrying seeing him lose hope that his fortune would never come. He’s worked so hard and to give up now would be devastating. Thankfully he was inspired and his story finally started to look up.

“The King of the Klondike”, “The Prisoner of White Agony Creek”, “Hearts of the Yukon”, “The Last Sled to Dawson”: ...no words. I knew these would be my favorite sections. Yukon Scrooge, upper 20′s - early 30′s - in his prime, Scrooge. The beginning of his fortune. The beginning of Goldie. GOLDIE. Where do I even start?! Whew, this is going to be long. First of all, the whole ordeal Scrooge had to go through just to get to White Agony Creek was ridiculous. Finally he finds where the gold should be, but it’s not quite that easy. Everyone in Dawson mocks him endlessly for not spending any money on fun, which is completely unfair. The absolute worst part is when that mean old pig kidnaps him and chains him to the smokestacks of the boat. (Seriously this boy gets knocked out so much I’m surprised he doesn’t have a brain injury) The men mock him and then read the two only letters he’s ever gotten from his family out loud, one of which is from his mother who says they’re falling behind on payments for the castle, and the next...his father informing him that his mother has passed away. The men even mock him in his mother’s death. And Scrooge...freaking pulls a Sampson and pulls the smokestacks until they collapse onto the boat, throws a grand piano through a stained glass window, beats up any and all the men who dare fight him, and then drags the pig’s listless body through the main road in town for all to see until he can throw him to the mercy of the ‘law’ in the area. Then comes Goldie, he kidnaps her, and brings her back to his home for stealing his goose egg nugget (the biggest gold nugget ever) to show her how hard a miner has to work. They stay together alone in the wilderness for a whole month. My gosh was this chapter full of sexual tension. I’m such a die-hard Scroldie shipper now I can’t even deny it. Eventually the two part their ways, but end up meeting again in the near future when Goldie saves Scrooge from losing his claim (in a roundabout way). Then we get to see Scrooge’s last trip to Dawson before leaving the Yukon and moving on with his fortune. He loses his sled and has to return 50 years later to get it with Donald and the boys. The only thing of importance in the sled was old memories, but it was worth the fight for old Scroogey. This section was definitely the best, but molds Scrooge’s rough and tough attitude. 

“The Billionaire of Dismal Downs”: After more than 20 years, Scrooge is finally coming home to Dismal Downs successful, he’s a billionaire. The whole town has come to greet him and as soon as he shows up, they give him a big round of...tomatoes and insults hurling at him. After all he’s done this is how he’s treated??! His wild temper quickly flares and Fergus is surprised at how his son has changed, as well as the town who thought he was such a nice boy. The town people believe he no longer belongs in Scotland. After a quick visit to his mother’s grave insert sobbing here Scrooge decides to participate in the games to show how much he belongs, he even wears a kilt! Now Scrooge should have dominated this, however he’s completely forgotten the rules, and therefore disqualifies himself almost every time. A young boy named Scottie tries to show him the ropes, however fails miserably. Eventually they return to the castle where his sisters make fun of Scrooge’s lock of golden hair hurr hurr and they all decide to move to Duckburg, America, that is, except Fergus who says he’s too old to move again. The chapter ends with ghost Fergus (who’s passed away in the night) and ghost Downy waving goodbye to their children before joining McDuck heaven. I literally cried in this chapter.

“The Invader of Fort Duckburg”, and “The Sharpie of the Culebra Cut”: Some more important chapters, but not extremely interesting in my opinion. We see the founding of Duckburg and the Junior Woodchucks, as well as the Panama Canal and more of Scrooge suffering from his sisters, who make him wear his specs full time after he repeatedly makes mistakes due to his failing eyesight.

“The Empire-Builder from Calisota”: Sigh. We see the deep fall of Scrooge’s morals. He visits his sisters, whom he hasn’t seen in quite a while, and takes them to Africa where he’s working on his current dealings with the natives. Instead of making fair trades like in the past, he uses cunning tricks to minimize his costs in buying the diamond mines he seeks. His sisters criticize him, but he brushes them off. He moves on to a voo-doo native tribe (his first mistake) who doesn’t want to sell. After being humiliated in front of his kin, he goes into town and recruits several people to help him burn down the village and destroy everything in sight while his sisters return to camp, ashamed of their brother. Scrooge then puts on a disguise and ‘rescues’ the clan leader who previously embarrassed him, and tricks him into signing over his land. This is far from the kind, humble, honest boy we knew in the beginning. He returns back to camp, triumphant, to gloat to his sisters only to find they’ve left him. There’s a lone note remaining saying he’s not the man they used to know and to come back once he changes his ways. Scrooge is initially enraged, feeling betrayed. However as he argues with himself, his father’s voice comes into his head, reminding him how he wanted to make his fortune honestly, and has now just committed his first (and only) dishonest trade. Scrooge realizes what he’s done, and as he tries to run after his sisters, the witch doctor returns and casts a curse on him to have a zombie attack him. However Scrooge is still in disguise, and quickly makes himself look normal, which tricks the zombie. However for the next several years the zombie would haunt him and occasionally show up. In Scrooge’s quest to apologize to his sisters, he makes many sidetracks in making his fortune. The zombie even causes the crash of the Titanic that Scrooge was riding on. (seriously everything is his fault) Finally, after 27 years, he returns to Duckburg to stay. His family has heard he was coming and decided to put aside their differences and be a family once again, even bringing the young Donald and Della. However Scrooge has completely changed, for the worse, and completely ignores his family, eventually chasing them out of his life, for good, but not before the young and feisty Donald can give him a kick in the rear.

“The Richest Duck in the World”: Feels. All feels. We finally see Scrooge as the miserable old man we know him as. Alone and bitter and cut off from everyone. But he becomes too lonely one Christmas and invites Donald and the boys up to the mansion, if only to show them the wealth and future inheritance when he’s gone. It’s as if Scrooge is expecting to die fairly soon, and he’s completely given up on everything. The bin is shut down, he’s not making any money or traveling anymore, he doesn’t leave his house, and he hasn’t even swam in his money in years. He really has just given up. But the boys manage to inspire him, in a way that they literally make him so angry he just can’t take it anymore and eventually returns the swift kick to Donald. Afterwards we see rejuvenated Scrooge - though still elderly, he feels full of life once again. Start DuckTales story... 

“The Dream of a Lifetime”: I just had to read this because of the jumps in Scrooge’s dreams through his lifetime. It was adorable seeing young Scrooge, especially 10yr old Scrooge cussing out his nephew Donald for interrupting his dreams. Then on top of all that it ends with Scrooge finally reaching Goldie on the burning stage (which never happened), and the blushinggg hnnghhh and then freaking Donald sitting there watching the whole thing, just yes.

“A Letter From Home”: I had to read this one simply because I had read that Scrooge and Matilda make up. Boy howdy was this an emotional roller coaster, starting with Scrooge visiting his parents’ grave. Tears. Literal tears. Then Matilda wants nothing to do with him, that surprised me a bit considering how sweet and soft-spoken she was when she was younger. Plus she breaks the news about how Fergus never wanted Scrooge to find the treasure and calls him a bad son. My gosh my heart is aching for Scrooge at this point. The antagonist suddenly pulls a gun on Matilda, and Scrooge jumps in front of her without hesitation. Thank goodness the gun ‘misfires’. That definitely changed things between the two. Finally we get to see the interaction we’ve been waiting for. Scrooge and Matilda finally yell talk things out, and somewhat uncharacteristically, Scrooge cries and pleads for forgiveness. However, Matilda finally gets to hear Scrooge’s side and realizes just what he’s been through as well. They find a letter to Scrooge from Fergus, who actually did want Scrooge to find the treasure, and told him he and his mother were proud of him. It was one of the only letters Scrooge ever received from his parents, and he never, since the day they died, knew they were proud of him. sobs

That was a lot longer than necessary but even if you guys only read the sections you want that works. Thank you again!

[feyria]

Final draft for Oboru

Name:­ Oboru Namikawa

Nickname: spoiled brat and swirly

Hero Name:­ The hurricane hero, Monsoon

Age:­ 17

Gender:­ male

Sexuality:­ bisexual

Personality:­ Thanks to his parents' spoiling him, Oboru has a brattish nature that tends to come out when he's angry. Even though he has that side to him, he is normally a stoic individual, a smile rarely on his face. Devoting himself to training and trying to better himself so he can live up to All Might, Oboru can also come off as a headstrong, driven character. Even though he can be seen as annoying to some, he does have a more tolerable personality where he can be playful, looking for ways to tease his friends or convince them to spar with him. He's not very competitive but will go into a slightly depressive state when losing an important fight. Oboru can also be pretty intense when All Might is mentioned and he spends his weekends training himself and his quirk to keep the vow he made to himself when he was younger. He is not ashamed of his admiration of All Might but his body still reacts to the teasing in the form of him blushing, though he constantly ignores this. He has a great many All Might collectibles in his room which he will excitedly show off to his friends as well when given the chance.

Likes:­ anything that deals with All might will keep Oboru entertained for hours on end. He enjoys going outside during windy days, sitting on the hammock hung up in his back porch. Other times, he'll slip on his roller blades and skate around his neighborhood just enjoying the fresh air.

Dislikes:­ due to an incident when he was younger, Oboru has an intense dislike(fear) of heights. Oboru is not a fan of horror movies, both because they can scare him for a few days and also because if they aren't scary theyre just plain awful in his opinion. Braces: it was about the only thing his parents' put their foot down on and he hates the way they look on him.

Strengths:­ Oboru has endless amounts of determination, never backing down from a fight and always trying to find ways to gain an advantage. Having constantly trained with his quirk, Oboru now has great control and precision with it. Although this doesn't affect his recoil, he can determine an almost exact amount of output he can generate before it really starts affecting him.

Weaknesses:­ When angered enough, Oboru can give into the bratty nature he tries to keep under wraps, taking off on his own and getting himself into more trouble than necessary. Oboru's fear of heights hinders his chances of reaching his full potential with his quirk.

Appearance: Oboru is about 5'8", an average height for his age with a slight tan, his hair is a dark brown styled in short but tight curls, his eyes are slightly rounded and are two shades lighter than his hair like creamed coffee. The palms of his hands as well as the area around his wrists contain enlarged pores that are arranged in swirls on his skin. Theyre big enough to be seen with the naked eye and look almost like tiny holes. He has about 40 of these pores on each arm, 15 on his palms and 30 on his arms from his wrists to halfway down his forearms. Oboru has a muscular build similar to a wrestler but not overly so, as in he has a four-pack of abs and he could carry something about 100lbs with either his arms or legs. He may struggle with it though. He has relatively high cheek bones, a pointed nose and braces which he hates, choosing to smile without showing his teeth or covering his mouth when laughing.

Standard Clothes: Oboru likes to wear tank tops and short sleeved shirts with solid colors or simple patterns paired with jean shorts, loose fitting knee-length pants and various trousers. He always wears running shoes like sneakers and tennis shoes. His favorite outfit is a red shirt with burgundy short sleeves, red trousers with a dark red and orange swirled pattern on the sides and red sneakers.

Costume:­ olive green sleeveless jumpsuit with swirling patterns stitched in silver. Brown tool belt around his waist filled with all kinds of medication for dizziness and nausea as well as first aid tools. He wears brown shoes with black soles, the soles as well as the bottoms of the shoes are made with a fabric that allows air to flow freely inside it. He keeps gold rimmed aviator goggles around his neck when he's not wearing them.

Weapons/Gadgets:­ Special shoes that allow air to freely travel in and out of them, making it easier for him to ride his hurricane dash. Aviator goggles to protect his eyes from gravel or sand kicked up by his winds. A tool belt filled with various home remedies and medications for nausea, dizziness and headaches as well as bandages and triple antibiotics.

Swim:­ Oboru owns a blue and green swim trouser set as well as blue goggles. He likes to swim underwater.

Sleep:­ sleeps in long pajama pants and a short sleeve pajama shirt. Naturally they're All Might themed.

Winter:­ Oboru doesn't change his style much unless it's snowing then he'll wear thick sweat pants, a light jacket and a scarf.

Formal:­ he wears a black blazer with black slacks and a red button up shirt underneath. On his feet he'll have clogs or pointed dress shoes.

*Who would they?­ Fall for:­ Oboru is a bit of an odd ball, attracted to people that are his complete opposite. Outgoing, constantly smiling or joking people with a knack for dragging others into adventures. He himself can be a joker as well but it's rarely seen even around friends unless he's in a good mood.

Befriend:­ Oboru isn't very picky when it comes to the friends he makes, so long as they aren't bullies or overly cocky/rude, he's willing to hang around them. Most of his friends end up being adventurous types that like to explore or hang around outside.

Hate:­ Oboru has a severe dislike for those that are bossy or think they are better than anyone else for shallow reasons.

Respect:­ He respects those that are quirkless or have weak quirks, yet still try their hardest to improve. Oboru also respects people that are normally considered underdogs and fight against what the world expects of them, so long as they aren't doing any misdeeds in the process.

Rival:­ Anyone with a quirk that counters his is instantly a rival in Oboru's book as well as those with powerful quirks in general.

Hobbies/Skills:­ Exceptional balance thanks to riding around on his cyclones, he's even immune to getting dizzy from anything outside his quirk recoil. He's an avid reader, constantly having a book in hand at home when resting.

*How they Act­ Towards Romantic Int­erests: When Oboru is interested in someone he turns into a bit of a self groomer, trying to subtlety fix his hair if he thinks it's messy and wearing small amounts of cologne. He avoids eye contact but may try to ask them out for casual hang outs.

Acquaintances:­ Oboru is pretty all business with acquaintances, he may crack a smile or two but still comes off as detached from others. It's not much different from how he acts around strangers since he feels that they won't be around him very long.

Towards Friends/Clos­e Friends: with his buddies Oboru finally let's his guard down, making jokes and horsing around. His passion for training pops up as well, trying to find or make time for some friendly sparring to keep in shape. Oboru also likes to hang outside with his friends, either at parks or grabbing a bite to eat.

Rivals:­ If they allow him to get away with it, Oboru will relentlessly pursue them in hopes of sparring with them to improve his own quirk as well as working out the kinks and weak spots in it.

Towards Enemies:­ When it comes to civilian or classmate enemies, Oboru can't seem to decide between totally ignoring them or constantly picking a fight with them over any little thing that bothers him. Against villains, Oboru will fight them with everything he has while also doing his best to only incapacitate them to make capture easy.

Towards Iconic Figur­es: Oboru does have other iconic figures aside from All Might and he acts the same towards all of them. He hits Iida levels of politeness; he won't make any robotic movements but he will be incredibly formal to the point that it may become uncomfortable for the person on the receiving end.

Meeting Strangers:­ Oboru can be mistaken as an aloof or unfriendly person when meeting strangers, only offering a curt handshake and his last name. If he is particularly distracted when meeting someone, he may not even look at them during their introduction.

When Facing Fears:­ while brave enough to face most of his fears, he can still unconsciously use his quirk. It's nothing serious being more of a small spiralling breeze seeping from his pores. If the fear involves him falling from somewhere high, he goes on pure instinct, most of the time his quirk will just cause him more harm then good.

In a life changing s­ituation: Being a creature of habit, Oboru hates anything that can drastically change his way of life. He'll fight it tooth and nail if possible and if nothing can be done to stop it, Oboru will try to change things back to normal. Otherwise he'll fall into a pit of denial trying to fall back into his usual tempo, even good changes don't sit very well with him if it's vastly different from his comfort zone.

History:­ After 7 failed attempts at having children, oboru was born on his parents' 8th try and they were so ecstatic that they began to spoil him relentlessly. For 5 whole years oboru never knew the meaning of the word "no", this led him to be a very spoiled pre-teen unfortunately prone to throwing slight tantrums when not given his way. "Luckily" he suffers through a humbling experience at the age of 11 when a villain with the ability to turn into a gargoyle took him hostage. The gargoyle was blasted out of the sky by a rookie hero, sending Oboru quite literally tumbling to his death. His panic and fear caused him to misfire his quirk repeatedly until the recoil left him reeling, unable to tell if he was falling or flying up. Thankfully, All might had been nearby and the hero quickly saves oboru from the misfortune of becoming one with the asphalt. Oboru and his parents never were able to thank All Might enough in their minds and Oboru himself vows to become a hero to eventually pay back the massive debt he owes to the great hero. He very nearly worked himself to death after learning that All Might would be teaching at U.A, only truly relaxing and resting after being admitted to the school.

Relationships:

Family: Kiara (mother) can also create cyclones with her hands -if used too much, her hands and arms will cramp up very badly-

Eiji (father) can control air currents -has no major recoil but is very weak in areas with little to no wind-

Currently dating Ritsuo as of four months, he's pretty shy about it but not ashamed. He just has no idea how to really act without going overboard and is a bit paranoid that they may get in trouble for PDA. They've already shared a kiss but don't do much more than that.

Ethnicity/Nationality: pure blooded Japanese; Oboru was born in Okinawa, Japan.

Fighting Style: Oboru is all about close quarters combat, making his cyclones around his hands and feet to add extra power to his strikes. The winds tend to push his opponents back or leave them winded and he is quick to take advantage of that, only backing off if they're out of commission or immune to his wind. When things get dicey, he'll hang back and switch to using ranged attacks, flinging cyclones and tornadoes at his opponent.

Habits: not a habit so much as a necessity Oboru will take a few minutes to floss his braces or fix the bands in them. He hates them with every fiber of his being so he saves that habit for when he's alone in the bathroom or if he finds a dark corner to hide in. The pores on his palms and arms are big enough to get water or dirt in them so there are times he will force air out of them to clean anything out.

Residence: Oboru stays at home with his parents; they live in a two story home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a back patio and a front porch. His parents share one bedroom while Oboru has his own. The last room is for guests if any of them bring friends over. The patio has a hammock set up as well as two chairs and features a view of their own and only orange tree.

Musical Themes: MHA OST Hero A

Quotes:­ "I'm not cocky or stubborn, I just know I can do better- I HAVE to do better!", "Why do I want to be a hero? Since when did the desire to see people smiling in joy or relief need to be questioned?", "Even heroes need to be saved but that doesn't make the blow to my pride any less painful."

Quirk Name:­ Cyclone

Type: Emitter

Description:­ The enlarged pores on Oboru's arms and hands can generate powerful gusts of wind that, due to their placing, shape into cyclones and tornadoes of varying sizes. Oboru can use these to increase his speed as well as his strength by packing extra power into his attacks or he can use them as a stand alone attack force.

Strengths:­ Oboru can use smaller cylcones as skates to get around faster and he can increase their size to "fly" through the air. The average speed of his rotating cylcones reach about 60 to 75mph and if he gets really serious, he can crank the wind speed up to 115mph. However, going that high brings about some hefty repercussions. Very handy for keeping enemies at bay.

Weaknesses: He can only adjust the power of the cyclones currently touching his body, once he releases them they will steadily weaken over a 20 to 30 second time frame depending on how big they are. Surprisingly, the larger the cyclone, the less time it stays formed. As he continuously uses his quirk, Oboru begins to feel light-headed, dizzy and off-balance, his vision twisting and rocking as if he sat in a chair and spun himself in it. This causes headaches and nausea as well, eventually leaving him incapacitated for a few hours if he doesn't take time to recover.

Main Skills: Whirlwind fist- focuses a tightly spinning cyclone around his fist and releases it upon impact. Wind speeds normally at 40 to 50mph.

Hurricane dash: uses two mini cyclones as skates to maneuver around. They can be replenished as many times until Oboru can no longer fight his quirk recoil. The winds spin at 35mph but can make Oboru himself "skate" to a maximum speed of 40mph.

Tornado upper- Oboru charges at his target, flipping himself into a handstand where he uses his winds to spin himself like a top. The spin adds enough force to his legs that it knocks his opponent into the air. He makes himself spin at about 15 to 20mph.

Slicing maelstrom: creates two large cyclones which he then combines to form an even larger cyclone to entangle his opponent in (surefire way to set off his recoil) Wind speeds reach up to 90mph.

Eye of the storm: similar to slicing maelstrom, Oboru creates a massive cyclone using both hands. Instead of launching it at his target, he holds onto it, controlling its power and what path it takes. Oboru can only hold it for 25 seconds and immediately afterwards, he will pass out. If he is interrupted part way through depending on how long he had it, he will collapse from exhaustion and be unable to move for a few minutes. Oboru can force the wind speeds to hit 115mph at the cost of getting hit with an intensified version of his normal recoil and only being able to maintain that wind speed for 12 seconds.

[words-for-the-void]

DEAR SUGAR, THE RUMPUS ADVICE COLUMN #85: WE CALL THIS A CLUSTERFUCK BY SUGAR

Dear Sugar, I recently had sex with a guy who has a complicated history with a friend of mine. I knew sleeping with him would hurt my friend’s feelings, and so I told her I wouldn’t. She didn’t ask me not to sleep with him, but it was implied. She would make references to “his crush on me” and once asked him if we had had a threesome with this other girl. Long story short, I broke my promise. I meant what I said to my friend at the time, Sugar, but I failed. The man in question is a good guy. I enjoyed spending time with him and let’s just say my conjugal bed has been rather empty of late. My desire outweighed the potential hurt I knew my actions would cause. The guy and my friend have had many conversations since I slept with him, and they appear to have made up, whereas my friendship with her is still on shaky ground. I think it will normalize eventually, but I already feel like our friendship is something that’s not that important to her. I don’t even know if it’s all that important to me either. Very recently, my step-dad had a heart attack. It was his second. It made me think about gravity and consequence and trivialities, and that if this one night of problematic sex forever alters or negates all the other ways I’ve been a good friend to her, then so be it. If that’s the case, our friendship wasn’t meant to last, and I have more important things to worry about. But at the same time I can’t help but wonder if I am losing my humanity a little. Because today, an ex/friend of mine basically said she hadn’t completely forgiven me for hurting her six years ago. I cheated on her like the dumb 22-year-old I was, and I have apologized a thousand times since then. We weren’t friends for a while, but we became good friends again eventually. Until today, I was operating under the assumption that we were okay. To hear her say she relates to me differently, that she withholds information from me because of how I behaved years ago, makes me profoundly sad and angry. Forgiveness isn’t something piecemeal to me, but clearly I am upsetting people in ways that have staying power. What does it mean if someone forgives you, but never forgets? I feel both horrible and stubborn. And I don’t know how much of this anger is due to acknowledging potentially ugly truths about myself—that I value desire at the expense of my friendships; that I can’t seem to learn from past mistakes; that I am a person others deem untrustworthy. The last one stings the worst, and is a doubt I expressed to the guy shortly after our tryst. “She never trusted you,” he said, which was a confirmation of my fears, if not a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would probably have done the same thing, given another opportunity. And I don’t know if that should worry me or if it makes me some kind of pleasure addict or just a terrible friend. I don’t regret my recent behavior, but should I? Am I throwing away solid friendships for stupid sexual gratification? Part of me feels selfish even writing to you, because I know you’ll call me honey bun and make me feel better when I don’t deserve it. Friend Or Foe *** Dear Sugar, I have two friends who I love dearly. One is a man I’ve known since we were teenagers. A few years ago, he and I started a brief non-monogamous romance. He then fell in love with another woman, who he rightly chose over me. Though I knew we were meant to be friends instead of romantic partners, my feelings for him ran deep, so I was crushed. Eventually the pain subsided, and we became closer as friends. The other friend is a woman I admire greatly as a writer and as a person. She’s witty, sexy, brilliant. We support each other through romantic traumas and laugh constantly whenever we’re together. She was there to comfort me when my male friend told me he had met someone else. She sat with me as I unabashedly cried in public in the middle of downtown San Francisco. Recently, these two friends met and hit it off. He started joking about sleeping with her. (He is single now.) I told my male friend that this idea made me feel uncomfortable, but he dismissed my worries. I didn’t press the issue because my female friend swore that she would never sleep with him. She said this to me, repeatedly, emphatically, even when I didn’t ask her. While I was over my attraction to this guy, the history was still a little too fresh, and I wasn’t finished processing the heartbreak. She saw how it was still affecting me. I trusted her. But it happened anyway. They slept together. When my male friend told me, I got very upset; I yelled at him for the way he’d dismissed my feelings in the past. We talked on several very long phone calls, and by the end of it I felt heard, valued and respected. He also forced me to come to terms with my jealousy and lack of claim I have over others’ actions. Since then, I’ve had to do a lot of hard looking at my own insecurity and desire for control. Two weeks later, when my female friend apologized for breaking the promise she had made to me, I told her I no longer thought I’d had a right to that promise in the first place, even though it hurt and angered me when she broke it. She had done what she felt was right for her, and now I had to figure out what was right for me: taking time and space. Part of me felt at peace with this conclusion. But by that point, I also felt so emotionally exhausted by the whole situation, and so disgusted with myself, I wasn’t even sure I deserved an apology from anyone. Sugar, I’m conflicted. I know what they did wasn’t morally wrong; I’ve felt desire before for the exes of friends, and the friends of exes. These two friends have a relationship that’s independent of me. Still, I was so hurt. And the worst part is, I’m ashamed of my hurt. I’m ashamed of the jealousy I didn’t know was still in me, even eighteen months after the romance ended. I want to be the person who can gracefully take joy in the fact that two people I love were able to share some sexy fun. I want to believe that the hurt is all in my possessive, competitive little brain, so I can just change myself and get over it. All I do now is beat myself up, for whatever choice I make. My internal compass on this matter is so broken. I need your wise, soothing words. Love,
Triangled Dear Women, A couple of years ago the Baby Sugars got into a vicious fight over the decapitated head of a black-haired plastic princess. My son was all but frothing at the mouth. My daughter screamed so hard for so long I thought the neighbors were going to call the cops. The decapitated head in question was about the size of a gumball, its neck not a proper neck, but rather an opening into which a tiny interchangeable torso was meant to be snapped. This torso was either the ancient female Egyptian my daughter was holding in her hand or the sultry skirted girl pirate my son was holding in his. Hence the uproar. Neither of them could be convinced to relinquish their claim on the decapitated head of the black-haired plastic princess, no matter how gently or sternly or maniacally I explained that they could take turns, each of them attaching the head to “their torso” for short periods of time. Likewise, they refused to be consoled by any one of the countless items that clutter the room they share—not the bin of agates or the wooden daggers; not the stuffed kittens or alphabet flashcards; not the foam swords or half-trashed markers; not the ballerinas or Roman warriors or monkeys or fairy statuettes or fake golden coins or movie-inspired action figures or unicorns or race cars or dinosaurs or tiny spiral-bound notebooks or any other damn thing in the whole motherloving universe but the decapitated head of the black-haired plastic princess. It’s mine, my daughter shrieked. I was playing with it first, countered my son. It’s special to me, wailed my daughter. She plays with my special toys all the time, my son bellowed. I talked and reasoned and made suggestions that soon became commands, but really, ultimately, there was nothing to be done. There was one head and two torsos. The indisputable fact of that was like a storm we had to ride out until all the trees were blown down. I begin with this allegorical snippet from Chez Sugar not because I think your individual and joint struggles regarding your friendship are as infantile as a tussle over a toy, but rather because I think it’s instructive to contemplate in essential terms our desire to have not only what is ours, but what also belongs to those we love, and not only because we want those things for ourselves, but because we want the other person not to have them. That fervor is age-old and endless and a gumball-size piece at the core of what we’re grappling with here and I invite you both to ponder it. We all have a righteous claim to the decapitated head of the black-haired plastic princess. We believe she is ours alone to hold. We refuse to let her go. Before we begin disentangling your situation in earnest, I’ll say right out that I’m quite sure if the two of you continue talking silently to yourselves about this crappy and weird thing that happened with the man I’m going to go ahead and call The Foxy Fellow you’re going to regret it. And more than that, you’re going to hatch a whole slew of increasingly distorted beliefs about what went down and what that means and who did and said what and it will not only make you miserable and sad and bitter, it will also rob you of a friend who you really should be sitting on a porch with ten years in the future, laughing about what knuckleheads you were back in the day. You both did something you basically know wasn’t so great. Your desires and fears and failings and unreasonable expectations and things you won’t admit to yourselves clicked into each other as neatly as a plastic head does into a plastic torso and when you put them together you both got pinched. The same thing happened to you from different points of view. With whom should our sympathies lie? On which woman’s shoulders should the greatest blame be placed? In what directions do the arrows of your narratives flow? How best do you find your way out of this place? These are the questions I asked myself as I pondered your letters. Every time I tried to straighten the stories out in my head they got all tangled up instead. I made charts and lists with bullet points. I took a piece of paper and literally drew a map. I turned your Foxy Fellow imbroglio into a pair of mathematical equations of the sort I never learned how to do properly in school (which utterly frees me to use them for my own whimsical literary purposes). Here’s how they look. Friend or Foe: “I solemnly swear that I will never fuck The Foxy Fellow because my friend still has tender and territorial feelings for him and I don’t want to hurt her” + [I am a caring person and fucking The Foxy Fellow would compel me to question the sort of person I believe myself to be] + fucked The Foxy Fellow anyway = eek/ugh2 x [but perhaps, when I really think about it, my friendship with this woman is “not that important”] ÷ and yet there was that time I sat with her in downtown San Francisco while she bawled unabashedly > so – fuck this shit! + how dare she be mad at me! + I was a good to friend to her in every other way! + The Foxy Fellow has not even been her boyfriend for, like, EVER! + I am attracted to him! + he is attracted to me! + I’m not even 30 and my vagina is growing cob webs! + who the hell is she to say who The Foxy Fellow and I get to have sex with in the first place? < I am a terrible person and a selfish sex fiend [will the damning ex-girlfriend please present her testimony to the court?] ÷ cheated, yes + lied, yes + to ever be trusted or forgiven, no, never, not by any woman in any time for any reason whatsoever = you know what? Fuck those bitches! + I’d totally do The Foxy Fellow again! ≠ Except. Well. [Damn] Triangled: “The Foxy Fellow is a wonderful person” +  [we “broke up,” though we were never really together, never monogamous, even though he crushed my heart in this really hard-to-exactly-define-way for which I do not fault him because I didn’t have expectations—why would I have expectations? etc] ÷ it’s pretty clear to me that he wants to fuck my lovely woman friend who watched me bawl unabashedly over him in downtown San Francisco and this makes me feel like puking2 + [what is the meaning of monogamy? what is love? do we ever owe anyone anything when it comes to sex? why do I feel like puking if The Foxy Fellow is “only my friend”?] = accept adamant and profuse promises from my lovely woman friend regarding her plans to not fuck The Foxy Fellow x [sisterhood!] – allow The Foxy Fellow to brush me off when I express my wish he not fuck my lovely woman friend = cry/rage when they fail to not fuck + [how could they? she promised! I thought she was my friend! he never listened to me!] < long, difficult, ultimately satisfying conversation with The Foxy Fellow that makes me feel oddly closer to him [and worse about my puny, insecure, control freak, jealous, uncool, dumbass, competitive, needy self2] x short, unproductive, decidedly cool conversation with my lovely woman friend [doesn’t it seem like she should be sorrier than this?/what right do I have to an apology? since when do I get to say who fucks whom?/but she promised!] ÷ fantasize that my lovely woman friend will take a long-term job in Korea + listen to my generation’s equivalent of Lisa Germano’s “Cancer of Everything” repeatedly while huddled into the pathetic ball of myself + [alternate with trying to cheerfully compose the phrase “to share some sexy fun” in relation to those two selfish assholes] ≠ Except. Well. [Damn] In the math ignorant world of Sugarland, we call this a clusterfuck. You are both wrong. You are both right. You both know you can do better than you did. The fact that you failed to do so equals nothing unless you learn something from this. So let’s learn it, sweet peas. Triangled, if it really hurts and enrages you that The Foxy Fellow fucks a friend of yours he isn’t your friend and you should not conduct yourself with him as such. He is your ex, the love you’ve yet to get over for reasons you may not be able to explain or justify even to yourself, the man who is an absolute no-go zone for anyone who’s even remotely in your inner circle. Lose the but-we’re-just-friends-now/free-love mumbo jumbo and own up to what you actually feel: if The Foxy Fellow is fucking anyone, you don’t want to be hanging out with her. Not yet. Not now. Maybe not ever. At the very least, heal your heart before you go introducing The Foxy Fellow to your friends, especially those you’d describe as “witty, sexy, brilliant.” And then brace yourself. Though it may seem that Friend or Foe’s choice to break her promise and fuck The Foxy Fellow is what caused all this pain, her actions are not at the root of your sorrow. What’s at the root is the fact that you failed to recognize and honor your own boundaries. You tried to have it both ways. You wanted to be the woman who could be friends with a man she’s not over, but you are not that woman. I understand why you want to be her, darling. She’s one cool cat. She’s the star of the show. She doesn’t take anything personally. But you are not her. And that’s okay. You are your own fragile, strong, sweet, searching self. You can be sad a guy you sort of fell for didn’t fall for you. You don’t have to be a good sport. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay with sharing your interesting and beautiful friends with The Foxy Fellow, even if you feel like a puny asshole not being okay with it. You can say no. But the thing is, you have to say it. You have to be the woman who stands up and says it. And you have to say it to the right person too. Not to the lovely friend who can’t possibly keep the promises she’s made to you while swimming in the shared waters of your wishy-washy ache for affirmation and orgasms, but to the man himself. Yes, The Foxy Fellow. The one who is, but who is not, your friend. You have to live with the uncomfortable reality that it’s from him—not her!—that you need time and space. And then you have to take it, hard as it is, come what may. Friend or Foe, you made a choice you knew would hurt someone who trusted you—a choice, it’s worth noting, you explicitly vowed not to make—and afterwards you justified that choice with reasons you could’ve more thoughtfully discussed with her beforehand. This makes you neither “a pleasure addict” nor “a terrible friend.” It makes you someone who did what most people would do in this situation at this moment in your life—a woman who took what she wanted instead of pondering what she needed. You are at once blameless in this and entirely responsible. You were sort of set up by Triangled and you were also basically a jerk to her. The reason all that other junk came up in your post-Foxy Fellow contemplations—(your ex, your feelings of being eternally punished for having wronged her, your sense that your friend never trusted you either)—is that, contrary to your claim that you don’t regret what you did, you know you could have done this differently, better, or not at all. What���s at stake here is not only your friendship with Triangled, but also your own integrity. You promised you would not hurt someone you cared for. You hurt her anyway. What do you make of that? What would you like to take forward from this, honey bun? Do you want to throw up your hands and say oh well or do you dare to allow this experience to alter your view? We all like to think we’re right about what we believe about ourselves and what we often believe are only the best, most moral things—ie: of course I would never fuck The Foxy Fellow because that would hurt my friend! We like to pretend that our generous impulses come naturally. But the reality is we often become our kindest, most ethical selves only by seeing what it feels like to be a selfish jackass first. It’s the reason we have to fight so viciously over the decapitated head of the black-haired plastic princess before we learn how to play nice; the reason we have to get burned before we understand the power of fire; the reason our most meaningful relationships are so often those that continued beyond the very juncture at which they came the closest to ending. I hope that you’ll do that, dear women, even if it takes you some time to stagger forward. I don’t know if your friendship is built to last a lifetime, but I know the game is worth the candle. I can see you on that ten-years-off porch. Yours, Sugar